Summary:

Riddle, Bellatrix and his gang close in...

Notes:

This is for blickScondiblick (or myloveluna on tumblr) - Happy Birthday and sorry this is a day late! You are amazing and so generous and kind and you should all read her Jily fics immediately and follow her! Hope you had a wonderful Birthday

PS I know it may not seem like it, but I swear I was sober writing this... I just went a bit off piste (*wtf Mia, wtf*?)

Chapter 11: Dive

"Right," said Lily, as they reached the hospital reception area. "We'll go in my car, it's only a five to ten-minute drive up to the Garda Station. Pettigrew, what are you doing?"

Peter's face jerked up, as he pocketed his mobile quickly.

"Er, nothing much, just…" he stammered.

"What did you just do?" asked Lily, whipping out her own phone. "I swear, if you just called those bastards to-"

She felt cold metal against the small of her back.

"This is a gun, Dr Evans," she heard a cold voice whisper. "Lucky we happened to be in the vicinity on other business. Another gun is pointing at Dr. Pettigrew. You either do as you're told, or both of you die, and same goes for your pathetic little boyfriend. Understood?"

Lily's head spun. She could scream, create a scene, try to fight? But James. They could hurt James.

"Understood," she said sullenly, trying to get a good look at the woman behind her.

She caught a flash of black hair and sunglasses.

"Move," she told Lily, jabbing the metal into her back.

"Where to?" asked Lily, scowling at Pettigrew.

She was stupidly delighted at how terrified he seemed. The bastard.

"Pathology department," came the reply.

Lily began walking slowly.

…..

Running. Freedom. No equipment needed. Just him and the hard ground. The cool night air felt of damp growth. Springtime arriving. He thought he smelled Lily of the Valley.

Lily.

His steady rhythm faltered.

He was utterly sure he had done the right thing. But that didn't stop him feeling awful about it. The only thing that was keeping him sane was this run. This two-hour run every day. He had given up trying to figure out who was behind this. None of it made sense. He didn't want to think how he was going to cope if he ended up in jail. Not if, when.

His phone buzzed and he slowed down, jogging to a stop. Glancing at his notifications, he saw a message from Pince. Interesting. As his finger hovered prior to opening the attachment, he heard a swift movement behind him. Even as he turned, he felt a jab to his back, his muscles seized uncontrollably, his phone dropped out of his hand and he fell to the ground.

…..

"What the fuck, Sirius?" Remus said to himself angrily.

He felt uneasy. Scared. Pathetically scared.

"Shit!"

Remus was seated on the edge of the dining room chair, staring blankly at his phone. No answer from James, Lily or Peter. And none from Sirius. He couldn't stand it. He scrolled through his contacts and rang the number.

"Hello?" Minerva Mc Gonagall's voice crackled at the end of the line.

"Hello Professor, it's Remus Lupin here. Sorry to bother you…" he stopped short.

"Yes?" Mc Gonagall sounded anxious. "Is everything alright, Remus?"

"I don't know, Professor. I don't think so."

"Explain yourself," she said urgently.

It sounded so stupid.

"This is really stupid, but…"

…

"Where are we going?" Sirius asked.

He sounded bored.

"If you must know, we're going into the Pathology department. It's being redeveloped at the moment. Builders in. New autopsy room. But tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day, so nobody will be here," said Rosier.

He could hear the smile on Rosier's face.

"Never liked Pathology," said Sirius, sighing. "All those slides with pink and purple blobs that looked the same to me. Deathly dull."

Rosier pushed him forwards.

"Hurry up, Black," he hissed threateningly. "You won't be bored for much longer!"

"I don't know, if I have to continue listening to you, I might fall asleep," said Sirius, stifling a loud yawn.

Rosier grabbed his arm and pulled him in through the double doors and down the dark corridor.

It smelled of formaldehyde. The chemical used to preserve bodies, to stop bodies from decomposing. Sirius' mouth went dry. He steadied his nerve.

"There's no need to manhandle me, I'm coming willingly. By the way, looking at you isn't any better, Rosier," scoffed Sirius. "Your dress sense is hideous. Does you mother still pick out your clothes?"

He laughed when Rosier's face took on a darker hue. She obviously did.

"Shut up," said Snape, who was walking behind him. "You talk too much."

"You exist…" retorted Sirius, giving Snape a withering look.

"Fuck's sake!" muttered Rosier, barging through another corridor and into the blocked off section marked Pathology Department. "Can't wait for Riddle to get rid of this fellow, he's insufferable."

"Aw, how kind," said Sirius beaming at him. "Insufferable is my best mood. Ask my mother."

"Get inside!" hissed Snape, with a shove that sent Sirius straight through the heavy door and into the lab.

Sirius dropped the umbrella and it bounced and lay unnoticed beside the armchair.

"Ah, Dr. Black, pleased to meet you again."

He looked up and saw Tom Riddle, a thin smile on his face, occupying the only (and rather incongruous) armchair in the room. His cousin Bellatrix, looking the spitting image of his mother, stood behind him, a gloating, maniacal gleam in her eyes.

"Tom," he winced dramatically, barely inclining his head. "Frightfully sorry to have to point this out, but that's a very middle class greeting, old chap, I wouldn't use it again if I were you. We never use that phrase, it's how do you do. For future reference."

His tone dripped with condescension, and he watched as Bellatrix's features contorted in rage.

"Relax, Coz, he was always trying to fit into aristocratic circles and never succeeded. Mamma and Papa used laugh about it behind his back!" he snorted.

He was positively enjoying himself now.

"They never dared!" Bellatrix screamed, waving a loaded gun in his direction. "Tom Riddle was, is, a genius and they were PROUD to know him! Proud to be associated with him!"

"No doubt proud of the dosh he kept sending their way, bankrolling Mamma's visits to the Plastic Surgeons and Papa's gambling addiction," Sirius sneered. "But he was never one of us."

Behind him he heard Snape inhale sharply.

"His mother was distantly related to the Queen!" shrieked Bellatrix, still pointing her gun at Sirius.

"German, was she?" laughed Sirius. "Whatever, most of us are not so distantly related at this stage. She was penniless, but his father was an immigrant from Russia who made a fortune trading on the stock-market. Refused to acknowledge her when she became pregnant."

Sirius was regarding Bellatrix fearlessly, and getting great joy out of the utter terror that lit her features as he uttered these words.

"Rather odd that he's so hell-bent on getting rid of foreigners In Britain, when he's half foreign himself?"

He didn't give a flying fuck about this bullshit, in fact he had constantly fought with his parents about these kinds of matters, but he knew for a fact that Riddle was a racist and a snob.

He was right. Riddle was angry. His face twisted grotesquely as he tried to hold his features in a neutral expression.

"Bring in the spares," he said tersely, turning to Rosier who bent forwards obsequiously as he left the room.

"Taken to making your hence men bow before you, have you Tom?" said Sirius in a pleasant tone of voice. "Slightly over the top, what? I think you may have watched a few too many Bond movies."

He could tell Riddle was struggling to find an adequate retort and he burst out laughing.

"Your sense of humour was never your forte, was it, Darling?" he said, unable to resist smirking at Riddle.

The door swung open once more and a white looking Lily Evans and Peter Pettigrew stumbled forwards - Rosier, Avery and a large man wearing a bulletproof vest behind them. He was armed. Sirius stared at his friends. They looked frozen, their lips blue, their bodies shaking visibly. Lily gave him a tiny nod and a small smile.

Fuck. He really hadn't expected that. This messed up his plan enormously.

His plan had been simple yet elegant. Record as much incriminating information as possible about Riddle and his entourage on the Black family umbrella (aka sophisticated recording equipment, and more; probably worth about £100,000. Nobody seemed to have missed it when Reg left it for him in the Potter's house the day he disappeared). Then drive them mad (his special talent), get shot in the head to shut him up, and die a relatively painless death. Or switch to plan B and possibly try to utilise the umbrella's other secret weapon. While simultaneously saving his brother's life and doing something good. For a change. For once in his entire bloody futile life. Bringing down the people who had killed his baby brother Reg.

Remus would understand. Remus deserved better anyway. Remus was going to end up with some dashingly handsome, fucking well-balanced individual and thinking about that nearly killed him, but Remus had always been out of his league. In the long run, he would have no doubt gotten tired of his endless stupidity and emotional baggage and moved on. And besides, he couldn't let himself think of Remus, or he would fall apart.

Meanwhile, the umbrella was still recording, transferring the data to his icloud account and he needed to think fast.

"Evans and Pettigrew - what a lovely College reunion," said Sirius, doing an admirable job of keeping his voice steady. "Who's that beside Rosier? Avery? Good Lord, man, I hardly recognised you! You've aged terribly, poor sod. Baldness doesn't suit you, I'm afraid. Too much anabolic steroid use?"

Lily snorted and Peter looked at him as though he were bonkers and shook his head in terror.

"Problem, Pettigrew?" snapped Sirius.

"He does have a bit of a problem, actually," said Avery, looking at Sirius and sniffing. "It appears he told this Paddy** here about what we'd been up to. Can't saw we allow that sort of carry on in our organisation."

"I knew you were involved in this, you little shit!" said Sirius, lunging towards Peter in rage.

"Shut up!" said Bellatrix, motioning to the heavy-set armed man.

The man stepped forward and the side of his gun smashed into Sirius' face.

He fell to the floor, his ear ringing as the room went in and out of focus. The blackness receded after some time and he felt blood pouring down his temple.

"Sirius!" said Lily, stepping forwards.

"Get back here, you bitch!" said Rosier, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her backwards.

"I'm fine, Evans, don't mind her," said Sirius, his vision blurring. "My cousin was always a bit temperamental. Prone to pouting and tantruming if she doesn't get her own way. That's why she has so many lines around her lips. Ages her terribly. She's forty but looks at least-"

"I'm eight years older than you, you bastard!" shouted Bellatrix, enraged. "I'm not even forty!"

"Of course you aren't," said Sirius, standing up gingerly and rolling his eyes at Lily, perfectly aware of the fact that she was correct. "There, there, Trixie, what age will we agree you are, for the purposes of this conversation?"

He knew he was asking for trouble, but it was worth it. Seeing the bastards seething instead of just finishing them all off. And he needed time to think. How the fuck was he going to get Lily out of this alive?

Tom Riddle seemed to be thinking something similar.

"These two are most inconvenient," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I haven't decided how to dispose of you yet, Pettigrew. I'm most displeased with you."

Peter whimpered audibly.

"Sir, I immediately rectified the situation," he whispered, unable to look Riddle in the eye. "Nobody else knows anything-"

"No thanks to you," Riddle coldly interrupted. "Clearly you both need to die, I just haven't decided how. It will come to me. I'm rather creative when it comes to planning a murder. Or two?"

He turned to Bellatrix who laughed immediately.

"Ugh! You're such a bloody…" commented Sirius, looking disgusted.

"A sycophant?" added Lily, who was regarding Bellatrix with contempt.

"Precisely!" said Sirius, flashing her a smile, despite the pain in his jaw.

"If you don't shut up for one damned minute, I will personally finish you!" said Riddle, losing his composure and glaring at Sirius. "Bring in the other bastard!"

Sirius' blood ran cold. Fuck Bellatrix. He looked at her and saw he lips curl triumphantly. He had been a complete fool. He turned towards the door and steeled himself. This time when the double doors burst open, it was James who landed on the floor, in handcuffs, another Heavy now standing behind him, wordlessly tucking a gun into his side. Probably not locals, Sirius surmised. Most likely Russian Mafia. Or whatever Riddle's men called themselves.

"Always so clumsy," he said, sighing heavily. "Do try and be a bit more careful, Prongs."

He bent down to give James a hand up.

"You don't look like you've been particularly careful yourself, Pads," James commented dryly, raising his right eyebrow marginally.

Sirius shook his head. Unspoken words passed between them, much as they had done when they were constantly in trouble at school, and in front of the Principal. Over their years in boarding school, they had developed their own special code, based on 1920s slang. Their eyes locked and reached agreement.

"Fuzz*?" asked Sirius, pointing vaguely in James' direction.

"Nah," said James, shaking his head regretfully, as he scratched his stubble. "Er, was thinking of growing a beard but doesn't suit me."

"Thought as much. By the way, we have guests, Prongs," Sirius added, glancing in the direction of Lily and Peter.

James' face fell and he turned white, staring at her in horror.

"I know, awful pair, can't stand those two!" said Sirius, squeezing his arm tightly.

"Fuck!" said James, recovering rapidly, but unable to keep his eyes away from Lily. "What are they doing here? I thought we had seen the last of Evans. That bitch is friends with that fucker Snape. Broke up with me, hates me now. And Pettigrew, frankly you can go fuck yourself. I've no idea how you got involved but if I get out of here, I swear to God, you're so dead!"

Snape looked pleased. He had been horrified when he found out about Lily being captured, and he had no idea what to do to save her, if possible. And the fact that she had called off her liaison with Potter was music to his ears. Peter shifted uncomfortably and stepped back.

"For crying out loud," said Rosier looking at Pettigrew. "Are you completely idiotic? He's handcuffed and surrounded by armed, trained men!"

"He's just a massive coward," said Sirius breezily. "And a double-crossing wanker. You can keep him."

"Oh, he's all yours!" agreed James, winking at Peter cheerfully.

He had no idea what exactly Peter had done, or if Sirius was playing a ruse. He stole a quick look at Lily. She was looking confused, scanning him anxiously, her eyes resting on the lump over his forehead and cheekbone and on his burst lip, where he had hit the ground. And on his handcuffs.

"So, the decision about what to do with these two," said Avery, motioning towards Lily and Peter.

"Inconvenient," said Riddle, looking annoyed. "I already know what to do with the original targets. It will look like someone thought Potter was going to make a deal with the authorities, he gets killed by Black, and then Black himself gets shot, presumably when someone finds out he was in fact the real rat. We'll make sure to send incriminating texts and that Black has the appropriate residue on his hands."

"Absolutely fabulous! I adore your plan," said Bellatrix eagerly, clapping her hands together.

"Where do we dispose of the bodies?" asked Snape.

"We don't. We leave them here. I have everything ready. Even two autopsy bags. We'll start the whole process for them, I think? After all, the Coroner will want a forensic autopsy. They'll both be clearly labelled as death by unnatural causes?" Riddle joked, his laughter eerie in the echoing space. "You'll help out the poor Pathologist, won't you, Bella?"

He smiled proudly at his star pupil.

"Oh yes, I shall, on both bodies!" Bellatrix grinned at Sirius, as he tried not to shudder. "I've been practising the Y-shaped incisions that run down the front of the chest, meeting at the lower point of the breastbone. Then I'll have to use the shears to open up the chest cavity and-"

Lily made a distressed noise and Bellatrix laughed uproariously.

"You really should consider setting up your own fucking drama school, Trixie," sighed Sirius, staring back at his cousin. "Although I'm sorry to say that your tone is excessively simpering? It jars with the mood you're trying to create here. Sorry not sorry."

"Lol, it really is quite cringe, Love," said James, grimacing as though in sympathy with her. "It's like you were aiming for a horror film and, well, ended up with a musical?"

Bellatrix looked at him, momentarily dumbstruck with horror.

"You know, I might start your autopsy while you're still alive, cousin!" she spat out eventually, staring at Sirius with real hatred.

"And you, pathetic do-gooder," she continued, turning to James. "We might knee cap you, or even give you a six-pack*** before we shoot you dead. Make it look like the Real IRA was involved?"

Tom Riddle nodded approvingly.

"Excellent suggestions!" he said, smiling faintly. "Any bright idea what to do with our two spares?"

"Well," she said, deep in thought. "We could always leave them in the walk-in freezer where we were holding them earlier? It should still take over thirty-six hours for them to be found, by which stage they'll be well dead?"

James felt his chest constrict with fear as he looked at Lily. She was looking back at him, terrified for his safety. He wished he could talk to her, even just to say goodbye and I love you. He turned to Sirius and gave a barely perceptible nod.

"And fuck you too, Pads," said James loudly, looking at Sirius angrily. "I just found out you transferred funds out of my account. That's my fucking money! Don't suppose you figured out how to get rid of my bracelets too?*"

"Obviously! You're so dim sometimes! Listen, Darling – that's in the flogger*. I bought that oil painting entitled "I brought soup* beside the armchair", I thought if we moved the painting called "our getaway sticks" * that leaves the Brunos* next to it, and then they get filled with daylight *. I mean art needs good daylight, right? Then it's just chin music* on our part, and hope to avoid a wooden kimono*? That still leaves the button men* with dotty*, which isn't duck soup*!"

"What? You fucking imbecile! You wasted my money on fucking trying to buy bird's nest soup and priceless Japanese artefacts? And then shitty modern art?" shouted James, looking apoplectic with rage. "You pompous, pretentious little bastard! We're going to need to kiss* the two big cats too, aren't we? Did you also buy the one entitled "Throwing an ing-bing* and hope the bimbos* get sore with us* and move away from the Jane*"? You're a fucking wanker! How stupid can you get! That portrait of The Bimbos was overpriced! I told you not to buy it! That was my money!"

"What the absolute fuck are they talking about?" said Avery, running his fingers through his receding hairline self-consciously.

"Fucked if I know!" said Rosier, sighing wearily.

"Yeah sure. Your money?" said Sirius, playing along. "Most of that money has nothing to do with the Potters, and you know it! It belonged to my uncle!"

"Your uncle?" shouted James, attempting to gesture using his manacled hands and getting stuck half-way. "You fuck up my entire inheritance and then you have the cheek to try to keep Uncle Alphard's bloody dosh all to yourself? Don't tell me you bought "They still have the bean shooters* and possibly shiv* but the Big Sleep's* coming anyway so let's cast a kitten*"? You're a selfish bastard, Pads!"

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"That painting is a fucking masterpiece and you know it! Yes, that's the plan. It was a steal at £20,000. Don't you dare try to get near my money!" he sneered. "It's all Black money, mine! Alphard would have a fit if he thought you'd gotten your grubby little paws on it!"

Bellatrix and the others stared at them in confusion.

"They were always squabbling about shit like this, like complete eejits," interrupted Lily, looking irritated. "I mean it's all overpriced bullshit if you ask me! I bet those snobs in Sotheby's couldn't believe their luck when Sirius started attending their high-end art auctions. He's so obviously clueless."

"Oh my God, could they be more fucking annoying?" said Snape, furiously grinding his teeth.

"I was going to give you a painting too, Evans, before you broke it off with me," said James, his hazel eyes warm as he looked at Lily steadily. "It was called Handcuff, belonged to my mother."

She didn't answer, feeling like it meant something, what he had just said.

"Handcuff?" said Sirius looking at James in complete surprise. "You never told me you were planning on giving her that? Oh yes, now I remember, the black box? You sly bastard."

"We're not married, I don't have to tell you everything, Pads," said James.

"That painting is way to kinky for Evans," said Sirius, seeing that James was still looking at Lily, for too long and with too much passion in his eyes. "And it's part of a set, the other painting is called Manacles and it's extremely hot? You should buy it!"

"Really, you think?" snorted James. "I'll keep it in mind if we make it out of here alive!"

"Don't you tell me what's too kinky for me, Sirius Black!" said Lily, narrowing her eyes. "I can do kinky just as well as you can, I'll have you know!"

"Oh Lord, not your competitive streak, Evans!" said Sirius, rolling his eyes at her. "Nobody does kink like Sirius Orion Black, end of!"

Bellatrix and Riddle shared a look.

"He's literally about to die, rather unpleasantly, and he hasn't stopped talking about sex?" asked Riddle, looking put out. "Can one of you please explain to me what is wrong with that man?"

"He's a sex addict," said James matter-of-factly.

"Thanks for sharing that, Prongs!" said Sirius, looking hurt. "Yes, fine, it's an addiction, one of my many, get over it!"

"He's an air head," said Bellatrix, shrugging.

"How did he get through College?" asked Riddle.

"Family connections? Bribes?" said Bellatrix dismissively.

"Anyway, stop avoiding the real issue, Black! You've definitely nicked some of my money," spat James, ignoring them. "This isn't the first time you've secretly transferred funds into one of your bank accounts and then tried to pass it off as yours!"

"What bank accounts?" asked Bellatrix, looking confused. "I checked your bank account, and the amount of cash in it is pathetic."

During their conversation, Sirius and James had slowly moved further and further away from where the black umbrella lay on the ground, discarded at Tom Riddle's feet.

"Oh that bank account!" said James. "Well obviously! Surely being a Black you understand how offshore accounts work?"

"I'm delighted you brought this up," began Bellatrix. "I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to transfer some of my dear cousin's deposits into ours."

"Cash or check*?" asked James, watching Sirius' face intently.

"Cash," said Sirius, with a curt nod.

It was the signal.

She started to move towards them, gun still in her hand.

"Fuck you!" shouted James, throwing himself on top of Sirius and kicking at him.

"Get off me, you bastard!" yelled Sirius.

As they rolled on the floor nearer to Lily and Peter, Sirius' deft fingers had removed the tiny tool from his jacket pocket and inserted it into the handcuffs, clicking them open.

"On the count of three," he muttered, watching as the two large men removed themselves from Lily and Peter's side and made a beeline for them.

Sirius pressed the button which he had attached to his leather jacket, making it look like a badge. The umbrella exploded suddenly, shattering the windows and propelling everything nearest to it into the air - furniture, bodies and glass splinters flying everywhere.

Then everything went black.

...

Paddy**: Irish person (often derogatory)

*1920s slang:

Fuzz:the police

Bracelets: handcuffs

That's in the flogger: that's in my jacket

I have soup: I have explosives

Getaway sticks:legs

that leaves the Brunos next to it, and then it fills them with daylight: that leaves the criminals next to the explosives, and then it kills them

it's just chin music on our part and hope to avoid a wooden kimono: we punch them in the face and hope we avoid getting killed (a coffin)

That still leaves the button men with dotty, which isn't duck soup:that still leaves the armed thugs with guns, which won't be easy

Throwing an ing-bing and hope the bimbos get sore with us and move away from the Jane:start a commotion and hope the thugs get angry with us and move away from the woman (i.e Lily)

We're going to need to kiss the two big cats too, aren't we: we're going to need to punch the two big men as well, aren't we?

They still have the bean shooters and possibly shiv but the Big Sleep's coming anyway so let's cast a kitten: they still have the guns and possibly knives but we're dead anyway if we do nothing, so let's create a scene

Handcuff: engagement ring

Manacle:Wedding ring

Cash or check: (do you want to kiss me) now or later?

Knee cap and six pack ***: Knee capping is a bullet wound to the knees used to paramilitaries such as the IRA as a form of torture to punish people. If the crime was considered grave, the victim was also shot in the ankles and elbows (colloquially known as a six pack).

Notes:

Wishing you all a Happy New Year! I've so enjoyed writing this because of all the wonderful comments you've left here and as usual it's too long so the next chapter will be the last one!