AN: Hello all. This is later than normal and the reason for it is basically that this chapter has been a struggle to get right. One of my betas thought it was too much and too tricky to follow and the other said it was fine.
To make a long story short, I got anxious about some things and sent it out to a bunch of people to read and got about a 50/50 split in terms of understanding what was going on.
So a little warning: some of you are probably not going to enjoy the first half of this chapter. But I've put the key points below in case you've struggled to follow Sirius' POV so that you don't miss anything. There's a reason for the way this chapter is written and it's to do with Sirius' time in Azkaban. Hopefully you understand and follow the stylistic choices…and maybe even find it intriguing.
On a cooler note, I commissioned some art for Chapter 12 (this is the names chap). It's a portrayal of Halley facing her boggart and I'm so excited about it. Please check it out if you have a moment because it's honestly so cool! But I cannot figure out how to share it on this site. Anyone know how?
Chapter 25: darkness, my old friend
Sleep escaped him too often. Half-sleeps that were filled with nightmares of James and Lily's death, the smell of decaying flesh, manic, insanity-filled laughter. Taunts and starvation. Pain and despair. Guilt. Hopelessness. Death. His death. Their deaths. Little Halley's cries as he held her in his arms.
When he did drift into sleep, the wind crying through the shack made the nightmares worse.
Azkaban had taught Sirius Black to compartmentalise. Or rather it had forced him to remember all those months learning Occlumency at the hand of his father. But he couldn't control his mind all the time, and in that half-sleep state, memories would leak through.
They started off small. Things he barely remembered morphed into things he couldn't forget.
The ones that creaked and cracked their way into his mind were the painful ones. Those ones, not even Occlumency could keep locked in their boxes. Sometimes - even in his dreams - Sirius Black revelled in the punishment they gave him. Because who would he be if James didn't stare up at him unblinkingly, eyes so glassy?
Who would he be if his best friend didn't sit up - in a motion too smooth to be human - and stare at him with those white-brown eyes. And tell him the truth again and again.
Your fault. Your fault-yourfault yourfaultyourfaultyourfault -
He howled himself awake, bumping against the rackety wood as he stood on his paws. As if he could stop it from happening all over again.
But if he hadn't woken, he wouldn't have seen the figure open the door.
Sirius pushed himself on his hind legs, preparing to run if he needed to. The figure moved into the shack but didn't notice him. Instead he - the Wizard - took out his wand, conjured two chairs and lit the fire.
Sirius couldn't feel the warmth from his hiding spot in the corner of the shack, and he couldn't make out the features of the Wizard. But the draw from the heat made him want to whine. He'd not felt heat in so long, he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. But then the Wizard sat down right in his line of sight, half his face lit by the flames and the other half engulfed in shadow.
The Wizard reeked of power. It was a stench he'd learnt to pick up even before Azkaban. His mother had stunk of it. He'd smell it every time she passed him with his brother at the station. And she made sure to use it as well. On his brother. On the House Elves. On the lesser people. But she liked using it on him the most.
Sirius whined before he could stop himself. There was no movement from the man looking at the fire, so maybe Sirius was lucky. For once.
He didn't want to be in the shack with the Wizard who smelled like his mother. But he had no choice. And he didn't want to remember his mother but that one he had a choice over. So he didn't. Instead, he stayed looking at the Wizard in the room.
He didn't move. He just sat and stared at the fire. But that was dangerous too. Sirius knew what contemplation did to people. Just like he knew what being irrational did. And he couldn't afford irrationality this time. Last time he'd been irrational, twelve Muggles had died.
So he stayed put. Quiet. Still. And so did the Wizard.
Sirius was thankful the man kept so still; it was easier to place all of his attention on what the man might do so long as there were all these possibilities. Things were more secure when people moved. Movement meant action. Dementors moved. Prisoners screamed. He would shift in and out of animal form. Guards attacked for fun.
Stillness kept things as safe as it could be.
Then, at some point, a passageway opened to the side of the shack but no-one stepped through.
"You're late," the Wizard said. His voice was cool and even-toned. It sent a chill from the pads of Sirius' paws to the tips of his ears.
"I'm sorry." The Girl sounded young and tired. Worn out. Like she was out of options. Is there a specific tone for that? Sirius was sure that he'd heard it before somewhere else - somewhere not in the cells of Azkaban.
The Wizard told the Girl about Occlumency. Sirius didn't pay much attention to their conversation.
But then they mentioned Albus Dumbledore.
"Couldn't he just be biding his time?" the Girl asked.
The Wizard shook his head. "Even if he is, that's all the more reason to learn Occlumency and not meet his eyes. Do you think you can manage that?"
The Girl was in Hogwarts, and the Wizard was teaching her how to get around Albus Dumbledore. Sirius Black tried to focus. He needed to focus now, because The Rat was in Hogwarts. Maybe the Girl could get him The Rat.
But they stopped talking about Albus Dumbledore and started talking about Occlumency again.
The Wizard taught her complicated ideas in one night and expected her to understand them. The scene was familiar. It reeked of control. Of his father's lessons. Sirius felt bad for the Girl. Her teacher was cruel, but he wasn't going to stop, and the Girl wanted to be there.
They left soon after.
Sirius thought about how to find the Girl, but it wasn't easy. The castle had more security now, and that ugly kneazle wasn't having any luck getting Pettigrew. And the Dementors were roaming Hogsmeade at night so, even if he tried to get in and around the village to Hogwarts, or he tried to get through a tunnel from the map, Remus would smell him out sooner or later.
But after an indefinite amount of time - most of which Sirius Black spent transformed - the Wizard and the Girl came back.
"You're late. Again," the Wizard said. His tone wasn't cool or even this time. It was sharp and hostile. It sent a chill from the tips of Sirius' ears to his heart. "Do not test my patience any more than you already have."
He was talking to himself. Sirius understood that. Sometimes, all you could do was talk to the walls to keep yourself from going mad.
But then something melted from nothingness into a figure with wild curly hair that reminded him a little bit too much of Bella. She had turned bad.
The motion reminded Sirius of something else too. Another messy-haired figure melting in and out of nothingness, a cloak, and lots of laughter. James had stayed good. It touched on happier memories - and on instinct, he pushed them down. He didn't deserve them. They weren't for someone like him: a coward.
"I'm trying," the Girl said.
The Wizard didn't seem happy with that. He'd not moved from his seat, but Sirius could sense it. "Try harder. Have you been practising?" the wizard asked.
The Girl nodded.
"Show me what you've learnt."
The little girl put the shimmering cloak down - again it stirred up memories that Sirius didn't deserve - and walked towards the second chair. She sat down in it.
He was happy they'd stopped moving.
They were both quiet. The room shifted smells - just a little. The strength of dust and hair and rotting wood and animal shifted into firewood and smoke, tinged with fear. Whose fear? His fear? Her fear? Sirius' fear?
No. Sirius Black wasn't scared. But he wasn't unscared either.
A cry - a gasp - came from the Girl. She lunged forwards into her lap, holding her head in her hand. The dark side of her outline drenched her body as she folded herself in half. She cried out again.
"Stop! I wasn't ready," she moaned.
The Wizard tutted. " That is no fault of mine. Do you think I should sit here waiting for you to create weak shields?"
The Girl panted out her answer. "I just needed more time."
"Who is the boy?"
"Thorfinn Rowle."
"What's he doing with you in the room?"
"Helping."
"I gave you weeks. Even with his help, this is all you can do?" The Wizard waited for the Girl to answer, but she didn't. "Pitiful. Again!"
He'd seen this before. Sirius Black felt bad for the Girl. No-one deserved to have to learn to shield their mind like that. But Sirius wasn't going to stop it. She cried out again. And the smell of sweat joined the other smells in the air.
Then they stopped. The Wizard stood up. "I have half a mind to show you what true pain is, but I don't think that will help. You're far too used to it. So instead, we're going to try something else."
A familiar stick - wand - and a familiar movement registered in front of his eyes. And the next thing he knew, Sirius Black's body was jolting forward without him wanting it to. He yelped - digging his nails into the wood and leaving behind a long continuous woody claw mark.
Two caught in a notch, but the pulling didn't stop. And his nails weren't strong enough to stop it, so they were ripped from the bed.
Hurt hurt hurthurt - his whine was louder. It wasn't a whine anymore either. He was whimpering now. And now he was in front of the Wizard and the Girl. At their feet. Sirius Black bowed his head and looked at his paw. Blood oozed from the gaps where his claws should have been.
Sirius Black stopped in front of the two of them. The Girl looked surprised to see him. And somewhere, something sparked familiar, but it hurt. The Wizard wasn't even looking down at him. Sirius Black made himself small anyway.
"What are you doing?" the Girl asked.
The Wizard moved. He walked around the Girl and put his hand on her shoulder. The Girl tensed as he slowly leaned down and put his mouth near her ear. "Look at it, Halley. Pathetic, whimpering, and licking at its wounds."
The Girl didn't say anything.
"It would take nothing to put it out of its misery, but I don't. Because its life means less than nothing to me. It's not worth the energy it would take to raise my wand." His hands brushed her hair away, tucking it behind her ear.
The Girl twitched. Like Sirius did around his mother.
"You, however, mean quite a bit more."
"What do you want?" she whispered. The Girl looked down at Sirius and he saw the edge of resignation in them. "You have me trapped. You've already won."
"Halley Potter. The sheep and dogs of the world say you felled Lord Voldemort."
The familiar shapes of the words pierced through the memory-echoes of Sirius Black's mind and throbbed at it in time with his pain - PainPainPain. He knew the name - liked James and Lily.
"Why do you care? He was before your time."
The Wizard laughed, full-bellied and with all the amusement of someone in on a joke she hadn't even known had been told. "Voldemort means much more to me than you could ever guess, Potter. But now he's in my way. And while I doubt that you did much of anything to destroy him, you are useful to the sheep. Which means you're useful to me. And assets must be protected. So yes, you will do much better at learning Occlumency or Rowle, and Greengrass and Parkinson, will all feel the brunt of your failure."
"Why would you think they matter to me?" the Girl spat. But even Sirius could hear the desperation at the edges of it.
The Wizard's hand moved from her shoulder. White, large and pale, it moved like a spider until it sprawled out and rested on her neck. He pulled the girl closer to him. "I've seen your mind, Halley Potter, and I know it. You would rather be hurt than feel the guilt of them being hurt for you. You pretend you don't, but we know that's not true. And you hate it."
The Girl clawed at his hand and with a yelp, pushed him away. But the Wizard just laughed again.
"Stop it!" she yelled.
The Wizard pushed his pale fingers through his too-dark hair, fixing it back in place. "I'm giving you the choice, Potter. Sit there and whimper. Lick at your wounds until your nerves are raw from the pain, or control yourself. You have one more chance before I start using your weaknesses against you."
"I need more time," she bit out. Her throat had tightened from fear. Sirius could hear it. This time though, it left him feeling nauseous.
"You have a month and a half. On the 9th of June, we will meet again, and this time you will have learnt your lesson." The Wizard looked at the girl. Cold, thin lips peeled backwards lazily, forming a dangerous smile that promised terrible things if she failed.
The girl nodded. The Wizard left through the door of the shack, and the girl sat there, shivering as adrenaline rushed through her.
Sirius felt the need to comfort her and so he limped towards her, nudging her with his snout and whimpering whatever comfort he could give her. He leaned into her warmth trying to let her know it was ok.
But the girl turned on him slowly, with wide green eyes that held too much fear and anger in them and kicked her foot out.
Sirius felt the tip of her shoes in his ribs before he hit the wall, and the girl - too-green-familiar-eyes-Lily'seyes-HalleyPotter - took the cloak and melted into nothingness once more before a trap door opened and shut and Sirius was left on his own.
PainPainPain-hurt-yourfaultYourFaultYOURfault.
It didn't come all at once as he expected it to, but in a sludge of thoughts and memories instead.
Sirius limped back to his corner. When he got there, he transformed back to his human form and looked at his nails, shaking. The grime-covered fingers were growing unnaturally quickly in size. One had stopped bleeding, but the transformation had caused it to start again.
Before blood started pulsing out, he could see the nail bed. Pink and tender, throbbing and raw. Then the blood started flowing. Not a lot, but enough that when he cradled his hand, he could feel the warmth of it coating his other hand.
Sirius tuned out the pain. He'd had worse than this, and it would heal at some point or another. It wasn't his wand arm - that was all that mattered.
"Meet little Halley, Sirius." Halley.
He knew that name.
And he knew the cloak.
"How did you score an invisibility cloak, James?"
Could it be her?
"Look after her, Hagrid!"
Sirius curled in on himself tighter and began rocking. The Girl - that little girl. That was Halley. She had the invisibility cloak. She had Lily's voice. She had James' features. She looked like them - like the Potters. Like the Blacks. That was Halley.
How much time had passed since he'd been in Azkaban? Why hadn't he paid attention to that? How had he not realised that it had been 12 years - that she was there in Hogwarts all along?
He felt something warm splash on his hand. Another drop followed. He was crying.
Sirius hadn't cried since his third year in Azkaban when he'd still thought there was hope, and he'd been grieving his family dying and feeling guilt over being a coward. But he was crying now. And now Halley was alive. And in danger. And unhappy. And alive. And in danger. And the only thing left.
He couldn't help her on his own.
But what could he do?
20th October 1991
Number 12 Privet Drive was just as innocently unassuming as it had been the first time Albus stood in its presence. This time, however, Albus was less inclined to believe that it was a good thing. How often had evil and corruption hidden under the guise of innocuity?
He knocked on the door. It opened to the face of Vernon Dursley who immediately slammed the door on him, and Albus had a sinking feeling that the things Halley had told him were true and not a childish exaggeration like he had wanted to believe.
His patience was limited now, and with this realisation, Albus decided he wasn't going to be as civil as he'd initially sought to be. Vernon was small enough that Albus had been able to see over his shoulder into the hallway, and so he apparated.
It seemed to take a moment for the household to register that Albus was inside the house instead of still being on the doorstep, but once they noticed, there was shouting and screaming coming from all directions as Vernon and Petunia Dursley looked at him.
"HOW DARE YOU BREAK INTO MY HOUSE!" Vernon Dursley started brandishing his steak knife, while his wife clutched her son to her.
There was very little time to make a choice about how to act, but as soon as Vernon Dursley began advancing towards Albus, the knife outstretched in his hand, and the intent to seriously hurt Albus in his eyes, Albus took action.
He sent a petrificus totalus towards the man. Vernon stiffened up like a board, and his wife screamed out. Albus cast a silencing charm to try and stem the noise. While he didn't want to have to obliviate any Muggles, he would if the need for it arose.
"I would suggest everyone stay very calm, lest the neighbours hear all the ruckus," Albus said. The boy started crying and Petunia looked at him with wide, hate-filled eyes. He'd seen it so many times before. With sorrow, he wondered if this was the look Halley saw on a daily basis.
"What did you do to him? What do you want?!" Petunia gasped out.
Out of the two of them, Albus was sure that Petunia Dursley was going to be the one more likely to answer his questions without too much trouble. At least while her husband was stuck. "I'm going to ask you some questions about Halley, and I would like a truthful answer."
Her eyes tightened up and Petunia sneered. There was still fear etched into her face, so the sneer made it an ugly tight look. "Isn't she at that school ? If she's got herself into trouble then she's yours to deal with till the year's out!"
"I can assure you that Halley is not in any trouble at Hogwarts," he said. "But a conversation occurred between myself and Halley last night that has left me with some unsettling thoughts."
"The brat is lying -"
Albus focused his attention on the woman to the side of him and she shut her mouth. "Somehow, Mrs Dursley, I don't think she is," he said. "Now, I believe I was very clear in my letter when I left her on your doorstep that night that Halley was to be treated as if she was your own. Have you done that?"
"The brat is fed, clothed and given a place to sleep."
"That's not what I asked. Do you treat Halley well?"
"She gets treated how she deserves to be treated."
The tone rang with a thousand unspoken words that called to days when his sister was still alive, and for the first time in a long while, Albus wanted to do to these Muggles what Gellert said they deserved all those years ago. He could almost hear his voice. What would it matter to put down the dogs of the world?
"Why should we treat her like one of us?" Petunia spat. "What good has your lot ever done -"
"She is your niece . She is your blood! " Albus shouted.
The boy whimpered and let out a loud, choking cry that Petunia tried to shush. She was crying in fear now. Red puffy eyes began streaming tears down incredibly pale cheeks. He didn't need to look closely to see that she was shaking. Not trembling, but shaking in place. Her knuckles were bone white as she clutched her still sobbing child to her, and Albus had to remember that these were still people. Regardless of whether they were kind or despicable Muggles, they were humans. They were Halley's family.
They needed to stay alive for her protection.
Albus took a deep breath to collect himself. With a flick of his wand, he moved Vernon Dursley towards his family and placed him down gently beside them. Petunia clutched at her husband and hiccuped a sob out when she felt he was still solid.
He cancelled the spell, and Vernon fell limp, crumpling to the floor for a moment under the momentum he'd been frozen in until he gained control of his body once again. The man looked about ready to explode in anger, but he was keeping himself in check.
"I'm going to give the both of you one last chance. You are to treat Halley fairly and kindly. You are not to abuse her in any way, shape or form. If I hear any differently from her, then the Muggle police will be involved. I believe they do not take kindly to child abuse. Do I make myself clear?
He met each of their eyes. Petunia refused to look at him, but with her head down she gave the smallest of nods. The child squealed and buried his head into his mother's collarbone, though Albus was sure that they would make sure he behaved.
When he looked at Vernon, the man was both furious and humiliated. It was a dangerous combination to have. "Do I make myself clear Mr Dursley?" he asked firmly.
"Crystal."
"Then I bid you an adequate evening."
Albus left them in their chaos and their fear. He wasn't finished yet - there was one more stop left. He made his way towards number 20 Privet Drive.
As Albus reached the front door, it opened and a young woman stepped out, almost bumping into him. She looked distinguished; her blonde hair tied back in a slick ponytail that seemed to be particularly in fashion for the Muggles nowadays, and blazingly curious brown eyes that spoke of frustration and mistrust. He watched her take in his robes, long beard, half-moon glasses and his hat, and the mistrust grew.
"Excuse me," she said. "I didn't see you."
"Not a worry, my dear," Albus said. He stepped to the side and let her pass. In turn, she walked past him, doing her best not to touch his robes. It was a common occurrence amongst Muggles; keeping themselves separate from things they didn't approve of or understand. It was a trait that he felt spoke to how well they were able to survive the years of famine and religious cullings, but it had always worried him. If for nothing else but because of that ability to survive in such turmoil.
Albus watched the young woman walk to the end of Arabella's path, open and close the white gate behind her. Her eyes flashed between him and Arabella for a moment before she turned and walked down the path. Her heels clicking away into the distance. He didn't turn back to face Arabella until he was sure that she had gotten far enough.
"Just in time, Professor Dumbledore," Arabella said. "Come in, come in."
Albus stepped in and was met with the sounds of her kneazles mewling and the smell of her Muggle-bred cats. It was unpleasant, but he pushed through into the front room to where Arabella had already had her pot of tea and cups at the ready.
"I must say, I was quite surprised to get your letter. It's been a while. But it's always nice to see you, Professor." She spoke with levity, enough for him to know that she didn't think anything was out of place.
It took a considerable amount of effort for Albus to reign in the anger he was feeling at all her inane questions, but he took a seat next to a kneazle who seemed incredibly put out by his shifting weight. "Who was the young lady?"
Arabella looked put out. She poured herself some tea, and the smell of loose tea leaves met the other scents, masking them somewhat. "Hannah Baker. She seems to have a bee in her bonnet about young Halley going to Hogwarts."
"Muggle?"
"Squib, actually. Though she's got no idea about it. Her parents raised her completely Muggle. Smart girl but far too nosy."
"What did she want to know?" Albus asked.
Arabella huffed and made to sit in one of her armchairs. She shooed the cat off with one hand and used the other to help herself down onto the seat. "She keeps asking about Halley Potter. She doesn't believe that she's away at boarding school."
"What does she believe?"
"It's preposterous really, but she thinks the Dursleys have shipped her off somewhere menacing."
A heaviness formed at the base of his throat. It was becoming increasingly prevalent that those he'd charged with looking after Halley's best interests were not doing their jobs, and he had no-one to blame but himself. Minerva had warned him that those Muggles were not fit to be her guardians, and those few he'd told about having Arabella watch over her had been hesitant to agree.
Albus had thought it would be simple. Keep Halley Potter in the Muggle world with her family. Have a few people watch over her, and let him know if anything untoward was happening. But no-one had caught it. No-one had suspected the Dursleys of anything. No-one except a young squib who had more sense than those raised in the magical world.
"When I moved you here, what did I charge you with?" Albus asked.
Arabella looked up from him over her teacup with confusion. "Well, with keeping an eye on the girl."
"Correct. And in the ten or so years, at what point did you notice that the Dursleys were abusing her?"
The silence was palpable in the air. It struck a chord of guilt and willful ignorance that was only exacerbated by the owlish way Arabella blinked as she tried to gather her thoughts. And when she spoke next, Albus was disappointed by how obvious it was that she was trying to convince herself that nothing had happened.
"I've never seen anything like that," she said.
"You were moved here, provided all the money you needed to live a comfortable life, and all you were asked to do was watch over the child."
"I did!"
"You did not," he said harshly.
Arabella jerked back. The movement knocked the tea from her glass onto her dress skirt. "I did! The Dursleys are good neighbours - always pleasant. The girl never seemed harmed when I saw her. Quiet, yes, but she didn't seem in any danger."
"Then you didn't look carefully enough!"
Kneazles mewled in distaste and circled their mistress. Arabella scooped one up, placing it as a barrier between her and Albus, though it didn't matter. She had expected him, but not his anger. He was so careful now to keep it in check. Anger had never served him well. But Albus couldn't stop it simmering under his tongue, at his throat, in his mind even though he knew he was just as angry at himself.
"Th - but - but they're just Muggles."
Arabella Figg was not a stupid woman; Albus had chosen her because of the wariness her childhood and life had given her. But at that moment…
"I do not need to remind you what Muggles are capable of when they act on their fear."
She swallowed and looked down, still blinking owlishly. But the hands laced around her cat, stroking its fur were shaking visibly, sometimes getting tangled in its fur. His words had forced their way through her ignorance and had lodged themselves into her mind. He was sure that guilt was fast approaching, and perhaps that would be what was necessary going forwards. But if not…
Albus stood up and kept his eyes locked on her form. The weight of his stare made her bow her head lower in shame. "You will do the job you were given, and you will do it well, Arabella. If you do not, I will cease paying you, turn you out of your home and leave you struggling to deal with the harsh reality of the Muggle and Wizarding world."
Her head shot up, eyes wide and unbelieving. "But I -"
"I believe you heard me clearly. I won't repeat myself again."
AN: Main points in Sirius' POV:
- He escaped Azkaban and found himself in the Shrieking Shack where is plagued by memories of the night James and Lily died and his guilt about it. He sees Halley and Tom meet up twice.
- Tom smells of power and he associates this with his mother. He thinks Tom is dangerous.
- The second time he sees them, Tom threatens Halley and uses Sirius as an example. Sirius loses two nails in the process while Tom uses him as a metaphor for Halley being pathetic.
- Tom leaves, giving Halley until the 9th June to sort out her Occlumency. Sirius - who has heard Halley's name multiple times, seen her use the cloak and notices she looks like people he recognises, goes up to her and tries to comfort her. When she looks at him, her eyes makes him realise it's James and Lily's child. Halley kicks him and leaves.
- Sirius, now realising that he's been in Azkaban for 12 years, is horrified that she's in danger because of Tom and wants to help. In this scenario, he is transferring all his guilt about not saving James and Lily onto protecting Halley.
If anyone is still confused or has any questions, feel free to ask. I'll be updating again the weekend of the 11th Feb. Hope everyone has a good week.
