The Choice of Silence:
Chapter VII: Lies.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry… ::sighs:: why do you make me repeat this? Why? I own the Silcála and Afterlife universe though (it just came to me I've never said this -)
Avlyn: I'm glad you liked it - I love Sirius… why did he have to die?!
evanescence5: I like Harry/Sirius father and son relationships too… I still believe Sirius is Harry's father in disguise (j/k)…
AN: I'm sure that after this chapter some will wonder if this will be a slash fanfic. Well, even though I like slash, this fanfic will NOT have it.
AN2: Does anyone want to be my Beta-Reader? My Beta has deserted me… ::sighs::
"So, we need to put some more lizard's skin,"
Harry and Sirius were both in Harry's room, trying to make a Bluey-Hairy Potion, as Sirius liked to call.
To tell the truth, they were trying to mix some Polyjuice Potion with blue hair dye; they figured as the Polyjuice made the person becomes someone else using a part of their body, what would happen, they thought, if you put, instead of a bit of the person, some hair dye?
Obviously, they had to change some ingredients so they didn't actually turn into bottle of hair dye – they weren't exactly sure if these would indeed happen but none of them wished to actually try the potion to find out. So, naturally, they took out the part that made the person turn into another.
It wasn't easy, as Harry was never good at Potions but Sirius, he had found, actually knew how brew them rightly.
"What do we do now?" Harry asked Sirius as he put the final and most important ingredient – the hair dye.
"Now, we wait," came Sirius' crypt answer.
"Wait what? Have you ever done this before?"
"Oh yeah," Sirius grinned widely and Harry couldn't help but think, evilly, "with green dye. It didn't work well, we were trying to get Snape but… er, well, the cauldron exploded just when Lily, yes Lily, was passing by…" he chuckled, "I reckon your father was still begging for forgiveness a week later."
Harry smiled at this, but he frowned as he realised what it implied, "that… means you don't know this will work!"
"Well… just because it didn't work out the first time…"
"Sirius…"
"…okay, there is a possibility it won't work but still—"
"I can't teach classes with blue hair!"
Sirius cracked a grin, "it'd be funny," he said but closed his mouth and looked down immediately when he saw Harry was giving him a death glare that rivalled Snape's, "hum, don't worry. It will work out…" there was an little explosion in the cauldron and he quietly added, "I hope…"
"You'd better." Harry muttered as he quickly when to help his dear Godfather.
Later that day, Harry was heading to the Great Hall, still with black hair. The Potion hadn't exactly worked but, thankfully, Harry had not been a victim of Sirius' mistakes. Thankfully for him – who really wouldn't like to have blue hair – and to Sirius – who would very much like to be alive to see the next day.
Even though with the possible – and almost imminent – danger, he'd enjoyed their prank session. It made him wonder if it'd be like that on Earth, had he not died. Would he be living with Sirius? Or would he live with James? Perhaps with both, he didn't know what would – had – happened after he died.
It wasn't the first time he'd wondered what happened after his death; had James missed him? He didn't care much, anymore.
When he was still on his firsts years of Hogwarts, all he wanted was his parents back, Lily and James back. After he died, he had time to think properly – you wouldn't imagine having a Dark Lord after you would take away so much of your time, he though amused – he came to the conclusion he hadn't actually wanted his parents but a parent figure. Pity he hadn't realised it before too late…
THUD THUD THUD!
He stilled abruptly. What the hell… footsteps! He turned quickly and just in time to see the end of – what he thought to be – a black cloak. Harry hesitated a bit before following it.
The Figure entered an abandoned classroom; Harry entered it as well, trying to be as quiet as possible.
The window was opened and there was a piece of parchment on a table near it.
He closed his eyes trying his best to calm down and pick up the parchment:
Harry or should I say, Master Shinhi?
You don't know me nor have you heard of me. Therefore, allow me to introduce myself: I'm Nemesis, a Master of Lómë, just like you, although not from your precious Silcála.
I've been watching you for sometime now. News came to me that a Mage was at the Academy… Impossible! But then, I saw you; so young yet so very powerful – just like myself.
I wanted you. You powers, your strength… You.
I wish you to join me, you and I together could rule everything… everyone. You still have got much to learn; I look forward to teaching you all the experience you lack. Be mine. We could be a magnificent team. Be my apprentice… my pet.
Nemesis.
Harry could only stare at it. Who was this… Nemesis? Really? Why he had so much hatred for the Order?
His eyes travelled through the last paragraphs.
…Be mine…
It was sick! The "join me" part would have be expected but this? It was sickening, it was nauseous! It would never happen! Harry would rather fade forever, to leave existence…
…my apprentice… my pet…
Harry stepped back, oblivious to his surroundings until he was cornered at a wall… he fell to his knees, breathing hard.
He was afraid.
For the first time in his life, he was truly afraid. Afraid of what would happen to him. It felt strange; all his life he was scared for someone else – never for himself. It was new to him.
And he didn't like that.
He closed his eyes. No. He wouldn't let it happen… he wouldn't let this… Nemesis lay a hand of him…
He'd kill him first.
Anger turned into more fear. Could he? Nemesis himself had told him he lacked experience… And, Harry knew it also. Could he kill Nemesis?
Would he be able to live the consequences of killing someone?
True, he had killed Voldemort but he didn't live after that – he'd died with him… and that was not an option now.
Despair, now, turned into more fear.
What if he wasn't able to kill the Master? That wasn't a hard possibility, after all. He'd have to live with Nemesis as a… slave? Why would Nemesis want him that way? It was terrible! It was inhuman! It was…
…the worst think that could happen to him.
Harry's hand turned into a fist; one blow and another and another, sequences of punches against the stoned walls. He stopped, tired as tears fell from his eyes – trailing down his face. He slowly fell to the ground, his legs unable to keep him standing. Why me? Why me?
"WHY ME?!"
Sobs try to take over his body but Harry holds them at bay. What should he do? He tried to calm himself taking deep breaths. Sirius… Sirius, he thought, he can't know! He'd try to hunt this Nemesis down or…
Or he would try to protect him.
He took another deep breath, shoving the letter into his pocket and putting his best smile – a façade, he knew. But Sirius couldn't find out anything. He had enough to worry about – worry about his, Harry's, mission.
At the back of his mind a trail of guilt hit him but he shook his head, it wasn't time for this. He had plans to make; the mission ceased to be only his the moment this traitor appeared. It was a mission of the whole Order. I'll… call the High Master and get help! He smiled slightly despite the serious situation.
The game was about to begin.
And this brought to him a strange comfort…
The comfort he so desperately needed.
Although Harry hadn't seen it, on the bottom of the letter, written in a very small handwriting was: If not willingly… then unwillingly.
Sirius knew something happened the moment Harry entered the Great Hall. Harry's face looked drained, tired… worried. He wondered the reason; it couldn't be the mission, could it?
He looked at Harry while his godson sat down; Harry noticed his stare and smiled.
"Are… is everything alright?"
Harry blinked. "Yes, why wouldn't everything be?"
Sirius nodded slowly before turning back to his plate. A lie. And both knew it. Something happened to Harry before he entered the Great Hall… he was worried about his godson but he couldn't do anything about it. He felt helpless… powerless to help him.
And all he could do was wait…
And wait…
And wait…
The problem was he didn't like waiting – he wasn't a patient man. Yet, he would…
He couldn't do much else.
"High… High Master?" Harry couldn't help but ask nervously.
There was a pause. "I take you have received a letter."
Harry breathed in surprised, "how do you…"
He heard the High Master sigh, "child, I know this – because I received one too. A bit different, I suppose, but from Nemesis, nonetheless. My letter," he hesitated for a second, "spoke also about… you."
"What did it say?" Harry voice was not above a whisper – he hated the fact it resembled one of a scared child; I must be strong…
"Probably what it said in yours – what Nemesis wants…" If Harry could see the High Master, he'd notice the small sad smile on his face. "Now," the tone of his voice changed so quick it surprised Harry, "I'll will send help. Try and find as much information you can… I fear this will be a terrible war – Nemesis is very powerful; he and his servants. Most of them are Masters of Lómë. Be careful."
Harry nodded somberly, "I will."
The High Master's voice softened, "you are very brave, Harry Potter. I admire you." But before Harry could say anything, the high Master shut the bina leaving Harry to wonder at the words.
He couldn't help to feel a bit proud of himself, after all he was the one who always had admired the High Master.
He walked to the velvet chair in front of the fireplace with a small smile on his face and sat down. This talk had calmed him, somehow. He didn't know the reason, perhaps it was the way the High Master handled things – always calm, in control.
"Harry?"
Harry turned and smiled at Sirius, inviting him, silently, to join him. Sirius did so. They spent a few minutes in silence, staring at the fire.
It was Sirius who spoke first, "I've got news."
This drew Harry's complete attention. With his eyes, he urged Sirius to continue.
"Dumbledore said he got a strange letter from an unknown person. He didn't say much about it, but I could see he was very disturbed…" he stopped and for a few seconds just stared at nothing. Then, he shook his head, as if trying to shake his confusion away. "What I don't understand," he turned his head to Harry, "is who sent that letter. Dumbledore said it was not Voldemort… Could it be a distraction? A diversion that Voldemort sent so we stopped focusing on him?" He stayed quiet for a moment, "but that's so unlike him…"
Harry stayed still for the whole dialogue, not quite looking into Sirius' eyes. Harry was sure that, if he did so, Sirius would notice he knew something…
Sirius continued, "do you have any idea of what it might be? Your Order didn't tell you anything?"
"No… why," he swallowed, "why would I know?" He stopped for a moment, "Can't it be Voldemort? Or a-a Death Eater?"
Sirius' eyes narrowed in suspicion, "you are stuttering."
"It… it must be the cold."
Sirius nodded, slowly; suspicion never completely living his eyes. "I guess so…" he looked at the clock, "it's late… I think we both need to sleep as much as we can."
"I... I think I'm staying here for a little more,"
Sirius frowned slightly and he turned to leave, "night, Harry."
Harry stayed still until he left, only then sighing in relief. Yet, he was still worried.
They both knew Harry was lying.
TBC…
I haven't updated in a long time and I will not give any excuse. The reason is short and simple, I lost interest on the story and on Harry Potter in general. I will try my best to complete it – and I will even if it takes me 10 years.
Last but not least, please R&R! I need to know what you think of the story AND of my writing! I need to most direct and truthful criticism!