Chapter two: Evil Unmasked?

So, chapter one has come and gone, Harry's having him some fun, is it Siri, is it not? Are grey eyes out or are they hot? This and more will be divulged in this chapter...or not. ;)

"S-Sirius?" Harry whispered

Instead of disarming the man in front of him, he lit the room once more with his wand and illuminated the darkened hallway to see the man before him.

"You are not Sirius..." he said to the man. He did not know who it was that stood there, but whoever it was bore a striking resemblance to his godfather, yet not.

This man had to be no older than twenty two, Harry assumed, and he knew that Sirius was much older than that. His hair was black, but not matted, with more volume as it was when he was younger. His face showed no look of one who had endured thirteen years inside the dread wizard prison Azkaban, but of a man in his prime, with no thoughts of the dark future that may lie ahead of him. He looked like Sirius when he was fresh out of Hogwarts, not of the 'mass murderer' Sirius Black. Besides, Sirius was dead... he died two years ago. This man was not Sirius.

"I am, Harry. I would not lie to you." the man said to him, holding his own wand to the side and dropping it at his feet. "I mean you no harm, let me explain."

"LIAR!" Harry yelled, hoping upon hope that this was Sirius, but knowing it not to be so. He still held his wand up, not ready to stupefy him just yet. He had to be sure before he made any rash decisions...right?

He stayed silent, waiting for Harry to make his move.

"How do I know if you are lying to me or not? How do I know that you aren't some Death Eater trying to look good for Voldemort?"

"Would a Death Eater masquerade as a younger version of me if he didn't want to get killed in the process?"

He had a point there.

"Don't you have some form of proof? If you are who you say you are, you'd have something." Harry said, not liking this game of cat and mouse.

The man seemed finally to come to his own decision. Whether it was to offer the only piece of crucial evidence of his identity or to be sure Harry was indeed Harry, he finally said something he could use. "Harry, you know what McGonagall told you in her letter. You know how to find out if I am lying." he said, not taking his eyes off of Harry's.

"How did you...?" Harry said, and thought. Professor McGonagall had written him a letter two months previously about what to do if someone comes into the Dursley's home to take him away and he was not sure of his identity. She insisted it was a very simple spell that would not need to be practiced before it was used, so he would have no trouble preforming it at any moment. She asked him to memorise it immediately, and he had.

"Come now, boy. I have no wand. Go ahead!" he said to him.

Without thinking about it, without pausing to reconsider, without losing his nerve, Harry did so.

"Verita Mortis!" he cried

The not-quite-Sirius was lifted into the air by an unknown means, as though he was a marionette puppet and was pulled up by strings. He seemed unconscious. His hair was fallen loosely to his sides, his face still and unmoving. One grey eye was open, but not focused, the lid partially closed. He looked almost as though he were asleep.

He certainly looked like Sirius, Harry thought. He was wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket and black jeans, similar to something Harry had seen him wear in the pictures he had of his mum and dad, Lily and James Potter. He had seen Sirius in it in quite a few of the pictures he had, which could give reason that this man may not be Sirius. It was simple enough to find pictures of Harry's godfather, find someone willing to somehow impersonate him and wear his clothes of his youth. But why when he was so young? Certainly whoever was behind this knew that Sirius had died, and that he looked far different from the image he was presented with now. With all of the wanted signs throughout the muggle and wizarding community, one would be more precise with such areas of deception. Unless he was actually Sirius by some strange way?

No, stop thinking that. I'm only going to let myself down, he thought. His godfather was dead. Dumbledore was dead. He just had to accept the fact and move on.

Walking up slowly to the man, making sure not to lower his wand more than necessary, he did what McGonagall had said.

"Who are you?" he asked the man

Author Notes: The dread wizard prison Azkaban was of course stolen from the Princess Bride, where it was known as the Dread Pirate Roberts. Verita Mortis was half-stolen from Cassandra Claire's fic Draco Veritas and her two other fics, which I highly reccomend if you haven't read them already. Notedly, Cassandra Claire is also writing her own trilogy of books, the first to be published mid 2007 for more details, please visit her MSN group. :) Cassandra Claire can be found at Okay, okay, I'm totally advertising her here, but she's my favourite fanfic author, and without her lovely literary works, this would not be here. I got a lot of inspiration from that chick, whether she knows it or not.