Disclaimer: Two reasons I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it-1) Would I really be writing fanfiction if I owned the original story? and 2) Since the author and owner of Harry Potter is J.K. Rowling, and seeing that I'm not J.K. Rowling, then I'm not the author and I don't own Harry Potter!
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!
A/N: Yet another conflict introduced in this chapter. *sigh* Honestly, I should just change the name of this story to "One of the Most Complicated Stories That Has Ever Been in the Harry Potter Section on FanFiction.Net and the Author is Having a Heck of a Time Writing It." By the way, when I say that I'm having a heck of a time writing this, that's true, but in a good way-this is so much fun to write, but it's also getting hard!
Chapter Thirteen-The New Threat
*Outside the Leaky Cauldron, thirty minutes earlier*
Colette Villons swiftly left the Leaky Cauldron, her head buzzing with the story she had just heard, told to her by Albus Dumbledore. She could hardly believe the story, it was so incredibly different from what she had formerly believed to be true, and was almost too complex to be considered reality. But still...she couldn't *not* believe it, when she considered how realistic it could be when looked at in the right way, and how much sense it made, and how many confusions it cleared up for her...
She still couldn't get it completely through her head that Sirius Black was Harry Potter's godfather. His godfather! Who would ever guess? But when Dumbledore had told her the events that occurred that night in the Shrieking Shack, and what had happened afterwards, and how Harry had kept up a correspondance with Black since, it all made perfect sense about why him-and his friends Weasley and Granger-were trying to defend Black so badly. Also that whole Animagus business explained how Black escaped from Azkaban, and how he had been so hard to capture since. Plus, that whole thing about Peter Pettigrew being Ron Weasley's rat-it all made perfect, logical sense. But, still, there was a few things that she wanted to check out: She wanted primary sources, not secondary sources.
As Colette leaned against the wall of a Muggle store not far from the Leaky Cauldron, she thought about how the story had affected her emotionally. It was of murder, while being betrayed by someone he trusted. Losing two of his best friends and his godson. And then...how Harry must have felt that night...he was about to go live with his godfather, and then the traitor escaped again and Fudge screwed everything up...
Colette swallowed down the lump that was threatening to rise in her throat, and blinked furiously. She was not one that was usually sentimental, because in her line of work she came across a great number of very sad stories that had occurred, usually a long time ago. But this story in particular had touched her in a way that few other stories had. Maybe because it's events were not only more recent-but happening right that minute-or because she was playing a part in the outcome of the unfinished story, or maybe just because she felt personally connected.
Because she had known Sirius Black. They had become friendly with each other after Colette moved to England--following her graduation from Beauxbatons at the age of seventeen-and had met him at the English ministry. Although he was a good three or so years older than her, they had quickly grown to like each other, but they had kept their friendly relationship on the level of acquantincess at work. She had met him only months before the downfall of Voldemort-and his sentence to Azkaban. Colette had been downright shocked when she found out that he "had been working for the Dark Lord." He had always seemed to her as simply a fun-loving, kind man, working hard with others in the magical community's times of great need. She had believed what the newspapers said, however, and had tried to forget her short and mild friendship with him. But now...
Colette stood up straight, pulling herself out of her memories as she remembered that she had promised Dumbledore that she would interview Black. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she hurried down the London streets until she came to a building that was only seen by magical eyes-St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She stopped outside the entrance, taking a deep breath and carefully combing her hair with her fingers.
She knew very well what Dumbledore had implied that she do to be allowed to see Black. To "strut her stuff," so to speak. Pretend to be a good-looking, sophisticated, and powerful woman who wanted to be shown to a patient's room. Pretend to be someone manipulative, domineering, and imposing actions upon others. Pretend to be someone that she was not. In other words, be an actress.
Surprisingly, it didn't take much of Colette "strutting her stuff" to be allowed to go to room 521. After explaining in a voice quite unlike her own who she was and what she wanted to do, all she had to do was flip her hair a few times, grin and wink at the man at the desk who just stood and watched her, and soon she was on the fifth floor, standing in front of the room occupied by Sirius Black.
If she was brutally honest with herself, she was a little nervous. She had not talked to Black in almost fourteen years, and she wasn't even sure if he would remember her after all this time and all that he had been through since they had last talked. But, she remembered him, and a part of her was relieved that there was a probable story for Black being innocent for two reasons: she had liked him from the start, and she didn't like the idea that she could so easily become friendly with someone who was a servant of Voldemort.
Pausing for a moment before opening the door to room 521, she stopped to listen to the murmer of voices inside the room. Although she couldn't make out what they were saying, she could tell that one of the voices was distinctly a boy, a teenager. Was it Harry Potter's voice, perhaps? The other voice had a deep, masculine sound to it. Even though she couldn't make out what it was saying, she could tell that it was very kind, and had a teasing ring to it. Black's.
She was about to knock on the door when suddenly there was a loud burst of laughter from inside the room. Startled, she pulled back, her hand moving away from the door so fast that it could seem to someone that the door must have given her an electric shock of some sort, for her to move away so quickly.
She waited patiently for their laughter to die down, until there was a pause in the sound that was coming from the room. Silence. Not wanting to stall any more time and possibly lose her nerve, Colette quickly lifted her hand and knocked.
There was a pause, and then she heard the boyish voice call out, "Er...come in."
Colette turned the knob and opened the door the door. The first thing that she saw of the room was the face of Sirius Black staring at her from where he lay on the bed. She started. He looked so...different. He was considerably thinner, and was unnaturally pale. His face was a good deal gaunter than she remembered, and, there was something about his eyes that unnerved Colette a great deal.
Then she noticed the boy that was sitting next to Sirius's bedside. A boy with messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes. He was staring up at her with his mouth slightly open, but she didn't pay attention. She was used to those type of reactions from the male spieces. Colette knew immediately, from seeing his picture in the Daily Prophet, that this was Harry Potter.
"C-Colette?" Sirius sputtered, staring at Colette with wide eyes, forcing her to turn away from staring at the teenage boy at his side. "What...what..."
Swallowing down her emotions, she gave a swift, flashing smile. "Hello, Sirius," she replied smoothly, pretending to give him a quick once-over. He however, didn't seem to notice, and she continued to speak. "And you..." She turned to the boy, who shut his mouth with a snap. "You must be Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."
Suppressing a smile at Harry's reaction to her entrance, she watched him awkwardly say, "Um...hi." He turned to his godfather. "What...?"
"My name is Colette Villons," Colette said quickly, and walked across the room to sit in the seat next to Harry. After explaining who she was and making sure that Sirius remembered her, Colette kindly asked Harry to leave so she could ask Sirius some questions. After the door closed behind him, Colette turned to Sirius, who now not only looked surprised-but also happy, skeptical, and even a little suspicious.
There was a moment of silence. Colette seemed to be waiting for Sirius to speak first. Sirius seemed to be waiting for Colette to speak first. Finally, Sirius opened his mouth.
"Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, huh? Wow, that's...wow." He said, raising an eyebrow at her slightly. "I didn't realize that it was you who took over after Crouch. You sure do move up the ranks, don't you?"
"Yes, I suppose," Colette said carefully, watching her old acquantince warily. "This isn't a visit for pleasure, Sirius. I want to ask you some questions-"
"Well, first, I have a question for you," Sirius interrupted smoothly, bringing a harrased frown onto her face. She hated being interrupted. "What are you doing here?"
Colette blinked. "I said, I'm here to ask you questions-"
"I know what you said," Sirius interrupted once again, waving his hand in the air. A burst of annoyance washed over her at being cut off again, but she grinded her teeth together and restrained from saying anything. *If you let him finish, he'll stop interrupting you,* Colette thought, and forced herself to relax.
"But that doesn't explain what you are doing here," He continued, either demonstrating acting abilities or really not noticing Colette's annoyance as he went on speaking. "Or, more precisely, why you are here. How come you've suddenly taken an interest in me? You didn't take an interest in me when I when I was admitted into the hospital...or fourteen years ago," He added dryly, eyeing Colette with such intuitive in a way that made her uncomfortable.
"Because, Black, things have changed now," Colette replied cooly as she regained her composure, carefully using his last name in an effective way. Sirius's eyes flickered for a moment, but he said nothing. "Now, if you'll just let me-"
"What's changed?"
Sirius was beginning to get on Colette's last nerve. Grinding and curling her toungue against her hard pallate in irritation, she thinned her lips into a narrow line and frowned at Sirius. After a moment, she opened her mouth to speak-the thought had occurred to her that Sirius had a right to know why she was there. Colette sighed. She hated admitting that he was right.
To Sirius, Colette looked as if she was having some sort of internal struggle. Yet again, Sirius raised his eyebrow at her. Colette glanced at him, saw his expression, and shook her head in a mixture of amusement, anger, and exasperation. Sirius Black sure could be exshausting at times.
"The thing is..." Colette began hesitantly, chewing on her bottom lip. For some reason, she didn't really want to tell Sirius that she had only begun to seriously consider his side of the story that very morning, that she had believed him to be a murderer for almost fourteen years, and that she still wasn't one hundred percent sure that he was one hundred percent innocent.
"The thing is..." Sirius prompted her on, watching her carefully.
"It wasn't until this morning that Albus Dumbledore brought it to my attention that there is a possibility that you are innocent," Colette let out in a rush, and then she shifted in her chair. She didn't remember ever feeling this uncomfortable for a long time.
Sirius nodded. He didn't look surprised in the least, but there was a very small trace of sadness on his face.
"That's the case for quite a few people, not finding out the truth until recently, that is," He said heavily. "Harry himself only found out slightly over a year ago at Hogwarts..."
"Yes, I know, Dumbledore told me everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
"So do you believe my story? Do you think that it's true?" What Sirius was really asking, although not putting into words, was, "Do you believe me to be a murderer who killed twelve innocent Muggles and betrayed his best friends?"
Now it was Colette's turn to sigh, as she deftly avoided his piercing gaze. "I...well, I..." She sighed again. "I honestly don't know, Sirius. I don't know what to believe...I want to believe you, Sirius, I really do, but I just need more justification than what Dumbledore said. I want primary sources, and physical evidence, if that's possible."
"There is no physical evidence," Sirius said dully. "If there was, I wouldn't be under hospital arrest. I'm not allowed to leave this room, do you know that? I can't leave this *room.* If there was physical evidence, I would be a free man in a home with Harry. But the only physical evidence turned into the rat he is and disappeared that night at Hogwarts."
Colette bit her lip, feeling truly sorry for the pale, thin man lying in a hospital bed in front of her. She wanted it to be true, but she still wasn't positive. She lived by the rule that she didn't believe it until she could see it, but that didn't seem to be working here...
"I'm here to ask you questions," Colette said softly. "And see if there's any way that I can help you."
Sirius looked up, startled. "Help me?"
"Yes," Colette said, looking at him curiously. She had thought that he had already guessed that she was going to try to i help him. "Dumbledore and I both believe that my position in the Ministry can affect whether your having a trial or not, and a fair one at that."
Sirius sat up, suddenly looking very excited. "So your going to fight for me?"
"That all depends, Sirius, on how well you *cooperate.* Now, if you would be ever so cooperative, I would like to ask you some questions."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*The Riddle House, 1:00 A.M. the next morning*
Peter Pettigrew sat in the corner of a large, empty room. Every once in a while he rubbed his shadowed eyes wearily, and was muttering softly to himself about why he was there.
"Master called a meeting...why did Master call a meeting? I'm tired...it's the middle of the night...I need sleep...why did Master call a meeting?"
Pettigrew was *not* in a good mood. He'd gotten very little sleep the past few days after the Death Eater "attack" in Southampton--which had failed horribly. And he was receiving some of the blame. Now, Voldemort had called a meeting for the Death Eaters in the Conference Room at the Riddle House in the middle of the night.
Lucius Malfoy had come up with the idea of calling this room the "Conference Room." Pettigew, personally, didn't like it. He thought it sounded too comfortable and homey for a very big room that had absolutely no furniture-or anything at all-in it. The room looked cold and uninviting, and it hardly deserved the name that had been given to it...but Pettigrew didn't dare argue with Lucius Malfoy.
Any minute now, Death Eaters would be Apparating from all over the country. Pettigrew looked around the room carefully, his quick eyes ready to focus on any sound or movement.
Suddenly, there was a small *pop* sound in the other corner of the room. Pettigrew was startled, the Death Eaters usually Apparated into the center of the room-that was precisely the reason why Pettigrew was huddled in a corner. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to identify the man who was hidden under a black hood. The hood turned his way, and underneath it Pettigrew saw icy cold blue eyes. He shivered. Those eyes belonged to none other than Lucius Malfoy. Pettigrew didn't like Lucius all that much, he found him to be very harsh. He seemed worse than he had been fourteen years ago, for some reason.
Malfoy moved slowly to the other side of the room, not paying any attention whatsoever to Pettigrew, and the other man chose to watch him comfortably from a distance...although he made sure not to watch him too much, he would hate to be reprimanded by him. It had happened before. As he recalled the memory, Pettigrew once again gave a shiver.
Soon, Death Eaters were appearing left and right. Over the next few minutes, they arrived one by one, Apparating from their comfortable homes into the cold, dark room. Pettigrew continued to lurk in the corner.
Once all the loyal and faithful Death Eaters had arrived, they all gathered around in a circle in the center of the room, Pettigrew finally joining them as he fidgeted with the hem of his robes. Directly across from the single door in the room, the Death Eaters left a gap in the circle. Nobody said a word. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, until the old door creaked open, and they all turned to watch their master walk inside.
Voldemort walked into the room and moved through the gap and into the middle of the circle. The two Death Eaters who had been on either side of the gap moved closer together, closing the circle. All the Death Eaters still stood silent, watching their master. Voldemort looked around at them all, and then gave a grin that looked quite frightening.
"I've called you all here this morning," He began in a strong voice. *That's right,* Pettigrew thought sourly. *It's after twelve o'clock. It's morning.* "Because I have a plan."
A plan? The Death Eaters stirred, stealing glances at each other. What sort of plan?
"A plan that greatly involves you, Wormtail," Voldemort continued, ignoring the movement. "But also involves the rest of you."
Pettigrew gave an involuntary gulp, swallowing hard. He wondered how it involved, because the last time he talked about a plan in the middle of the night, Pettigrew had ended up having his right hand cut off...Pettigrew stopped his train of thought right there. *No,* He thought firmly. *That wasn't a sacrifice. Master gave me a wonderful reward for my loyalty.*
"Our last plan failed," Voldemort said in a terrible, cold voice, looking around at the Death Eaters who had been involved in the plan carried out in Southampton. "The plan that could have captured Sirius Black. The plan that could have resulted in Black giving us valuable information, and the plan that would have eliminated one of the people who's been watching over Harry Potter the most."
As he spoke, Voldemort's voice rose in a crescendo and got louder and louder until it filled the whole room with it's sound. Pettigrew flinched slightly.
"And it's very good, for all of you involved in that failure, that the Ministry of Magic believes it to not be an attack by us, and have no way connected it to the capture of Sirius Black. But, now, I have another plan, although it doesn't involve capturing Black. It involves changing the past."
The Death Eaters stirred again, this time a bit uneasily. Voldemort patiently waited for them to be silent, letting the effect of his words truly sink in. Pettigrew was beginning to feel nervous. Time travel? What?
Voldemort reached into the deep folds and pockets of his robes and, after a moment, pulled out two enormous Time Turners, both the size of a small book.
"These," He said softly, holding them very carefully and gazing at them with a sort of reverance. "These are Time Turners that don't time travel in hours, days, weeks, and even months. These travel years." Suddenly, his head jerked up, and he turned to Pettigrew.
"Wormtail!" Voldemort said sharply. Pettigrew inwardly cowered, but physically showed nothing. "Have you guessed what I plan to use these for?"
Not trusting himself to speak because he was so overcome with anxiousness, Pettigrew tentavley shook his head.
"I didn't expect you to," His master said softly, then he grinned a terrible grin that would have terrified most people of the world out of their wits.
"Wormtail, you and I are going to travel back in time almost fourteen years to Halloween, 1981. Do you know what happened Halloween, 1981?"
Pettigrew's head was buzzing, and the familiar date sparked a series of memories inside of him. His eyes widened as he realized exactly what his master was telling him.
"Do you mean to say..." He said slowly. "That we are going to change time?"
"Yes, Wormtail! Yes!" Voldemort cried. "We are going to make sure that I was never defeated, and that I continued my reign of ultimate power! And also..." He sneered suddenly. "We are going to make sure that Harry Potter and Sirius Black never get to see the dawn of November first."
The Death Eaters broke into applause. Their laughter and sounds of cheer carried and echoed all throughout the Riddle House, unheard by anyone other than themselves, and drifted out into the night.
A/N: Oh my gosh you guys must be so angry at me! I'm sorry this took so long! I think I developed some sort of mental block against this chapter or something, and on top that there's school and stuff...whatever it was, this took forever for me to write. (Hey, maybe it was bad luck 13!) :) I don't know how often updates are going to come these days. Definitely not as much as they did before-every three days or so-but I can't really say when they'll come out. It depends on a lot of stuff.
Man, I've been working on this chapter for over a week-almost two-and it's not even that great, either...the beginning doesn't seem to be going ANYWHERE, the end seems too rushed, Voldemort seems too calm. Oy, and the end scene just seems sort of wrong. I don't like this chapter very much.
I can compare Out of the Night to a sort of very demented tree: It doesn't have a trunk, just a heck of a lot of branches that each represent a plotline. Conflicts abound in this story, huh?
CariW: Thanks so much! I haven't really decided on what exactly is Colette's and Sirius's relationship. I have considered romance, but I don't know at this point.
Rozebunny: Thanks! I'm really glad that so many people like it!
Neutral: Haha! There you are! Yep, I'm back, have been back... I'm glad that you see how complicated this is becoming...the Grand Central Station for conflicts, eh? I did have a lot of fun with Harry and Sirius's conversation...in my mind, I'm having no trouble portraying Sirius at all, and I'm glad that you think I'm doing a good job. Doesn't Sirius rock?
I haven't been reviewing Clawtracks of a Star lately! Now I'm the one who's sorry! I tried to review the tenth chapter about four or five times when I came home, but my computer was pissed at me for some reason and kept on crashing...I haven't had the patience since...I'll get around to it at some point. :)
I had a great trip...I go up to this retreat sort of thingy in New Hampshire every year-my family had been going there since the fifties-and I love it there. You've probably never been to the northeast, considering that you live in the west...but heck what do I know? I'm judging from my own experience that I've never been farther west than Baltimore or Philadelphia-which ever is the farthest west, I'm too lazy to look at map.
Yuffie-Girl: I did like Harry's and Sirius's conversation about Ginny, if I do say so myself. :)
Gengi: Thank ya, thank ya very much! Haha, maybe you should email FanFiction.Net because of that problem with your name...there's definitely something going on with your computer or something.
And...I couldn't make a profit off of any of my fanfiction stories, even if I wanted to!
A/N: Yet another conflict introduced in this chapter. *sigh* Honestly, I should just change the name of this story to "One of the Most Complicated Stories That Has Ever Been in the Harry Potter Section on FanFiction.Net and the Author is Having a Heck of a Time Writing It." By the way, when I say that I'm having a heck of a time writing this, that's true, but in a good way-this is so much fun to write, but it's also getting hard!
Chapter Thirteen-The New Threat
*Outside the Leaky Cauldron, thirty minutes earlier*
Colette Villons swiftly left the Leaky Cauldron, her head buzzing with the story she had just heard, told to her by Albus Dumbledore. She could hardly believe the story, it was so incredibly different from what she had formerly believed to be true, and was almost too complex to be considered reality. But still...she couldn't *not* believe it, when she considered how realistic it could be when looked at in the right way, and how much sense it made, and how many confusions it cleared up for her...
She still couldn't get it completely through her head that Sirius Black was Harry Potter's godfather. His godfather! Who would ever guess? But when Dumbledore had told her the events that occurred that night in the Shrieking Shack, and what had happened afterwards, and how Harry had kept up a correspondance with Black since, it all made perfect sense about why him-and his friends Weasley and Granger-were trying to defend Black so badly. Also that whole Animagus business explained how Black escaped from Azkaban, and how he had been so hard to capture since. Plus, that whole thing about Peter Pettigrew being Ron Weasley's rat-it all made perfect, logical sense. But, still, there was a few things that she wanted to check out: She wanted primary sources, not secondary sources.
As Colette leaned against the wall of a Muggle store not far from the Leaky Cauldron, she thought about how the story had affected her emotionally. It was of murder, while being betrayed by someone he trusted. Losing two of his best friends and his godson. And then...how Harry must have felt that night...he was about to go live with his godfather, and then the traitor escaped again and Fudge screwed everything up...
Colette swallowed down the lump that was threatening to rise in her throat, and blinked furiously. She was not one that was usually sentimental, because in her line of work she came across a great number of very sad stories that had occurred, usually a long time ago. But this story in particular had touched her in a way that few other stories had. Maybe because it's events were not only more recent-but happening right that minute-or because she was playing a part in the outcome of the unfinished story, or maybe just because she felt personally connected.
Because she had known Sirius Black. They had become friendly with each other after Colette moved to England--following her graduation from Beauxbatons at the age of seventeen-and had met him at the English ministry. Although he was a good three or so years older than her, they had quickly grown to like each other, but they had kept their friendly relationship on the level of acquantincess at work. She had met him only months before the downfall of Voldemort-and his sentence to Azkaban. Colette had been downright shocked when she found out that he "had been working for the Dark Lord." He had always seemed to her as simply a fun-loving, kind man, working hard with others in the magical community's times of great need. She had believed what the newspapers said, however, and had tried to forget her short and mild friendship with him. But now...
Colette stood up straight, pulling herself out of her memories as she remembered that she had promised Dumbledore that she would interview Black. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she hurried down the London streets until she came to a building that was only seen by magical eyes-St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She stopped outside the entrance, taking a deep breath and carefully combing her hair with her fingers.
She knew very well what Dumbledore had implied that she do to be allowed to see Black. To "strut her stuff," so to speak. Pretend to be a good-looking, sophisticated, and powerful woman who wanted to be shown to a patient's room. Pretend to be someone manipulative, domineering, and imposing actions upon others. Pretend to be someone that she was not. In other words, be an actress.
Surprisingly, it didn't take much of Colette "strutting her stuff" to be allowed to go to room 521. After explaining in a voice quite unlike her own who she was and what she wanted to do, all she had to do was flip her hair a few times, grin and wink at the man at the desk who just stood and watched her, and soon she was on the fifth floor, standing in front of the room occupied by Sirius Black.
If she was brutally honest with herself, she was a little nervous. She had not talked to Black in almost fourteen years, and she wasn't even sure if he would remember her after all this time and all that he had been through since they had last talked. But, she remembered him, and a part of her was relieved that there was a probable story for Black being innocent for two reasons: she had liked him from the start, and she didn't like the idea that she could so easily become friendly with someone who was a servant of Voldemort.
Pausing for a moment before opening the door to room 521, she stopped to listen to the murmer of voices inside the room. Although she couldn't make out what they were saying, she could tell that one of the voices was distinctly a boy, a teenager. Was it Harry Potter's voice, perhaps? The other voice had a deep, masculine sound to it. Even though she couldn't make out what it was saying, she could tell that it was very kind, and had a teasing ring to it. Black's.
She was about to knock on the door when suddenly there was a loud burst of laughter from inside the room. Startled, she pulled back, her hand moving away from the door so fast that it could seem to someone that the door must have given her an electric shock of some sort, for her to move away so quickly.
She waited patiently for their laughter to die down, until there was a pause in the sound that was coming from the room. Silence. Not wanting to stall any more time and possibly lose her nerve, Colette quickly lifted her hand and knocked.
There was a pause, and then she heard the boyish voice call out, "Er...come in."
Colette turned the knob and opened the door the door. The first thing that she saw of the room was the face of Sirius Black staring at her from where he lay on the bed. She started. He looked so...different. He was considerably thinner, and was unnaturally pale. His face was a good deal gaunter than she remembered, and, there was something about his eyes that unnerved Colette a great deal.
Then she noticed the boy that was sitting next to Sirius's bedside. A boy with messy black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes. He was staring up at her with his mouth slightly open, but she didn't pay attention. She was used to those type of reactions from the male spieces. Colette knew immediately, from seeing his picture in the Daily Prophet, that this was Harry Potter.
"C-Colette?" Sirius sputtered, staring at Colette with wide eyes, forcing her to turn away from staring at the teenage boy at his side. "What...what..."
Swallowing down her emotions, she gave a swift, flashing smile. "Hello, Sirius," she replied smoothly, pretending to give him a quick once-over. He however, didn't seem to notice, and she continued to speak. "And you..." She turned to the boy, who shut his mouth with a snap. "You must be Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."
Suppressing a smile at Harry's reaction to her entrance, she watched him awkwardly say, "Um...hi." He turned to his godfather. "What...?"
"My name is Colette Villons," Colette said quickly, and walked across the room to sit in the seat next to Harry. After explaining who she was and making sure that Sirius remembered her, Colette kindly asked Harry to leave so she could ask Sirius some questions. After the door closed behind him, Colette turned to Sirius, who now not only looked surprised-but also happy, skeptical, and even a little suspicious.
There was a moment of silence. Colette seemed to be waiting for Sirius to speak first. Sirius seemed to be waiting for Colette to speak first. Finally, Sirius opened his mouth.
"Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, huh? Wow, that's...wow." He said, raising an eyebrow at her slightly. "I didn't realize that it was you who took over after Crouch. You sure do move up the ranks, don't you?"
"Yes, I suppose," Colette said carefully, watching her old acquantince warily. "This isn't a visit for pleasure, Sirius. I want to ask you some questions-"
"Well, first, I have a question for you," Sirius interrupted smoothly, bringing a harrased frown onto her face. She hated being interrupted. "What are you doing here?"
Colette blinked. "I said, I'm here to ask you questions-"
"I know what you said," Sirius interrupted once again, waving his hand in the air. A burst of annoyance washed over her at being cut off again, but she grinded her teeth together and restrained from saying anything. *If you let him finish, he'll stop interrupting you,* Colette thought, and forced herself to relax.
"But that doesn't explain what you are doing here," He continued, either demonstrating acting abilities or really not noticing Colette's annoyance as he went on speaking. "Or, more precisely, why you are here. How come you've suddenly taken an interest in me? You didn't take an interest in me when I when I was admitted into the hospital...or fourteen years ago," He added dryly, eyeing Colette with such intuitive in a way that made her uncomfortable.
"Because, Black, things have changed now," Colette replied cooly as she regained her composure, carefully using his last name in an effective way. Sirius's eyes flickered for a moment, but he said nothing. "Now, if you'll just let me-"
"What's changed?"
Sirius was beginning to get on Colette's last nerve. Grinding and curling her toungue against her hard pallate in irritation, she thinned her lips into a narrow line and frowned at Sirius. After a moment, she opened her mouth to speak-the thought had occurred to her that Sirius had a right to know why she was there. Colette sighed. She hated admitting that he was right.
To Sirius, Colette looked as if she was having some sort of internal struggle. Yet again, Sirius raised his eyebrow at her. Colette glanced at him, saw his expression, and shook her head in a mixture of amusement, anger, and exasperation. Sirius Black sure could be exshausting at times.
"The thing is..." Colette began hesitantly, chewing on her bottom lip. For some reason, she didn't really want to tell Sirius that she had only begun to seriously consider his side of the story that very morning, that she had believed him to be a murderer for almost fourteen years, and that she still wasn't one hundred percent sure that he was one hundred percent innocent.
"The thing is..." Sirius prompted her on, watching her carefully.
"It wasn't until this morning that Albus Dumbledore brought it to my attention that there is a possibility that you are innocent," Colette let out in a rush, and then she shifted in her chair. She didn't remember ever feeling this uncomfortable for a long time.
Sirius nodded. He didn't look surprised in the least, but there was a very small trace of sadness on his face.
"That's the case for quite a few people, not finding out the truth until recently, that is," He said heavily. "Harry himself only found out slightly over a year ago at Hogwarts..."
"Yes, I know, Dumbledore told me everything."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
"So do you believe my story? Do you think that it's true?" What Sirius was really asking, although not putting into words, was, "Do you believe me to be a murderer who killed twelve innocent Muggles and betrayed his best friends?"
Now it was Colette's turn to sigh, as she deftly avoided his piercing gaze. "I...well, I..." She sighed again. "I honestly don't know, Sirius. I don't know what to believe...I want to believe you, Sirius, I really do, but I just need more justification than what Dumbledore said. I want primary sources, and physical evidence, if that's possible."
"There is no physical evidence," Sirius said dully. "If there was, I wouldn't be under hospital arrest. I'm not allowed to leave this room, do you know that? I can't leave this *room.* If there was physical evidence, I would be a free man in a home with Harry. But the only physical evidence turned into the rat he is and disappeared that night at Hogwarts."
Colette bit her lip, feeling truly sorry for the pale, thin man lying in a hospital bed in front of her. She wanted it to be true, but she still wasn't positive. She lived by the rule that she didn't believe it until she could see it, but that didn't seem to be working here...
"I'm here to ask you questions," Colette said softly. "And see if there's any way that I can help you."
Sirius looked up, startled. "Help me?"
"Yes," Colette said, looking at him curiously. She had thought that he had already guessed that she was going to try to i help him. "Dumbledore and I both believe that my position in the Ministry can affect whether your having a trial or not, and a fair one at that."
Sirius sat up, suddenly looking very excited. "So your going to fight for me?"
"That all depends, Sirius, on how well you *cooperate.* Now, if you would be ever so cooperative, I would like to ask you some questions."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*The Riddle House, 1:00 A.M. the next morning*
Peter Pettigrew sat in the corner of a large, empty room. Every once in a while he rubbed his shadowed eyes wearily, and was muttering softly to himself about why he was there.
"Master called a meeting...why did Master call a meeting? I'm tired...it's the middle of the night...I need sleep...why did Master call a meeting?"
Pettigrew was *not* in a good mood. He'd gotten very little sleep the past few days after the Death Eater "attack" in Southampton--which had failed horribly. And he was receiving some of the blame. Now, Voldemort had called a meeting for the Death Eaters in the Conference Room at the Riddle House in the middle of the night.
Lucius Malfoy had come up with the idea of calling this room the "Conference Room." Pettigew, personally, didn't like it. He thought it sounded too comfortable and homey for a very big room that had absolutely no furniture-or anything at all-in it. The room looked cold and uninviting, and it hardly deserved the name that had been given to it...but Pettigrew didn't dare argue with Lucius Malfoy.
Any minute now, Death Eaters would be Apparating from all over the country. Pettigrew looked around the room carefully, his quick eyes ready to focus on any sound or movement.
Suddenly, there was a small *pop* sound in the other corner of the room. Pettigrew was startled, the Death Eaters usually Apparated into the center of the room-that was precisely the reason why Pettigrew was huddled in a corner. Scrambling to his feet, he tried to identify the man who was hidden under a black hood. The hood turned his way, and underneath it Pettigrew saw icy cold blue eyes. He shivered. Those eyes belonged to none other than Lucius Malfoy. Pettigrew didn't like Lucius all that much, he found him to be very harsh. He seemed worse than he had been fourteen years ago, for some reason.
Malfoy moved slowly to the other side of the room, not paying any attention whatsoever to Pettigrew, and the other man chose to watch him comfortably from a distance...although he made sure not to watch him too much, he would hate to be reprimanded by him. It had happened before. As he recalled the memory, Pettigrew once again gave a shiver.
Soon, Death Eaters were appearing left and right. Over the next few minutes, they arrived one by one, Apparating from their comfortable homes into the cold, dark room. Pettigrew continued to lurk in the corner.
Once all the loyal and faithful Death Eaters had arrived, they all gathered around in a circle in the center of the room, Pettigrew finally joining them as he fidgeted with the hem of his robes. Directly across from the single door in the room, the Death Eaters left a gap in the circle. Nobody said a word. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, until the old door creaked open, and they all turned to watch their master walk inside.
Voldemort walked into the room and moved through the gap and into the middle of the circle. The two Death Eaters who had been on either side of the gap moved closer together, closing the circle. All the Death Eaters still stood silent, watching their master. Voldemort looked around at them all, and then gave a grin that looked quite frightening.
"I've called you all here this morning," He began in a strong voice. *That's right,* Pettigrew thought sourly. *It's after twelve o'clock. It's morning.* "Because I have a plan."
A plan? The Death Eaters stirred, stealing glances at each other. What sort of plan?
"A plan that greatly involves you, Wormtail," Voldemort continued, ignoring the movement. "But also involves the rest of you."
Pettigrew gave an involuntary gulp, swallowing hard. He wondered how it involved, because the last time he talked about a plan in the middle of the night, Pettigrew had ended up having his right hand cut off...Pettigrew stopped his train of thought right there. *No,* He thought firmly. *That wasn't a sacrifice. Master gave me a wonderful reward for my loyalty.*
"Our last plan failed," Voldemort said in a terrible, cold voice, looking around at the Death Eaters who had been involved in the plan carried out in Southampton. "The plan that could have captured Sirius Black. The plan that could have resulted in Black giving us valuable information, and the plan that would have eliminated one of the people who's been watching over Harry Potter the most."
As he spoke, Voldemort's voice rose in a crescendo and got louder and louder until it filled the whole room with it's sound. Pettigrew flinched slightly.
"And it's very good, for all of you involved in that failure, that the Ministry of Magic believes it to not be an attack by us, and have no way connected it to the capture of Sirius Black. But, now, I have another plan, although it doesn't involve capturing Black. It involves changing the past."
The Death Eaters stirred again, this time a bit uneasily. Voldemort patiently waited for them to be silent, letting the effect of his words truly sink in. Pettigrew was beginning to feel nervous. Time travel? What?
Voldemort reached into the deep folds and pockets of his robes and, after a moment, pulled out two enormous Time Turners, both the size of a small book.
"These," He said softly, holding them very carefully and gazing at them with a sort of reverance. "These are Time Turners that don't time travel in hours, days, weeks, and even months. These travel years." Suddenly, his head jerked up, and he turned to Pettigrew.
"Wormtail!" Voldemort said sharply. Pettigrew inwardly cowered, but physically showed nothing. "Have you guessed what I plan to use these for?"
Not trusting himself to speak because he was so overcome with anxiousness, Pettigrew tentavley shook his head.
"I didn't expect you to," His master said softly, then he grinned a terrible grin that would have terrified most people of the world out of their wits.
"Wormtail, you and I are going to travel back in time almost fourteen years to Halloween, 1981. Do you know what happened Halloween, 1981?"
Pettigrew's head was buzzing, and the familiar date sparked a series of memories inside of him. His eyes widened as he realized exactly what his master was telling him.
"Do you mean to say..." He said slowly. "That we are going to change time?"
"Yes, Wormtail! Yes!" Voldemort cried. "We are going to make sure that I was never defeated, and that I continued my reign of ultimate power! And also..." He sneered suddenly. "We are going to make sure that Harry Potter and Sirius Black never get to see the dawn of November first."
The Death Eaters broke into applause. Their laughter and sounds of cheer carried and echoed all throughout the Riddle House, unheard by anyone other than themselves, and drifted out into the night.
A/N: Oh my gosh you guys must be so angry at me! I'm sorry this took so long! I think I developed some sort of mental block against this chapter or something, and on top that there's school and stuff...whatever it was, this took forever for me to write. (Hey, maybe it was bad luck 13!) :) I don't know how often updates are going to come these days. Definitely not as much as they did before-every three days or so-but I can't really say when they'll come out. It depends on a lot of stuff.
Man, I've been working on this chapter for over a week-almost two-and it's not even that great, either...the beginning doesn't seem to be going ANYWHERE, the end seems too rushed, Voldemort seems too calm. Oy, and the end scene just seems sort of wrong. I don't like this chapter very much.
I can compare Out of the Night to a sort of very demented tree: It doesn't have a trunk, just a heck of a lot of branches that each represent a plotline. Conflicts abound in this story, huh?
CariW: Thanks so much! I haven't really decided on what exactly is Colette's and Sirius's relationship. I have considered romance, but I don't know at this point.
Rozebunny: Thanks! I'm really glad that so many people like it!
Neutral: Haha! There you are! Yep, I'm back, have been back... I'm glad that you see how complicated this is becoming...the Grand Central Station for conflicts, eh? I did have a lot of fun with Harry and Sirius's conversation...in my mind, I'm having no trouble portraying Sirius at all, and I'm glad that you think I'm doing a good job. Doesn't Sirius rock?
I haven't been reviewing Clawtracks of a Star lately! Now I'm the one who's sorry! I tried to review the tenth chapter about four or five times when I came home, but my computer was pissed at me for some reason and kept on crashing...I haven't had the patience since...I'll get around to it at some point. :)
I had a great trip...I go up to this retreat sort of thingy in New Hampshire every year-my family had been going there since the fifties-and I love it there. You've probably never been to the northeast, considering that you live in the west...but heck what do I know? I'm judging from my own experience that I've never been farther west than Baltimore or Philadelphia-which ever is the farthest west, I'm too lazy to look at map.
Yuffie-Girl: I did like Harry's and Sirius's conversation about Ginny, if I do say so myself. :)
Gengi: Thank ya, thank ya very much! Haha, maybe you should email FanFiction.Net because of that problem with your name...there's definitely something going on with your computer or something.
