CHAPTER 50: A Wintry Homecoming (Part 4)
Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom
October 31st, 1993
9:35 p.m.
As Remus sat on his desk, parchments all around him during his process of crafting the midterm exam for the fifth-years, the door to his office barged open. Immediately, his muscle memory kicked in, and he stood, wand trained on his attacker and a curse tearing at his lips. But he stopped as he saw it was only Harry at the door.
"Harry," Remus chuckled. "God, you scared me."
The boy was different today. While he always held an ill-tempered look, this was different. He had bloodshot eyes, his fists were trembling, and though he wasn't holding a wand. It was clear that was what he wanted at the moment.
"…Harry?"
"You…" His voice came out strangled, as if his very body was trying to force it inside. "You lied to me."
His heart dropped, and Remus staggered slightly. "Harry?"
"You… you went on about your life at Hogwarts. All the pranks you pulled, the relationship you had with your friends… how could you not tell me one of them was my father?"
"Harry, I can explain."
"Then please, do!" He shouted. "Explain to me why you kept this hidden from me for nearly two months. Explain to me why I had to find this out on my own. Explain to me… why you weren't part of my life since the very beginning!"
"It's more complicated than that, Harry. God know I wanted to. Ever since you were born, there was nothing more that I wanted to do than to see you grow up and live the life you were meant to live?"
"Then why didn't I? Why was I… dropped off to the Dursleys like some piece of rubbish rather than you taking care of me?"
"Because I couldn't! I tried, Harry. Fuck, I tried. But… they wouldn't let someone… someone like me… to take care of someone like you." Remus gulped. "And they were right… you were better off not knowing me."
"You left me!" He cried out, and the agonizing look he had nearly made Remus fall on his knees. "Alone! Sirius betrayed my parents while Peter got himself killed… but you… you left me. Everything would have been so much different if you had just been there. My life with the Dursleys. Montague. The D-" His voice cut off abruptly, and his face began to darken. "It was you. It could've been different… It could've all been different. It was all your fault."
"Harry, what are you talking about?"
"My life went to shit the moment my parents died, and you left! Everyone left. The reason everything went to shit was because you weren't there!"
"I wasn't fit to be your guardian, Harry… I-"
"I DON'T CARE!" He roared. "I needed you… I needed… but you left…" Tears were flowing down his face as his eyes looked a thousand times older. "You all left.
The boy turned around and began walking away.
"Harry, wait," he reached out.
"D-don't you touch me!" He snarled. "Don't you even look at me!" His eyes burned with a fire he had seen various times in Lily's own. And his voice trembled as he spoke. "I will never forget… and I will never forgive… and I'll make sure that one day… you'll suffer for your choice as much as I did."
St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
December 25th, 1995
3:00 p.m.
The hospital room was bright and shiny, almost glowing white all over. It was also entirely decorated, with a Christmas tree in the corner with a mass of gifts oiled up under it, Nine stockings above the bed, all different colours and with each one of their names. Red and white twisted tinsel spread around the top of every wall and a wreath on the door.
Christmas had never failed to be his favourite holiday, at least until today. It was hard feeling any bit of joy with his father unconscious and near death. It had been various days since he had been attacked in an Order mission, and he had still not woken up. His mother had tried to hide it, but he could tell she was getting more worried every day.
The whole family was there, even Charlie had left Romania to be there. He and Bill were talking in hushed tones by the corner. Fred and George sat on the bed beside his father's, gloomy and quiet, he hadn't seen them like that since his father nearly tore off their heads for almost tricking him into making an Unbreakable Vow. And sitting on either side of his father were his mum and Ginny.
All that was missing was Percy.
The massive prat. Couldn't even show up as his father was knocking on death's door. His absence was glaring, even as no one spoke of it. His mother grew even more distraught by it, and all of his brothers were downright furious. But the few times they muttered his name, their mother completely shut them down and began crying again.
"He-he's busy with work," she kept saying. "He'll be here as- as soon as he can be. I know it."
As angry as everyone was at Percy, no one dared defy their mother and make her more upset. Unfortunately, the decision was taken out of their hands when the door opened, and they stepped in. A tall, blond woman with a red haired girl, both wearing pristine robes, carrying a bouquet of flowers, and having the gall to appear overwrought by the scene in front of them.
"What are you doing here?" Bill growled, immediately getting in between them and their mother.
"We… we heard what happened." The woman said, ignoring Bill and looking straight at his mother. "We just wanted to make sure you were okay, Molly."
"Don't you speak with her. Don't you even look at her!"
"It's okay, sweetheart," His mother said, tiredly standing up and pushing her son away. "You're not welcome here."
"We're family, Molly-"
"You're not family… your husband was." Her voice was strangled. "Before he sold out my brothers to the Death Eaters and got them murdered."
"How dare you!" The girl, Mafalda, snarled. "My father was a good man."
"Your father was a filthy snake," Fred said. "Just like you."
"This was a mistake," Mafalda's mother - Grace Prewett - said as a tear fell from her eye. "I'm sorry if I caused any distress to you and your family. I do hope Arthur gets better, Molly. And I'm sorry… for everything."
"Just… leave. Please."
"I'm so sorry," the woman said, and a moment later the door closed. His mother went back to his father's side, gripping his arm as she composed herself. All the while, his brothers fumed silently at the unwelcome visit. Fred, though, wasn't quite as silent.
"Those fucking vipers," he barked out. "Their nerve. What did they think? That they were going to show up and make it all right? As if they hadn't betrayed their family for a bag of galleons and a new, shiny position at the Ministry. Bastards, all of them."
"Remind you of anyone?"
"Don't you dare!" His mother snapped, shouting so hard the whole room went silent. Her voice was strangled, disrupted between sobs. "Percy isn't like Hartley. Percy… he's a good man, he's a good boy. He's just… confused. He'll come around, you'll see. You'll see."
"It's okay, mum," Charlie said, walking over to her and hugging her. "You're right. He'll be here. He's still our brother. We're still a family."
The words must have felt like a knife stabbing at his throat, but Charlie said them without hesitation. Ron felt his heart ache by his mother's cries and whimpers. He closed his eyes and tried to tune them out, a futile attempt.
"You're right." He finally said, hating every word. "Percy's a Weasley and he's not a snake like them, he'll come around."
"Being a Slytherin doesn't make someone evil," Ginny suddenly spoke.
"How can you say that?" George asked. "After all the pain they've caused our family, for God's sake, You-Know-Who was a Slytherin. His Death Eaters too!"
"Harry Potter is one as well. And he saved me. Saved Ron."
"He's a murderer!" Fred snapped. "Sure, he saved you. But did you not see what he did? He murdered those men, in the most heinous and brutal ways, he blew them all to hell. No remorse, not even a shred of guilt. And maybe they deserved to die, perhaps it was the right decision to kill them. But to do so in such a way… how can someone who's good, someone who's human, be able to do such a thing without being shaken up?"
"They murdered Susan right in front of him!" Ginny stood up. "They were attacking him, there was no other way."
"What about Montague?" Ron asked. "Did he deserve to die as well?"
"I… well…"
"Did you not see the pictures?" Bill said. "Ginny, for God's sake, he carved his entire face. Dislodged his legs."
"Tracey killed him! The Aurors said so himself, they wouldn't have sent her to Azkaban if he did it. You're just taking something Hermione and Neville are saying and acting as if that's the truth."
"He killed him, Ginny." Ron said. "Even the Order knows that, why else would have Sirius locked him up if he didn't deserve it."
"What Sirius did…" His mother spoke up. "It was monstrous. To treat a mere boy like that, and snap his wand no less… he didn't deserve that."
"You can't be serious, mum." Fred said. "He's a murderer!"
"He's just a boy!" His mother's voice cracked. "A boy without a father, a mother. What he needed was help, not a beating."
"He's a Slytherin, mum. You and dad taught us to not trust them, to not even talk to them."
"Yes, but not to beat them up! Not to… to play cruel pranks on them! Slytherins are vile and dangerous, and I stand by what I taught all of you. But Harry… he's a boy, and he saved your sister. He saved you, Ron! That at least should have earnt him a warm welcome, not to have him beaten up by thugs twice his age and sentenced to a cell with no chance of doing magic ever again."
The words were met with an overbearing silence, but none of them looked convinced by their mother's words. Harry wasn't just a murdered, he was also an arsehole. One that had antagonized Neville at every chance he had this year, one who attacked him and stalked Hermione until she gave him access to the DA. He murdered Montague, and even though he saved him in the Three Broomsticks, he still betrayed the DA to Umbridge and picked a fight with them over and over again.
He may have saved them that day, but it didn't change who he was. A bloodthirsty bastard, an arsehole, a venomous pest that had plagued their lives over this past year.
Suddenly, completely pushing him out of his mind and dispelling the silence in the room, his father groaned, slowly beginning to move as his eyes fluttered open. The argument immediately cast out of their minds, the entire family rallied around their father's bed as he slowly acclimated to his new surroundings.
"Arthur?" His mother said, tears trickling down her eyes as a smile broke through her face.
"Molly dear?" His voice was groggy, his eyes almost unseeing. "Where… kids?"
"Yeah," Bill said.
"It's us, dad." Charlie added.
"My, is it Christmas already?"
Molly laughed heartily, placing a kiss on his father's forehead without letting go off his arm. And Ron, for the first time in all Christmas day, smiled.
Malfoy Manor
3:15 p.m.
Malfoy Manor was smaller than Parkinson Palace, a more recent structure, and one built by a lesser family. However, it was precious to Death Eater history. The birthplace of the order itself, it became the main meeting hall for the sparse meetings the Dark Lord held. It hadn't been used since the past war, the last meeting helmed at the graveyard that housed his resurrection.
The call hadn't been surprising. Though the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters were vastly different in this timeline compared to his own, there were certain events he was sure would stay constant.
They were all here. The twenty-one men who formed the current Death Eater ranks. Some of them were killed in the first war, the others made prisoners and sent to atone for their sins in a place worse than hell.
Every man and woman here had earned their place in his watch list for the most dangerous threats to his crusade. Each proficient in their own domain. Here lay the most vicious killers, the most skilled of duellers, the most brilliant minds in the dark arts. Manipulators. Politicians. Inventors. Fighters. There was a reason the Death Eaters were so feared. They weren't merely a gang of thugs lacking intelligence or expertise.
Becoming a part of the inner circle required you to impress the Dark Lord himself. That's what differentiated them to the foot soldiers the Dark Lord used as canon fodder. Every person here had the potential of becoming a Dark Lord in their own right.
And yet, they all knelt to him as he entered.
Disfigured and scaly, with red eyes and slits for a nose. There was a reason even the darkest of wizards cautioned on delving into necromancy and resurrection. It was vile, perverted… as the very act of splitting your soul. He often wondered why a man would do such a thing to himself.
He bowed with them, ridding his mind of any and all thoughts and creating a blank slate for the Dark Lord to read in case he got curious. He couldn't see it through everyone else's mask, but he was sure they were all doing the same. Though only a couple of individuals within the inner circle could challenge the Dark Lord's Legilimency abilities, no one was willing to let out any thought the Dark Lord would find… unwanted.
Ares walked behind him, his mask a black demon's head with horns, it wasn't hard to single him out from the rest. And while his head was inclined, he stood taller than everyone else. Which made him the most dangerous Death Eater in the room.
The Dark Lord walked to the throne. Crafted with the bones of all his victims, and standing at twenty-feet tall. Ares remained behind, kneeling at the foot of the throne as the Dark Lord walked up to the stairs.
They remained knelt until the Dark Lord reached his sit and gave the command. The room was filled with silence for a moment before he spoke.
"What has been of Britain since my departure?" He asked, his tone cold and empty.
"My Lord," Zeus spoke. "The Minister has been secured without a need to resort to the Imperius Curse. We control the Ministry… the Wizengamot, however, is not yet in our grasp. We have begun the induction process with several neutral families, but tackling the opposing families is a greater risk. The moment we begin the process with them, we risk exposure."
"All in due time," the Dark Lord said. "Our current priority stays with maintaining our secrecy for as long as possible."
"My Lord," Nemesis spoke, and Bedivere immediately grew alarmed. "There is a current threat to our secrecy that must be dealt with."
"Is there… what is it?"
"Harry Potter, my Lord. A foolish boy causing scandal. He murdered a student, Graham Montague, earlier this year and framed another for his crimes. This may be of little matter to you, I'm sure, however, his latest exploit isn't. Attacked by some brutes posing as Death Eaters, this has led the DMLE to consider the fact that we may be active once more."
"The situation was handled, my Lord," Tartarus said. "I assure you, the Daily Prophet continues to defame the Neville Longbottom and Albus Dumbledore, as well as shutting down any notions of your return or of the Death Eaters reforming."
"And yet, the root of the situation still stands," Nemesis persisted. "Unless dealt with, Harry Potter may rise to be a larger inconvenience in the future."
"On that, I agree, Nemesis. Ares will see to it that the boy won't be a nuisance, and if needed, he'll silence him."
"As my Lord commands." Ares bowed.
"As for the pretenders and anyone in their orbit… it is your duty, Nemesis, to find them and show them what befalls upon those who dare take the Death Eater's name in vain."
"Yes, my Lord," Nemesis said with a bow.
"Any other matter that requires my attention?"
"My Lord," Thanatos said. "Greyback has joined us once more. As have various clans of Trolls and Giants. We have also succeeded in breeding a horde of Acromantulas, as well as beginning the process with our army of Inferi."
"Well done. They will certainly be of use in the coming conflict. I wish to meet with Greyback personally."
"I'll arrange it, my Lord."
"Excellent. For now… we must begin with our second step. While secrecy is still of the utmost importance, so is justice. For our fellow Gods have been chained and thrown away. We cannot let this stand any longer… we'll be retrieving the rest of our forces shortly… and with them… our greatest weapon."
"My Lord," Adikia spoke, making his way in front of the throne. "You have doubted my commitment to our cause, and with good reason. But while I may have sold out fellow members of this inner circle for my freedom, I assure you… they were all traitors."
"What is it you are claiming, Adikia?" Circe asked with a silky yet menacing tone.
"With you… I may have been mistaken. But with the others, I was not. They don't deserve to be freed with the rest of our loyal comrades."
"Indeed… which is why I will deal with them if they are found guilty." The Dark Lord said. "But not before I confirm it to the fullest of my abilities."
Everyone in the room shuddered. A part of their initiation to the Inner Circle was for the Dark Lord to search around every corner of one's mind. It was a crude, painful process that was the worst type of torture imaginable. Various didn't survive the process, and those who did could still feel the effects to this day.
"And if you are lying to me, Adikia, know that you will suffer a fate worse than death."
St Jerome's Graveyard, Godric's Hollow
7:00 p.m.
Snow fell on the gray stone laying in front of him. The sun had long faded, and the cold was almost unbearable with the meagre rag he was wearing. Even with his full beard - long, grimy, and unhygienic - keeping his face warm, he was still cold. His hands were shaking, though they always did that nowadays, and he could feel the dried tears that had turned his face sticky.
He had lost time long ago, standing there in the freezing cold, staring at his mistake. Standing above the two bodies of the people he killed. The people he once had the gall of calling family, the ones he betrayed with his actions. How could he have had the nerve to do such a thing, to infect the lives of those wonderful people, people who had foolishly believed in him and taken him in.
He had brought nothing but sorrow and despair to their lives. He had failed them, failed their son, failed his surrogate parents and every other person who was stupid enough to think him capable of change, of redemption.
But there was none for him. Redemption was nothing but a fairy tale, a romanticized concept present in novel after novel to convince monsters they can be anything but what they were born to be. He had been a fool to think that, to think that he could escape his family's expectations of him and become a good man.
Twelve years in Azkaban was a light sentence of the punishment he deserved after the myriad of mistakes he had made in his youth. The rash actions that had cost the Order time and time again. James and Lily Potter hadn't been the only people he had gotten killed, just the ones closest to him.
"I'm sorry," his voice was scratchy after being silent for so long. "This is my fault… all of this is my fault. I shouldn't-" His voice cut out, and he shuddered.
Fourteen years since they had died, and he hadn't brought himself to visit them. A part of him felt shame over that fact, but it was overcome with the surge of pride he felt after he had earnt that privilege. After all, how could he show his face to them when he had allowed their son to be twisted into a monster, one that was allowed to rampage over innocents without supervision?
Snape enabled him and Dumbledore ignored him, but not anymore.
"I stopped him, James. Your son. And for once…" Another tear fell down his eye. "I'm glad you're dead. I am so glad you aren't here to see the monster your son grew to be. I… I wasn't there. I was an idiot and chased off against the bastard… and because of it, I couldn't save him from becoming a monster. And I will never be able to forgive myself for that. But the best I could do… to honour his memory, your memory, was to stop him before he could hurt anyone else. Before he could disparage your name and your image in the same way he has."
His legs gave out from under him, and he crashed on his knees to the floor.
"I'm sorry, James… I should have saved him. Should have raised him, just as you wanted me to… but Snape got his talons on to him before I could do anything. And now… he's a Slytherin - a snake - just like my bastard brother. And just like him… the house twisted him and turned him into someone I cannot recognise. And yet… I can't even look at him because he's so much like you. Can't even bear the sight of watching my brother act like the murderers we fought - the animals that took everything from us."
There was no voice, no response. Only the cold, cruel wind that had tormented him for the past few hours.
"ANSWER ME!"! The scream was primal. Tears trailed down his cheeks and his throat gave out. "Just… please… say something."
But they wouldn't. They were dead. Gone. Murdered.
And it was all his fault.
The Grangers were still at Shadowfield, having a nice family Christmas. Remus had left earlier this morning, and he doubted he would return until past midnight. He couldn't go back there, the mere thought of being forced to participate in a family Christmas, acting as if everything were nice and sweet, made him want to vomit.
He may have been banned from his own house, exiled like a rabid brute, but it was still his family home. And though Dumbledore controlled the wards rather than him, the house still recognised his blood.
So long as he wasn't noticed, he could gain access.
The Weasleys were at St Mungo's, the rest of the Order should be celebrating with their families. Which meant it should be alone. Even then, he wasn't taking any chances, placing a disillusionment charm on himself right before he apparated to the door, Sirius placed his wand on the knob and let out a breath as it had no reaction to him.
The door creaked open, and as he stepped inside, he grew more sure by the lack of anyone within the manor. But it only lasted for a second as the darkness began falling upon him.
"Traitor! Filthy bastard!"
Even after all these years, those dulcet tones of his mother haunted him. He could feel her breath on the back of his neck as she followed him around. And in front of him, as he went about each room, he saw memories.
Saw his father as he held him onto one of the railings of the stairs and beat him when he was thirteen. Saw his mother launching stinging jinxes at him as he was forced to set the table when he was seven. Saw his brother pleading for him not to go with the Potters when he was fifteen. Saw the misery that was his life - one he once thought was a living hell before he was sent to the actual one.
When he reached the door to the basement, he stopped. His hand hovered above the doorknob, and he gritted his teeth. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, before forcing himself to grip the knob and open the door. And with every step down, he felt his ribs jam into his chest. It only grew worse as he found his quarry, sitting in a fresh bed, as the inside of the cell looked more like a hotel room than a prison.
Potter noticed him immediately, but unlike last time, his eyes didn't blare at the sight of him. His gaze didn't last before it returned to his hands.
"You're a monster," he said.
"That's funny," Sirius snorted bitterly. "I was about to say the same thing to you."
He didn't answer right away, keeping his eyes on his hand with a blank expression he had never seen in James' face. He looked beaten, utterly defeated. And though a part of him cheered in victory, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand at the wrongness he felt from it.
He's a murderer. He reminded himself. He's not James. He sold Remus out and murdered another student without a shred of remorse. He deserved what he got.
"You know…" the boy finally spoke. "When I found out… I dreamed of the day I could find you. So that I could kill you. Beat you. Ask you." Looking up, he stared right into his eyes. "How can someone betray their friends… people who loved you… trusted you… so completely and colossally… and still sleep at night?"
Sirius looked away, hearing James' voice condemning him so completely… "And who says I do?"
"You know… you may have not been there that night… you may not have been with the group that killed them… but you were the one that sentenced them nonetheless. And one day… I will kill you for that."
"Yes… their blood is on my hands," his voice rang hollow. "I can feel it every day. That wet and sticky feeling that reminds me of the role I played in their deaths… but I would have never ever betrayed them. Not intentionally, at least."
"Don't lie," he growled.
"I'm not. I am the reason your parents are dead, but I didn't sell them out to the Death Eaters - I would have never sold them out to filth and scum!" He walked over to the bars and gripped them as tight as he could. "I am a monster. My seat in hell is just as secured as yours, but I would have rather died than betray my brother."
"If that was the case… you would have never snapped my wand. Would have never locked me up."
"I honoured your father's memory by doing that. Your mother's memory. I'll be dammed before I let you stand there and tarnished everything they stood up for. They were honest people, good people. They'd be ashamed of the man you have become."
"As they would be of you." He stood up, his face twisted into a snarl as he walked to meet him in the middle. "I may very well be a disappointment, but if that's the case, then it's because of you! You and Remus and Peter and everyone else who was supposed to look after me! You left me… alone. So how dare you come in here and lecture me about being an embarrassment to my parents' memories when you were the ones who should have taken care of me!" The boy exhaled a sharp sob. "You people just went off and dropped me off without a care in the world! Without checking in, without acting as the guardians my parents would have wanted you to be! It's not the sins of the father that are the sins of the son, but the sins of the son that are the sins of the father. If I truly am a monster… it is because of all of you."
"Sirius," a voice from behind him barked. "You're not supposed to be here."
"I wonder…" he said to Potter, ignoring Moody. "Before me… before Remus… who did you blame for your sins? It's the coward's way to blame our actions on others. Then again… I don't expect a shred of bravery coming from a Slytherin."
That's it for this chapter, thank you all for reading!
Next chapter will be the finale of the Homecoming arc as we ready ourselves for Year's End, so be excited! :)
By the time I'm posting this, I'm three chapters ahead and I'm in the middle of writing the next arc titled Year's End, and it's one I'm pretty excited about. If you are interested in learning how to get early access to them, join my discord server using the following link: discord . gg / jyPfbGqhJT
As always, thank you for reading, favouriting, and commenting! I appreciate all of you! :)
