Merry Christmas Eve lovelies!
I think this chapter kind of speaks for itself, so I don't have much to say on that front. Hopefully you all like it!
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
"It is an honour to join the Dark Lord's coalition, son," Orion Black said quietly, despite the fact that there is no emotion in his voice, and an empty, hollow look in his eyes.
Sirius flinched backwards, all of his instincts screaming for him to get as far from this wretched house as he can.
The air is fraught with ice and something sinister, and Sirius's eyes flick past his parents and his brother—who is shrinking down behind their Mother as much as he can, their eyes meet for a brief moment and Regulus's fear flashed and screamed at him, but then a soft voice from across the room caught his attention.
"Walburga, I thought you told us he was ready?" Theodus Nott asked. The man had electric blue eyes, dark curls, a sharp jaw, he was wiry and tall—he also looked as if this was the last place he wanted to be, and it was if something crucial had been drained from him, and in that moment Sirius understood. Theodus Nott did not want the same thing as the Dark Lord, but that realisation was not going to save Sirius. Nothing was.
Theodus sighed heavily, shaking his head as he turned to leave, but the wix clothed in darkness that had accompanied him remained.
Theodus stood in the doorway of the Drawing Room, and sadly, over his shoulder he said, "next time, the Dark Lord will expect that you are certain if you call upon us again. Let this be a lesson to you."
Theodus Nott left, but the others remained.
Walburga began to scream, robes billowing out behind her as she stalked out of the room, gruffly dragging Regulus behind her.
Orion hesitated, eye turning onto his son and genuine sadness reflected in his grey orbs before he too left.
They all left, and Sirius was trapped in a room with three masked wix, all withdrawing wands and glinting cursed blades from their robes.
Sirius took out his own wand, pressing his lips together in a grim line, "hit me with your best shot, cocksuckers."
"Emergency!"
"We need all available healers now!"
"Get out my way!"
It was a disorienting experience: yelling, white floors, white walls, crimson smearing everywhere.
The three animagi's senses were being overloaded, with the bright lights, and the Healers began to crowd around them—trying to push them out of the way in order to get to Sirius.
The Potter siblings had managed to get Sirius onto a bed—his blood was seeping into the starch white sheets, and the pallor of his skin only seemed to get paler by the second.
"You've done enough now get out of our way," a Healer said: he was a rather thick man, with a square looking mustache, and he was gruffly attempting to shove Draco out of the way.
"Listen you ungrateful little cunts, move so we can do our job!" The man snarled—his face growing red as spittle flew out of his mouth: the Potters were blocking the door, almost acting like a barrier against anyone they thought was going to harm Sirius (they were extremely in edge and their Pack bond was flaring to life, insisting that they protect theirs).
At that particularly lovely comment Hermione and James drew their wands, pointing them directly into the larger man's face—Hermione's eyes were sparking with electricity, her hair was cracking with magic as it floated upwards and swirled around her head as if it had a life of its own, and James's hazel eyes swirled with a inferno, rolling and consuming everything as he glowered at the Healer.
The Healer still had not released his hold on Draco—who had a murderous look scrawled across his face—and had just puffed out his chest as if trying to intimidate them with his immense girth.
"I suggest you get your meaty paws off of him, now," Hermione said calmly, but the underlying threat was made abundantly clear by the ire present in her eyes.
"Little girl, I suggest you step out of the—" The healer didn't get to finish whatever he was going to say, because Draco waved his wand, eyes stone cold and hard, sending the Healer flying backwards—the force wasn't strong enough to knock him out, but it did however, knock him flat on his arse.
Normally James would be amused by such a sight, but instead he swiftly grabbed his siblings by their sleeves and dragged them backwards into Sirius's room—Hermione wasted no time in waving her wand, and began to chant lowly.
Whilst Hermione was busy throwing up impregnable wards, Draco was pulling James by his forearm over to Sirius's bed.
"Follow my lead, and do only what I tell you," Draco instructed, James nodded curtly, grim determination on his face.
"We need to get some blood replenishing potions in him, and you can seal up the smaller wounds, whilst I focus on the larger ones—and when you're finished you can help me...because I'm going to need it," Draco reeled off instructions as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans—grabbing his petite, leather roll up pouch where he kept a small selection of potions in case of emergency.
Draco gracefully rolled it out on the bedside table, revealing the several, delicate phials with various coloured liquids secured within it: Draco's hand panned over them before it landed on the Dittany—with a flick of his wrist he tossed it across the bed at James, who caught it with ease.
Draco grabbed ahold of his blood replenishing potion, and he turned so that he was right in beside Sirius—thankful that they had thought to have Sirius sit up, propping him up with a mountain of pillows.
He dutifully ignored the increased loud noises and outraged protests that were coming from just outside the room.
Hermione was standing in front of the door, having finished her task and her wand was loosely grasped in her hand as she casually scrutinised the Healers—who were now arguing about what action needed to be taken so they could get inside of the room.
Trying to dismantle Hermione's wards had been wildly unsuccessful, and they were arguing rather loudly amongst themselves.
Pack rumbled around in her head as if her very soul were speaking aloud, protect.
On the other side of the room, Draco was grimacing as he examined the gash on Sirius's left forearm—instinctively reaching out to rub at his own forearm. Grateful that James didn't notice the motion as he glanced over at his grey eyed brother.
Draco swallowed as he pointed his wand at Sirius's arm, trying to ascertain exactly what was wrong—determining that whatever had inflicted the damage had been cursed.
With a low curse, his eyes flicked over to the door at Hermione, who whirled around at that exact moment, eyes worriedly scanning Sirius before she hissed, "we're going to have to let at least one of them in at some point." She paused, her nose crinkling in disgust, "definitely not that thick prick though, I don't want him anywhere near Sirius."
"They aren't kicking us out!" Draco hissed back, refocusing on the task at hand.
The room fell into a hushed quiet, the boys working silently, Hermione kept glancing over anxiously at them, desperately wishing to assist, but she knew Draco was better at healing spells, and she understood that he needed his space to work. Plus, she had to make sure that no one could get in and hurt Sirius—the ones responsible for his injuries may come back and try to finish the job.
Hermione tightened her grip on her wand when a familiar face appeared in front of her on the other side of her wards.
"The Aurors are here," Hermione announced coldly, eyes narrowing as she came face-to-face with Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody himself.
There were two other wizards flanking him: a fresh faced man, that could not be a few years older than her, peach fuzz on his chin and cheeks, bright brown eyes, and ruffled blonde hair, and another wizard that she'd once known—Kingsley Shacklebolt.
The dark skinned man—barely, as he too had only just passed into manhood—looked more boyish than ever, with a strong broad nose, and eyebrows that were impeccably groomed. His eyes, however were filled with annoyance and curiosity as he peered at her over Moody's shoulder, his head tilting to the side.
Alastor leaned closer to the wards, so close his nose was almost brushing them, and Hermione almost marvelled at the fact that he had both of his eyes still—she knew that he lost it sometime during the First Wizarding War, but it was still a bit disconcerting to not see his magic eye zipping about frantically.
"Potter, I demand that you take down these bloody wards, this minute!" Moody commanded.
"Oh. We haven't been formally introduced, it's nice to meet you Alastor Moody," Hermione said coolly, but there was a sickly sweet smile on her face.
"Hermione Potter, take down these wards, I won't ask again," Moody said in what she supposed was supposed to be threatening, but the persisting thought on her mind was that they need to protect Sirius. If they weren't here then anyone could get to him. They could get to him.
Hermione cocked her head to the side in a similar manner to Kingsley, "take them down yourself," Hermione responded, throwing up a Muffliato, strolling across the room and heavily falling into the single red armchair that had been shoved into the corner of the room.
She held Moody's steady gaze as he started to bark orders at his two lackeys, and almost missed the fact that Draco was speaking.
"I—I've done all I can to keep him alive…but we're going to need qualified officials in here at some point to finish off the job," Draco said, echoing Hermione's earlier sentiment as he tiredly strode over to her.
Hermione broke away from Moody's intense stare and peered up at Draco—who raised an eyebrow before shrugging, bending down slightly as his hands slipped underneath Hermione and picked her up. Hermione let out a soft yelp as he shifted so that he had taken her place and she was now nestled sideways in his lap.
Hermione rolled her eyes, shifting until she was more comfortable and her arms loosely wrapped around his neck,and she rested her head on her arm, in turn Draco tightly wrapped his own arms around her waist.
By Sirius's bed, James had pulled up one of the chairs and was sitting down beside his best mate, hand firmly holding onto his friend's—which was still warm to the touch, for now at least.
Time fell away, and in frustration the Aurors played their last card, it was their last hope and all they could do was pray that it would work: Moody was quite put out that even the ruddy curse breaker he had sent for hadn't been successful in breaching the young Potter's wards (nor had an onslaught of his finest Aurors that weren't currently out on missions).
Alastor Moody had contacted Dorea and Charlus Potter—who had been out for an early dinner to celebrate their wedding anniversary.
James was the first one to spot their parents outside the wards: Dorea looked a mixture of furious and worried, whilst Charlus's expression was almost unreadable, his brow deeply knitted together.
One of the Healers tried to say something to Dorea, gesturing wildly at the room. Dorea whirled on the Healer with cold fury—James couldn't hear a lick of it, but he knew that if the Healer said even one word more that they were likely to get hexed something nasty.
"Mione, Dray—Mum and Dad are here," James said as he stood up, but he did not relinquish his hold on Sirius's hand.
James's siblings slowly followed his line of sight, and both of them flinched slightly when they saw fire spitting from Dorea's fingertips as she jabbed a finger at the same thick prick that had tried to reprimand them earlier.
Draco lightly squeezed Hermione's hip, and it was only then that either of them moved.
Hermione crawled out of Draco's lap and cautiously approached the door, and with a flick of her wand she removed the Muffliato.
The Potter Matriarch stopped berating the crass man and stepped towards her daughter, the fury instantly melted into a tender expression. "It's okay sweetheart, you're safe now, nothing is going to happen to Sirius," Dorea said softly.
"It was him, Mum! I know it! They tried to—" Hermione's mouth clamped shut, she didn't dare say anything else. She didn't trust everyone on the other side of the door—she did trust Moody and Kingsley for what it was worth. The scent of Sirius's blood still hung thickly in the air—the tangy smell was still smothering her senses, Draco's as well and that was what had them both on edge.
"Let them in, Hermione," Draco whispered into her ear, his voice a soft caress—she hadn't even noticed his presence behind her, one of his hands came to rest on her shoulder.
He raised his head, defiance sparking in his eyes as he said much louder, "she'll take them down as soon as you promise that you won't remove us from the room."
"You aren't family," the same Healer that had manhandled Draco earlier grunted.
Dorea's raven hair whipped to the side as she shot a sharp look over her shoulder, "I dare you to say that again, Tottle."
"Potter—"
"Tottle, that boy is my damn well son, which is what I told your chit of a receptionist downstairs when she tried to stop me."
"Dorea," Moody said gruffly—deciding that perhaps it was time to step in before Dorea hexed the man silly—marching over to stand beside the irate witch.
"Alastor—" Dorea shot the man a sweet smile much like the one her daughter had bestowed upon him earlier, "—my son made an offer, and I think it would be in your best interest to comply. They have been quite gracious in arriving at a compromise that all parties will be satisfied with."
"Fine, they can stay outside the room with the door open," Alastor said, looking sternly at Healer Tottle. The man merely grunted in response.
A heartbeat later Hermione lowered the wards—almost getting knocked out of the way as Healers rushed into the room.
Hermione fell back against Draco who shielded her from the Healers with his own body—when all the Healers were inside, yelling at each other as they got to work, Hermione looked up at Draco and shot him a grateful smile.
She stepped out of Draco's grasp, exiting the room only to throw herself into Charlus's arms.
Dorea swiftly engulfed Draco in a hug, and when James joined them a moment later she drew him in as well.
Then the Potters were left to stand outside the door and wait, wait, wait.