It was Sunday, and therefore technically Alastor Moody's day off. He was spending it poking around every secret passageway in Hogwarts the house elves knew of, his eye roving in its socket to identify magical concealments. Albus was still working his way through the rooms frequented by various Defense Professors over the years. They were testing everything they found for transfigurations first, in case Voldemort had disguised the Diadem as something less obvious. So far, they'd found no horcruxes, but the house elves were having a lot of fun. They seemed to view his and Albus' mission as some kind of grand cleaning venture and happily carted away all the other interesting items Alastor unearthed that were too unpleasant to leave where he'd found them but not dangerous enough to warrant professional disposal. He asked Spock what the elves were doing with all the magical detritus, and learned the elves maintained an enormous dump in some out-of-the-way room that was bigger on the inside than the whole castle looked from the outside. Pretty much everything anyone at Hogwarts threw out ended up in the dump, from worn-out furniture to used hankies to torn spellbooks to dust bunnies. Only the kitchen scraps had a different destiny - treats for Hagrid's chickens. Alastor considered the horcrux might have ended up in the dump if some elf had decided to tidy up in its original hiding place over the years, but he doubted it. Surely Voldemort would have secured the part of his soul more cleverly than that.
If they failed to find the horcrux somewhere more auspicious, he would search the dump, but he wasn't looking forward to the idea. From the sound of it, the place was massive. They could sift through the collected junk for years with nothing to show for it, even if the horcrux was there.
He was jarred from his task by the listening spell in his pocket. He pulled out his own portrait, which was looking strangely harried for a painted face with no true consciousness. "Well?"
"How do I say this? From the sound of things, Rodolphus Lestrange has just killed the Dark Lord. I think Sirius must have put him under the Imperius curse a couple days ago after his meeting with Dumbledore."
"He what?"
"I'll go back and figure out what's happening now."
His painted self walked out of the frame again, leaving Alastor staring at the empty backdrop. "He what?"
Sirius had not planned to be in Lestrange Manor when Rodolphus made his move against Voldemort. To be sure, Sirius had not exactly planned anything. But he was called, and so he came on Sunday afternoon, two days before Uncle Cygnus' funeral. Bella met him in the foyer, looking very chipper despite her mourning clothes.
"He's meeting with Dolph at the moment. I'm to bring you back when Antonin gets here. Join me in the parlor, won't you, Siri?"
She linked an arm with his. They were ambling down the hall when it happened. The Dark Mark burned like a hot brand before suddenly going out again, leaving his arm feeling colder than it had been in almost a year. They each stumbled against the walls, and Sirius was overwhelmed with a vision like a pensieve memory that consumed all sight and sound of the world around him.
He was sitting atop a students' desk facing the Dark Lord. They were in a familiar clearing, the one in Yorkshire where Sirius had learnt the art of summoning Inferi.
"Are you loyal to me, Sirius Black?"
"As loyal as I can be, my Lord," Sirius answered. He filled his thoughts with genuine awe for Voldemort's incredible sorcery, the exhilarating sensation of power he had gained in exercising his own magic since joining the Death Eaters, and the satisfaction he felt every time he managed to coax a laugh out of the Darkest wizard in the world. All true. Nothing to do with loyalty, but he didn't think Voldemort quite understood the concept anyway, he was so quick to turn on loyal Death Eaters making perfectly human mistakes.
This was two nights ago, Sirius realized. The night Voldemort had told him about the Diadem and taken him to scout out the passageways at Hogwarts. He remembered this...
"The conversation we will have next I will erase from your mind, hidden with an Occlumency tag and a situational trigger."
"I understand, my Lord. I believe my mental shields strong enough to hide whatever you wish."
He felt Voldemort's satisfaction with the obvious truth in his response. "Tell me what you know about horcruxes."
Thank Merlin he'd been preparing for this ever since the news broke about Little Hangleton. He dearly hoped Moody was back in his portrait. "I've read the chapter in Secrets of the Darkest Arts," he said, neutrally.
"Was it of interest to you?"
"Er... in theory, sure. I'd never heard of them before reading that."
"Have you ever considered making one?"
Sirius almost laughed, and he didn't stop the welt of humor from trickling up to where Voldemort could sense it. "Ah, not really, my Lord. I suppose I've killed enough I could, but to be honest, the descriptions of horrible pain and the things that might happen if I get it wrong kind of put me off. Although, it was last year since I've read it, and I've learned a lot since then... Why, are you offering to teach me?"
Again, he sensed Voldemort's pleasure at the response. "Not yet. Perhaps not ever, should you displease me. But I have decided to entrust to you the greatest of secrets. I have completed that ritual and made a horcrux."
"Your skill and power never ceases to amaze me, my Lord."
"The making of a horcrux would be within your abilities, Sirius. Indeed, I made mine around your age. Younger, even." Sirius gasped in soft surprise at that. He'd never realized Voldemort got his start that young. "Yes, I completed my first kill while still a student at Hogwarts, and made my horcrux soon after. As I knew the school would eventually be mine, I hid the object there behind those heavy wards, while I myself traveled the world to learn even greater magics." He smiled crookedly. "Albus Dumbledore was not yet my enemy then, you understand, or I might have chosen another resting place."
Sirius slowly grinned himself. "Can you imagine Dumbledore's face though? If it was me, I'd have hidden my horcrux in my worst enemy's house just for that reason."
"Considering your worst enemy's house is also your own, I hardly find that surprising," Voldemort said cuttingly. Sirius scowled but had no retort. "I am contemplating moving the horcrux to a new location where it would be more accessible to the likes of you... should we actually need use it."
"You mean... in the event something happened to your body and I needed to perform a resurrection ritual?" he asked delicately.
"Correct. I do not expect this eventuality of course, but as my previous confidante has left us, I have chosen you to succeed him."
"I am honored, my Lord." He privately wondered if Bella and Dolohov were getting similar one-on-one debriefings about the other horcruxes, or if Voldemort really had chosen him alone.
"You are most honored, Sirius, because you have pleased me at every turn. Now... I will show you the horcrux and its current location in Hogwarts, before I obliviate you. If and when I decide to move the horcrux, I will inform you of its new location and modify your memory again. You will remember this conversation only if my current body is destroyed."
"Yes, my Lord." Sirius' view of the forest was suddenly obscured by a vision of a tarnished silver tiara set with sapphires. The most distinctive thing about it was the fact that it was tarnished; most wizarding or goblin silver didn't, except with exposure to Dark magic. There appeared to be script etched into the bottom, but Sirius could not quite read it. The tiara was sitting on a small end table amidst a towering collection of clutter in a room more massive than the Great Hall. Sirius had never encountered such a room in Hogwarts and was rather jealous the Dark Lord had discovered it. The vision swam backwards through what appeared to be an actual maze of broken furniture, drawing focus to certain landmarks along the way. And then they were at the edge of the room, and out of the door into a corridor Sirius recognized as being on the seventh floor of the castle. Then came Voldemort's instruction. To find the door, pace the wall three times holding the thought of this specific room in mind. Sirius suddenly understood the room did not always exist but rather was created by need. To hide the horcrux, Voldemort had asked specifically for a room completely filled with magical detritus, all of it far more interesting than the tarnished tiara it was created to conceal. Voldemort had never met anyone else who knew the secret of the strange room, and even if they did, they'd have to know which version of the room to ask for and then sort through a mountain of distractors... it honestly wasn't a half-bad hiding place. Even if Dumbledore found the right room today, it would take him years to sort through everything in there.
"Obliviate."
Sirius blinked...
Sirius blinked as Lestrange Manor rematerialized around him. His first thought was one of jubilant disbelief that his gamble to Imperius Rodolphus had actually worked. His second thought was panic as he noticed Bella was no longer standing in the hall with him. What if she had just had a similar horcrux-related memory unlocked? What if Dolohov had as well? If Sirius didn't act quickly, he'd lose the advantage he'd just won. And also be murdered.
He heard Bella screaming soon enough and pelted down the hall after her to see what was happening now. He burst into the dining room to find Rodolphus on his knees next to the prostrate body of Lord Voldemort. His wand was abandoned on the floor next to him. His eyes were wide and red. Silent tears streamed down his face as he gaped at what he had done.
Bella was shrieking at him in fury.
And then she was no longer screaming but rather slashing her wand violently. The first gouging curse tore deep into her husband's unprotected back. Then she severed his wand arm. Then she lashed him with a whip of fire.
"Bella, no!" Sirius shouted, unthinking.
Then she cut off Rodolphus' head. And still she cut at him, reducing the corpse to bloody bits, screaming and crying all the while.
"Impedimenta!" Why was he interfering? And why was he crying too?
She turned on him, movements stiff from the jinx. "He killed the Dark Lord! Admitted it with his own lips! He's a traitor!"
"Rodolphus couldn't resist the Imperius curse, Bella," he said. Why was he trying to reason with her and calm her down? Why wasn't he heaping the blame on Rodolphus as well?
She froze as if he had jinxed her again. Her eyes grew wide and flicked down to the bloody mess she had made of her husband. Grief and horror blossomed on her face. "Dolphy..." She looked back up at Sirius, and the grief vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by pure fury. "You! You did this! It's always been you!"
Sirius shook his head. "No."
"It's you or Antonin, Siri. No one else had the opportunity since the Dark Lord's purge. Avada Kedavra."
Sirius dove out of the way of the killing curse, and the next one, scrambling under the table for cover. Bella disintegrated the table, and Sirius threw a Stunning charm at her. Why had he done that? He should be trying to kill her right back! He was going to die if he didn't pull himself together. She kept casting Reductor and killing curses his way, muttering to herself all the while. "I'll bring you back, my sweet Lord. I'll handle the traitors, and then I'll bring you back..."
Shit. She knew about the horcruxes, or one of them anyway. And she was now between him and the front door. He rolled away from the next Avada, fired a Confringo and an Avis in Bella's direction, and muttered "Inkhera," setting an enchanted fire in his left hand. She broke through his shield with with a triple of gouging curses, but he ignored the pain slicing into his shoulder. He regained his feet and fled from the dining room towards the kitchen, setting the walls on fire behind him. He conjured masses of briars in his wake and set them on fire too.
"Finite Incantatem!" Bella screeched. She snarled when the Latin spell failed to extinguish the Egyptian flame charm, and she started blasting her way through the barriers instead. Sirius reached the kitchen where the house elf was cowering in fear.
"Your master's dead. Go to your nest, Posy," he ordered, and forgot about her. He snatched up the jar of floo powder on the massive kitchen hearth, trying to decide where to go when Bella was sure to follow and try to kill anyone standing next to him. He had to pick someplace defensible. The choice was obvious, but his hand shook as he threw the powder into the fire.
The last of the flaming briars blew apart behind him. He spun around and leveled his wand at the dark hallway leading back to the dining room. "Ignis Diaboli!" Bella barely managed to raise a shield against the jet of Fiendfyre, which splattered all over the walls and floor. He dropped the spell and stepped backwards into the waiting green flames. He could hear Bella shouting the countercurse as he whispered, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."
He stumbled out of the fireplace in the drawing room of his childhood home and immediately buried his hands in the thick carpet. He closed his eyes and reached for the house's wards with his magic. He was still Heir, and he was of age. They should obey his orders above any but his father. Close. Close. Close. The house responded to him sluggishly.
"Sirius? What the hell are you doing here?"
His concentration broke, and his eyes flew open again at Narcissa's voice. She was sitting on the settee, a book on her lap and cup of tea on the table next to her. "You're not supposed to be here," he whispered dumbly.
And then Bellatrix erupted out of the fireplace behind him. He'd missed his chance to lock her out. She hit him with a bonebreak curse that shattered his left ankle and foot. Sirius grunted in pain and conjured a shield around himself even as he scrambled away from her. Narcissa yelped and raised her own shield.
Bella was shouting at him again, accusing him of betraying the Dark Lord and making her kill Rodolphus, even as she continued to sling multiple Unforgivables at him every second. Sirius summoned books off the shelf to absorb the hits and cast dozens of silent Stunners and Petrification curses right back at her. She was yet uninjured though, and better able than him to dodge.
"Crucio!" The curse connected. It was the worst thing he had ever felt. Ten times worse than anything Voldemort had ever done to him. Worse than when Bella had tortured him after Rabastan's funeral, because this time the curse carried Bella's horrible guilt and grief over the loss of both the Dark Lord and Rodolphus. The sorrow she felt for the men she had genuinely loved and killed in madness far outweighed grief for merely her brother-in-law.
She forced all that guilt into him, and he took it.
He deserved it.
He had caused this grief. He had abused Bella's faith in him time and time again. He had driven Rodolphus to his death. He had caused so much pain...
Whatever lies Sirius had been telling himself in order to keep going for the past week, month, year, he could no longer believe them in this moment. The goals he had had were not worth the things he had done, were not worth feeling this way. His mind shuddered and cracked with the pain. This time, though, it did not flee behind Occlumency shields. This time, his human mind fled straight to the protection of the animal within. Without even knowing what he was doing, he transformed into Padfoot and so brought about an end to the wrenching emotional pain Bella was drowning him in. As a dog, he simply didn't feel it in the same way.
As a dog, he sure as hell felt the physical Cruciatus pain, though. The difference between a human and a wild animal faced with intense pain is simple. The human's overwhelming first instinct is to cower and be still, to stop the pain from getting worse. The animal's first instinct is to bite, kick, and scratch. Padfoot (not Sirius) therefore leapt right at Bella. Long white teeth sank into her delicate throat and ripped. Bella collapsed backwards, and the great black dog landed on top of her in prime position to finish off its prey.
The pain stopped. Mostly. Blood filled Sirius' mouth. He opened his jaws, releasing Bella's neck. Blood was still spurting out of it. Her eyes were wide and glassy. Her lips moved, but she didn't speak. Her hand scrabbled feebly in the carpet.
"Stupefy. Immobulus." Narcissa intoned clearly. Sirius' muscles froze in place. Bella's twitching body stilled. Narcissa quickly knelt beside them and waved her wand over Bella's neck, muttering healing charms. The terrible bite wounds closed, replaced by great puckered red scars. Narcissa sat back on her heels and turned to look at Sirius. "You will transform back into a human, and you will not do anything else, or I will kill you where you sit, Sirius Black."
Antonin Dolohov did not know precisely what to expect when he belatedly followed the pull of the Dark Mark to Lestrange Manor, but finding the place alight with Fiendfyre would not have been his first guess. It wasn't half as bad as Malfoy manor, not yet anyway, so he took out his wand and grimly beat his way through the fire. He encountered no one else living fighting the fire, but he did find two corpses in what was left of the dining room. One was unblemished and belonged to Lord Voldemort, not too surprisingly given the vision he had had while he had still been putting potions at Headquarters into stasis. The other body would have been unrecognizable except for the fact that a sobbing house elf had wiped the blood off the severed head it was cradling. Rodolphus Lestrange. He wondered what by Baba Yaga's iron teeth had happened. No sign of either Bellatrix or Sirius, but perhaps they had pursued the attacker. Or burnt up.
He pointed his wand at the elf. "Imperio." She set down her erstwhile master's head and trotted docilly to his side. He had some errands to run, and a cave to visit. She would be helpful. How fortunate Lord Nott's body remained suitably empty, a perfect receptacle for the Dark Lord's soul, once it was retrieved. He picked up Lord Voldemort's pale yew wand and left.
Author's note: Hooray! Voldie's deadish... Sirius really should have thought to do this kind of thing earlier, when it wouldn't be immediately obvious to everyone who matters that it was his fault. But, you know, foolish Gryffindor pAnIcK. Next update should be Saturday as per usual. Thanks as always for the reviews.
