Chapter 25
Glances. That was all he had, between the cursing and the shielding and the shouting, all Sirius had was glances to make sure that Harry was still fighting. Every fibre of his being wanted to go and help, but Harry had trusted him with something and he was going to make sure he did it. He was going to make sure that he, Fleur, Anaïs and all the professors made it back to the school.
Normally, the relatively low number of Death Eaters that were coming their way would have been pretty manageable, especially with Fleur with him. The problem was that the professors were there too. They were getting a few curses in here and there, some lethal and some not, but their contributions were outweighed by their hindrances. These were teachers, not fighters, and both Sirius and Fleur spent far too much of their time shielding them rather than fighting back.
Suddenly, the curses stopped as the eyes of all involved snapped towards the ward line, and Sirius momentarily forgot how to breathe. Fiendfyre was now swirling around where Harry had been moments before, and while it was difficult to control anyone with enough hatred in them could cast it. Not even Harry could survive if one of the Death Eaters cast it in anger, despite the fact that it would more than likely kill everyone else too. But then bigger, blacker flames crashed into the swirling inferno, and then the fire stopped. There, stood in a ring of ash and blackened soil, was Harry.
Air rushed back into Sirius's lungs, only for it to be swiftly knocked back out of him as a curse sent him tumbling backwards. He rolled to back to his feet and swatted the expected curse away with a snarl. Anaïs was cowering behind Fleur who was doing her best to protect the both of them as well as the professors from the onslaught as the tide of Death Eaters finally began to slow.
Where before the school had been a solid block of white, they were now close enough that he could make out the detailing on the walls and the shifting shadows in the windows where older students watched. Both he and Fleur seemed to have the same idea as instead of casting to kill they herded the Death Eaters into a smaller group where they would be unable to dodge, and even if they did then the curse would likely hit one of the others. Even the professor's curses suddenly became more effective as the Death Eaters were forced closer and closer together, and before long the Death Eaters were starting to drop like flies, either unconscious, dead, or somewhere between the two.
Sirius looked up just in time to see Voldemort go flying through the air and roll to a stop like a ragdoll. Elation rose in his throat. The bastard was finally dead! And then he stood back up, his chest dented inwards, and with a swipe of his wand sent a wave of decay flooding across the lawn, cresting and breaking as if it were liquid. Sirius watched in horrified fascination as the grass withered and died as the wave crawled across the ground until it stopped and slowly seeped into the dirt.
Distantly he heard the the professors calling as the great doors opened silently behind him and the gasping, shouting aurors that trooped out, but instead of retreating to safety he started moving forwards. Harry wasn't going to kill Voldemort, if that was even possible. And if he wasn't going to kill him then he was going to get himself killed.
Disgust squirmed on his tongue as he watched a thick sludge ooze from the slash that Harry had cut in Voldemort's abdomen, but he carried on moving, pausing only to flick away the scattered curses of the few Death Eaters that hadn't turned tail and ran as soon as the blue cloaks of the French aurors appeared.
He was too far away to do anything but watch when Harry was finally stunned, and as he was dragged away towards the ward line by an invisible hand, Voldemort smirked at him. Helplessness and anger warred with fear, and fear won out. So, with a shudder Sirius turned and walked back towards the school, ignoring the aurors that were checking the dead or that tried to question him. Cracks echoed across the grounds as what remained of the Death Eaters vanished along with their master, and with him Harry.
With his chest caved in and a weeping gash across pale skin, Voldemort had looked like a walking corpse. Sirius didn't think he would ever forget that image.
As soon as he crossed the threshold he felt every pair of eyes on him with expressions ranging from suspicion to fear. He didn't care. The entrance hall was full of aurors and professors, and he could see a few students peering down at them from the stairs above. It was eerily quiet though, silent but for hushed whispers and the scuff of shoes, and it was only then that he felt his shirt sticking to his bloody side and heard the ringing in his ears.
The crowd parted and Fleur appeared, her own robes torn and bloodied, with Anaïs clinging to her hand.
He shook his head.
Fresh tears welled in Anaïs's eyes and Fleur's closed tightly before they opened again, glistening slightly. Sirius felt his own eyes prickle but blinked them away. He still hadn't completed his promise.
He made his way across the entrance hall with Fleur and Anaïs following closely behind towards where Madame Maxine was stood watching. When she saw them her distressed expression became marred with sorrow, and Sirius felt his fist clench just slightly harder.
"Can we use your floo?"
She nodded and wordlessly led them towards the stairs.
"Miss Delacour," a severe looking auror tried to say.
"My father will see me when he sees me and not before, I am fine. I have told you this already. We are leaving." She said harshly.
The auror looked like he had been slapped as he glared at Sirius with equal measures hatred and suspicion before he strode off. They followed Madame Maxine silently up the stairs and through the corridors until they came to the Headmistresses office, passing oil paintings and beautiful tapestries that Sirius would never remember seeing.
"I am sorry." Madame Maxine said as she took a silver pot from the mantelpiece and handed it to Fleur.
Sirius wondered whether she knew who it was that had been taken. Not who Harry was, there was no way she could know that, but that it was their family. Anaïs had lost her father figure, Sirius a boy who may as well have been his own blood and Fleur a who knows what, but someone that was precious to her nonetheless.
With a stiff nod Sirius took a hold of both Anaïs and Fleur and flooed to the French magical district and immediately apparated to a field in Spain, and then to an alleyway in Munich and a forest in Sweden. Finally, they appeared in a small side street of small village, much like any village that would be found in England or Germany or Switzerland or any other European country.
"The Cellar is located in Laško, Slovenia." Sirius said.
This was his newest refuge if ever anything went wrong, as was a possibility in his line of work. He had rented it with cash under a different name in a place he had never even heard of so that it would never be traced back to him. Not even his wife nor his 'coworkers' knew about it, and as he had only started renting it recently neither would Harry. When he had cast the Fidelius charm over it he had named it The Cellar, after his favourite hiding place when he was a child and he and Regulus would play hide-and-seek. It had been funny at the time, but he could find no humour in it now.
Neither of his two companions even reacted as the buildings split apart in front of them as another identical cottage seemed to grow and grow from a single point between them until where there were two buildings there were now three.
As soon as they crossed the threshold Anaïs yanked her hand away and ran upstairs, and a few seconds later the slam of a door echoed through the house.
"Can you stay with her a while?" he asked, "I need to see my family, and I need to tell Tonks. She shouldn't have to hear about this at work."
Fleur nodded.
They both tried to smile at each other, but all they could manage was a grimace. A few flicks of his wand healed most of his wounds; he would still be sore and he would be left with a jagged scar instead of a neat, near invisible line, but right now that didn't matter to him.
A few seconds later he appeared on the doorstep of his house and let himself inside. He heard the soft pattering of feet on wood as Sofia appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and the smile melted off her face as soon as she saw him.
"Sirius? What happened?" she asked as she rushed towards him.
He didn't say anything, but as soon as his wife took his head in her hands he broke down. Tears stung at the cuts on his face that he hadn't even realised were there and his knees felt suddenly weak. He didn't know how long they stood there, him clutching her to him as his tears fell slowly down his cheeks and dripped into her hair.
"Siri, talk to me, please."
"I can't," he whispered, "no matter how much I want to I can't. I swore an oath not to tell a soul. And I never want to, because if I can talk about then the oath has broken, and if the oath is broken then he's..."
He wouldn't finish that sentence. That wouldn't happen. Instead, he drew a deep shuddering breath and tried to still the river that was raging in his throat. Harry was strong. He had survived worse monsters than Voldemort. He'd get himself out.
"Lets get you to bed, shall we?" Sofia said as she gently led him towards the stairs.
Truth be told sleep was the last thing he wanted, regardless of the exhaustion that was slowly settling in his bones. If he fell asleep then he knew he would plagued with watching Harry get dragged away over and over again, and he'd see Voldemort's cruel smirk and his grotesque body. There wasn't much that scared him even in the waking world, but he was terrified of Voldemort even when he was sleeping.
What he really wanted to do was drink. He hadn't had a drink since the weeks and months after Harry 'died'. Even the smell of firewhiskey was now enough to put him right back then, sprawled on his office floor trying to quiet the guilt and the anger. A drink now felt appropriate.
"Not yet. There's someone I need to see first. They deserve to hear it from me."
Sofia looked ready to protest until she looked into his eyes. Pain beyond pain, anger, guilt, the normal happiness that danced in them absent. She hadn't seen that look since the day his Godson died.
"Dad?"
"Hi Hattie."
Harriet smiled slightly at his affectionate name for her even as she looked concernedly at her father. Her dad was the only one who called her that; she preferred Harry, but her mother had long since explained to her why her father sometimes struggled with that name.
"What happened?"
"One of my friends got in some trouble and I helped them out, that's all. Don't worry, I'm okay. I'm a Black, remember? It takes a lot more than this to hurt me. I'll see you both later, I just need to go and see someone quickly."
With that he turned and left, knowing that if he stayed much longer then he wouldn't be able to bring himself to wrench himself away from the comfort of his family. Details of the attack would soon spread to the auror department, and it wouldn't take Tonks long to work it all out. She didn't deserve to have to pretend that it was just any other attack.
He cast a patronus with a flick of his wand and watched as it bounded away and out of sight towards the ministry. Sighing, he apparated to Tonks' apartment and waited, leant against the wall next to her door. Before long he heard the click of the door unlocking and the door swung open as Tonks ushered him in.
"Merlin Sirius, what's so important? Something's got all the brass uptight so it was a right pain in the arse to get away."
"Voldemort attacked Beauxbatons, tried to kidnap Anaïs. She's safe; Harry, Fleur and I got there just in time. It was a trap, though. As soon as the few Death Eaters who were trying to drag Anaïs away were taken care of Voldemort appeared, along with dozens more. They wanted Harry."
"And?" Tonks asked, though from the way her voice wavered she didn't really want him to answer.
"They got him. Harry got into a duel with him. He got stunned. I watched him disappear along with Voldemort and the rest of the Death Eaters."
"But he's not gone, is he?"
"No."
The 'not yet' was left unsaid, but Tonks felt it like a physical blow as she silently sat down on her sofa. People didn't just escape from Voldemort, not even Harry.
She felt guilty. Immeasurably guilty. If she had been there, she thought, if there was another wand fighting, then maybe things would have gone differently. If she had just accepted what he did in Hogsmeade then maybe they would have been able to hold off Voldemort and his Death Eaters as well as keep Anaïs safe. But she hadn't accepted it, hadn't forgiven him, and he was gone because of she had been unwilling accept him for the person he was.
She hadn't even been surprised with what he did; to him killing those stunned Death Eaters in Hogsmeade was the right thing to do, both morally and practically. But, for some reason, even though she knew that she had stubbornly refused to accept that that was just who Harry was. And look where it had got them. She hadn't seen him in over three months, stubbornly staying away despite how it had hurt, and now she might never see him again, all over a few blood supremacists.
"What are we going to do? We can't just do nothing." she said as she ran her hands through her now limp brown hair.
"I don't know. I really don't know."
~Scene Change~
Groggily, Harry blinked himself back to awareness. The room he was in was dim, lit only by a ribbon of flickering light that streamed in from beneath the door, with stone walls and a high stone ceiling. He was dangling from chains that hung from the ceiling above his head, his bare feet just barely brushing the cold stone floor. He cast a wandless cutting curse against the chain, almost as an afterthought. The impulse rushed up his arm just like it always did until it reached his wrist, and then it disappeared. He squinted up and saw twin bracelets adorning his wrists, inscribed with runes that glowed dimly in the low light.
Magic suppressing bracelets. They were effectively an incredibly inefficient runic lumos charm that sucked the magic out of you once it got close and dispersed it as light. Even spells were absorbed, hence the keyholes on each of them. He hadn't even thought they would work on him. For most witches or wizards, the bracelets would only kick in if they tried to cast. For him, it would be a constant drain. He banged his wrists against each other, hoping to get lucky and for them to fall off. They didn't.
The door opened then, and Harry had to snap his eyes closed to shield against the sudden brightness as torches flared to life around the room.
"You look surprised." Dirlewanger said with a smile once Harry had blinked the spots from his eyes.
"You should be dead; they said they were going to kill you once they got all the information they could."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint. Their petty morals got in the way, you know how it is. People are weak. Look where your weakness has got you." he said as he pointed at the chains around his wrists.
Harry just glared back at him, and Dirlewanger grinned at the way the runes on his bracelets started to glow brighter.
He felt him before he saw him, the sickeningly familiar blackness that seeped between the gaps in the doorframe. The door opened again and Voldemort entered, wand dangling threateningly from his fingers, with Snape following a few steps behind.
"Hello Snivellus, Tom. How's the ribs?"
The next second he felt himself bombarded with the worst pain he had ever felt. It was the first time he had been put under the cruciatus curse, and all these years he had assumed he would be able to take it. He was used to pain; pain was his oldest friend and most loyal companion, the cruciatus would be nothing worse than what he had suffered before. How wrong he had been.
It felt like hours before the curse was lifted, and he felt his limbs twitch and tasted the blood in his mouth as he struggled to catch his breath. He must have screamed.
He hadn't noticed.
A pale finger lifted his chin up from where it had slouched against his chest, and glittering red eyes stared into his.
"Legilimens." Voldemort whispered.
Harry retreated into his mind and watched as Voldemort probed at both weak points and strong, testing to see how strong they really were, trying to work out which were traps and which were genuine. After a few minutes he launched an attack, pushing and straining at Harry's mental shield until it started to crack and splinter. The barrier finally broke and Voldemort forced his way through, and he barely managed to sense the next set of barriers before he felt himself falling endlessly downwards, plummeting towards a floor that was never there.
When he withdrew from the boy's mind his prisoner smiled mockingly at him. He cast the cruciatus again and immediately tried once more to break into the boys mind, but once again he was rebuffed.
"As I suspected..." Voldemort whispered, seething with embarrassment, "the mind arts alone will not suffice… Severus, the potion."
Harry glared at Snape as he stepped forwards and handed Voldemort a pale shimmering potion, and Snape looked back at him with nothing more than quiet amusement.
A wave of Voldemort's wand forced his jaw open before he felt several drops of the potion splatter on his tongue. The moment he felt his eyes cloud over he knew that this was no ordinary veritaserum; the mist was thicker, the compulsion to tell the truth stronger.
"What is your name?"
"Harry." he said, struggling to stop his full name spilling from his lips.
"Where were you trained?" Voldemort asked, "where did you learn the magics you wield?"
Silence. Voldemort snarled.
"Where did you learn!" he screamed.
Still silence. The boy's face was crumpled in effort, but still he did not speak.
The Dark Lord whirled to glare at his potions master. He would be punished for his failure, of course, but if he was honest he had not expected it to work. He, Lord Voldemort, had been unable to breach the boys shields. Veritaserum, modified though it was, would be unlikely to be effective.
Incensed at the boy's insolence, Voldemort reached to pour yet more of the potion down his prisoners throat.
"My Lord," Severus spoke up.
This time Voldemort's glare was far more venomous, and Snape shrank slightly as he felt it.
"I apologise My Lord, forgive me. The modifications I made to the serum to increase its potency were toxic. Too much or too often risks killing him."
The Dark Lord considered his options. The boy's eyes were already starting to clear. Even an increased dose may still not be effective, and that would likely kill him. There would be no way of finding out what he needed to know.
"Felix, he is yours. Do not fail me."
"Of course, my lord. Thank you my lord."
With a final glare Voldemort and Snape both swept from the room. Dirlewanger pushed himself off the back wall where he had been leant and approached with his wand twirling menacingly between his fingers, a vicious smile on his face.
"You're a metamorphmagus, I see. How interesting, I assume this is your natural form, yes? You wouldn't scar yourself so violently by choice." he said, gesturing to the scars that criss crossed Harry's torso.
"How did you find her?" Harry asked quietly as he felt the last vestiges of the potion fade from his mind.
"With a disappointing lack of difficulty, I must say. I would have expected more of you. Anywho, when I got out of the prison into which you tossed me I wanted only to kill you in such a slow and painful way that you beg me to end it, but I could hardly do that if I didn't know where you were, could I? So I... quizzed, a few people about you. Now I admit, my manners somewhat left me when I was asking them questions but most told me what I wanted to know nonetheless. How kind of them, don't you think? To answer someone even when they were rude. It almost makes me regret killing them.
"I'm getting distracted, I apologise. They told me that you had practically disappeared for almost a year, taking the same number of contracts in all that time as you usually would in a month or less. And I thought to myself, what could possibly cause such a thing?
"I was expecting an injury, maybe a girlfriend or a crisis of morals, certainly not a child! Full credit for surprising me, I must say. As to how I found out about that, which I know was your original question but I do like to ramble, it makes things so much more interesting, I simply trawled through every significant ripple in the underbelly of the wizarding world around the time you shrunk into the shadows and found that a sex trafficking ring had been broken up, every guard slaughtered and several men who purchased some of the creatures which were sold had mysteriously gone missing, regardless of the strength of their wards. I knew it was you, your weakness for women and children obvious. Who else?
"I tracked down one of the animals that you rescued and combed through her memories until I found the one of you rescuing her. Some of the things she had been forced to do by the men who kidnapped her... oh, to think they call me a demon! I never did anything like that! Watching it made even me feel slightly green. She remembered you talking to a little veela girl as she portkeyed away, but no one had ever seen the girl after that - not any ministry, conclave or colony. You kept her, that was the only explanation.
"Were it anybody but you I'd have thought you were simply sampling the goods," he said, grinning at the way his prisoner strained against his chains, "but not you, so I decided you must have adopted the filthy little creature. After that it was a simple case of finding her, and there really aren't that many young veela girls who are thought missing yet mysteriously appear a year later none the worse for wear."
Harry's head had drifted slowly downwards as Dirlewanger spoke, his arms had gone limp and the perpetually glowing runes on the bracelets had dimmed.
"Don't look so glum; ego, dear ferryman, is the bane of all powerful wizards. It is what brought you here, just as it is the reason that you still remain. You have wielded magics that even the Dark Lord is unaware of, and that to him is inexcusable. You survive only because he cannot accept someone knowing more of magic's secrets than him. Once I've plucked those secrets from your mind, though, you're all mine."
Harry had to stop himself shuddering at the thought. Some of the things that Dirlewanger had done in the past would make the Devil himself shudder. Mutilation, stitching animal body parts to people, trying to remove the magical cores from their bodies. He had never succeeded in doing so, but Harry could only imagine the pain that those people went through before they were finally allowed to die.
"Have you ever wondered why I don't use the killing curse?" Dirlewanger asked suddenly as he conjured a plush armchair and sat down, one leg crossed over the other, appearing much like a poet of old.
"It's not because I can't do it, no, of course not, it's because it's too quick. You can't savour all the… little emotions. You know what I'm talking about – you've seen it. It is in their last moments that people show you who they really are. Most people are cowards. They're absolutely terrified, but like a favourite food I've become bored with it after so many years. Its just so... ordinary. You though, o-ho, you are so very different, so very exciting. You don't fear death at all, you embrace it. Expect it even. Death is so familiar to you that it has become as much a part of you as your blood or your bone. You only fear what you will leave behind." He said quietly, as though lost in deep thought.
"But I don't l plan on killing you," he said with an obnoxious amount of cheer in his voice, "not yet anyway. You put me in that place, and for that you will have to suffer. The guards there, well, they didn't like me very much. Apparently I killed their families. You learn something new every day I suppose. They asked if I remembered them. A stupid thing to ask; of course I don't. A farmer does not remember every pig he has butchered. They didn't like that. Oh no, not at all.
"They beat me, starved me, tortured me to the best of their really rather disappointing abilities but they still kept me alive. That was their mistake; they're dead now. They didn't die well either. Such an enjoyable day," he said wistfully.
"But it was you who put me there," he said as he leant forward in his chair until his face was bare inches away, "and for that I will take great pleasure in making you feel such unimaginable pain that your psyche will shatter even as your body withers and crumbles, and then I will plunder your mind for every single inconsequential shred of information. I will find your adopted daughter and she will become the plaything of every murderer and every deviant we can find, a toy to be used again and again and again until finally she dies and they discard her like the filth that she is, and I will keep you alive to watch the hope and the life drain from her eyes until they are empty but for pain and terror. And only when what matters most to you has been ripped away before your eyes, only then will I allow you to die.
"I'm reminded of something my mentor once said to me: 'if you want to hurt a man, do not target him. Target what he loves. Take that which he holds dear to his heart and twist it, corrupt it, or destroy it altogether. Then and only then will you hurt him in a way that he will feel in his soul.' So, that is what I'm going to do."
Harry smiled at Dirlewanger as he forcefully banished those images from his mind. No amount of pain would work. All they would accomplish is reuniting him with his oldest friend. None of that would happen. It couldn't.
"Try."
The demon laughed, shrill and maniacal, and when he looked back towards Harry his face was twisted into a cruel grin.
"I had so hoped you would say that."
~Scene Change~
Three days after the attack Sirius Black was finally ready to get back into the world. The prophet had reported all about the Death Eater attack on Beauxbatons, theorising on Voldemort's motive for attacking France and had given a fairly accurate recounting of events, including that he was there.
He had spent the past few days split between his family and the safehouse in Slovakia. His family still didn't understand what was going on, and the prophet article had complicated things. Sofia had accepted that he couldn't tell her why he was there or who the man who was captured was, but it was clear that she didn't like it. The day would come that she demanded the truth, and no more excuses would work.
In Slovakia, the atmosphere was as depressing as almost any he had ever been in. Anaïs hardly ever left her room and Fleur had been affected even more than he would have thought she would be. Tonks had come round too, her guilt plain to see even to a blind man, but still Fleur avoided her where possible and looked at her with disdain where it wasn't. Sirius thought that Fleur blamed herself for Harry getting captured just as he did, only unlike him she was shifting that blame as much as she could instead of wallowing in it. Tonks just accepted it though, and he could see the way she was slowly starting to spiral. He should talk to Fleur and to Tonks, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to.
When Anaïs was occasionally seen, the three of them tried to keep a brave face for her. They told her it was only a matter of time before he came back, that there was nothing on heaven or earth that could stop him. Deep down though, Sirius wasn't sure they were going to see him alive again. This was Voldemort – you didn't just escape.
While there was a chance though, he wouldn't give up. Until he felt the oath break Harry was still alive, and until then he would do everything he could to find out where he was. It was that determination that had brought him to 'the office'. It was nothing like the cluttered desks of the auror office nor the more private personal offices in other departments; instead, the majority of the space was open and charmed to deflect spells just as duelling platforms were. One wall was taken up with mugshots and details of targets, be they professional or personal, and another was filled was racks of dragon hide armour, wand holsters and knives. He spent several seconds staring at the question mark he himself had put up there all those years ago.
Name: UNKNOWN
Alias(es): CHARON, FERRYMAN
Crimes: MURDER, CLASS A THEFT, EXTORTION, DOMESTIC TERRORISM
At the back was a rarely used room with a book charmed to act much like a muggle computer that was linked to the files of the Auror department of every country that was part of the ICW. He spent the next four hours in there, scouring over first the report from Beauxbatons and then through everything else.
The French investigators had managed to track the apparition signatures of Voldemort and the death eaters to Britain, as he had expected they would. That was as exact as they could get though, which meant they must have apparated straight into somewhere with heavy wards. Overall, it wasn't helpful. Voldemort had plenty of pureblood supporters with old manors surrounded by wards that would obscure their apparition signature, or he could have simply warded somewhere else himself.
The British auror files were slightly more helpful, but not by much. Increased magical activity had been detected all over the country, but he could rule a few of those places out. One was where he knew the Potters to live – they must have improved their wards. Another was where he remembered Malfoy Manor to be from his visits as a child; Voldemort wouldn't risk keeping Harry in the same place he was residing, and if his suspicion was right that would be in the home of one of his most ardent supporters behind some of the strongest wards in the country. So, Sirius mentally ruled Malfoy Manor out.
That still left countless other locations that seemed to be completely random; populated areas and open countryside, magical settlements and muggle cities. Sirius had been counting on the people of magical Britain to continue their streak of stupidity and not prepare for when all out war erupted in earnest, but they hadn't. Most of the increases were probably due to people warding their homes and businesses, but if the Auror office didn't have enough manpower to check then he certainly didn't.
When he finally slammed the door of the back room behind him with a scowl he was just as close to working out where Harry was as he had been when he arrived, and to make matters worse he was no longer the only one there.
"Rodrigues. Zhao." he said with a nod.
"Black. You going to explain what we've been seeing in the papers?"
"No."
Sirius walked straight past them towards the door, but he snapped to a stop when Zhao shouted after him.
"I've heard a few things, Black, about the guy who fought your British Dark Lord. Not many people who could do what he did. Some people are saying that there was a glowing green stone on the butt of his wand, just like the bastard who killed Abara and Horvat, your BFF. And I thought to myself, 'surely not. Not him. Black wouldn't sink that low, he wanted him dead even more than us.' But here you are, not even denying it. You don't even look angry when I bring him up. What are you hiding, Black? Are you a traitor?"
Sirius wasn't sure if it was the events of the past few days, the tone of voice or his long time dislike of Zhao, but his wand appeared in his hand almost of its own volition, and thirty seconds later both Rodrigues and Zhao were crumpled on the floor and bound in ropes. There was a time where duelling against Zhao alone would have been difficult, never mind against Rodrigues at the same time.
With a sneer Sirius threw their wands a few metres away and walked out. They could free themselves once they woke up. He hadn't even thought about the effect of the Beauxbatons attack on his work, but if he was honest, he didn't really care. They had never been friends anyway.
~Scene Change~
Dumbledore gave a long look to the empty seat at the head of the table as he waited for the rest of the Order to arrive. Merlin, how he missed that chair. It wasn't the chair itself, obviously. He didn't care where he sat, but the fact that it was no longer there was a constant reminder of his mistakes. It hurt to see how far he had fallen amongst the people he called his friends and closest allies, even if they themselves may not give him the same label anymore.
Slowly, the other members of the Order trickled in and took their respective places. The Potters and Longbottoms again glared at him just as they had for months now as they entered alongside Alastor who took his seat at the head of the table, his electric blue eye spinning in its socket to look at each one of them in turn. Severus was stood stiffly in the corner, and only once everyone else had arrived did the door swung open a final time as Sirius and Nymphadora entered and took the same seats they always did.
Sirius. They had all seen the prophet, of course. Everyone knew that he had been at Beauxbatons when Voldemort attacked, trying to kidnap a seemingly unimportant veela. He had arrived with the curiously absent Miss Dealcour and another man who had duelled the Dark Lord himself, and had Tom not sacrificed his mortality long ago the man would have won. All eyes were on him, but Sirius seemed not to notice as his eyes never left Severus.
Dumbledore had planned on questioning Sirius as soon as he possibly could, but it was clear that Sirius was ready to erupt at the slightest provocation. Nymphadora too looked equal parts angry and depressed, her dark hair tinged with red.
"If you know something Snape," Sirius growled, "you will tell me, or I will kill you myself."
Snape's trademark sneer appeared on his face as the beginnings of an insult formed on his lips, but both promptly disappeared when a bolt of light punched a hole straight through the wall barely half a foot away from his head. None of them had even seen Sirius reach for his wand.
The look in Sirius's eyes was almost feral, and everyone could feel the rage bleeding off him, daring Snape to say one more word. Even Snape looked fearful as Dumbledore's hand strayed towards his wand, just in case Sirius didn't like Snape's answer.
"I don't know where the boy was taken. Only the Dark Lord's very closest know of his location; Bellatrix, Rabastan, Lucius, as well as the Dark Lord's newest associate."
Sirius didn't look happy at the lack of information, but Nymphadora's hand on his arm managed to prevent him from pushing any further as he sat down with a scowl.
"Any idea who this associate is?" Moody asked.
"No, his identity has been kept strictly under wraps. The common Death Eater has not seen him, only the Dark Lord's inner circle, and even then he was under glamours. Given the effort that has been gone to to ensure he stays anonymous, I fear the Dark Lord is planning a surprise."
Troublingly, Dumbledore agreed. Tom had always loved to be dramatic; a surprise attack to reveal this associate's identity was exactly the sort of thing he would do. If that was the case though, it must be big. Big enough to overpower Tom's typical plan of inciting fear as quickly as possible in favour of his desire to shock.
The meeting continued with reports from various sources within the Ministry, but for the most part there was very little to say. Nothing significant had happened since they last met with the exception of the Beauxbatons attack, and judging by the way everyone's eyes were flickering towards Sirius they were wondering when they were going to talk about it.
"Sirius," Kingsley eventually said, "what happened at Beauxbatons? Why were you there?"
"Family business."
"And the veela girl? The man who duelled the Dark Lord?" he pushed as he grit his teeth.
"Like I said, family business. We protect family."
Kingsley looked towards Moody who shook his head, though both his eyes remained on Sirius. Mutters crept around the room, but none were willing to question Sirius further. Many of the old crew remembered just how vicious Sirius could be when he was in this mood, and the newer members were imagining much the same thing.
As soon as the meeting came to end Sirius stormed out with Nymphadora following closely behind. Dumbledore looked towards Moody, and both men shared a concerned look. They were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle, and Sirius was unwilling to give it to them. Both the Potters had watched Sirius in concern throughout the meeting, and even now Lily was looking worriedly at the stairs up which Sirius had disappeared.
"Lily, James. Could I ask for a word with the two of you in private? In concerns young Jack."
Neither looked at all pleased, but nonetheless followed him to the small living room that sat next to the kitchen and waited as Dumbledore cast privacy charms.
"What is it, Dumbledore?" James demanded.
"I would like your permission to take Jack somewhere that could have vital importance in our fight against Voldemort."
In days past, the Potters would have agreed almost without question. Now, they looked more likely to laugh in his face.
"Why in Merlin's name would we agree to that? Haven't you put our family in enough danger already?"
Dumbledore's eyebrows knitted together behind his half moon spectacles as he evaluated his options, and then with a sigh he cast yet more privacy charms and sat down tiredly in one of the seats, gesturing for the Potters to take the sofa.
He rubbed the lenses of his glasses with the edge of his robe while the Potters waited, and then slowly looked up towards them.
"This absolutely cannot leave this room." he said with a hint of resignation.
The Potters nodded.
"I know how Lord Voldemort survived."
As he had expected both Potters immediately started peppering him with questions, and he raised a hand to stall their interruptions,
"You must understand, there are not many ways to cheat death, and each of them are foul beyond description. I had suspected which of these methods he used, but it was not until I retrieved a memory that my suspicions were confirmed. Tom made horcruxes."
"What is a horcrux?" James asked, and Dumbledore's expression soured.
"A horcrux is, in a word, a perversion. The act of cold blooded murder cracks the soul, and if a potion is drunk and a ritual performed a piece can be torn away and hidden in a capsule. The capsule itself is resistant to almost everything both magical and mundane, and as long as the capsule survives the witch or wizard can survive indefinitely, even if their body is destroyed. I suspect it was one of Tom's horcruxes that possessed young Ginevra to open the chamber of secrets, despite the fact that none was ever found."
"You said one of?" Lily said quietly, "How many are there?"
"I suspect he would have made six, to make a total of seven pieces of his soul. Tom was always a superstitious boy, and seven is a powerful number in the magical world. I discovered the location of several long ago, though I have waited until Jack got older before I considered any action. The prophecy states that it will be Jack that vanquishes Voldemort; does that also mean it must be him that destroys his horcruxes? It is a question I don't know the answer to, but I feel erring on the side of caution is wise when prophecy is involved."
Both Potters nodded gravely.
"I'm still not letting you take him anywhere Dumbledore. Can you not just go yourself, bring it back and then Jack can destroy it?"
"It may not be that simple, Lily. Questions of prophecy aside, we still don't know what it is. I have suspicions of course, but little evidence to back them up. More like educated guesses. It may not be possible to simply move it. It may be too large, or we may not have time due to any defences Tom has cast."
It was clear to him that Lily would not be swayed on this, and even James, who had always been more receptive to him, did not look willing to try to convince her.
"One of you may accompany young Jack, if that is necessary. I would prefer to keep the group small; we don't know what sort of defences Tom will have employed to protect his horcrux."
"I'm coming." Lily said quickly.
Dumbledore did his best to ignore the small argument that followed between the two Potters; he heard the phrase "I'm the auror and you're the teacher" used, something which even he knew was a mistake.
Eventually the Potters reached an 'agreement', though James looked none too happy about it.
"Lily will come with you. I will be waiting at home, and you send me a patronus at the first sign of trouble."
"Very well. Let us retrieve young Jack from Hogwarts and be on our way."
Both Potters nodded without looking at each other as Dumbledore disabled the privacy charms. James stalked out, several paces ahead of his wife with Dumbledore following behind them, and only paused to tell Lily he'd see her later before he apparated away.
Lily and Dumbledore both apparated to the gates of Hogwarts and started on the familiar walk up to the castle in silence. A silver phoenix glided up the hill to ask Minerva to fetch Jack from his common room, and by the time they reached the entrance hall Jack was stood waiting for them, fidgeting next to his head of house.
"Thank you, Minerva." Dumbledore said.
Professor McGonagall nodded stiffly before she turned and walked back up the stairs with a final cool look between him and Lily.
"Mum? What's going on? Is it dad?"
"Your fathers fine, sweetheart. Dumbledore needs to take you somewhere, and I certainly wasn't going to let him do anything without me there as well."
Dumbledore did his best to ignore the hurt that statement caused as Jack turned to him with distrust dancing in his eyes.
"Where are we going?"
"A location of great importance in this war. Come," he said as he began the walk back towards the gates, "the walls have ears."
Jack and Lily stayed a few paces behind him as they made their way out of Hogwarts, talking lowly between themselves. Dumbledore chose not to try and listen in on their hushed conversation, and instead opted to marvel at the majesty of his domain just as he had done for so many years. Hogwarts never ceased to enthral him with her beautiful grounds and the tangible spark of life that danced around them. The wards were his newest love; he had never taken much of liking to the art of warding, but ever since the wards around Hogwarts had been strengthened he had been in awe of them. Beautifully complex and yet marvellous in their simplicity; keep unwanted people out, and keep those inside protected.
Where once before walking through the wards had felt like a brief drizzle of rain, now it felt like being crushed beneath a waterfall. Dumbledore almost expected for his back to be forced to bend.
"Grab a hold of me and we'll be on our way. The apparition may be a bit bumpy as there are three of us but, without wanting to blow my own trumpet, I am more than capable of it."
Lily and Jack lightly grasped each of his arms and they disappeared with a crack and instantly reappeared on a cliff overlooking crashing waves so grey that they seemed to blend into the rolling cloud.
Wordlessly, Dumbledore led them down a series of narrow outcrops that slinked down the cliff face until they came to the entrance to a cave that had been carved into the rock. Dumbledore barely paused before he stepped into the swirling water and swam into the cave, his lit wand held between his teeth.
"Stay here until I tell you to follow." Lily said to Jack, who nodded.
The water was even colder than she had been prepared for, and the moment she dragged herself out of the water and onto the stone floor of the cave she cast so many drying and warming charms on herself she was sure that she must have started steaming.
Dumbledore was already casting charms across every inch of floor, wall or ceiling, and she waited a few seconds before she waved Jack to follow.
"How many people know about them?" she asked quietly as Jack leapt onto the water.
"Myself, you, James and the original source of the memory, your old potions professor, along with the Dark Lord himself. He would not have told a soul how he gained his immortality, if you can call it such a thing.
"There is someone else as well, an unknown witch or wizard who has already destroyed one of Tom's horcruxes, but I haven't the faintest clue who they are. They're powerful and skilled, I know that much, but beyond that? Nothing. It scares me, Lily. Someone we know nothing about could very easily decide the result of this war by writing a single letter. Tom still doesn't know that at least one of them has been destroyed, and it would be disastrous if he found out. With an unknown in play, though, I fear that such a thing may be inevitable."
Lily nodded as Jack clambered out of the water and Dumbledore resumed his spell casting, now focussing on a single stretch of wall. He spent several minutes analysing that small section of stone, touching it with his fingertips, poking it with his wand or simply murmuring a strange, ancient sounding tongue.
"Oh Tom, come now. Surely you are not so crude?"
If anything Dumbledore sounded disappointed, as if Voldemort had fallen below what was expected of him.
Frowning, Dumbledore held out an arm and slashed his wand across it, grimacing as blood splattered across the slick stone, and just as quickly healed the wound. The stone vanished to leave an archway that led into blackness so pure it seemed to absorb the light that flowed from their wands.
"After me, I should think." Dumbledore said.
The cavern they entered was so vast they couldn't see where it ended, and Lily held tightly onto Jack's hand as they followed Dumbledore around the path that clung to the edge of the cavern.
"What the fuck is that?" Jack hissed as the light of his wand passed over a shape floating just beneath the surface.
It was human, or at least it used to be. It was gaunt and pale, with thin hair that floated limply in the water and eyes that were clouded and as white as their skin. It reminded Lily of a crocodile, waiting just below the surface for the buffalo's tongue to touch the water before it attacked.
"Inferi." Dumbledore said, "It appears we have found one of Lord Voldemort's defences. It would be wise to avoid touching anything if possible; thus far they have not realised that we are not Lord Voldemort. Let us keep it that way for as long as possible."
Dumbledore eventually slowed to a near stop and started sweeping his hand through the air, blindly reaching for something until the soft clank of metal echoed around the cavern. A small boat broke the surface of the water and drifted towards them until it gently bumped against the walkway. Instantly Dumbledore was casting various charms on it until he looked up, smiling happily.
"The boat is charmed to carry a single adult wizard, but there are no stipulations other than that. Jack, being underage and unqualified, will not even register next to myself. Myself and Jack will go over first," he said, gesturing towards the softly glowing island at the lakes centre, "and we will then send the boat back for you."
Lily nodded and watched as Jack and Dumbledore carefully climbed into the boat. She didn't like Dumbledore, but she couldn't deny that if the inferi woke up she would rather Jack was next to him.
Her eyes darted around, squinting into the darkness, looking for any sign of movement, any sign that the inferi had woken up. There wasn't any, and before long the boat had drifted back with a flick of Dumbledore's wand and she was clambering into it. Clouded eyes gazed blankly upwards as the boat carried her past without even a ripple. It was eerie, the stillness. The only sound she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears.
When she climbed out of the boat and onto the little island Jack was stood near the edge, watching Dumbledore as he cast charm after charm over a glowing basin, his forehead creased in agitation. The basin was filled with a dark green potion, and she could just about make out a large, oval shaped object sitting at the bottom as she stopped by Dumbledore's side.
"What is it?" she murmured.
"I don't know, though the shape would seem to fit one of my suspicions. My concern is the defences that have been put in place to protect it. Namely that there are none. Well, there appears to be effectively none."
"Nothing at all?"
"There are several charms and wards on the basin to ensure the object cannot be removed until the liquid has been removed, and to ensure the liquid must be drunk. That would imply the liquid itself is a defence, but to me it appears to be a potion intended to make one's nose bigger." Dumbledore said gravely, even as his lips twitched slightly.
"Looks like our mystery witch or wizard has a sense of humour."
"Yes, it would appear so. Though the fact that he or she has been here and has taken the horcrux is worrying. I simply don't like having unknowns in such an important equation, though he is quite clearly not a supporter of Lord Voldemort. The potion does worry me also though."
"Why? It's harmless." Lily asked, genuinely confused.
"But provoking Lord Voldemort in such a way – not only taking his horcrux but poking fun at him as well- it says something about our mysterious ally. He or she is not only powerful and intelligent, but also juvenile. Such power in the hands of someone who is still plagued by vestiges of childishness, Lily, is immensely dangerous to everyone in their orbit. I speak from experience when I say that there are few things more destructive than a child with power that they lack the maturity to weild."
Wordlessly, Dumbledore conjured a goblet and plunged it into the basin. He raised the goblet to his lips, waved cheerily to Jack and promptly gulped it down. By the time he pulled the goblet from his face his nose was twice the size, and by the time all the potion was gone it appeared to be more of a beak than a nose.
Jack laughed, clearly confused. The difference between the effects of the potion and the inferi floating bare feet away was jarring.
Dumbledore reached into the now empty basin and pulled out a great silver locket dangling from a long chain on which green gems formed a stylised S.
"A passable imitation of what I had suspected," Dumbledore murmured.
The front of the locket swung open and a small piece of parchment fell out, drifting slowly downwards before Dumbledore swiped it from the air.
Unlucky, Tommy Boy.
~Scene Change~
Dirlewanger wandered down the street in Godrics Hollow with a grin on his face as he watched the houses burn and listened to the people scream. 'Such a wonderful time of day', he thought as he looked up at the glinting stars that slowly became shrouded in the rising haze of smoke while the Dark Mark hissed and squirmed above it.
The screams were to him a song as beautiful as he had ever heard and he smiled happily as he continued to look around at the carnage. It had been so long since he had been free to kill, pillage and terrorise as he saw fit. His smile faltered slightly as he remembered the look in Charon's eyes when he was captured. Hatred, viciousness, disgust; if it had been up to him then he would have been killed there and then. Ever since he escaped from the hell hole in which he had been thrown he had known that if ever there was even a whisper of his freedom then he would be hunted again. He held no illusions that he would have survived it a second time. But now, that was no longer a problem.
Out of the corner of his eye Dirlewanger saw two of his men holding a screaming wizard back by the arms, forcing him to watch as another used his crying wife. Dirlewanger frowned as he approached and cast a piercing hex into the woman's stomach with barely a glance. The eyes of his men snapped towards him despite the husband's anguished struggling.
"You, what's your name." Dirlewanger said.
The man didn't reply, his focus now solely on his wife's last shuddering, pain filled breaths. He didn't even notice her abuser slowly withdrawing and pulling up his trousers before the light went out behind her eyes. Impatiently Dirlewanger clicked his fingers in front of the man's face until his face slowly turned towards him.
"What is your name?"
"Daniel." He replied tonelessly.
"Well Daniel, you're in luck. You might just survive the night if you just do one teeny tiny thing for me. Do you have children? At Hogwarts perhaps?"
Daniel nodded mechanically and Dirlewanger grinned.
"Excellent! I assume that it's a safe assumption you don't want them to become orphans? Then here's what you're going to do." He said as he withdrew a magical camera from the pocket of his robes, "You're going to take pictures of me, of my men, of the destruction. I want you to really… capture the magic. And then, once you're done, I'll give you a portkey to the offices of the Daily Prophet and you give them the photos. Tell them I want them printed. After that, you're free."
Daniel seemed to be looking straight through him before he nodded once more and with a wave of Dirlewangers hand his arms were released and the camera placed in his hands.
"Well then, off you go!"
Daniel blinked several times before he turned and walked off, taking pictures of everything and anything. Dirlewanger followed, taking it all in. A few times he would put a hand on Daniels shoulder, delighting in the man's terrified shiver and point towards a particularly gut wrenching event. "I think that would look fantastic on the front page," he would say, and Daniel would take a picture of it and they would continue on. His own picture was taken as he walked as well, the shadows of the fires dancing across his face, making his scars pull grotesquely and emphasising the gauntness of his face.
A while later, just as the screams were starting to become muted and the fires starting to burn out, Daniel expressionlessly handed the camera back in a shaky hand. Dirlewanger smiled in thanks and gently patted Daniels cheek.
"Thank you, Daniel. You've been most helpful."
With that he handed the man the severed hand of his wife, her now bloody wedding ring still attached to her finger.
"Your portkey, my friend. Take it, off you go."
Daniel disappeared in a swirl of colour and Dirlewanger watched happily as the last of his men apparated away. It was so good to be free again.
A/N: Sorry for this long, long ass wait. Lost enthusiasm for a while and then came exams. If I ever have to integrate something again I will riot. Anyway, I'm back to writing now that A-Levels are blissfully over. I've got another story going that I'm really into right now so that will probably be getting updated fairly regularly too. Check it out - not much there so far but there should be soon. Again, as always, feedback is appreciated on this and on that too. thanks for reading.