Disclaimer: See first chapter

A/N: I know I'm very bad and haven't updated but I'm making it up. Limedill is not a real town and belongs to me. Thanks to all of you who have been continually reviewing this even though there have been many periods when I simply wanted to give up. You guys rock!

Oh and if any of you speak French there is a translated version The Street Life up on the site, courteous of Terry Mandero. Just check out her Profile and you'll find it easily. How cool is that? Now the French can read my story. YAH!

Chapter 4 -

Harry Potter's tragic death was major news for the wizarding world. In the muggle world it was only news for a few days before most forgot about him. Bolt thought it was funny since this was the second time he'd died in their eyes.

Before Bolt had run off he had taken the key to his vault and emptied it. He'd spent some of the money on the bus to Dufftown but there was more than enough to cover living expenses for the three of them.

Blondie, Lucky and Bolt were sitting on the bus back to London. They were flicking through a heap of tourist pamphlets to find a place where they could live without fear of running into any wizards.

"This place sounds great," Blondie exclaimed passed the pamphlet to Lucky. He looked over it and nodded in agreement.

"Check it out Bolt," Lucky passed the pamphlet to him.

Bolt was the slowest to read it since he'd only learnt to read over the past year. It was about a small town near York called Limedill.

"Yeah it sounds great." Bolt replied.

"I want to go back to school again," Blondie said.

"Me too." Bolt nodded.

"Not me," Said Lucky. "I'll grab a job and do what I do best."

"You can't break into people's houses in a town that small," Blondie said.

He laughed and shook his head. "Before I was hanging on the street my dad would make me work in my uncle's hardware store. I was really good at doing the till and packing shelves."

"Who would have thought us three street kids would actually amount to anything," Bolt laughed.

"Yeah. All we need is a bit of money to start off with and then we can do anything!" Lucky cried.

"To bad the others won't have our chance," Blondie sighed.

"Come on Blondie, I know for a fact that Jock and Marty have got a stash that they're going to use to get married and get a house." Lucky explained. Jock was once Lucky's partner in crime but they hadn't seen him for a while.

"Jock and Marty are getting married?" Blondie asked.

"Yeah and he told me he's loved her since the beginning. Sounds kind of familiar doesn't it?" Lucky winked.

"Don't make me throw up," Bolt groaned.

"That's so sweet," Blondie exclaimed.

Bolt tuned out of the conversation and leaned his head against the window. He thought of Sirius who he knew would be crushed by his death but he had to do it. They would never understand why he thought of Blondie and Zazza as his family. He'd never been close with anyone else in all of his years on the street and had never known a family. They were his family and now Lucky was close to him.

Sirius and Remus were wonderful guardians. They genuinely cared for him but Bolt was a street kid first and a wizard second. His friends were everything to him and he needed to rescue them. As he felt himself drifting off to sleep he had himself a promise – he'd find Zazza or die trying.

He was lying on his back in what looked like a crib. He was looking up at a man who looked so much like him and a red haired woman. They were smiling and saying something to him but he couldn't make out the words. Then Sirius and Remus and another man were there and they were waving at him.

They disappeared and he was still on his back but only the red haired woman was there. She wasn't looking at him but talking to someone he couldn't see. Then there was a large flash of green light.

Bolt jerked awake and thumped his head hard on the window. "Fuck," He groaned and rubbed his head.

"You alright Bolt, you were kinda fidgeting in your sleep," Lucky asked him.

"Just a crazy dream," Bolt answered.

"We're coming into the bus station now," Said Blondie. "We were just about to wake you up."

"Sweet." Bold said. "Are we going straight to the place?"

"Yep," Said Lucky.

Bolt felt like home wandering the streets of London. The place had always been the hangout for anyone who needed a place to stay. Every so often the cops would do a raid but mostly they were left to their own devices.

Climbing through the wire fence and through the kitchen window, Bolt, Lucky and Blondie were greeted by a few gasps as many thought Bolt to be dead.

"I faked the whole thing to get the coppers off my back," Bolt explained.

They settled in the dinning room that was already filled with makeshift beds. Jock was there and waved them down.

"Lucky mate! Boy, I didn't think I'd be seeing you around these parts anymore. How you doing?" Jock said.

"We're only here to see Copy and get some ID so we can go rent a house. We're planning to go to some little town near York." Lucky explained.

Jock nodded. "Good work mate. I've got a place in the works myself; it's a little apartment a few blocks from here."

"You married Marty yet?" Lucky asked.

Jock smiled wickedly. "Had to put them plans on hold for a while."

"Why?" Blondie asked.

"Got to use the money for the baby," He said.

It took a moment to register those words.

"You knocked her up!" Lucky cried.

"I'm going to be a father in three months," Jock said proudly.

"You're keeping it then?" Blondie asked.

"Of course. You really think after all Marty's gone through that she's going to abandon her own?"

Many of the kids that showed up at the place were from the orphanage up the block. Many of them were children of other street kids who couldn't afford to feed themselves, let alone a baby. Marty was one of those kids.

"We're moving in next week, that's why we're here at the moment." Jock explained.

"I hope everything turns out for you," Blondie said.

Jock nodded. "I can't believe it either. I've got a job at a nightclub as a bouncer, it's rough work but nothing I'm not used to."

"Well if isn't the most famous street kid the place turned out," A sly voice said.

They turned and saw Marty standing behind them with her hands on her hips. Marty was normally a sickly thin girl with dark cropped hair and overly large black eyes but she'd gained some weight and looked much healthier.

"Word on the street was you were dead Bolt," She said.

"I'm not," He remarked.

"Obviously," She said and placed a hand on her protruding stomach. "I been busy as you can see, we had to use our weddin' money for baby things and a bigger apartment."

"You look great," Bolt said. "It suits you."

She laughed and nodded. "Never felt so good in my life. Heard you two were together now," She looked at Lucky and Blondie.

"Yeah, she's my girl," Lucky said and put his arm around Blondie's shoulders. She rolled her eyes and shrugged his arm off.

"If he's anything like Jock then you might be starting a family soon too," Marty said.

"You even think about Lucky and I'll bite it off," Blondie joked.

"Yes Sir!" Lucky cried.

After more catching up with Jock and Marty and hearing how they too were turning their life around, Bolt, Lucky and Blondie went to sleep.

A man with sandy coloured hair was kneeling before a chair.

"My lord, the reports say that Potter is dead," The sandy haired man said. "But it has come to my attention that he and his friends are staying in Dufftown in Figg's old home."

"Good, I want you to follow them and when the time is right, approach Potter. He will not refuse the offer I have for him." A voice from the chair said.

"Yes master but how will I know the time is right?" He asked.

"You will know, make sure none of his muggle friends see you. You must make sure he is alone."

"I will master,"

"Good, now follow Potter and his friends and do not let yourself be seen."

Bolt opened his eye groggily and sat up. Someone was following him and his friends. He could wake them up now but if he was a wizard then he might be watching him right now.

He took a deep breath and looked around. There was a little moonlight coming through the window but other than that there was no light. Then he saw a shadow at the window and he knew that he had to face this person head on. Everyone was asleep and he was alone, just as the person in the chair requested. He stood up and stepped over the sleeping forms of the street kids. He climbed back through the kitchen window and walked around the side of the place.

"Hello Harry Potter," A voice said from behind him.

He spun around and saw that it was the sandy haired man from his dreams. His face was bathed in moonlight, giving it a creepy look.

"Who are you?" Bolt demanded.

"It doesn't matter but I have a proposition for you. Do you want to see your friend again?" He said.

"Keep talking," Bolt said.

"In exchange for a small service on your part we will return your friend who is unharmed." He said.

"What do I have to do?" Bolt asked.

"Come with me and find out."

Everything was telling Bolt not to go but he had to save Zazza. The man offered Bolt his hand and Bolt took it. He felt a tug behind his navel and he knew that the man was using a portkey.

They landed and Bolt saw they were in a graveyard. There was a caldron on a fire and beside it sat a small bundle and Zazza who was tied up.

"Zazza!" Bolt cried and ran forward. He untied him and threw his arms around him. While he was doing this he didn't notice the man going around the other side of the caldron.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you shall renew your son!" He raised his wand and the grave near Bolt cracked and a trickle of dust flew through the air and into the caldron.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master!" He raised a dagger above his wrist and brought it down. Bolt clung to Zazza and squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the man cry out in pain.

"You'll be fine Bolt," Zazza whispered. "It'll only hurt a bit."

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe," The man was close to him. Bolt opened his eyes and saw that he was right in front of him holding the bloodied dagger up towards him. He realized this was his part, his sacrifice and didn't move or flinch as he drove the dagger into the crook of Bolt's arm. Blood trickled down his arm and the man collected some in a small vile. He tossed it into the caldron and lifted up the bundle beside Zazza.

He threw it in the caldron and a large wisp of white smoke filled Bolt's vision. Then a large figure rose from the caldron and a cold voice commanded.

"Robe me,"

The man waved his wand and the figure was given large black robes. The smoke cleared and Bolt saw the figure was a tall man with large pale fingers, red eyes and slits for nostrils.

"Holy shit," Bolt gasped.

The red eyed thing turned and barred his teeth at him. "Hello Harry Potter, I must thank you for your help."

"No problem," Bolt replied.

"Where are my manners," He said. "I haven't introduced myself, I am Lord Voldemort."

Bolt blanked out for a second. Voldemort was the one who had killed his parents and was the most evil wizard of all time.

"Like you, I was thought to be dead but now we both stand before each other, two supposedly dead men, very much alive." He said.

"I did what you wanted!" Bolt cried. "Just let me take Zazza and you'll never hear from me again."

"There is one more thing I want from you Harry Potter. You may take your friend and leave and start again someone far away from the wizarding world but when I summon you, you will do my bidding." He said.

Bolt's eyes widened. He was being asked to serve the devil himself. To sell his soul for his friend and his own life in exchange. It was his own fault that Zazza was here, he'd done nothing and he did not deserve to die.

"Will you pledge yourself to me, Harry Potter and do my bidding when I command it?" He asked.

Bolt knew that he would not be asked again. It was either this or they both died. "Yes," His voice cracked. "Yes I will."

He couldn't believe it was that easy. In one moment he'd completely sold himself out. But he had to do it for Zazza. The only thing he'd ever done was be his friend and he wasn't going to let him die for that.

"Hold out you left arm," He commanded.

Bolt held it out and thinking that they were going to chop it off, squeezed his eyes shut. He felt his inner forearm burn and he screamed in agony.

When it was over, he looked down at it and saw what looked like a tattoo of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth.

"That it the dark mark, my mark," Voldemort told him. "When it burns black you touch it and you will apparate to wherever I summon you."

"Got it," Bolt gasped.

"Now take them back Barty," He commanded and the sandy haired man came forward and offered the portkey.

Bolt held on to Zazza with one hand and with the other clasped the portkey. He felt the tug behind his navel again and fell to the ground outside the place.

He'd done it now, like it or not he was the Devil's Advocate.