Again, and I say every time, but this fic really wouldn't be possible without Ambush99!

Chapter 16

His nightmares had become reality, Voldemort was back. Death and subsequent resurrection had somehow made Voldemort more horrific than before. Tall, thin and pallid, with long pale fingers which he appeared to be examining with interest. Then there was the face, something that could only have been conceived in hell, which seemed highly appropriate given the owner.

"Wormtail, my wand," Voldemort demanded in his cold, high voice.

Still moaning in agony, clutching what remained of his bleeding arm, Pettigrew staggered up. "Yes, my l-lord," he stammered as he fumbled one-handed for the robes at his feet. He presented the wand to Voldemort before bowing deeply and sweeping backwards.

Voldemort twirled his wand between his fingers as though he was testing it. "Wormtail, come forward," Voldemort demanded. "Your arm!"

Yes my lord, thank you my lord," Wormtail whispered in a shaky voice, as he held out the bloodied stump of his arm.

"No, the other arm," Voldemort said coldly. He watched impatiently as Wormtail held his undamaged arm forward. With his wand he flicked the sleeve of Wormtail's robe up to reveal a dark tattoo, which he tapped, muttering a couple of words. "They'll come, they'll serve me again!"

One by one, masked, dark hooded figures appeared before Voldemort. He pointed his wand to each of them in turn, as though counting them, noting the missing places. "You have returned to my service. Some died in my service, they will be honoured. Some are imprisoned, they will be released. One has left my service forever, another is too cowardly to return; they will be killed. One has performed the greatest of tasks; he will be honoured above all others. But you must know, I will punish any disservice," he said as he walked up and down the line, pointing to each figure in turn. He spun around. "Avada Kedavra," he said lightly, as he pointed his wand at Wormtail.

Sirius bit back a scream as he watched his former friend fall to the ground, dead. Whatever Wormy had done, even with the betrayal of his friends, the torture he had put Sirius through, Wormy hadn't deserved that. The man had been his friend. He still strongly believed he had been scared; he had never been as strong as Remus or James. When he had confronted Peter nearly ten months ago, Sirius had been in pain, tired, confused, scared and bitter. Maybe he was just being nostalgic or maybe he just wanted an escape from the current hellhole he now found himself in. But looking down at his friend's dead body, at his wide, unseeing eyes, at the surprised face, he believed he didn't deserve this.

"Wormtail served me well. He helped me to return to my body, but I was failed. You see, my servant at Hogwarts was supposed to place the Triwizard Cup inside the maze and deliver Harry Potter, but no, he delivered Sirius Black, the man who caused my downfall. The man who escaped from our prison," Voldemort continued in his cold, high voice as he swept up to Sirius. "You see Mr. Black, you helped me return to my body and you will help me win my battle," he said as he ran a long finger down Sirius' cheek.

"Fuck you!" Sirius growled, as he spat in Voldemort's face. "I'll never fucking help you, you fucking monster."

"Now Mr. Black, where are your manners?" Voldemort replied, taking a step back. "Crucio!"

Sirius gritted his teeth as the familiar pain of the torture curse consumed his body. His limbs felt as though they were going to be ripped from his body. The feeling of white-hot knives, stabbing every fibre of his body, threatened to consume him, but he was not going to let Voldemort have the satisfaction of knowing it. No, he had come too far and fought too many battles to let that happen. "Is that the best you can do, you little shit," he spat. "You've fucking lost your touch."

"We'll see," Voldemort sneered back, dropping his arm to his side. "Bella, untie him."

Sirius watched apprehensively as his deranged cousin sauntered towards him with her familiar, over confident swagger. "Bella," he said pleasantly.

"Little cousin," Bellatrix said. She stood on tiptoes and ran her tongue down his face. "How nice to see you again. Frangeretur!"

Sirius bit down hard and clenched his jaw, as he felt a couple of ribs break. "You know, even now, even after all you have done for him, he still does not look at you," Sirius hissed. "You are worthless to him."

Bellatrix leant forward menacingly. "I will end you, cousin. I will make you suffer, like nothing you have ever experienced before!"

"Bella, leave him. I need him to duel. We will find some muggle or something you can 'play' with," Voldemort said in a bored tone. "Now, please untie him and give him his wand."

"Of course my lord," Bellatrix said, bowing low. She ran her wand down Sirius' chest, as a sick smile played upon her lips. "I'm going to enjoy watching you die, little cousin," she whispered in Sirius' ear. "Then the Dark Lord and I will enjoy some time together. Alone."

"I'm sure that will be 'delightful'," Sirius said, wincing as he was roughly thrown to the ground, receiving two sharp kicks for good measure. Another person viciously grabbed his hair and pulled him upright. His wand was slammed forcefully into his hand.

"So, Mr. Black, I have heard you are a skilful dueller. I know we have faced each other in the past but I feel you always got lucky. I never had the chance to properly duel with you," Voldemort said playfully as he twirled his wand between his long fingers. "Do you want to duel with me, Mr. Black?"

"No, you fucking piece of shit. I want to bring you to justice. You need to pay for what you have done!" Sirius bit back.

"Mr. Black, you and I know that will never happen. I have my followers, I will soon take power and then there will be no escape from us. We will rule and the muggles, blood traitors and half-bloods will pay! We will kill them all."

Sirius smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Half-bloods? Isn't this a muggle graveyard? Didn't Peter pull a bone from your father's grave, right here? Doesn't that make you a half-blood?" he taunted. He made a quick side-ways glance to the grave. 'Tom Riddle', he noted. He didn't have time to dwell on the name, before a jet of red light was shot in his direction. He just managed to dive behind a gravestone before it hit him, covering his head as the gravestone shattered around him.

"Come on, come out to play Mr. Black." Voldemort said playfully.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve 'Mr. Riddle'?" Sirius bit back.

"Crucio" Voldemort roared, aiming wildly in Sirius' direction.

Sirius rolled quickly out of the way to another vantage point. "So, Mr. Riddle, how should I address you? Mr. Riddle, or is it 'Tom'?"

"It is Lord Voldemort," Voldemort growled back as he cursed and looked around wildly. "Now are you going to fight like a man, or hide like a child?"

Sirius ducked low behind a statue as he considered his options. He was outnumbered by at least thirty-to-one. His options were limited - duel with Voldemort? This could lead to him killing the bastard, then more than likely being taken out by one of his death eaters. Would that be a case of cutting off the head of the snake, or would someone take his place? Or he could try to flee? He shook his head; this was the best chance of taking out Voldemort in fourteen years. He had to try and take it. Maybe he could stun him and bring him back to Hogwarts, an unlikely and highly improbable outcome, but the best one. "Stupefy," he yelled.

Voldemort narrowly dodged the curse. "Oh, we are afraid of the unforgivables," he sneered. "You are still that small, weak child I remember. Too scared to join my cause."

"No, I was never scared, I just never believed in you. I thought you were a sick bastard, so yes that hasn't changed," Sirius bit back.

"Ha! But you are still hiding behind a statue. You are still a scared child."

"No, you dumb fuck," Sirius mocked. "I would explain, but I doubt you have the mental capacity to understand." He ducked as the statue exploded behind him. He knew it was now or never, he knew he had to stand up and fight. Plan A was never going to work; as much as he wanted Voldemort to stand trial for the crimes he had committed, he knew he was never going to be able to bring him back to justice. Knowing this could well be the last action he ever did, he wanted it to be honourable. He wanted to go down fighting for friends and family. He just hoped someone would find his body so they would get closure. "Stupefy."

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort yelled.

Both the curses met in mid-air and a gold beam grew from the middle, descending to each wand and connecting them. Sirius looked up as his wand appeared to lock onto Voldemort's, as they began to rise from the ground. By Voldemort's expression he was as shocked as Sirius was. Numerous grey, ghostly shapes began to rise from Voldemort's wand. Even if he'd wanted to let go of the wand, it appeared as though the curse, or spell, or whatever it was, refused to allow him to let go. He blinked several times as the nearest shape floated towards him. Peter? He thought, what the hell was going on?

"Sirius," Peter said. "I'm sorry. I was scared, but that doesn't make up for what I did. You were right, you were always right. I should have died rather than follow this creep. I'm sorry for what I did to you."

"Wormy?" Sirius said, his brow frowning in confusion.

The next ghostly shape floated towards him. Reg? He shook his head, what the hell was happening? Why was it happening?

"Sirius," Regulus said.

"Reg?" Sirius replied, still utterly confused.

"Sirius, I am sorry. I never should have followed him. I thought you were just going against mum and dad because you wanted to be difficult, but I know you were right now. You will not be able to kill him now."

"What?!"

"He's created Horcruxes," Regulus exclaimed. "You need to destroy them before you can destroy him."

"I don't understand. What are you talking about? Can he hear us?!" Sirius exclaimed, looking wildly at Voldemort whilst wincing slightly as his forearm began to tense up.

"No, he can't hear us. You have to destroy the Horcruxes in order to destroy him. I don't know how many he created, but I think I have one of them, Salazar Slytherin's locket. I tried to destroy it, but couldn't," Regulus replied.

"You think you have it? What the hell, Reg? What are Horcruxes? How many are there? Reg, help me," Sirius pleaded.

"I don't have answers to your questions brother. You need to go. You need to get back to Hogwarts," Regulus replied. "I am truly sorry, brother; I should have followed your lead."

"Reg, I'm, I, I'm sorry brother, I should have protected you. I should have taken you with me when I ran away."

"You did everything you could, but you need to get out of here. We will shield you from him, but you need to get back to Hogwarts," Regulus demanded.

"But, I don't understand," Sirius said desperately.

"We will block him, but you need to get back to Hogwarts. You need to stop him, you need to destroy the Horcruxes," Regulus pushed.

"You need to undo my mistakes," Wormtail added. "I was weak, you are not."

"Go! You need to go now, brother!"

Sirius took one final look at the two ghostly shapes before him. At the two people he could have saved if he had just tried a little harder. Two people Voldemort had murdered. He knew he couldn't kill Voldemort until he had destroyed all of the Horcruxes, not that he knew what they were. With an almighty effort, he pulled his wand up, severing the connection. He fell to the ground, rolling out of the way of a curse, wincing as his ribs protested. He ran wildly, in a zigzag fashion, as he felt curses and hexes whistle past him. He knew he somehow had to get back to Hogwarts, but how? He dove behind a gravestone, hearing the top of it explode where his head had been only moments ago.

"Leave him, he's mine!" Voldemort yelled, above the confusion and chaos.

Glancing to his right he saw the tri-wizard cup. Why had it taken him so long? If the cup had brought him here, it should take him back. He doubted apparition would work. Voldemort, no doubt, had set up powerful wards, only allowing death eaters or the portkey into the graveyard.

"Accio cup," he yelled, wincing as another piece of the gravestone struck his shoulder. He caught the cup in his left hand as it sailed through the air. The familiar tug at his navel, the world around him began to spin. He heard Voldemort's frantic scream. He was going back, away from the graveyard. He gasped as his chest landed heavily on the cup. His senses dulled, and his vision swam in and out of focus. The sounds around him were muffled. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name and shaking him.

Moody was momentarily at a loss of what to do. He had walked to Dumbledore's office, to find the door slightly ajar. He had frowned, despite Hogwarts having the reputation of the most secure building in the British magical world, asides from perhaps Gringotts, it still concerned him. He doubted Dumbledore would have left it open, he knew for sure Sirius wouldn't. He had found Quirrell in the office. He knew Quirrell was of a nervous disposition, but his behaviour had taken it to another level. He had questioned the man as to Sirius' whereabouts, but the man had denied all knowledge. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Sirius had appeared. Which led him to his current situation.

"Sirius! Sirius!" he said, gently shaking his prodigy's shoulders.

Sirius blinked his eyes several times as he tried to clear his vision, but to no avail. He could just make out a very blurry Quirrell trying to slink out of the office. Using his last remaining strength, he rolled to one side, ignoring the excruciating pain, flung his arm out and yelled, "Stupefy!"

"Merlin, fuck," Moody swore, physically jumping back as he watched Quirrell's body collapse against the wall. "Sirius!" he called out urgently as he gently pulled him into a sitting position. He bit back a gasp when he observed the state of his prodigy. A deep, still bleeding, cut ran down his left arm. His clothes were torn in various places, showing a myriad of other cuts and bruises. His face was pale and bruised, with, worryingly, a thin trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. But what concerned Moody most of all was the severely laboured breathing, taking way more effort than it should do. "Sirius?"

Sirius coughed up some of the coppery tasting blood from his mouth. Internal bleeding, not good, he thought to himself. He guessed it was only a matter of time before his luck finally ran out. "He's a death eater," Sirius said slowly.

"Quirrell?" Moody asked, as he watched Sirius nod.

"The cup was a portkey," Sirius said weakly, as his breathing became increasingly laboured. "It was meant for Harry."

"What?" Moody exclaimed, looking wildly around for some form of help.

"Voldemort's back," Sirius managed, before he slumped to one side, his eyes rolling back and his body growing still.

A/N: So, the original didn't involve Regulus and Sirius was okay at the end of it. Then I reread the scene in GOF, ah, well. Originally, Sirius was going to pick up on something Voldemort said and figure out about the Horcruxes. But then I thought why not use Regulus? In TOFTP, Sirius mentions his brother was an idiot and had gone soft. Not the harsh words he mentioned when he spoke about the rest of his family, which lead me to believe he loved his brother and felt guilt about his death. Well, that was my interpretation anyway. Sirius getting hurt… crap commute and work annoyed me, what can I say?

Thanks for everyone who had reviewed, favorited and followed. The next chapter is already in the works.