Consequences
By Neurotica
Thirteen
Just after midnight, James Apparated to the front door of his large family home. He was looking quite forward to having a butterbeer, changing out of his itchy dress robes, and climbing into his own bed. Earlier that day had been the funeral for Remus' parents. Being the dedicated friend he was, James had spent the last few days at Sirius' flat making sure Remus wasn't falling into a depression. Soon, he and Sirius would be going to stay with Naomi and her parents for the remainder of the summer. Unfortunately, the time had come that James needed to return to his own home. Sirius was there, however, as was Naomi if Remus needed anybody.
The naturally quiet, reserved boy had been even more withdrawn since he'd found his parents dead in their bedroom. Not that James blamed Remus one bit; he'd probably have to be admitted to St. Mungo's if he'd found his parents like that...
Yawning widely, James opened the front door with a tap of his wand. None of the lights in the house were on, but that didn't surprise James. His mother had been quite upset for the past few days; she and Mrs. Lupin had been very good friends.
James walked to the kitchen and pulled out a cold butterbeer from the icebox. He cracked it open and raised it to his lips, but before he could take a sip, a muffled crash sounded above him. James lowered the bottle slowly and looked to the ceiling with raised eyebrows. Panic began to set in when he heard heavy footsteps and muttered curses.
He quickly set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and sprinted through the hallways. He slid on a rug as he turned a corner, but grabbed the banister of the staircase before he fell. He took the stairs, three at a time in silence, something he'd mastered in his years of pranking and needing a quick escape.
He turned another corner when he reached the top of the stairs and stopped dead in his tracks. Voices could be heard from his parents' bedroom, but they weren't the voices James was so familiar with; these voices were menacing and, though James couldn't hear what they were saying, he was sure they were threatening.
Cautiously, he crept along the wall to where the bedroom door was cracked open just a bit. He peaked through and felt all the color drain from his face in an instant. His mother and father were sitting against the wall, tied from their shoulders down, three wands pointed at them. He could see shadows moving around the room—four, at least—as he reached for his wand. He'd only have one chance.
Steeling up all of his courage, and making sure he had a steady grip on his wand, James kicked the door open.
"EXPELLIARMUS!" he shouted.
"PROTEGO! EXPELLIARMUS!" a man in a black cloak shouted at the same time.
James' wand flew from his hand. He was pulled roughly into the room by a rather beefy-looking man and slammed to the floor against the wall. He winced painfully as he tried to push himself from the floor; he'd probably dislocated a shoulder...
James looked over to his parents. His mother was staring at him horror-struck, silent tears running down her face. Evidently, a silencing charm had been placed on her. James felt a sense of pride as he thought that his mother always could scream pretty damn loud—
"Let him go," James' father growled. He was breathing heavily and looked quite pale in his face, but he managed a glare towards his attackers that James felt quite afraid of. "He's got nothing to do with this."
"No, I don't think we're going to let him go just yet," said one of the black-cloaked figures. James only now realized they were all wearing white masks. "You must be James," he said, turning to the youngest Potter. "Your mother and father think quite highly of you, you know. And we are so pleased you could join us. You're right on time."
"What do you want?" James breathed, sounding more courageous than he felt.
"To see you suffer, young Potter." James could almost hear the man smiling.
"Fuck you," James growled.
"Tsk, tsk. Such a mouth on you. Didn't your dear mother ever teach you not to use such words? SCOURGIFY!"
James suddenly found himself choking on pink soap bubbles. Strangely enough, he was thinking that this was how his friends would find him...
The Death Eaters all had a good long laugh at his expense before the charm was lifted. James' head was spinning as he gasped for air.
"Leave him alone," his father said again. This time, James heard the pleading in his father's voice. "Let him go. Do what you will with us, but he's innocent."
"No!" James yelled. He suddenly found a strength he didn't know he possessed. Ignoring his father's repeated cries for him to stop, James charged at the Death Eater closest to him, sending them both to the ground. Before he could move, James felt himself floating in the air, and being slammed against the wall again.
"CRUCIO!" cried the Death Eater James had knocked over.
Horrible pain... There was nothing James could even relate it to. Except, perhaps, the time that bludger hit him full force in the back, but even that would be a relief compared to what he was currently feeling. James cried out loud, arching his back as the pain shot from his brain to his toes and back a dozen times in a matter of seconds. He was going to die, he was sure of it. He'd never get to see his friends again... Never get to tell Lily how he really felt about her and that he was sorry for being a prat...
Then the pain was over. James collapsed to the carpet again, gasping for air, sure his muscles had been torn to pieces. He could hear the Death Eaters shouting threats at him and his parents, he could hear his father asking if he was all right, but he couldn't respond.
"I think it's time we end this," one of the Death Eaters growled, staring maliciously from Potter to Potter to Potter. "The Dark Lord doesn't appreciate your meddling and he wishes it to end. Now." He pointed his wand at James' mother. Before he could say a word, the Death Eater shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The brightest green light James had ever seen in his life was emitted from the man's wand. "Mum..." he whispered weakly as the jet hit his mother in the chest—she slumped over to the floor, her hazel eyes still wide with terror. His father was screaming and crying. James couldn't even feel the tears slide down from his own eyes.
The Death Eater was speaking again. "And now for Mister Potter..."
"No, please," James croaked hoarsely.
The same green light hit his father in a matter of seconds. James stared at his parents' lifeless bodies, his mind blank, his eyes wide with terror. He was alone. His parents were dead. He was an orphan. What ever happened to not killing the purebloods? None of the other pureblood families had been killed in the war—why his?
"What about the boy?" one of the Death Eaters asked. James didn't even register that it sounded like a female voice. Kill me, too, he found himself thinking. I want my mum... Just kill me...
"Leave him," the Death Eater in charge said carelessly. "The Dark Lord said nothing about him... But before we leave... Incendio," he muttered carelessly. With a wave of his wand, the bodies of James' parents had caught fire. The smell was enough to make anyone lose their dinner, but James couldn't even register that...
Three loud cracks sounded in the room. Before the last Death Eater left, he pointed his wand to the ceiling and shouted, "MORSMORDRE!"
An emerald green skull flew threw the ceiling, undoubtedly setting itself just above the house. The last Death Eater was finally gone...
James sat against the wall, his jaw set, and pulled his knees to his chest. He stared straight ahead for what seemed like hours. That was how the Aurors found him later that morning. That was how Sirius and Peter found him...
Sirius sat straight up in his bed, dripping in sweat and gulping for air. His grey eyes wide, he looked around his dark bedroom, finding it as empty as it had been before he'd closed his eyes. He tried to relax—he hadn't had a nightmare like that in years, and this one was probably the worst of the lot. He rubbed at his eyes roughly, trying to get the images of what he'd just seen to go away. Blindly, he reached over to his bedside table for his wand, waved it around his room once, and was relieved when light surrounded him.
This is why I don't sleep anymore, he thought bitterly. I'm afraid of the bloody dark...
Growing frustrated with his inability to get comfortable again, he pushed the blankets away from him and got out of bed, pulling a t-shirt over himself as he went to the kitchen. He glared at the covered portrait of his mother as he passed, her snores filling his ears.
He made it to the kitchen where the Order members who'd been there earlier had left their notes and maps scattered all over the table. He ignored the mess and went to the pantry to retrieve a new bottle of firewhiskey he'd talked Dung into picking up for him, and a goblet. Maybe a couple of shots could make him forget about that dream...
All his friends had been there, the ones who shouldn't have been there—Lily, James, Julia. That part was like the one he'd had after he'd been released from Azkaban. They'd blamed him for their deaths, which was nothing new. What had really frightened Sirius was the second part of the dream—what they'd shown him. It had to have been the future; Harry looked to be about seventeen and he was fighting Voldemort. It was a full moon, and Remus was there. Sirius wasn't able to transform into Padfoot. Moony was being controlled by Wormtail, who'd somehow gained his soul back. Sirius was powerless to help as Moony attacked Harry...
Sirius closed his eyes tightly, preferring the white stars that had erupted to those bloody images again. After a few more shots of Ogden's, he was able to convince himself that, not only would Remus never attack Harry, but Wormtail couldn't get his soul back—there was no known way for a victim of the Dementor's Kiss to recover. It took him a few more shots to realize Remus couldn't attack Harry if he wasn't alive... This realization caused him to take three more shots.
By the time Emmeline wandered into the kitchen less than an hour later, Sirius had drunk half the bottle. "That can't be good for you," she said lightly, leaning against the counter he was sitting on. The moment he set the bottle down, she lifted it to her lips and took a long swig.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Not bad, Vance," he slurred.
She grinned and winked. "So what's with the drinking binge at two a.m.?"
"Bad dreams," he mumbled, staring at the floor.
"You know, it probably wouldn't hurt for you to take a few Occlumency lessons," she said thoughtfully.
Sirius grinned weakly. "Speaking of Occlumency," he muttered. "How's my godson?"
"About as good as you, sans for the firewhiskey," she said matter-of-factly. Sirius reached out clumsily for the bottle, but Emmeline hid it behind her back. "I think you've had more enough of this, Sirius," she said sternly.
Sirius' eyes widened slightly. "My god, you're perfect for Moony," he muttered.
Her lips twitched but she had no other reaction to the comment. "Feel like talking?"
Sirius sighed heavily. "I don't know what there is to talk about..." Emmeline raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked.
"Well," she began slowly, "you've been miserable for months."
"I have not."
"Yes, you have. You're worrying about everything, which is understandable, but you're letting it dictate your life. There's nothing you can do to change any of this, Sirius."
"Have you ever lost someone close to you, Emmeline?" he asked quietly.
"You know I have, Sirius," she said. "Remember Marlene... and Hestia?"
Sirius winced. "Right, sorry," he mumbled.
Emmeline rolled her eyes. "Look, you can't just let what's happened shut you down. If that happens, they win."
"I've never had to deal with any of this alone. In the first war, I had James. Until August, I had Remus. Now what do I have?"
"You have Harry," she said simply. "And I'd like to think you and I aren't exactly enemies. There's Tonks and Kingsley." Sirius opened his mouth to say something, but Emmeline cut him off. "Harry doesn't hate you, so don't even start with that. He feels horrible for what he said to you, he told me. That boy thinks the world of you. He knows you've been avoiding him. Don't look at me like that, either; I've noticed too. And if you want my honest opinion—which you're going to get whether you like it or not—you're both acting quite juvenile. You know how war is, Sirius, and you know it only takes a few seconds for things to change. Don't let something stupid like teenage angst ruin the relationship you have with Harry."
Neither said anything more for a few moments until Sirius chuckled and shook his head.
"What is so funny?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
Sirius jumped off the counter and kissed her cheek. "You really are perfect for Moony." He grinned before going up the stairs to bed.
Inside Auror Headquarters, it was a normal Saturday for those working overtime. Most of the Aurors, including Sirius Black, hadn't had a day off in months. They weren't the only department within the Ministry with this problem, though; every department from Floo Regulation to Magical Games and Sports had become involved in the efforts against Lord Voldemort. None of them complained about their long hours, and if they did it fell upon deaf ears—there were bigger things to worry about than a few people working until midnight.
Sirius had just finished briefing his Aurors on what was happening and assigning more people to their ever-growing workload. For the hour and a half that he spoke, he didn't smile once, didn't crack one joke—a first in his career as Head Auror. He'd always tried to make his Aurors feel that things weren't as bad as they seemed, but at the moment, he didn't feel he could fake giving them false hope.
The Aurors were leaving the meeting to go back to work on their respective tasks when the owl flew through the door. It was an express owl from Hogwarts, and the letter it carried was as vague as every other letter from Albus Dumbledore that Sirius had read.
Please come to Hogwarts immediately.
"Everything all right?" Kingsley asked, noticing how Sirius paled at the letter.
"What do you think?" Sirius muttered. Without another word, he left Auror Headquarters, pushing past Tonks when she tried to stop him. He walked dazedly to the Atrium where he would Floo to Hogwarts.
What could have possibly happened now? he wondered. Considering the turns his life had taken over the last months, Harry was probably near death... again. Don't think like that, he chided himself. Harry's safe at Hogwarts.
He was supposed to be safe nine years ago too, said the cynical part of his mind.
Pushing every thought from his mind, Sirius made his way through the departing line to the fireplaces, took a pinch of Floo powder from the gold basin between the fireplaces, stepped in, and said clearly, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office."
He stepped out of the fireplace into the grand study belonging to Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster stood in greeting, and Sirius immediately realized they were not alone. He resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at Madame Maxime, and instead nodded hello to the both of them.
"What happened, Albus?" Sirius asked flatly.
To his great shock, Dumbledore smiled and sat behind his desk, gesturing for Sirius to sit beside Maxime. "Madame Maxime arrived not an hour ago with some very interesting news that she wished to share with you, Sirius," he said.
Sirius looked up at the Beauxbatons headmistress in question. "And what would that news be?" he asked, hoping he sounded more polite than he thought he did.
"I beelieve, Monsieur Black," Maxime said in her deep French accent. "Zat I 'ave found somezing zat beelongs to you."
Now Sirius did raise an eyebrow. "And what would that be?" he asked quietly, his heart racing for some odd reason.
"Perhaps we should go to ze 'ospital wing, Dumblydore?" the witch asked with a smile.
"That is a fine idea, my dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore responded, standing. "Will you accompany us, Sirius?"
Sirius stood without hesitation, quite anxious about whatever it was he was about to see. He followed the Headmaster and Headmistress out of the office and through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts. Must be a Hogsmeade weekend, he thought vaguely.
"Why do we have to go to the hospital wing?" he asked, trying to keep up with Maxime's long strides. Dumbledore didn't seem to have any problem. The headmaster didn't reply; he smiled mysteriously, not looking at Sirius and continued down his path.
A strange, unidentifiable knot began to form in the Auror's stomach as they walked. When the large oak doors of the hospital wing came into view, the knot seemed to spread to every other part of his body.
Dumbledore pushed open the doors, holding them open for his two companions, and closed them silently behind him. Sirius looked around the hospital wing, not seeing anything that could possibly interest him.
"Why are we here?" he asked quietly, looking back at Dumbledore.
Again, Dumbledore smiled mysteriously—that was really starting to annoy Sirius—his eyes twinkling wildly. Sirius hadn't seen him so happy (was he happy?) in years. "Turn around, my boy," he said softly.
Sighing, Sirius did as instructed. On his first glance of the wing, he hadn't noticed that a large section at the far end had been blocked off by a curtain. Without realizing when or how, Sirius' feet began to carry him towards the curtain—there was something behind it he needed to see very badly.
His heart was beating somewhere in his throat as he reached out a shaking hand to pull the curtain aside. Madam Pomfrey was bent over a hospital bed, working madly with something—or someone. She shifted aside a bit, reaching for a potions bottle, and Sirius got a glimpse of what was in the bed.
He didn't even feel the impact of the floor when he hit it.
After a full day in Hogsmeade Village and a large dinner, Harry was feeling somewhat better than he had in weeks. That wasn't saying much, though, since he was also still feeling quite miserable. For a few days, he'd wondered if perhaps the dementors on Halloween had left some sort of nasty side effects, but Hermione had told him he was being stupid and threw a chocolate frog at him. Her mood towards him since Halloween had been sour; she was quite upset with him for sneaking off to Hogsmeade without telling anybody. "You're lucky the Order showed up when they did," she said, "or you'd be worse than dead."
His professors hadn't been too thrilled with his behavior, either. He was sure that everywhere he went now, either Mad-Eye, McGonagall, or Dumbledore would be following him. And if they weren't following him, it was just mere coincidence that they turned up around almost any corner...
Sirius had still been quite unreachable. Reaching desperate measures, Harry had gone to Professor McGonagall to inquire about his godfather. McGonagall had told him that Sirius was quite all right and was perfectly capable of answering Harry's letters. No, she didn't know why Sirius seemed to be avoiding him, but she had papers to grade, and would he please get going to his next class.
All in all, McGonagall had been absolutely no help.
Lying in his bed, staring at the canopy above him, Harry thought back to dinner that night. McGonagall hadn't been there. Nor had Mad-Eye or Dumbledore. Were they having another meeting at Number Twelve?
The students had eaten quickly that night. Lockhart had stood up in the middle of the hall and started to demonstrate how to properly dispose of a troll that had been bitten by a vampire.
"And he's supposed to be teaching us Potions," Seamus had said in disgust. Seamus lost his appetite a short time later and returned to the Gryffindor common room.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said from the bed beside him. "Can I have a look at the Marauder's Map?"
"Sure," Harry muttered, rolling over to his side to open his end table. He retrieved the aged piece of parchment and an old photo album Remus had given him a few years ago. He handed Ron the map and lit a candle beside his bed.
Harry vaguely heard Ron mutter, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," as he opened the dark red leather book.
Remus had filled the photo album with pictures of Harry's parents, their friends, and baby pictures of Harry. Most of them were quite humorous—someone had caught Sirius in the act of rigging an invisible water bucket above a sofa. The next picture showed Lily and Julia pushing Sirius onto said sofa so that he was the one drenched in water.
Others showed the Marauders in their youth in various places—by the Hogwarts lake, in Hogsmeade, at James' home during the summer. In the very back of the photo album were all the pictures of Sirius, Remus, and Harry in various poses and moments. One in particular showed Sirius and Harry eight years ago, sleeping on the sofa at the cottage. Another showed Remus and Harry at ten years old reading a book together. Harry's favorite picture of the lot was the one taken on the day he'd received his Hogwarts letter. He and his guardians were grinning broadly at the camera while Harry held up his letter.
"Er... Harry..." Ron said weakly from his bed.
Harry quickly wiped his eyes and slammed the album shut. "Yeah?" he asked rather hoarsely.
"You might want to see this..."
Harry moved to the edge of the bed closest to Ron. His friend was looking rather pale as he stared from the map to Harry. "What's up?" Harry asked.
"Is this thing ever wrong?" Ron asked slowly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "No..."
"Okay, you need to have a look, then..."
Slowly, Harry took the map from Ron's shaking hands and examined it. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary—Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, and McGonagall were in the Headmaster's study; Lockhart was in his private quarters, probably curling his wig. "What am I supposed to be seeing?" Harry asked skeptically.
"Look at the hospital wing," Ron said anxiously.
Harry scanned the corridors and the map magically shifted aside to show the hospital wing. There were two names sitting close together. His eyes widened at the first name, but the second one caused him to sprint out of the dormitory before the map had even fallen to the floor.
He tore through the common room, ignoring indignant yells of the second years he shoved aside, and practically dove through the portrait hole. He also ignored the Fat Lady's muffled cries as her portrait hit the opposite wall, and continued to run faster than he'd ever run in his life. He took the stairs three at a time, not even stopping when he twisted his ankle on the last step.
He turned a corner and ran directly into Gilderoy Lockhart with curlers in his hair. "My dear boy!" Lockhart yelled. "What are you doing?"
Harry ignored him. He had to get to the hospital wing... One more flight of steps... two more corridors... one right turn...
He burst through the large oak doors, tripping over his bare feet. He stood again, running to the end of the wing, slipping on the slick floor. He slid to a stop next to his godfather, and gripped the wizard's Ministry robes for support.
"Is it him?" Harry asked quietly, staring wide-eyed at the bed.
"Yeah," Sirius said hoarsely. Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "Yeah, it's him, kid."
Harry laughed slightly, leaning on Sirius for support. His godfather wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close for a hug.
"How?" Harry managed to ask weakly, his voice muffled in Sirius' shoulder.
"Don't know, don't care..." Sirius laughed, pulling away from the hug. "Sit... here, take my chair... What'd you do to your ankle?"
"Dunno," Harry muttered, staring at Remus' unconscious form. "He looks horrible..."
That was an understatement. Remus' face was swollen, with cuts and bruises covering nearly every inch. He looked to have grown a few new patches of grey hair in the last few months. He didn't look as though he'd eaten at all in that time. His right leg was in a cast and looked to have been broken in several places.
"Should have seen him when I got here," Sirius whispered, sitting beside Harry. "Madam Pomfrey's cleared up most of the mess. He's got some internal bleeding as well, but Poppy says she can take care of that. He's also got a rather bad concussion, which is why he's unconscious. She's been pumping him full of different potions every thirty minutes..."
"He's gonna be okay, though, right?" Harry asked, his eyes wide in worry.
"Yeah, yeah, he's going to be fine. He'll probably have a long recovery period where he won't be able to do or handle much, but..." Sirius grinned suddenly. "It's really him, Harry. Dumbledore and Mad-Eye did every identity test known to wizardkind. There's no mistaking it this time."
Neither of them left the hospital wing that night. Neither of them could bring themselves to leave now that Remus was in front of them. There really weren't any words that could possibly explain how either of them felt at the moment.
Only when Madam Pomfrey threatened to levitate them into beds at three in the morning did they agree to lie down. But neither of them closed their eyes until just before sunrise.