Hey guys! My new story, The Lion's Den, is up, so take a look at it! I've gotten really good feedback on it! Background information on the story is that The Lion's Den is a newspaper run by Gryffindor house (and written by Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Rita Skeeter, James Potter, and Lily Evans). It's pretty funny, so take a look!

Also, I have two new one-shots out, For Everything and She Doesn't Deserve You. Check 'em out!

IMPORTANT: Ignore the date on the newspaper story at the end of last chapter, as it is incorrect. The CORRECT date is June 27th, 1972. Also, a bit was added onto the newspaper story so... yeah.

Sorry this is so late, by the way. With the holidays coming, things have been hectic.

Chapter Three:

Gone Without A Trace

by PotterScar

Sirius, this time, wasn't relieved to appear back in the large, dark, dank room he'd been in before. His chest was tight, panic was seizing him, and he felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He took a deep breath of air, and had nearly calmed himself when he caught sight of his best friend yelling and struggling against the two Death Eaters that were restraining him. One of them growled in annoyance, holding their wand to his temple. A flash of light later, James Potter was limp in the two Death Eater's grasp.

Sirius cried, "James!", jumping forward without thinking of the consequences. He didn't see his father's face flash in anger as Orion Black reached out to stop his son. He didn't feel his father's strong fingers wrap around his arm, holding the limb so tightly that it would leave bruises. The world was swirling around him, and he hardly noticed a difference when his father preformed Side-Along-Apparition. He didn't even notice when he appeared in his gloomy home.

The first thing he noticed was a sharp slap across his face, delivered by his father. He swayed slightly, but he didn't see his father standing before him; the image of his best friend, hostage, was burned into the back of his eyelids.

"What were you thinking!" Orion Black roared, delivering another hard slap to his son's face... well, more like a punch. Sirius staggered, his thoughts being pulled back to the present time as if they'd been stretched on a rubber band, being pulled further and further from his father and closer to his best friend.

"They hurt James!" he yelled without thinking. Orion's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Do you mean to tell me you are not only on a first-name basis with Potter's son, but that you are actually friends with him!" Orion's voice had been rising steadily through the sentence, and now it was nothing short of a roar.

Sirius felt anger flare up inside of him, and with that anger came reckless courage. "Yes, father!" he yelled back, the last word said in a rather mocking tone. "And he's a better person than any of those bloody Slytherins!" Sirius felt that his words were weak compared to the feelings swelling inside of him.

Orion's face contorted with fury. He hit his son again, knocking the smaller boy off his feet. Sirius jumped immediately back up, cursing himself for not having his wand, though it would have been fruitless to use it against his father.

Orion struck him again as Sirius tried to dodge, but he wasn't agile enough and added a black eye to the mess of bruises along his face. Sirius managed to duck as his father's fist flew at him, and blindly threw a punch back, striking his father in the lip.

Orion's lip began to swell and bleed, and both Blacks were silent, Orion seething and Sirius in shock at what he did. Fear began to fill him like water in a pitcher.

Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, I'm going to get it now! Sirius thought. He briefly considered backing down, but pushed that thought away with disgust. He was a Gryffindor, dammit, he wouldn't back down now!

But am I just being stupid? Going against my father, a man who knows more Dark Arts then half the Death Eaters combined? Sirius wondered, but was pulled from his reverie by his father's wand pointing at his face. Sirius stared at the tip of the wand, going cross-eyed.

Orion's breathing was raspy. "If you insist on acting in the way of a filthy blood-traitor," he hissed, "then you should get the feeling of what blood-traitors have coming to them."

What the– Sirius thought in confusion, but his thoughts were cut off by his father's cry of "Crucio!"

Blinding pain filled him. Sirius immediately fell, screaming in agony. The pain was indescribable; it was like hundreds of thousands of white-hot knives stabbing him over and over again, in every part of his body, even his mind and soul...

As quickly as the pain had come, it vanished, leaving a slightly whimpering Sirius on the ground. Breathing hard, fighting back tears, Sirius lifted his head to look into his father's eyes. The icy grey eyes seemed even colder than normal, and Sirius felt himself fill with silent worry and fear. But all his father did when he pointed his wand at his son was levitate the boy off the ground, and Sirius unwillingly fell into a fitful sleep.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" James shrieked over and over again as two Death Eaters restrained him.

Panic was flooding him. His vision was beginning to blur. The shapes of other people swam, blending with each other. Suddenly, he felt a wand at his head, and a weird sensation came over him. It was as if he was falling, and voices around him were faint... and someone had shouted his name... the voice was so familiar... before James could think about that in more depth, he'd finally hit bottom, and he was unconscious.

"Toss him in the cells," Parkinson said gruffly, tossing him to Lestrange, who held the boy as if he were contaminated and dashed out of the room.

The room was buzzing with what Orion Black's son had done. "I knew we couldn't trust him not to try and help Potter's brat," Hollington said darkly to Malfoy. "He's a Gryffindor, a filthy blood-traitor."

"Calm yourself, Keith," Malfoy said serenely. "We'll turn him. It shan't be too hard; he's weak, as are all Gryffindors."

Suddenly, there was a stern crack, and there stood an angry-looking Orion. The shadow of a split lip was lingering around his mouth, as if he'd been injured and recently healed it. The room fell silent, watching Orion apprehensively.

"Now, now, quiet, are we?" came a smooth voice from the entryway. Orion Black was forgotten as the Death Eater's lord strode into the room, two small, faithful house-elves about his feet. "Begone, both of you!" he snapped to the wrinkled creatures, who squeaked and hurriedly obeyed.

The Death Eaters immediately snapped to attention. Lestrange walked back in, and managed to stifle a yelp that had nearly slipped out when he'd caught sight of his lord.

"The mission was successful?" he said, and the Death Eaters surrounding him nodded.

"We got the Potter brat," Parkinson said gruffly, looking towards the door where Lestrange had exited and entered.

"Excellent. Which cell is he in?"

"Number twenty-three, m'lord," Sebastian Lestrange said, looking respectfully at his master.

"Good. I shall... visit him later." A twisted smile hung about his lips. "Now, Black, have you gauged your son's response to my most generous offer?"

"Not yet, m'lord," Orion said, lying through his teeth. "I'll be sure to bring him to you tomorrow, he's had a trying day. He's at home at the moment.

"Of course," Voldemort said, not sounding as if he cared all that much. "Nott, a word if you please. The rest of you may go home if you wish.

Their assent was murmured throughout the small crowd, and, one by one, they Disapparated back to their homes, save Nott.

June 27th, 1972

Lily Evans entered her home, returning from a long bike ride around the neighborhood. Glancing at the clock, her stomach rumbled as she noticed that it was half past one. Suddenly, a tapping brought her out of her food-dominated reverie.

"Huh?" she muttered stupidly, looking over at the window as Stony the owl continued to tap on the kitchen window. "Oh! Stony!"

Stony was her best friend, Erica Susanna's, owl. Frowning, Lily threw open the window, letting the male owl flutter in.

"Er... there's some water in the glass on my night stand if you like," Lily said, throughly unclear about how to care for an owl. The owl hooted thankfully, waddling across the bed over to the glass of water and lapping it up.

Lily ripped open the letter, letting the parchment envelope flutter to her bedspread.

Dear Lily,

I hope your summer is starting well! Mine could be better, my father's been busy with all of these murders.

Lily nodded to herself knowingly. Erica's father was an Auror for the Ministry; sort of like a SWAT team for Muggles, she guessed.

BIG news. I know you don't get the Prophet, so I enclosed the story. James Potter was kidnapped!

Much love,
Erica

Lily gasped, hurriedly snatching up the envelope and digging through it, lifting out a thin sheet of gray paper that she hadn't noticed before.

June 27th, 1972

POTTER KIDNAPPED

The Potter home on Snidget Boulevard was attacked last night. Daniel Potter (58) and his wife Michelle Potter (56) suffered minor injuries, though they went through the worst thing that could ever happen to a parent: the loss of a child.

James Potter, 12, was kidnapped by the Death Eaters (see page 5 for more information), who were also responsible for the murder of the Zayton family.

The Potters request that if anyone has any information, they write them immediately. "We just want our son back," Michelle Potter choked through tears.

"This is a grave time, when a young child is taken from his parents," Minister Millicent Bagnold said this morning in an interview with this reporter.

To keep another tragedy like this from happening again, Bagnold advises that you ward your home against Dark magic and that you know your childrens' locations at all times. Pamphlets will be coming out within the month.

"Several murders, and then the kidnapping of a twelve-year-old?" Arthur Weasley, who is new to the Ministry of Magic, said. "We're going into dark times."

James Potter is going into his second-year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His parents describe him as average height and build, with extremely untidy jet-black hair, hazel eyes, and glasses.

(For more information on Lord Voldemort, see page 6)
(For contact information, see next page)

Lily's mouth hung open, and the scrap of newspaper fell from her hands to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

Two people in her year and House were gone. She swallowed hard, looking behind her out the window, as if she expected the Death Eaters to be coming up the street.

"Albus, what in the world are we going to do? One of our students, and the child of two prime members of society, is missing!"

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had been in quite a stitch over the past few days. First, the murder of Grace Zayton, and then the kidnapping of James Potter?

"It is not only Mr. Potter we should be worried about," Professor Albus Dumbledore said gravely, looking at Minerva over his half-moon glasses. She turned her sharp eyes on him, watching him warily.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"Orion Black has been pressuring his son to become a follower of the Dark Lord, according to some inside sources," Albus informed her, receiving a surprised look back.

"But he's merely twelve!"

"Voldemort's really working at getting an army. He calls them 'Junior Death Eaters'," the elderly man said sadly. Minerva looked horrified and disbelieving.

"Surely Sirius Black wouldn't turn! He's a Gryffindor!"

"There's some foul play involved; a connection between James Potter's kidnapping and Sirius Black's offer. Our source was told by his master that James Potter was to be converted to a Death Eater, but he obviously wouldn't join. I believe that Voldemort intends to use James as a bribe to get him to join. For example, James would go free and unharmed if Sirius joined."

Minerva's face turned to stone."But those two boys are inseparable! Do you think Black would make that decision?"

Albus sighed. "I don't know, Minerva. It's highly likely. Sirius is a Gryffindor, and an exceedingly noble one at that."

Minerva sighed, shaking her head. "Is there any way we could save James?"

Albus sighed as well. "Even if we could, it would put Sirius in considerable danger. His father is extraordinarily judgemental, and I have no doubt that he would find a way to convince Voldemort to pin the blame on Sirius. It's known enough that they aren't exactly fond of each other."

Minerva gritted her teeth. "Can't we just take the poor boy away from that awful family?" she asked, though she knew that it was improbable.

"Unlikely. We'd need substantial proof that the father is involved with the Death Eaters and that they mistreat their son. We don't know that Sirius is abused in any way."

"Nonsense, did you see that bruise on his cheek last Christmas? It was much to big to belong to one of his cousins or his younger brother!" Minerva exclaimed, looking peeved. "And as for his father, couldn't we use your source as a witness of some kind?"

"Many parents, unfortunately, use that as discipline occasionally. It doesn't signal that the child is being abused," Albus replied, the twinkle in his eyes completely gone. "And using the source as a witness would endanger his life. I am not prepared to put him in that situation."

Minerva silenced herself, thinking hard. Albus was doing the same, looking around his office. The portraits were all listening intently, and Phineas Nigellus was looking rather bored. He didn't seem to care that one of his descendents was in danger.

Suddenly, Minerva spoke."Albus, if you don't mind telling me, who is this source?"

"That, my dear Minerva, you will find out in due time," Albus said mysteriously, the twinkle returning.

Remus Lupin stared at the front page story in shock.

His best friend was missing!

Immediately, without a word to his shocked mother, he shot out of his seat and up the stairs, to his bedroom on the second floor, and to his desk in the corner, where a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill lay ready.

Uncorking the ink and dipping his quill in the thick black substance, he put quill to parchment as he wrote a letter to the one and only Sirius Black.

Darkness was surrounding him, pushing in on him from all sides. He felt like he was suffocating in his own mind. Screams for help echoed in his head, screams of an all too familiar voice, accompanying his own...

Sirius Black awoke in his bed, shrieking frantically. He immediately shut himself up, looking around wildly.

His room. His bed. His house. Maybe it was all just a bad dream...but ashe moved to look around further, he felt pain shoot up his spine.

He sighed. So it wasn't a dream. His best friend was in trouble, and here he was, lying helpless in bed.

"Master Sirius is awake!"

A tinny voice came from the door, and a small, wrinkled female house-elf had her head poked into the room. She was holding a small vial of potion.

"Finky got Master Sirius pain-reliever from the kitchens," Finky squeaked, creeping in and handing Sirius the potion, which Sirius downed. A numbness overcame him, and he looked sleepily at Finky.

"Did Father send it up?" he asked, his voice slurring as he began to fall asleep.

Finky looked guilty. "Erm... no, Master Sirius..." she said apologetically.

Sirius started to reply, but fell back onto his pillows in an exhausted sleep, not noticing a tawny owl tapping on his window, a letter in its clutches.

Rain pounded on the stone walls of the Riddle House's basement-turned-dungeon. Only one person inhabited the cells that stretched under the wooden floors of the foyer, dining and sitting room, and other assorted rooms on the floor above.

Groaning and stirring on the dirt floor, the figure picked up his head, looking around him blearily and immediately wondering where the hell he was, before the entire night before came rushing back to him.

"Mum... Dad..." he mumbled brokenly, curling into a small ball. The cold in the dungeons was biting, and the unusually chilly summer temperature outside didn't help in the least.

James Potter felt helpless, a feeling he wasn't used to. He suddenly felt the need for a parent's protection, a feeling of security...

Without warning, the twelve-year-old boy dissolved into tears, wrapping his arms around his knees and sobbing his troubles away.

Tap... tap... tap...

Noises invaded Sirius' dreams as he began to restlessly stir.

"Five more minutes, Mum..." he mumbled sleepily, but the tapping just grew louder and more impatient.

Finally, he cracked open one gray eye and was surprised to see that it wasn't his mother tapping in her irritating way upon his door, but an owl at his window. The owl was soaked, its letter just as wet, and the animal looked extremely irritated at being rained on. Sirius delicately moved to get out of bed, and was surprised to feel no pain. Walking to the window, he caught a brief glimpse of himself. His face was black-and-blue, one eye very swollen. He tore his eyes away from his reflection and threw open the window. Rain poured in as the owl fluttered inside, landing on his bed and shaking itself off all over the covers. Sirius rolled his eyes in vague annoyance, walking over to the bed and untying the wet letter from the owl's leg.

It was soaking wet and the ink on the outside was running. 'Sirius' was barely legible and 'Black' wasn't visible at all.

Opening the sopping letter carefully, he pulled out damp sheet of parchment inside, unfolding it delicately and reading it. A word here and there was smudged, but Sirius got the gist of it; Remus had heard that James was missing.

Heading towards his desk, he quickly scribbled a letter back.

Remus -

Trust me, I know.

- Sirius

P.S. Hope your holiday is enjoyable, besides this...

Of course, Sirius said nothing about how he saw James being taken from his home. He knew his letter didn't describe the mountains of feelings that were trapped within him. It must be his old mum's thinking: never show weakness.

Well, that's it. I feel bad now, because I made you wait so long for this update and it's so pathetic :-(

I promise, I'll make the next one SPECTACULAR!

PotterScar