Chapter 17: Sirius Black

"So what's your story?" Sirius asked as they made their way towards the dungeons.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "I don't have a story."

"Everybody has a story," Sirius contradicted him. "What're your parents like?"

"They're dead," Harry muttered. "I was raised by my aunt and uncle." Harry paused and when Sirius didn't say anything he decided to continue. "They have a son – my cousin Dudley. They love him and hate me. My parents were from the poor part of the district and they're from the wealthier area. They only took me in because it would have looked bad if they didn't. Me being in the Games is probably like a dream come true for them."

"Sorry mate," Sirius said. "That's rough."

"What about your parents?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I lost track of them years ago," Sirius replied.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Sirius sighed. Harry sensed that he as preparing to reveal his own story, so he stayed quiet until Sirius began to talk again.

"Last time I saw them, I was fourteen," Sirius said quietly. "Me and my best mate were on our way to the beach to surf, you know? We took a shortcut through an alley we don't usually go through and there they were – Careers."

"What do you mean Careers?" Harry asked.

"Not actual Careers," Sirius amended. "We weren't in the Games or anything. But these guys had been training for years, getting ready to volunteer and join the Career pack. You just knew that's where they were headed. Anyway, they were throwing spears around, trying to hit different targets. Well I guess one of them thought we'd make great targets and they started shooting spears at us.

"We dropped our boards and ran for it. I got away alright, but my mate didn't. When I doubled back for him, he was on the ground with a spear sticking out of his back. One of the guys was freaking out, saying they weren't really aiming for us, just wanted to scare us, but he'd missed and hit him. I still don't know if I believe him. Anyway, they panicked and ran. When the peacekeepers found me, they arrested me on the spot. I wasn't from the most well-off family and I'm sure the Peacekeepers had just been looking for a way to punish my parents. They wouldn't listen to me when I said I was innocent. I didn't even get a trial or anything."

"That's so unfair," Harry said.

"You want to tell me anything the Capitol's ever done is fair?" Sirius challenged. "Anyway, I was still a minor, so they couldn't ship me off to the Capitol and make me an Avox yet – though they told me that was my destiny as soon as I turned eighteen. There's a place in the bottom of the justice building where they keep minor prisoners. It's almost never used, since so few crimes are punished so severely, and it's so rare that a minor pull off a crime that serious. My parents never visited. Or at least, if they tried they weren't allowed down. I was only let out four times in all that time – once a year on the day of the Reaping. Apparently being a prisoner destined to become an Avox doesn't excuse you from the Games."

"So that's why you volunteered?" Harry asked.

"If I win the Games, I'm free. They can't turn a victor into an Avox, the Capitol citizens wouldn't allow it. And if I die, then at least I die on my own terms. I refuse to live a life subservient to the people of the Capitol," Sirius said.

"And that's why you hate Careers so much?" Harry asked. "Because of what they did?"

"People shouldn't be able to get away with things just because they're bigger or stronger or richer than other people," Sirius said. "And other people shouldn't be punished for their mistakes."

"What happened to the guy that killed your mate?" Harry asked.

"He volunteered in that year's Games," Sirius said simply. "He didn't make it."

By then they'd arrived at the stairs leading down into the dungeon, so their conversation had to come to an end. A canon sounded and Harry and Sirius looked at each other nervously, hoping the canon wasn't foreshadowing of their own soon-to-be fates.

"Ready?" Sirius whispered to Harry as they stood at the top of the steps.

"Ready," Harry confirmed.

Sirius led them down into the dungeons and they took the now familiar path to the Careers' hideout. Praying that there weren't more than two Careers inside, they creeped up to the door and peered through the space between the door and the wall.

Inside, the body of the boy from district eleven lay lifeless at Pettigrew's feet and the girl from district one – Charity, Harry recalled – paced around frantically.

"Why didn't they tell us where they were going?" she asked Peter. "They have you kill this guy and then they just take off? What's going on?"

"Perfect," Sirius whispered to Harry. "It's just the two of them."

With a nod from Harry to indicate that he was ready, Sirius threw the door open and barrelled into the room, Harry following from behind to cover him in case someone tried to ambush them while they weren't looking.

With a squeal of fear, Peter ran and hid in what appeared to be a closet of some sort. Sirius wasted no time in attacking Charity, running at her with his knife and stabbing her in the stomach. She slumped to the ground, clutching at her wound, her eyes wide in surprise and Sirius headed for the closet to finish Peter off, when suddenly the other Careers came running in.

Harry panicked. He'd thought he was ready for this, but clearly he wasn't. His hand shook and he couldn't bring himself to fight anyone. There was a door to the side, slightly ajar. Hoping that Sirius wouldn't be mad at him, he slipped inside before the Careers noticed him.

"Harry?" Sirius cried, turning around and finding himself totally outnumbered. He cast his eyes around the room, but there was nobody to help him. Smiling evilly, Bellatrix grabbed a nearby spear and threw it at Sirius. Harry watched from his hidden room as Sirius just stood there, not even bothering to try and jump out of the way. The spear sailed through the air and embedded itself right in Sirius' chest. He remained upright for a few seconds, blood spurting from the wound, and then his eyes fluttered closed and he fell over. A canon sounded and Harry had to cover his mouth to keep from retching.

"Severus!" a strangled voice cried from the ground. Harry frowned for a moment and realized that a canon had never sounded for Charity – Sirius hadn't killed her.

"Charity?" the boy from one – Severus – said, approaching her.

"Severus, please," she moaned.

Emotionlessly, Severus took a knife and plunged it into her heart, killing her instantly. Another canon sounded.

"Well now that that's taken care of," Riddle said, almost sounding bored. "We need to figure out where we're going from here."

"There's only three tributes left out there besides the four of us," Bellatrix informed him. "We need to cut our number down."

She and Riddle looked back and forth between Severus and Peter, who had emerged from the cupboard.

"Surely you don't mean killing one of us?" Severus gasped.

"We've been so faithful!" Peter squeaked.

"Peter could still prove useful," Riddle pointed out, talking to Bellatrix more than the other two.

"I agree," Bellatrix replied. "He's already proven to be a very useful spy."

"I apologize Severus," Riddle said, taking the sword that Bellatrix handed him and walking towards him. "You've been very loyal to us, but I cannot win unless all tributes are dead. Unfortunately, that includes you."

Harry watched in rapt attention as Riddle swung his sword at Severus. At the last minute, Severus ducked and the sword missed him, embedding itself in the shelf next to him. Riddle cried out angrily and while he tried to pull the sword from the shelf, Severus ran out of the room.

Finally, Riddle pulled the sword free and roaring in anger, he ran after Severus, Bellatrix and Peter chasing after him. Shaking, Harry crumpled to the floor. He pulled his knees towards his chest and hugged them as he tried to un-see what he'd just seen.

Sirius was dead. Harry could scarcely believe it. Somehow, it had seemed to Harry that Sirius was going to win the Games. He was so strong and so careful about everything – and he had no problem killing people, unlike Harry. Harry'd never imagined that Sirius would just let himself be killed like that. Could it have been Harry's fault? He'd promised to fight with Sirius, and then he'd run and hid. Harry felt sick to his stomach as he realized that Sirius had died because he'd refused to fight with him.

After what seemed like a very long time, Harry picked himself up, realizing that if he stayed here any longer, the Careers would return and probably find him. The only way out of the tiny room – more of a storage room than anything – he was in was back through the main room. As he passed through, he avoided looking at Sirius' body, instead looking around at the rest of the room. He noticed in the corner, there was a large cauldron-type pot sitting over a flame, something purple bubbling inside. This must be the poison they were dipping their weapons in, Harry realized.

Feeling queasy at the though of more death, he hurried out of the room only to literally run face-first into someone, knocking both him and the other tribute to the ground.

Harry reached for his knife in fear that the Careers were already back and scrambled to his feet.

"Please!" the tribute on the ground cried. "Please don't kill me!"

"Fred?" Harry gasped in surprise.

"Harry?" Fred gasped, equally surprised. "You're with the Careers?"

"No," Harry said. "I was hiding from them. They're gone right now, so I was getting out before they came back."

"Oh, I was hoping to attack them while they were sleeping," Fred said, getting to his feet.

"I don't think they ever sleep," Harry said. "They just prowl around and kill twenty-four hours a day."

"How did you end up down here?" Fred asked.

"I was with Sirius," Harry explained. "We had planned an attack on the Careers, but I panicked and they ended up killing him. It's my fault he's dead."

"It's not your fault he's dead," Fred contradicted him. "These are the Hunger Games. People have to die. The odds were he would have died some other way, even if you hadn't been involved."

"I guess so," Harry allowed.

"So uh…" Fred said, looking down and gesturing to Harry's knife. "You going to get it over with and kill me, or what?"

"Where's your weapon?" Harry asked. If Fred had been planning to attack the Careers, he must've had a weapon.

"Still in my bag," Fred admitted. "Bad planning on my part. Shouldn't have waited to get here to get it out."

"Probably not," Harry agreed. He lowered his knife, not wanting to kill Fred. "Listen, since the Careers aren't here right now, you're going to have to try again another time," he said.

"I guess so," Fred nodded.

"There's still three of them at least," Harry said. "Four really, but they just turned on the boy from one, so they'll probably kill him soon. Three against one isn't that great odds."

"That's true," Fred admitted.

"You want an ally?" Harry asked. "At least until the Careers are taken down?"

It was dangerous to be making alliances at this point in the game, with so few tributes left. But Harry found that he didn't want to be alone. If he was going to die, he wanted to die with someone fighting alongside him.

"Alright," Fred agreed. "You got yourself an ally."