My muse is feeling far more inspired by Secret Keeper now, as well as Darkness, my other fic. I've got three other ideas, but think it's probably best to finish these two before moving onto new fics.
A massive thank you to Ambush99 for her continued support and fantastic betaing skills!
Chapter 37
Somehow he managed to land on the top step, his friend's unconscious body leaning heavily against him. Tapping the door with his wand, he staggered through the door using the wall to support him. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he declared as the dark shadow rushed up to him. With his uttered words the shadow quickly dispersed. "James," he whispered, shaking his unconscious friend. "Fuck," he swore gently when he got no response. Carefully setting him down in the corridor, he quickly checked him over. There was a large, deep gash across his chest, with blood still flowing freely from the wound. Ever since his last encounter with his cousin, and with the impending war, both he and James had taken the time to study the art of healing. During Auror training they had done enough to pass. He guessed at the time they were young and arrogant, believing they would never get hurt. But as the twisting events of time influenced their lives, they knew this wasn't the case. They were human. They were mortal.
Bending down over his friend, he muttered a couple of words. Watching the wound slowly close itself, he sank back onto his heels and breathed a sigh of relief. "What the hell were you doing, James? That curse was meant for me," he whispered to the quiet corridor. He sat there staring at his friend's bloodied and unconscious form for a moment, before the chill in the air pulled him out of his thoughts. Come on Sirius, he told himself, I know you hate this place but what other option did you have? James was going to bleed to death and as hateful and as horrible as this place is, at least it's safe.
"Levicorpus," he muttered at his friend's still form, as he slowly stood. He knew he wouldn't have the strength to carry James upstairs. He was utterly mentally and physically exhausted. He made slow progress upstairs, trying hard not to stumble. Eventually he made it to his room. Whether it had seen months or years of disuse, it didn't seem to matter. He carefully levitated his friend down, so he was leaning against him. "Tergeo," he muttered, flicking his wand at the bed, watching as the dust removed itself. With some difficulty, he hauled James onto the bed. Removing his glasses and wand, he set them on the bedside, before covering him with the duvet. Checking him over one final time, he exhaled slowly. James was fine, passed out, but he was alive and not in any immediate danger.
He rummaged in James' bag for the blood replenishing potion, but all the time he could feel his eyelids growing heavy. He knew his house was probably the safest and most defended house in the whole of wizarding Britain, but he could not help but worry. James was unconscious, and even when he regained consciousness, he would be weak for a while. He had to defend them. Just as James had protected him after they had destroyed the horcrux.
Finally, he sat back on the bed and watched his friend for a moment. The slow rise and fall of his chest. He looked several shades paler than he was normally, but he was alive. He needed to stay awake and in order to do that he needed, "Kreacher," he yelled.
There was a loud pop and a sunken looking creature appeared. Its skin took on a greyish appearance, seemingly fading into the filthy tea towel it wore like a toga. "Oh dear mistress, that stain and disappointment has returned. The one who broke your heart has returned with his nasty blood traitor friend. But Kreacher has to serve the nasty brat, the one who befriends mudbloods and werewolves."
"Shut up," Sirius hissed. "You will not use those words in this house."
"Yes master, of course master," Kreacher muttered. "Foul, blood traitor sits there as bold as brass. Oh mistress, if you could only see what poor Kreacher has to do."
"Yeah, I've been wondering that myself. The place is in a state!"
"Of course master," Kreacher muttered darkly.
"Kreacher, I need a coffee," Sirius demanded, not doing anything to hide the venom from his voice. If the truth be told, he didn't have any issues with house elves. The ones at Hogwarts were always friendly and helpful, always more than happy to give the Marauders any food they wanted. Julie, the Potter's elf had been nothing short of perfect. But then there was Kreacher. He didn't know if it was the elf's attitude, its love for his hateful mother or the painful, hated memories it brought back. He just despised the elf and he knew the feeling was mutual.
The elf returned with a mug of scalding liquid, which Sirius presumed was coffee. It barely resembled any coffee he had ever drunk, but then the elf had never been overly skilled in the cooking department. Grimacing, he took another large swig, wincing as scalding, bitter liquid made its way slowly down his throat. He hated being back in his childhood home. The place held nothing but darkness for him. His family and their obsession with pure blood ideology and the dark arts. His parents and their harsh words, and cruel ways. The lack of food. Being forced to stay in the dark, depressing house, day after day just in case, god forbid, he came in contact with a muggle. But in the middle of all of this was his brother, Reg. Yes, James was his brother in all but blood. James had been the one to save him from the hellholes he had escaped from, whether that be from the foul house or the prison Voldemort had held him in. James had been the one who had sat with him night after night when the nightmares had dragged him from his fitful, disturbed slumber. James had been the one who had reminded him to eat when he wondered what the point was. What had Reg done? He closed his eyes and rubbed his drawn, tired face. There had been a time, before Hogwarts, he had been close to his brother. It had been him and Reg against the world. They had slayed dragons together and gone on wild adventures. They had sat at boring family gatherings trying not to laugh. Then he had been sorted into Gryffindor and Reg into Slytherin, and everything had changed. They grew distant. At times it seemed they hated each other, but he didn't stop caring for his brother. He could never stop loving his brother. He knew he should have tried harder to steer his brother away from taking the mark, but what choice had Reg had? As an impulsive, immature eighteen year old, Sirius had been livid with Reg for taking the mark but, upon reflection, his attitude had shifted. He could escape to Gryffindor, whilst his brother was surrounded by potential death eaters in Slytherin. In the holidays he could escape to James', a fixture that later became permanent, whilst Reg was shut in the darkened hellhole that was their childhood home. But, despite everything, his little brother had turned his back on Voldemort at the cost of his own life. Reg had arguably done more for the war effort than any other single person. When this was all over he would ensure Reg's sacrifice would be recognised and honoured. He drew small comfort from the fact they would be reunited again in death.
James blinked several times. He felt groggy and his head pounded. What the hell had happened? He remembered apparating, then all hell had broken loose. He shifted slightly. It felt soft and comfortable, certainly not the lumpy camping mat he had grown accustomed to. Someone was shifting him, helping him to sit up.
"Here drink this, it'll help."
He grimaced as he drank the bitter, coppery-tasting liquid. But it helped. The grogginess subsided, the pounding lessened. Something was brought towards his eyes, and his vision cleared. "Sirius?"
"No, it's Professor McGonagall. Of course it's me you dingbat!" Sirius joked.
"What?" James started, as he slowly looked around, noting the posters of semi naked Muggle women straddled on motorbikes. "Why are we at your house?"
"Because, because it was the first place I thought of."
"I told you Sirius, I didn't want you to ever go back there," James started, as he pushed back and glared at his friend.
"Oh, I don't know, when you were there bleeding all over the place and we were surrounded by fucking death eaters I got us out of there. I took us to the first place I knew we would be bloody safe. I don't fucking like it here either, but you weren't up to defending yourself. You still aren't!" Sirius yelled, jumping off the bed. He balled up a fist and punched the wall, wincing slightly as his knuckles tore through the plasterboard.
"I just don't like you being here. I don't like what it does to you. What it makes you go through!" James replied, in a slightly softer voice, as he carefully stood, testing his weight.
"Fine Prongs. Next time you're bleeding all over me, next time you're dying in my arms, I'll make sure I find a nice, safe, happy death eater free house," Sirius snapped, as he stormed towards the door. "I briefly thought of your house, but I didn't want to bring fifty death eaters to your village and put everyone in danger!" Without a further word, he stormed out the room.
James sighed and let his head fall into his hands. Sirius had always been volatile, and it was only made worse when he was around or discussing his family. He had known this and he had bloody blown it. Sure he felt like crap, but pushing Sirius on key trigger points was never going to end well. He pushed himself to his feet and followed his irate friend downstairs.
"Padfoot," he said softly, as he reached the kitchen. "Mate, I'm sorry, okay."
"It's fine, James," Sirius said through gritted teeth, as he paced up and down the room.
"Sirius, I, we never stopped looking for you. I'm sorry we never found you, but we never stopped looking for you." He watched his friend stop pacing for a moment and took this as a sign to continue. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard it must have been for you. God Sirius, what you went through, but it was hell for us as well. Not knowing what happened to you. Not knowing if you were alive." James stopped again and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I kept trying to be positive. I kept willing you to be alive but as the years went on, it became harder."
"Prongs, look," Sirius started, his head hanging down, his eyes fixed on a small stain on the floor. He idly wondered what it was and why it hadn't been cleared up.
"You went after Pete because he was our friend. You thought you could help him. Shit mate, if our roles had been reversed, I'd probably have done the same."
"Prongs, I, well," Sirius said quietly, as he stubbed his foot over the stain. He swallowed, and slowly turned to face his friend. "How long did you look for me?"
"Until the 31st October 1994," James replied without hesitation.
Sirius frowned. "Why then?"
"Because that's when you returned. The 31st October 1994 at ten past eight."
"What happened?"
"Sorry mate?"
"After Pete faking his death and me being blamed for it."
James sighed and leant against the dusty table. He absent-mindedly began to trace circles in the grimy surface. "It was tough. I became obsessed. I couldn't think or do anything else."
"Pete's dead and Sirius is gone," Remus said in a hollow voice, barely able to make eye contact with his last remaining friend.
"What?" James stumbled out, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter top. Both shocked at the news and his friend's sudden appearance on that mizzly, wind swept night. The type of night common to the south west of England, when the rain, although fine, seems to get into every layer of clothing you own.
"Voldemort is gone."
"Moony? Moony, I don't understand."
"They think Sirius killed Pete then joined his master."
"What the fuck Moony? Sirius would never kill Pete! He's never used the killing curse even when we've been outnumbered by God knows how many death eaters. And his master?! What the fuck Moony?! Who the hell is 'his master'?" James practically spat.
"Voldemort."
"What?! What the fuck does he need to do?! His supposed family are fucking death eaters but he isn't. He's a highly respected auror. He's one of the best we've got. Hell will freeze over before Sirius Black becomes a death eater. Voldemort will start handing out lollipops to Muggle children before Sirius betrays his friends!" James yelled, smashing the crystal tumbler on the table, barely aware of it shattering, nor feeling the firewhiskey stinging the small cuts.
"Prongs!" Remus growled under his breath. "Listen to me. Voldemort is gone. Sirius disappeared six weeks ago."
"What?" James managed, staring open mouthed at his friend. "What? How? Pete?"
"Sit."
"No fucking way am I sitting! You just told me a friend was murdered six weeks ago and my brother has been missing for six weeks. Do you understand anything about missing persons cases?! The first forty eight hours is critical! But fuck, let's wait, fuck, whatever hours is six weeks before we fucking bloody look for Padfoot," James exploded, kicking the small, oak coffee table to one side. "Do you know what the hell they could have done to him in that time?!"
Remus grabbed James roughly and threw him onto the sofa, pinning him there. "I know Padfoot has fucked up in the past but that was when he was a scared sixteen year old. Do you think I think he did those things?"
"I don't know Moony, do you?" James snapped back. "How the hell did you get here?"
"Dumbledore gave me the address," Remus said quietly.
"Yes, and that address was only charmed to appear if Voldemort fell from power. Did you try and contact us before?" James managed, his voice tight and barely under control.
"Yes, but I couldn't," Remus replied in a quiet voice. "The fidelius charm!"
"Do you know who our Secret Keeper was?"
"Dumbledore?"
"No," James said biting back a bitter laugh. "Sirius was, Sirius is our Secret Keeper. The fidelius charm is still in place which means Sirius protected us at all costs, but he's still alive. If Voldemort has gone, the death eaters are going to be pretty pissed off and who are they going to take it out on?"
"Sirius," Remus said in a near whisper. "Sorry, I just thought…"
"He was the spy?" James offered, anger still dripping from each word.
"Yeah," Remus replied quietly.
"Funny, Sirius thought it could be you," James replied with slightly raised eyebrows. "Why did you think it was Padfoot?"
"Pete."
James nodded. "That's what Padfoot said. He played us, the fucking rat played us. He was nervous and twitchy." James sighed at Remus' raised eyebrows before quickly adding, "Okay, more than normal, but I thought it was just Pete being Pete. He never did well under pressure."
"Fine, but Prongs, Wormy? Are you serious? They want to posthumously award him the Order of Merlin, First Class."
James found himself frowning again, his temper barely under control. "For what?"
"Trying to stop Sirius."
"Stop Sirius from doing what?"
"Selling you to Voldemort!"
"Ha!" James laughed. It was caught short by Remus' look. "You can't be serious! Sirius would never betray us. He would die before he did."
"It looks like Sirius went to meet Pete in Guilford."
"I don't understand, what the hell were they doing there?"
"I have no idea," Remus replied calmly, still eyeing his friend with concern.
"Did they have a funeral for Pete?" James asked, rubbing his face as the gravity of the situation began to sink in.
"Yeah, well with what was left of him."
"Left of him?" James replied in a shaky voice, as he stood, staring at Remus in disbelief.
"All the hit wizards found was a finger, some blood and his robes," Remus informed him.
"What? What the hell happened?"
"There was an explosion."
"And Sirius?"
"His wand."
"Okay, wait one second. Pete's wand was nowhere to be found but Sirius' was. If Sirius was a dark wizard as the stupid gits think he is, why didn't he take his wand? The thing that could link him to any crime he supposedly committed. Wait, please tell me they have checked his wand?" James said, as he stopped pacing for a moment.
Remus shook his head. "As far as I am aware they haven't, but I would be the last to know."
James sighed and carefully picked up a photo. He smiled at it fondly for a moment. It was a photo of the Marauders in happier, more peaceful times. A time when the worst they had to worry about was getting in an essay and passing a test. Although in reality it hadn't been that simple, at least it hadn't been simple for his friends, Sirius and Remus. He grabbed his coat and started towards the door.
"Mate, where are you going?"
"I don't know. The ministry, or somewhere," James said in an unsure voice.
"James, stop. Think about it for a second. You at the very least need to tell Lily and your parents. What are you going to tell them?" Remus pushed.
"I don't know but I have to help him. He's out there, all alone and they are hurting him. I need to help him. He's protected me. He's protected my family, I now need to help him," James said desperately.
Remus nodded. "I'll help you. The full moon was a couple of days ago, so we've got a month."
"Shit Moony, I-"
Remus waved his hand dismissively. "Mate, you had a lot on your plate, we all have."
"Sorry Moony, it's just-"
"Sirius is your brother in all but blood. I get it. He's my friend as well. I don't know what happened, but we need to find him. I will help you."
"I left the following day, I think it was 15th December. Moony forced me to return for Christmas, but it just didn't feel right. Celebrating Christmas when you were missing. Shit, when we started looking for you people were celebrating Voldemort's downfall. I just felt sick."
"Believe me it wasn't much better for me," Sirius said quietly, as he resumed stubbing his foot over the stain.
"Shit, Sirius I didn't mean to imply…"
"It's fine, Prongs," Sirius said dismissively. "I need to pop out and get some food."
"Padfoot?"
"We need food, Prongs," Sirius said, grabbing his jacket. "You stay here."
"No, wait Padfoot!"
"Stay here," Sirius said dangerous, as he gently pushed James onto the sofa. "And drink this," he finished, thrusting a goblet of blood replenishing potion into his friend's hands.
"Sirius!"
"Don't make me curse you! Just stay here, I won't be long."
James sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He knew, in his current state, he would do more harm than good following Sirius, but he couldn't help but worry.
