Sirius' Choice

Chapter Three: Tempting the Darkness

Whimsical Firefly

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and associated characters are property and invention of J.K. Rowling

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Sirius flipped over onto his back on the roomy king-sized bed.

The ceiling looked quite nice actually. Pure white (save for the areas where he and James had set off Doctor Filibusters fireworks and scorched the ceiling slightly). Truth be told, it wasn't the ceiling or the bed, or the colours or the room itself that made James's place his favourite place.

It was the attitude. There was a kind of openness and freedom that was everywhere in the house that had nothing to do with the number of windows and bright lights – although they helped. It was the attitude that James and his parents held that made it so special.

Even despite the attacks of recent times, it was safe here. Nothing bad could ever happen.

James coughed slightly to acquire his friends attention. "If I may, Mr. Padfoot?" he said with a grin, gesturing down at the tray laden with goodies.

Sirius's eyes bulged as he saw all of his favourite foods, and then some he hadn't even tried... yet! "I think you most certainly may Mr. Prongs..."

James laughed and collapsed cross-legged on the floor. "Oh? You mean I may eat all of these by myself? You know I don't mind if I doooo-"

James's comment was cut off as Sirius launched himself from the bed and tackled James. "Never!!" cried Sirius in mock desperation."You shall never have them all!!"

James and Sirius suddenly made eye-contact and burst out laughing.

Sirius released his death grip around James's neck and sat up straight. "Well, I suppose you can have some... but for the most part it's MINE!"

Laughing, the two friends proceeded to demolish their unhealthy (although extremely satisfying) meal.

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James walked Lily back towards the mansion, his thoughts centred on his botched attempt of asking Lily to... well.

Swallowing a sigh James looked down at Lily and then looked back up before she could spot him. He was supposed to be a Gryffindor! He was supposed to be brave.

And admittedly he was, in certain situations. But then there were other situations – such as this one, where he wasn't brave, and could only wish like hell that he was.

This time he didn't bother to swallow his sigh. Lily looked up immediately. "Are you alright James?"

James nodded, eyes on the ground. Then he forced himself to look at her and gave a ghost of a smile. "Just tired I guess. I can't wait to get home."

Lily smiled and slipped her hand into his. "Would you be too tired to play Quidditch when we get back?"

"Depends on which version we're playing really – Sirius and Edana's version or the other one." Replied James, a slight chuckle in his voice.

Lily pursed her lips in mock consideration. "Both are good games, really."

James nodded eagerly. "Very good games in fact."

Lily laughed at the earnest tone in his voice. "I'll tell you what – race you back. If I win, then it's straight Quidditch, if you win..."

"On your marks, get set – GO!" James raced off into the distance, his long legs quickly taking him beyond her sight.

Lily then began to jog complacently back to the mansion. Around her little finger he was, wrapped around her little finger.

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Peter curled up on the couch in front of the open window. There were six more days until term began again, and he intended to enjoy every one of them, by doing what he did best – nothing.

The last term you will ever be at Hogwarts, whispered a part of his brain. Peter stretched out along the sofa, and turned so his face was in the pillow he had brought from his bedroom.

The very last term. With N.E.W.T's as well. He came back to the question he had been attempting to avoid all holiday – not bloody likely with all the books entitled "your future" stacked upon his desk, kindly provided by his mother. What was he going to be once he left school?

His possible careers of what he wanted to do consisted of a short list of one – an Auror. In his mind there was no worthier occupation. But he couldn't do it.

Exasperated with his train of thought, Peter flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The voices of professors throughout his years echoed through his ears.

"A nice boy..."

"Doesn't apply himself"

"Hopeless"

"Average in ability"

"Slightly slow"

And what his friends said when they thought he wasn't listening. Or even when they knew he was

"Where's tag along?"

"Pudgy bastard. He's such a clinger..."

"He doesn't get involved. He just stands around and... looks excited."

"He's part girl the way he laughs."

"And if he gets too involved he always looks like he's about to wet himself!"

And yet they were his best friends. Peter snorted slightly. Said a lot about his social life really. His only friends disliked him.

He tried his best to fit in, but he wasn't as talented at Quidditch, nor was he all that good looking. He'd been blessed with fairly non-descript looks that faded to oblivion next to James and Sirius, and even Remus to a lesser extent. He wasn't as smart as the others – good grades didn't come effortlessly to him as they did to others. To achieve a mark that James, Sirius or Remus might acquire on a bad day, he had to study like a maniac.

And if he studied like a maniac, he would never have any fun.

It was a lose-lose situation. And what with the... well you-know, it wasn't like the numbers of people attending Hogwarts was growing: they were declining instead.

You-know-who was everywhere. Was there any escape?

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Voldemort looked out the window, and smiled grimly at all those who scurried down below.

They were ants. Insects, bugs, spiders, just waiting to be crushed. And they would be crushed by none other than him.

He turned from the window and looked around the room with distaste. He and a few loyal Deatheaters were currently in a muggle hotel room. Do-able enough... at a push. And it was the last place that idiot would think to look for him.

He was playing a game of cat and mouse with Dumbledore. Much to his satisfaction, he was winning. At the moment in fact, the score was so greatly in his favour, it would now be impossible for him to catch up.

He had as good as won. Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. Well, nearly.

The war would never be won so long as there were still muggles, and mudbloods, and mudblood loving purebloods.

But really and truthfully – where should he stop? Half-bloods, knowing he was a hallf-blood himself? Quarter bloods? Three-quarter bloods?

There was no clear answer. But that was not his immediate concern.

A new thought had begun to plague him. One of his Death Eaters had mentioned it to him. Not for long of course, because his suggestions had been proptly cut off with the cruciatius curse. However, after the screams had faded, the implications of what the Death-Eater said had begun to haunt him.

Damn it. He should have used the Avada Kedavra and gotten it over with. Oh well. Never too late...

"The wizarding world has never lived in full darkness for long. Soon, people will contest your rights my lor-ahhhhhhhhhh!"

And damn him - he might be right. Even now he knew Dumbledore and the others plotted against him. Although he was confident of his victory, worry still nagged him.

There had to be some way to ensure that it all went well. His thoughts more recently had been returning unerringly to the possibility of immortality.

If he was immortal, then perhaps the darkness would never end. Maybe his hold could be loosened occasionally, but he would always come back – stronger, deadlier, and much more powerful.

Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. The only question now was how.

'The Old magick' whispered the voice inside his head.

Voldemort considered the advice. The voice had never lead him astray before.

Before he could fully begin to understand all the ramifications, an external voice interrupted.

"My lord?" The voice was velvet smooth, and equally soft. Voldemort knew instantly who had disturbed him.

"Come in..." through the corner of the eye he could see his servant nod slightly and enter the disgustingly bright hotel room. The servant stood, and did not unveil itself, as was it's wont.

"Was there something troubling you?"

The servant nodded again slightly.

"And why should it be my concern?"

"Because... well...The attack on the Potters. It shouldn't have..."

The voice trailed off as Voldemort turned slightly to face the servant. "Do you love me?"

The servant looked up from the floor as if in shock. "Of course, master. You know I could never..."

"Fool." Hissed Voldemort, advancing on the servant, causing a small quiver to pass through it.

Voldemort stopped slightly short of the servant, and then spoke again. "But so long as you love me." He lifted his hand and surveyed it distantly. Pale, smooth... slightly bony if one wished to be overtly critical.

Then he reached over and removed the servants veil. Running a delicate hand over his servants face he marvelled at the pale, unblemished perfection. Then with a mocking laugh he performed the Cruciatus curse and watched the servant writhe on the ground.

As the servant writhed upon the ground before him, Voldemort found that their perfection was so greatly enhanced. Beauty is after all, in the eye of the beholder

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Padfoot pricked his ears as he heard a noise in the background.

It sounded like laughter. Familiar laughter...

Sirius thought for a moment. Could it be?

Padfoot quickly ran in the direction of that he thought the noise had come in.

It wasn't far, maybe a few metres, but it seem to take an age for Padfoot to reach the source of the noise.

Peeking out through the underbrush he saw Lily run past laughing. Even in his canine form he thought Lily was beautiful. She looked so alive and happy as she ran, her hair whipping around in the wind.

He watched as Lily ran closer to him, and then suddenly kneeled sown and swore.

Sirius was amused to hear Lily swear as dabbed at her ankle. He didn't think little Lilyflower knew how to swear.

She finally tied a hankie around her ankle and stood up straight. Relieved, he watched as Lily looked around and then started running again, favouring her ankle slightly. After a moments deliberation, Padfoot followed stealthily behind.

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Lily ran out of the forest, handkerchief tight around her ankle.... And then slowed. James was standing just outside, stock still.

If she's been running faster then she would have crashed into him. As it was, she merely stopped behind his shoulder and then walked around.

It was no need to ask what had him poleaxed. In the direction of James' house was a skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. The Dark Mark... The mark of Voldemort. Capable of turning any wizard or witches heart to ice.

She slipped an arm inside James' and looked up at him. "James... it might not be your house. It could still be alright."

James was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. His eyes stayed fixed ahead on the Dark mark. "No." his voice was wooden, without emotion. "No, that's...that's my house."

"You don't know that!" Lily cried, frustrated with James refusal to meet her eyes and his seeming lack of emotion.

"I do!" James stepped away from her and turned to face her. His voice was angry but his red-rimmed eyes told a different story. "Trust me on this Lily! My father TAUGHT me how to spot my house from this spot. That's it!"

Looking down an then turning straight ahead again. He crossed his arms as though he had a chill.

Lily nodded slowly, not fully comprehending. "But...well... Merlin. Should we go there and see if anyone survived?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realised it was a foolish question. No-one had ever survived a raid. After all, there had only been James' mother and father...

Lily's eyes widened in shock. Sirius and Edana! They'd been there too!

Anxiously tugging on his sleeve, Lily looked up at him determinedly. When he didn't look down she spoke instead. "James! Sirius and Edana! They were there too!"

James looked down distantly, and nodded. "In that case, the best that we can hope for is that they're dead." Then seeming to snap out of his indecision he bridged the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her.

"Come on.. we've got to get out of here in case there are Death Eaters still lurking."

Lily nodded and tried to withhold her sobs as they apparated in unison to Diagon Alley.

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Padfoot hid in the bushes listening to James' soft voice and Lily's tearful one. Just as he was about to leap out of the bush and grab them both away from any remaining danger, the two apparated out of the field – presumably to somewhere safer.

Transforming back to human form, Sirius shook his head at the sky above him. "Dammit! How am I supposed to change anything when I can't even get close to any of my friends?"

There was no answer. Sirius hadn't really expected one. Spitting out the corner of his mouth, Sirius stalked back into the forest. He didn't know where he was going exactly, but he wanted to go somewhere where he might be of use.

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Authors Note: Sorry that this chapter took longer than it was supposed to to come out, it had to be rewritten and such. It was fairly dodgy.

Anyways... Thankyou's! Thankyou to all who reviewed, you're all bloody legends! ::kneels down in front of reviewers and starts bowing::

Thanks as always goes to James Milamber, my wonderful beta - and the only one who's honest enough to tell me when I'm doing a crap job. Thanks mate! (I'm not being sarcastic or anything - really, thankyou!)

Finally, please let me know what you think about this chapter, because I'm really unsure about it. Thanks! The fourth chapter shall not be long in coming...