The first snow of the winter came down overnight, leaving a thick white blanket across the grounds. Ice crept over the castle windows and students began lingering longer in classrooms, in between racing their dæmons through the bitterly cold and drafty corridors. Tom had copied Hermione, who had taken to carrying a small portable fire around in a jar. He was currently clutching it, watching from the empty quidditch stands as Harry zoomed overhead on his broomstick.
The rest of the Gryffindor team were flying at the other end of pitch. Olivier Wood was positioned in front of the goal posts while his jackdaw circled above.
"Looks like Wood took Gryffindor's loss pretty hard," Tom said, yawning as Harry came to hover just above him.
Harry watched the chasers dart back and forth, throwing the quaffle between them. High above, Fred swiped his beaters bat, sending a bludger soaring into the mix, while George swooped below the dæmon line to keep Celendia and Demetria tethered.
Harry twisted his broom around, his attention slipping back to the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. The dementors lingered just beyond the boundaries, possibly casting a watchful gaze towards the small group of Gryffindor's and their dæmons.
"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Tom said quietly. "Everyone just needs time to realise it."
"They don't need to realise anything," Harry said. "Wood should've kicked me off the team already."
Tom didn't say anything as he clutched the jar for warmth. According to Professor Lupin, Dumbledore had been unsuccessful in presurising the Wizengamot to remove the dementors from the castle's perimeter.
Harry bought the broomstick lower, withered fingers outstretched as Tom shivered again.
"Come on, they won't realise I'm gone," Harry said.
Tom sighed, but he didn't protest as he clambered onto the broom.
They walked back up to the castle, bracing the freezing winds and arriving just as students were making their way into the Great Hall. Dæmons darted past as Tom lead Harry up to where Ron was already sitting at the Gryffindor table. Ron waved as they approached, mouth full as he wolfed down his breakfast nearly as fast as Sephronia.
"In a hurry?" Tom asked as he reached for the coffee.
"Mmm," Ron said, still chewing. "I want to run up to Lupin's office to give Scabbers some more rat tonic before class."
"I thought Scabbers was feeling better?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, he is," Ron said. "I just don't want to take any chances before the holidays. He needs to be well enough to travel."
Despite the fact there would be fewer dæmons, Harry was actually looking forward to when the castle would be quieter in a few weeks time. Tom had been on edge ever since the Quidditch incident and it would be nice to just have time together without the constant threat that Harry would attack someone.
"Right," Ron said, taking one last bite of toast, and chucking some to Sephronia who barked happily. "I'll catch you later."
He disappeared from the hall just as the morning post arrived. Hedwig landed beside Tom, wings flapping and spraying cold water droplets everywhere. Tom pulled out his wand and tapped it at her feet, drying her sodden feathers. She hooted once in appreciation before pecking at Harry's usual pile of uneaten bacon.
Within the space of a few seconds, another owl landed on the table, spraying Harry and Tom with a fresh round of wet feathers. The owl promptly stuck out its leg to reveal a thin soggy piece of parchment.
Harry peered over Tom's shoulder as Tom untied the knot. The writing was rushed and the ink had bled slightly onto the parchment making the words barely legible.
Harry. I know our last meeting was brief and there was too much left unsaid. I can only hope that you'll give me an opportunity to explain everything to you. I know you have little reason to trust me, but I truly have only your best interests at heart, I hope I can prove that to you. I promised you I could find your dæmon – and I did. It's critical that you are both reunited as soon as possible. Meet me tonight in the Shrieking Shack, the hut just outside of Hogsmeade. Take the passageway under the whomping willow, there's a knot on the tree which will let you through. We can talk properly then. Your Godfather, Sirius.
"Tom-" Harry breathed, taking in slightly more than air from his surroundings as he read feverishly. The nearby dæmons cowered away, ducking under the house tables.
Without saying a word, Tom pocketed the note and nodded sharply behind Harry.
Harry spun about, only to see Hermione slipping into the seat across from them.
"Are you finished already?" she said, glancing around for the absent Gryffindor quidditch team. "Normally Wood works you all through breakfast."
"It was a bit too cold out," Tom said, smiling as he wrapped his fingers back around his coffee.
"I'm surprised you went out at all," Hermione said. "Although, I guess Harry doesn't notice the cold."
Harry couldn't speak, his stomach churning. How could Tom could look so relaxed.
"Oh, Tom, before I forget, I got that book you wanted-"
Hermione set her rather heavy bag onto the bench and immediately started pulling out several books. She finally selected one that had a rather ominous title.
Dark Beings and how to Destroy them
"I picked it up from the restricted section last night," Hermione said, grabbing some toast and passing it up to Ramiron who was buried in the wool lining of her hood. "I don't think it'll help much though, I skimmed a couple of chapters and it doesn't mention dementors in any useful detail."
"Thanks Hermione," Tom reached across and slipping it quickly into Harry's bag.
They walked to Charms in silence. It was only when they were alone on the third floor did Harry drag Tom to a stop in front of an empty painting. He had to say something, but Tom grasp Harry's hand tightly and shook his head.
"We'll speak later," Tom said softly. "There's nothing we can do at the moment."
"I know, but-"
Down the corridor a group of Ravenclaw's were approaching. Harry glared at them, making sure to deliberately focus on their small group of dæmons as he took a long deliberate breath. A terrible cold filled the corridor.
Tom wrapped his fingers around his arm, pulling Harry back harshly.
"Stop it," Tom hissed.
Instead, Harry jerked his shoulder away. The effect was enough though, the Ravenclaw's spun about and were quickly retreating in the opposite direction. Tom ran his hand through his hair, and fixed Harry with a exasperated look.
"Harry you need to calm down. How am I supposed to believe you'll be composed enough around Lyra if you can't even wait one more day?"
Harry flushed, retort dying on his lips. He ached to have Lyra back again, he didn't want to have to wait any longer. If Tom wouldn't let him see her-
"Look," Tom said bluntly, sensing Harry's rising panic. "I know you're trying. I just need to think about some things first, okay?"
"Fine," Harry said, taking a shaky breath as he tried to clear his mind. It didn't really work, so he tried to focus on something else instead.
"What's the book for?"
Tom's expression hardened.
"It doesn't matter," he muttered.
"If it's got something to do with me-" Harry started.
"It doesn't."
The finality and coldness in Tom's voice only made it horrifying apparent. A cold dread washed through Harry as he realised.
"Riddle," he whispered.
Without any confirmation, Tom turned and started walking away. Harry rushed to catch up with him, grabbing Tom's arm and spinning him round to face him.
"Tom, you can't-"
Tom glared at him.
"Don't tell me what I can't do."
"You said it didn't have anything to do with me-" Harry started. "You can't leave me out of this. If Voldemort finds out you're looking for a way to kill Riddle-"
"I already know how to kill Riddle," Tom said coolly. "And I'm hardly concerned with what Voldemort will think."
"If you know how then why the book-" Harry started.
"I want it to hurt," Tom hissed. For the first time, pure uncensored anger splintered across their bond. Harry staggered from the sheer weight of it, crushing down from such uncontrollable rage. Right then, there was no mistaking that Tom was a piece of Voldemort.
"I want Riddle to suffer, just as much as he's made you suffer."
"Riddle's spent fifty years without Nagini, isn't that enough?" Harry started.
The cold smile that crossed Tom's face was terrifying. Harry shook his head, his head a whirl of conflicting emotions.
"Tom-"
"Last time I was unprepared and it cost us deeply. Riddle got to you when he should never have. I won't make the same mistake again," Tom said fiercely, his hand tightening around Harry's wrist, holding him still. "I won't ever let him touch you again, Harry. I swear it."
A lump formed in Harry's throat as he stared at Tom. There was nothing Harry could say to this, despite his whirlwind of emotions.
Did he want Riddle dead? That in itself was complicated enough. They had shared something despite everything that had happened.
Tom seemed to know what he was thinking.
"Any sympathy you have is misplaced, Harry," he said. "Riddle deserves no mercy."
Harry didn't react as Tom slipped his hand back into his, giving it a tight squeeze.
"Come on, we'll be late for class."
Harry and Tom sat right at the back of the charms classroom where no one would pay them any attention. They were a couple of lessons into learning the cheering charm so soon fits of giggles and uncontrollable hiccups were enough to keep every dæmon distracted.
Tom double checked that Professor Flitwick's dormouse wasn't scurrying about nearby before opening the textbook to a page on freezing charms.
Harry frowned disappointed.
"I can already make things go cold."
Tom smiled slightly and pressed Harry's wand into his hand.
"That's the reason I picked it, no one would suspect otherwise."
Harry paused slightly, unsure if Tom would change his mind. When Tom only nodded, Harry braced himself, flicked his wand and said the incantation.
Nothing happened.
At least nothing exploded.
"Your grip is too tight," Tom said as he repositioned Harry's arm higher. "Try and relax."
Harry shot him a look at this. How could he calm down knowing that Lyra was close.
"Harry, concentrate-"
It took another forty minutes before Harry had any sort of meaningful result. The edge of the table was now cold and damp, with a thin layer of frost sort of covering the surface. It certainly wasn't perfect but since Harry hadn't done any proper magic since second year it was a start.
"Good," Tom said, and a rush of genuine relief flooded across their bond. He pulled out a piece of parchment, quill and ink bottle, and began scribbling frantically.
Harry peered over, but Tom's usual neat writing was a messy scrawl of ink splattered diagrams and crossed out notes.
Lowering his wand, Harry frowned as he read a note that had been squeezed into the top right corner of the parchment.
"You think my magic is like Professor Lupin's? "
Tom shook his head, he dipped his quill into the ink pot and continued making notes.
"Lupin can't control his magic before a full moon. So far your only problem seems to be dependent on which wand core you use, which makes perfect sense. For me, unicorn hair is difficult, albeit not impossible to use dark magic with, but for you it's an entirely different thing."
"So we haven't really learnt anything new," Harry said bitterly.
"Not in practice," Tom said. "However, I need to understand everything about it. There's not exactly any half dementors I can read about."
Harry twirled his wand gently between his fingers. The thin wood felt comfortable and warm against his decayed palms.
"What do you think so far then?" Harry asked quietly.
"Theoretically," Tom said as he crossed something out lower down on the page. "I don't think you'll have any significant problems. Just don't try the patronus charm. You'd probably hurt yourself just attempting to cast it."
"I'd need Lyra for that anyway," Harry muttered. He tilted his head, reading Tom's next point he'd circled.
"Investigate affinity for other types of magic?" Harry read with a frown.
Tom's expression stiffened slightly before he put the parchment down with a sigh.
"You won't have come across many darker curses. Most of them are illegal, others just aren't well known," Tom's gaze slipped back to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. "You're a dark creature, Harry, so in theory, it makes sense if you have more of an affinity to using dark magic."
Harry curled his fingers around his wand.
"So magic that isn't dark?"
"Is much less well defined because the Ministry don't have to regulate it. I don't think you would notice day to day, its only if you tried to cast a dark curse would you realise how natural it feels I guess."
Harry resisted the urge to ask more. Instead he focused on the other question that needed answering.
"So what changed your mind about letting me use magic?"
Tom looked up at this, his gaze unwavering from Harry's.
"Lyra."
Harry shifted at this, the darkness around his absent heart swirled.
"So the Ministry could still arrest me?" Harry asked quietly.
Tom nodded, his eyes narrowing.
"You need to prove a wand won't enable you. If you're about to get Lyra back then you need to start preparing now. Lupin won't be able to hide her forever and once she's revealed you'll need to demonstrate perfect control in Occlumency and magic."
Harry's throat tightened slightly at that. He lowered his wand and stared at it.
"You really think I can do it?"
Tom's hand slipped at once into his. A rush of comfort mixed in with Harry's own terror flared between them.
"I know you can, Harry."
Harry's thoughts swirled, doubt overwhelming.
"You wouldn't let me try without Snape's potion-"
A funny look crossed over Tom's face.
"Lyra changes everything," he said firmly. "If you think everything has been intense so far, she's going to be a whole different thing, Harry. You need to be ready."
Harry nodded numbly. He'd survived turning demented, surely this couldn't be harder.
The day went painfully slowly.
Harry wanted to skip lunch and dinner, but Tom flat out refused.
"We can't draw attention to ourselves," he said. "Plus, I don't want to be in Hogsmeade any longer than we need to be."
At least Tom slipped Harry his wand again in double transfiguration. However, Einaris noticed and he spent the rest of the lesson prowling around Harry and Tom's desk making sure they stuck to reading chapter four of Intermediate Transfiguration. After lunch, they had double potions. Laraine, who normally flicked around a little too close than dæmons usually would, ignored them all lesson which meant Harry and Tom were free to speak in hushed whispers.
Dinner was an agonising affair. Harry pushed around his dinner as Tom chatted to Ron and Hermione.
It felt like an age before the first students left their house tables and Tom finally agreed they could leave. Harry's nerves were shot to pieces and it had been difficult to eat, and harder still not to watch other dæmons. To think that he would soon have his own was terrifying and exhilarating.
It was only when they were walking back up their tower did Harry get overwhelmed by a sudden horrible sinking feeling.
"We won't have to give Lyra straight to Lupin, will we?" Harry asked tentatively. "I know he agreed to hide her, but I don't want to get her back to just give her away again-"
Tom didn't look at him, he just continued climbing up the narrow stone steps to their room and Harry didn't dare ask again.
Hedwig was already roosted in the nook of the window, tucked in the thin slit of the stone. The rest of their room was completely untouched from how they'd left it this morning.
Tom sat down on the squashy sofa set against the curved wall of their room. He pressed his fingers to his temple and shut his eyes.
Harry crossed to where Hedwig was, and began stroking her feathers. She hooted once, her amber eyes blinking shut also.
"Should we write back?" Harry asked quietly.
Tom pulled his fingers away from his temple and shook his head.
"An owl, particularly one as notable as Hedwig, could draw attention to where Black is. He'll wait for us."
Harry nodded, but he felt anything but calm. Behind Hedwig, a cool breeze was flowing through the window. The sun had long since set and the snow continued to fall, despite a slight parting in the clouds which revealed the bright light from the full moon.
"Why the shrieking shack?" Harry asked cautiously.
Tom glanced up, but he didn't look concerned.
"I don't think Black would know the significance of the place to us," he said. "Plus the routes into Hogsmeade are all on the Marauder's map. It'll be a familiar place for Black."
"I guess it makes sense he'd rather choose a location away from the castle," Harry said.
Tom frowned.
"Why do you say that?"
"If I were him I'd want to stay away from Dumbledore at all costs," Harry shrugged. "Not to forget, everyone thinks he's a Death Eater."
The light in the room was fading, and several of the candles had already melted low and extinguished. Far below, Harry could see torches lighting the transfiguration courtyard, as several students and dæmons hurried across the deepening snow.
Harry breathed deeply, the air chilling around him as he lent against the wall. It would be awhile before the castle would be quiet.
"It'll be okay, Harry."
Harry didn't look up, could hardly take any comfort. When he failed to respond, Tom closed the distance between them, his hands tugging around Harry's waist, pulling him into a desperate hug.
Harry couldn't help it, his fingers curled into Tom's shirt as he took a shaky breath.
The question he'd been afraid to think on bubbled to the surface in such a rush that Harry blurted it out, the surroundings shifting to reflect his own icy turmoil.
"What if Lyra doesn't want me any more?"
Tom's arms slackened and he drew back, much to Harry's dismay.
"She's your soul, Harry," Tom said, concern crossing his face. "You belong together. She can offer you far more than I can."
It was hard to believe that was possible. Two years without his soul. Even thinking back, Harry couldn't believe it had truly been that long. The ache had burned continuously since then, to consider that it could be filled in only a few short hours was incomprehensible. Harry had almost forgotten what it was like.
Tom was staring past Harry, looking out the window as he traced his fingers in circles against Harry's decayed skin.
"You should stay here."
Harry stared, Tom's words barely processing as the hollow emptiness that was Lyra only seemed to grow more prominent. He should have expected this.
"You want to keep her from me," Harry said, his voice barely audible.
The fact that Tom didn't even try to deny it.
"She's my soul, Tom," Harry whispered. "Lyra's mine-"
Tom seised Harry's hand firmly, stepping forwards despite the pure fear burning in his eyes. Their faces were inches apart and Tom's breath washed dangerously over Harry.
"I will bring her back to you," Tom whispered. "I promise. Just let me bring Lyra into the castle, that's all I ask."
"You're not asking," Harry said numbly. He didn't want to look at Tom, didn't want to believe what he was hearing. "You've already made up your mind."
"You have to be safe, Harry," Tom said. "If something goes wrong and you react badly-"
"Give me the portkey," Harry tried. "Then you won't need to worry-"
Tom's gaze deliberately shifted away. The genuine terror and tremors that ran through their bond were enough confirmation.
Harry's expression shadowed over.
"Right, I get it."
"Harry-" Tom said. "We're so close. I just don't want to leave anything to chance. The Ministry cant find her-"
"You're assuming something will go wrong. We just need to get Lyra from Black. We won't be out the castle for long," Harry argued.
"And if Riddle shows up?" Tom said, voice sharpening. "If he gets to Lyra then we won't have any options left. You realise that don't you? We would have to go to Voldemort."
Harry jerked his head at this, dead eye fixing on Tom's absence. He wanted to scream, to make Tom understand what it was like to be without his soul, but that was exactly what Tom was fighting against.
Harry looked away, because he knew his next words were hollow.
"You won't lose me, Tom."
Tom shook his head, stiffening against Harry.
"I can't take that chance," he whispered. "Voldemort would destroy you past anything recognisable."
Harry couldn't find anything to say to this. He wished he could deny his temptations and be able to resist if only for Tom. It was clear though, from Tom's resolve, that Harry would never leave the castle tonight.
Harry scratched his fingers absently against his arm. His good eye surveyed Tom as he wetted his dried lips.
"Will you leave my wand?"
Tom faltered slightly.
"Harry-"
"It's fine, I get it," Harry bit out.
Tom sighed, running his hand through his hair. He looked genuinely sorry, but that didn't make Harry feel any better.
"I'm going to lock you in. If anything happens send Hedwig straight to Dumbledore."
Hot anger flared within Harry again.
"I'm not doing that-"
"Please, Harry," Tom said, squeezing his wrist tightly. "Dumbledore will do what's best for you, that I do believe."
Harry looked away and didn't say anything. He expected Tom's influence to descend, and then he would be hopeless, desperate to give into Tom's every desire or demand. Instead, Tom took a single breath, eyes bearing into Harry's as a rush of emotion flooded between them.
"I'll owe you a favour," Tom whispered.
Harry stopped at this. The decay where his heart used to be, swirled inside him.
"I forgot we used to do that," he said quietly. "I can't even remember if we were even."
Tom didn't smile.
"Does it matter?"
"No," Harry muttered.
What else had they forgotten. Would it be possible to return to how they had used to be, before Lyra had left and Tom had been ripped from Harry. Harry's absent heart skipped a beat, a rush of fear and anxiety, mixed in with an urgent longing for his own soul. Was it even possible for him to be whole again?
Tom pressed his forehead lightly against Harry's who sunk into him.
"I will bring Lyra back to you," Tom whispered.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, entwined in each other and just existing. Then as sudden as the comfort had come, it was gone.
Tom withdrew abruptly and Harry didn't dare speak for fear of asking him to never leave. He could only watch numbly as Tom swung Harry's invisibility cloak over his shoulders, disappearing immediately from view.
Within seconds, the door creaked open and closed, and Harry heard the distinct sound of the lock clicking into place.
Harry crossed to the thin stone window, where Hedwig was sleeping peacefully. The weather outside was worsening despite the easing winds and Harry could barely make out the courtyard below through the thick snowfall.
The emptiness, the constant pull on his broken soul that had been constant, felt worse than normal. Even though Tom wouldn't be away for long Harry sunk into himself, shadow plunging the room colder to match the temperature outside.
Everything depended on Lyra now.
It was snowing again. Sirius watched as large snowflakes drifted through the gaping holes in the broken roof. He eyed the decrepit room warily, taking in each rotten floorboard, every singed opening in the splintered wall and the door that hung squint, providing just enough space that a dæmon could easily squeeze through.
Lyra would be able to escape, if only granted the right opportunity.
In the centre of the dusty room, Mintaka was chained to the floor. A thick iron collar was clasp around her neck and she scratched her claws deep into the wooden grooves, irritated by her restraints.
Lyra was tucked underneath Mintaka, shielded from the two Death Eaters who stood in the corners of the room. She was currently a pine marten and her wide eyes peered out from under Mintaka's fur, watching Riddle with unrelenting intensity.
Riddle stood perfectly still a few paces away, but he didn't acknowledge Lyra's continued surveillance. He was watching the closed door, waiting silently.
There was an odd expression on the young Dark Lord's face which Sirius didn't like. The months of chasing and planning were coming to a close and Riddle was clearly itching with anticipation, wary that everything depended on this moment. Harry might only be minutes away.
The snow was falling thicker now and snow banks had started to form, only adding to the blanket silence which stretched on.
Sirius lent against the wall of the shrieking shack causing the rotten planks to sag against his weight.
"Why am I still here?"
Riddle's fingers twitched against his wand.
"Are you that eager to die, Black?" Riddle said quietly.
Sirius stretched deliberately, cracking his neck before letting out a sigh that could almost be taken for boredom.
"I've done what you wanted, no point keeping me around, I don't exactly make good company."
Riddle's eyes remained locked on the closed door, but something was clearly off when he spoke.
"Harry has the ability to see a dæmon's true form with his demented eye. He needs to see that your dæmon is here with Lyra."
Sirius laughed gruffly.
"What about you? Bit of a give away isn't it?"
The young Dark Lord flicked his eyes very briefly towards Sirius.
"Harry can't see Tom," Riddle said softly. "He shouldn't see me either."
Sirius frowned. He had almost forgotten about Tom, no wonder Riddle was so on guard. Another piece of the Dark Lord's soul would surely be a tough adversary.
"Speaking of Tom," Sirius said, latching onto the topic. "You don't seem to mention him much. Doesn't Voldemort care about retrieving a part of his soul?"
That certainly caught Riddle's attention. He tilted his head to the side eyes narrowing.
"It's inconvenient that Tom is outwith the control of the Dark Lord. However, with both Dumbledore and the Ministry content to believe he is not a threat, there is no reason to remove him immediately from the enemy."
"And Harry?" Sirius pressed, fearing the response.
"Lord Voldemort has a special request of Harry," Riddle said, with something that almost looked like a smile. "Something that only he has the potential to do."
Sirius stared at this as his stomach did a horrible sort of flip. Across the room Lyra squirmed beneath Mintaka.
"What can Harry do for Voldemort?"
Riddle didn't answer. Instead he walked across to a Death Eater and whispered something under his breath. They dipped their head once, gesturing to the other masked figure before they left. Sirius could hear their footsteps creaking on the rotten steps.
Riddle approached, and stopped just short of where Sirius was, only inches out of reach of Mintaka's tether. He held his wand loosely in his fingers and there was a second when Sirius was sure he would be cursed, but Riddle merely eyed him with a haunted look.
"Is there anything more precious than your own dæmon, Black?"
Mintaka growled, her claws scratching deep into the wood. Sirius didn't look at her, for to do so he would lose all courage.
"Only one thing," he said lightly.
Riddle paused, and he looked distinctly unimpressed.
"I doubt that, but go on Black, indulge me."
Sirius smiled thinly, trying to look relaxed despite his thumping heart.
"Given how obsessed you are with Harry, I thought you would understand."
"You would give up your soul to save Potter?" Riddle said, eyes alight in amusement, "I'm afraid you're a little too late for that, Black. Potter's soul will never recover."
"I spent eleven years in Azkaban," Sirius shrugged. "Do you really think Mintaka came out unscathed? That she is worth anything in comparison?"
Behind Riddle, Mintaka shifted silently. Her paws pressed into the dust, body crouched low and ready to pounce. Sirius wetted his lips, knowing he could not prolong the moment any longer. He braced himself, taking a deep breath.
"And if you could create an opportunity to restore your dæmon fully, would you not take it?" Riddle hissed, a cold smirk crossing his face as his eyes flashed red.
Sirius froze and even Mintaka stopped, ears twitching. Riddle's implications were harrowing.
"What exactly does Voldemort want with Harry?" Sirius asked coldly.
Riddle smiled, but it was clear that he wasn't going to answer. Instead he turned abruptly, wand sparking, but it was not Mintaka, who had closed the gap between them, that he targeted.
"Stay where you are," he hissed.
Lyra had moved away from the centre of the room. She'd inched towards one of the broken floorboards, one that was just small enough for a pine marten to squeeze through. She froze, body brushing into the floor, as she swiped her tail back and forth, eyes fixed unnervingly on Riddle.
Sirius swallowed thickly, settling his own gaze briefly on Mintaka.
It was now or never.
Mintaka lunged. Riddle was fast, wand flashing red as he twisted.
The curse caught Sirius' shoulder, slamming him to the ground. Mintaka yelped, caught under the same affect as she collapsed, legs giving way from under her.
Riddle moved to hover over him, eyes dark in amusement.
"That was very foolish, Black-"
Something large and heavy slammed into the side of him.
Riddle staggered, both wand and breath knocked away as he was thrown mercilessly to the ground. Sirius could barely see, the effort it took just to move his head around.
The sight made Sirius' blood run cold.
A lioness was crouched over Riddle, pinning him firmly in place. Riddle lay perfectly still beneath her, his expression contorted into something unpleasant.
"Lyra," he breathed.
Lyra growled, snout rippling and she dug her claws against his flesh. Riddle's chest rose and fell sharply but he looked thoroughly alive, as if her presence was invigorating.
"You know this has to be done," Riddle hissed. "It would be far easier if you both cooperate. Harry cannot escape this."
Lyra roared, teeth bared as she shifted her weight forward.
Sirius' watched helplessly, panic growing. The Death Eaters still lingered nearby. All they had to do was hear something was amiss and they would return, and then there would be no hope.
At that moment, Riddle shifted his arm and Sirius' heart stopped.
The wand lay only inches away.
"Lyra, go!" Sirius screamed, just Riddle's fingers curled around it.
Faster than a blink of an eye, Lyra transformed. Large wings flapped frantically as she took flight, narrowly avoiding the bright red curse. Dust and snow swirled around her as she fluttered upwards, slipping through a large hole in the roof, and into the open sky.
Without thinking, Sirius threw himself into Mintaka's mind. His muscles surged to life as he pounced, teeth snarling and biting as he collided with Riddle, succumbing to pure animal instincts alone.
Red light flashed again, and a burning pain seared across Sirius' chest. His jaw slackened and blood pooled thick in his mouth. He fell with a heavy painful thud to the floor, legs collapsing under his broken and bleeding body.
Riddle stood over him, clutching a wounded arm to his chest.
"You deserve a painful death, Black," Riddle hissed.
There was a split second before Riddle slashed his wand.
Sirius reacted without thinking. He separated from Mintaka, grabbing frantically and blindly forwards.
A burst of flames erupted from the tip of the wand. The heat was immediate, scorching, rolling in waves across the room. White hot pain seared straight through Sirius, a scream burst violently from his lips, fingers blistering and swelling as he scrabbled uselessly forwards to seise Riddle's wrist.
"Stop it," Sirius shouted, twisting the wand upwards, away from Mintaka, so that the flames shot up into the ceiling. "Extinguish it!"
"Let go," Riddle hissed, his own fingers barely holding the wand steady, his strength weakened from the human touch alone.
Sirius only gripped tighter. His mind racing to remember counter curses he hadn't used in over a decade. This fire however was unnatural, alive and sentient. It twisted violently to the roof, mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts. Flaming serpents, chimaeras and dragons rose against the ceiling, eagerly seeking out prey to burn.
Despite the sweat rolling from his forehead and the unbelievable heat flaring across his skin, Sirius' insides went icy cold.
Fiendfyre.
Riddle grinned, eyes manic and alight.
"Your dæmon will burn," he hissed.
Sirius opened his mouth to retort, to promise Riddle the same ruthless fate, but he never got a chance to speak for his breath was sucked away from the thick smoke.
A few paces away, Mintaka had managed to pull herself back onto her feet. She staggered forwards, reacting on her wild untameable instincts alone.
"Min-"
She didn't respond, he was unknown to her. With one final growl and unimaginable power she threw herself at Sirius. Mintaka collided hard, slamming into Sirius side, teeth snapping as drool and blood sprayed across the both of them.
There was a loud snap, and a clatter as something dropped onto the floor. Heat burst immediately upwards, alive and brutal. Mintaka yelped, the weight of her body shifting away.
Simultaneously, fiery serpents coiled around Sirius' arm. He jerked, pain blossoming as fire danced up his skin, digging in and burrowing, seeking out flesh to burn. He screamed, rolling away to shake off the viscous fire.
Panting heavily, he barely had time to comprehend the situation when a loud whine sounded.
Sirius head whipped around. Mintaka was cowering, trapped against the wall as flames danced around tauntingly at her feet.
Riddle's wand lay broken just before her. Fiendfyre continued to stream out of it, hot and intense, spreading hungrily up to he side of the shrieking shack, caressing the timber and encouraging the fiery beasts that danced above.
Riddle had withdrawn and stood unscathed in the doorway, watching hauntingly. There was a swirl of smoke, and Sirius blinked, eyes stinging, streaming from the ash. He could barely see, didn't know if Riddle still lingered, blocking his one exit or not.
Sirius limped forwards desperately, seeking a path in the flames.
"Min, it's me."
Mintaka growled, her teeth gnashing as she jerked violently.
There was a tremendous crack and the building shook and trembled. Sirius scrambled backwards, barely missing a burning beam that fell from the ceiling. It crashed to the ground, sending up a plume of ash and smoke. The floor splintered open, wood and nails plummeting into the room below, stoking the raging inferno.
The smoke was thick, black and consuming, swirling around and obscuring everything. A fresh wave of intense heat rolled across Sirius' skin. It was suffocating and completely disorientating.
Mintaka howled, throwing herself uselessly against her chain that was embedded in the floor. Sirius crawled forwards, throat raw as his lungs burned. It wasn't possible to miss the freezing cells of Azkaban yet Sirius longed for the unforgiving relentless cold.
"Min-"
Mintaka's fur was soaked, several large gashes ripped through her flesh and she lunged towards him, wild and afraid.
There was only one way this could end.
Sirius took what little breath he could, knowing he would rather face her unrelenting jaws and burn together than spend another second apart.
He never got to move.
The fiendfyre leapt forwards, like a fiery dragon engulfing him. Flames danced across his raw flesh and Sirius braced himself, expecting instant, furious torture.
Pain seared through his nerves, as simultaneously, inexplicably, fresh air flooded Sirius lungs. He fell forward gasping, fingers pressing against scorched wood that was unnaturally cool to touch. Sirius whirled, utterly confused, watching as the flames and smoke retreated, parting to linger at the recesses of the room.
Someone stood in what remained of the burnt doorway, staring in at the destruction.
Delirious Sirius scrambled towards Mintaka, who's razor sharp teeth missed him by inches. For a moment, he thought Riddle had remained, not satisfied to trust the fire to solely consume its prey.
It wasn't Riddle.
Sirius' heart skipped a beat as he opened his mouth to speak, only to find his throat constrict from lingering smoke.
"Tom-"
Harry's other dæmon.
Tom stepped into the room, wand raised to withhold the deadly surroundings, as if the fiendfyre was only a mere inconvenience. He approached with no hesitation, stepping around the broken floorboards as if there wasn't a raging fire still burning below.
Sirius found the tip of the wand pointed straight at his heart.
Tom tilted his head, cold eyes surveying him for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was just as commanding, unwavering and as cruel as Riddle's and for a moment Sirius believed he would truly die, if only for leaving Harry's dæmon at Riddle's mercy.
"Where is Lyra?"