Author's Note: Good news sample subjects of Earth! The glorious moment of My Aunt Hatty is upon you!
Author's Note Pt. II(Disclaimer): I own nothing! I see nothing! Anyway, anything recognizable as belonging to JK Rowling and Lovecraft do, in fact and contrary to popular belief, belong to them…even if Lovecraft's work is public domain – but we don't talk about that.
Author's Note Pt. III(A Note On Sirius' Character In This Series): Universe 1-A3's version of Sirius Black, to put it simply, doesn't have all her marbles. She's an incredibly-impulsive witch with a penchant for destruction and violence…who may or may not purposefully act like her elder cousin at times in order to unnerve people. I like to imagine both this Sirius and Bellatrix suffer from the famous (or infamous depending on whom you ask) fanon 'Black madness,' same with Walburga. Because that, dear friends, is what happens when your family tree more resembles a family circle. And then there's the twelve years in Azkaban which doesn't do much more than steal a few more of her marbles away. But anyway, this is just meant to be a warning, Sirius Black is a bit kooky in this fic.
Main Theme: Thick As Thieves by The Jam
Beginning Theme: Banana Splits by The Dickies
Secondary Theme: Black Dog by Led Zeppelin
Tertiary Theme: Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple
Quaternary Theme: Riders on the Storm by The Doors
Quinary Theme: Arabian Knights by Siouxsie And The Banshees
Senary Theme: Dear Prudence Performed by Siouxsie And The Banshees
Ending Theme: Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra
Location: Stamford Bridge, East Riding of Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom of Magical Britain
Date: November 7th, 1979 AD
"The bloody git's getting away, Moony!"
Remus John Lupin rolled his eyes slightly, choosing to ignore his companion's gross overestimation; for in his opinion, he had better things to focus on. Namely giving chase to the fleeing form of a Knight of Walpurgis, legging it down a small road running through the surrounding muggle village.
"Depulso!" He shouted, and jabbed his wand towards the fleeing Knight.
A pale jet lanced outwards from the tip of Remus' cypress wand and nigh-instantly struck the man…or woman. Those robes and that mask made such a thing really hard to discern.
The Knight was blasted to the ground with a flash of pale white light. In a flurry of black robes, a skittering mask and wand, the dark…person rolled, skidded, bounced across the rock-hard ground for nearly a couple yards. Finally coming to a rest, groaning in a gutter near the darkened visage of a muggle pub.
Remus kept his wand trained on the fallen figure as he jogged to a halt. His heart pounded noisily in his ears, and his breathing was heavy from exertion, "H-Hands out!" He demanded, kicking the nearby wand far away, "No sudden moves!"
Giving a masculine groan, the Knight slowly rolled onto his side, "Ly-lycan filth," He spat in a somewhat-nasally voice, pressing a gloved hand to his chest, "My bloody ribs, you bastard!"
"Yeah yeah," Remus spoke, "That's all you tossers ever have to say about me." He reached a baba-booted foot out and rolled the man onto his back, drawing a pained groan.
A smile tugged at Remus' lips as the Knight's exposed and somewhat-bloodied face was bathed in the dim moonlight, "Well, well." The werewolf gave a slightly-breathless chuckle, "Spurling, Euclid Spurling – Voldemort recruits Hogwarts students now?"
The Knight, Spurling, sneered, "St-Still Dumbledore's lapdog, eh lycan?"
"Vernario!" A voice Remus instantly recognized as belonging to his companion hissed from directly behind him.
There was a bang, a flash of yellowish light, and Spurling began screaming. The fallen Knight clutched his face as dozens of goopy, yellowish-green things began forcing their way out of his nostrils. Resembling big, malformed bats, they stretched Spurling's nose beyond what was possible, emerging covered in streaks of sticky red blood.
Remus let out a breath as Sirius Walburga Black practically skipped to a halt beside him, her wand held outwards, her blood red muggle hostess dress fluttering. He shot the dark-haired witch an exasperated look, "Was that really necessary, Sirius?"
She had that mad, glittering glint in her gray eyes again. A wild sort of delighted glee that Remus would have described as worrying, if he hadn't already known the Black heiress got a little…Well, unbalanced when it came to the prospect of fighting.
And violence in general, really.
With a flick of her wand, Sirius cancelled the bat-bogey hex just as a thirteenth and final mucusy creature tore itself free of Spurling's nose, "Dunno," She shrugged innocently and smirked, "It seemed like a good idea."
That damn excuse.
"Everything seems like a good idea to you," Remus said and ran a hand through his feathered lightish-brown hair. He shook his head, before lazily jabbing his wand towards the whimpering Spurling, "Accio secondary wand."
Nothing.
"You've hexed an unarmed man, Sirius. Happy?"
Sirius rolled her eyes, "Joy. So another lecture from Dumbledore on 'appropriate use of force.'" She sniffed and looked away in a fashion that could have only come from a childhood riddled with privilege, "Besides, I can't see a problem here – the git called you filth. And he's the enemy."
"Of course you don't see a problem," Remus muttered. He flicked his wand towards Spurling again, "Incarcerous." Thin cords of rope sprang from the werewolf's wand and instantly wrapped themselves tightly around the fallen Knight.
"Who is he?" Sirius questioned, glancing back over at Remus.
"Euclid Spurling," Remus replied.
Sirius snapped over, her eyes widening, "The Hufflepuff prefect?"
"Ex-Hufflepuff prefect. Ex-Student at Hogwarts," Remus spoke as he stooped down and grabbed the collar of Spurling's robes. The werewolf cast a glance towards Sirius, and hauled the Knight to his feet, "New Azkaban inmate."
The dark-haired witch gave a sudden giggle, peeking over at the Knight, "Aw, ickle Euclid got himself branded, did he?"
Both Remus and even Spurling gave slight, involuntary shudders. The former felt his lips twist into a small frown, there was absolutely no way Sirius didn't know how much she sounded like her elder cousin at times.
Sirius poked Spurling's bloody mucus-covered cheek with the tip of her wand, and let out a snicker as his face twitched, "You're not even pureblood, Spurling. What the hell are you doing, running about under Voldemort's flag?"
The Knight flinched at the name, "T-The Dark Lord-!" Spurling began in an imperious tone.
"-Shall get us and kill us and chop us all up into little itty pieces blah, blah, blahbbity, blah," Sirius interrupted, and poked him in the cheek again, though this time noticeably harder, "You lot really need to come up with some newer material. Wouldn't want to go around giving our beloved Dark Lord a bad name, now would we, ickle bitty Euclid?"
Remus twitched slightly and began dragging the bound Knight down the street. He had been unfortunate enough to come face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange, formerly Bellatrix Black during one of his first missions with the Order.
It was an understandably dreadful experience he hoped to, one day, forget. And Sirius certainly wasn't helping in that regard – even if she was just needling Spurling.
Sirius began to follow in an odd sort of half-skip half-walk, "And I mean to go on and on and on. We are the champions, my friend!" She jabbed her wand at Spurling, sending a jet of bright reddish-white light straight into the man's face, "No time for losers!"
Remus sighed as Spurling released a short cry of pain and nearly half his face began to redden and swell. He was pretty sure this sort of thing was against the muggle geneva convention…but then again, that didn't apply to the magical world.
And then again…again, did stinging jinxes even count as a method of torture? Perhaps in large amounts.
"She's mad," Remus heard Spurling whimper.
Good Merlin, even the enemy were saying it now.
"And we'll fight 'till the end!" Sirius sang, "'Cause we are the champions!"
"Simmer down, mate," Remus spoke, and yet again ran a hand through his hair, "You'll wake the muggles."
Sirius paused in her half-skipping gait and gave an audible scoff, "Come on, Remus. We've won. Aren't you happy about it?"
A snort tore its way from the werewolf's nostrils, "I'll be happy when you," Remus gestured towards the dark-haired witch, "I, and Spurling have reached headquarters. Safe and…safe…" He suddenly trailed off, shook his head, and pursed his lips, "Don't you think there was something…off about this?"
"About what?" Sirius blinked.
"This," Remus spoke, as he came to a halt and turned to the dark-haired witch, "This whole mission…Hasn't it seemed off to you?"
She paused, a second passed, then another. Sirius tapped the tip of her wand against her chin, and another second passed, before, "Nope!" She suddenly answered, and gave a smile.
Remus rolled his eyes, "Well I have a bad feeling."
"What? You think this is a bloody setup or something?" Sirius queried, raising an elegant black eyebrow.
"Dunno," Remus said and shook his head slowly, "I just…it seemed too easy – nabbing this one." He jerked his head towards Spurling.
"He almost got away," Sirius tried, giving a shrug.
"No, you just kept saying he was going to get away."
Sirius pouted, "It looked like the git was outrunning you."
"I'm a bleedin-!" Remus started, only to stop himself short before he could mention his dreaded 'furry problem,' as James called it. Why was he trying to explain this now? Why was he trying to explain it in the first place?
He ran a hand over his eyes and released a short sigh. Remus fixed the dark-haired witch with a dry look, saying in a steady, equally-dry voice, "You know what? Let's get the hell out of here before something-"
A trio of sharp, snapping cracks rang through the silent muggle village, echoing into the night air. In an instant, three black-robed figures appeared several or so metres back down the road, wands visibly drawn. Two were hooded and wore bone-white masks that revealed only their eyes, whilst the third had neither.
Sirius immediately spun about as a gleeful smile began curling at her red-painted lips, and Remus gave a sigh, "Something like that happens." The werewolf finished.
Swiftly jabbing his wand towards Spurling, "Stupefy." Remus muttered, and a flash of red forced the young man into unconsciousness. He immediately snapped his wand upwards, fixing his full attention firmly on the three Knights of Walpurgis down the road.
"Girls and boys, came out to play," Sirius snickered in a low voice, and as she twirled her wand between her fingers.
Remus let out a short breath, his eyes still fixed on the trio of Knights, "How do you suppose we do this, Mother Goose?"
"Mother what?" Sirius asked, shooting him a brief but questioning glance.
"Mother Goo…nevermind," Remus shook his head. He glanced at the dark-haired witch, "But my question still stands, Padfoot."
Sirius gave a slight shrug, "Well, I guess we could…drive them into a building and collapse it in on their heads?" At Remus' unimpressed glance, she added, "An abandoned building then?"
"We're not collapsing a whole muggle building just so we can nab a few dark wizards," Remus said dryly.
The dark-haired witch let out a huff, and finally stilled her wand, "You never like any of my plans."
"Because they always involve destroying something," Remus shot back. He shook his head again, "I'm sure the Obliviation Corps would likely pay Voldemort to kill us if I ever let you go through with one."
"This is all quite entertaining, really. But we have a job to do, I trust you both understand that." A youthful voice called out in a drawl.
Remus nigh-immediately pinpointed it as coming from the third, unmasked Knight's mouth. The werewolf pursed his lips, he looked somewhat familiar. Familiar in an unfamiliar sort of way, like someone he had only caught glances of until now.
One of the other Knights let out a harsh-voiced laugh behind his mask, "I've always wanted a werewolf leather notebook." He visibly twirled his gnarled wand, "Might I take the lycan, Rosier?"
Rosier? Did he mean Evan Rosier? As in the youngest confirmed Knight of Walpurgis? The Evan Rosier who was expelled from Hogwarts for murdering another student?
Sirius let out a short, displeased sound at the Knight's request. Remus, in turn, let out a quiet breath, this wasn't going to end quickly or quietly. She had never taken kindly to jabs at his lycanthropy, not in fifth year after the news came out and not now. James liked to say Sirius got offended for him.
In truth, Remus didn't even really care what was said about his condition anymore. Endlessly-parroted opinions, insults, and threats tended to get old and quite frankly boring after a while…At least in his opinion.
"Osucono," Sirius spoke, as she slashed her wand towards the harsh-voiced Knight. A jet of pinkish-red light emerged from the tip of her wand and rocketed towards the dark wizard.
The unmasked Knight, Rosier, flicked his wand upwards, raising a shield charm around the other wizard just as the spell neared. With a sound like a gong, the spell, the curse, Remus noted, splashed against the charm, and a smile crossed Rosier's youthful face.
"A bone-snapping curse, Black?" Rosier commented, "I assumed you had turned away from that sort of thing."
James probably would have said something witty about the 'Black madness' and her 'dark temptations' being stronger than free will…But Remus was neither James, nor in the mood to get hexed. So he merely rolled his eyes and shot a glance at Sirius, "You go after Rosier – I'll take Mister Werewolf Leather and his little mate."
Sirius shot him a smirk, "Don't let yourself get flayed, Moony."
"As if I ever would," Remus shot back, and returned her smirk. He swiftly snapped his wand towards the second masked Knight, and slashed it in a 'V' sort of motion, "Ventis Duo!"
At the same time, Sirius jabbed her wand towards Rosier, shouting, "Colloshoo!"
With a terrific whooshing, a great swirling gust of wind tore from Remus' wand, roaring towards the masked Knight. Without skipping a beat, the werewolf flicked his wand towards the harsh-voiced Knight, sending a bright red spell jetting outwards.
Rosier raised a shield charm with a flick of his wand, deflecting Sirius' stickfast hex with an echoing sound.
He slashed his wand towards the dark-haired witch, and an arc of crackling, popping bright orange light soared down the road. Sirius disappeared with a soft pop, allowing the orange spell to sail through where she once stood and smash into a stretch of wooden fence with a small cracking popping explosion.
Remus gave a small smirk as the wind spell effortlessly bowled the masked Knight over. He swiftly stabbed his wand at the man, "Stupefy!" Not even waiting to see if the stunner impacted, Remus snapped towards the Knight's harsh-voiced companion.
Through the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius reappear with an identical pop. She immediately slashed her wand towards Rosier.
What could only have been described as a great silvery whip lanced outwards from the piece of red oak with a terrific snapping crack. The young Knight raised a shield charm just in time, and the whip curse impacted with a great clang.
"Avad-!" The harsh-voiced Knight began, jabbing his wand towards Remus.
The werewolf cut him off with a swift blasting curse. A sharp 'hrrk' sort of sound escaped the man as the spell impacted his abdomen and instantly sent him flying backwards in an explosion of fiery orange.
Sirius whipped her wand, once more sending the silvery tendril smashing into Rosier's shield charm. She gave a wild, gleeful laugh, her face lighting up madly as the charm flickered, then fell.
Once more she whipped her hand back to bring whatever curse that was down upon the young Knight. Rosier disappeared with a sharp crack as the whip gave another terrific snapping sound, and began to fall back towards him.
Rosier reappeared with another sharp crack, and slashed his wand towards the werewolf, "Correndio!" He spat, sending a bright white light sailing towards Remus.
"Barbaretio!" Sirius muttered, and slashed her wand towards Rosier. In an instant, there was an electricity-like crackle and a jet of blue-red light lanced from the tip of her wand.
Flicking his wand, Remus swiftly summoned a muggle rubbish bin into the piercing curse's path. With an explosion of light, the bin burst into white flames and dropped to the road with an obnoxious clanging. He immediately waved his wand, "Avis!" The werewolf incanted, then jabbed it towards the young Knight.
With a sound akin to a muggle firearm and a puff of silvery smoke, an entire flock of warbling calling gray shrikes soared from the tip of Remus' wand. They roared, looking like a great gray blob upwards, then down towards Rosier.
Diving to avoid Sirius' beard jinx, Rosier rolled into a kneeling position, "Avada Kedavra!" The Knight hissed, and slashed his wand towards the cloud of birds.
Several shrikes exploded in puffs of smoke and a terrific flash of sickly yellowish-green light. But the remainder continued diving downwards, down towards Rosier.
A cruel smile suddenly lit the young Knight's face, as those birds hurtled towards him, the sort of smile that made it seem as if he were excited. Rosier rose to his feet, stabbed his wand towards the flock, and shouted, "Pestis Incendium!"
Oh fuck.
Remus' eyes widened as sweltering, hellish flames began pouring from Rosier's wand with a terrible bellowing roar. Swelling to immense size within seconds, the cursed fire utterly erased the conjured birds and began forming itself into a myriad of creatures. Dragons, snakes, chimaeras, manticores, all roaring and moving as if they had minds of their own.
"No wonder you got expelled, Rosier!" He vaguely registered Sirius laugh, seemingly delighted at this newest development, "Didn't mummy ever tell you that it's naughty to play with fiendfyre?!"
Fiendfyre…in a muggle village. Good Merlin.
"Padfoot!" The werewolf called, struggling to be heard over the roar of the cursed fire, "I think we need-!"
Sirius cut him off with a laugh, "Go on, Remus!" She replied, and jabbed her wand towards the veritable wall of fiendfyre, "Desurio Maxima! We'll need the Order's help to put all this bloody stuff out!"
Remus opened his mouth to…something. Argue maybe. Only to watch as a jet of black and deep fiery-orange light lanced outwards from the dark-haired witch's wand. With a terrific ear-splitting boom, the spell impacted the flames and exploded with the force of a muggle bomb, sending a spray of cursed flame droplets scattering every which way.
He quickly hopped aside to avoid some falling fiery death, "What about you?!" Remus shouted.
"Come on, Moony!" Sirius responded, "Do you really think a fifteen-year-old can beat me?!" She slashed her wand in an arc, promptly banishing a second muggle bin directly towards Rosier's chest.
The bin was instantly vaporised as the young Knight directed his wall of fiery beasts down. Remus felt the air leave his lungs as fiendfyre roared out, mushrooming across the pavement and slamming into a row of muggle shops. With a great 'fwoom' the connected buildings exploded into cursed flame, fiendfyre instantly penetrating every nook and cranny. This was getting out of hand, and very quickly.
Sirius gave a wild laugh that sent chills snaking down Remus' spine, and jabbed her wand towards a scattering of brick debris. In an instant, the bits of broken brick and mortar began to reshape themselves, moving like liquid, forming into nightmarish spikes of smooth white porcelain.
A simple slash of her wand sent the porcelain spikes hurtling towards Rosier. There was a second furious 'fwoom' sound as a flaming manticore leapt into the spikes' path and was instantly dispersed into an unrecognisable mass – one that quickly reformed seconds after.
The werewolf flinched when a nearby tree exploded, "S-Padfoot-!" He started in a shout.
A harsh, dry-voiced laugh echoed through the village in a fashion warped from the roaring fiendfyre, "Enough lycan!" Rosier laughed, "The blood-traitor I have an appointment to keep, and you're interrupting it!"
Remus shot a glance at Sirius and felt his eyes widen – by the look of it, she had started collecting a great globe of murky water from the nearby river. The Black heiress moved her red oak wand in a complex fashion, the tip burning a bright bluish-gold while tendrils of water flowed up and over the burning shops and gathered themselves into the sphere.
He was forced to look away as, in an instant, an entire section of the wall of flaming creatures rose up from where they lapped at the row of muggle shops and surged towards Remus. Searing heat immediately bore down upon him with the brightness of a noonday sun. Like an ocean wave, the fiendfyre crept across the pavement towards him, turning it to boiling bubbling tar as it mushroomed outwards with that horrible billowing roar.
Remus glanced over at Sirius again, "Padfoot!" He called, "I don-!"
"Go on, Remus!" Sirius replied as one last trail of water absorbed into her murky globe, which had grown to the size of a muggle car. She looked up and met his gaze through a curtain of dark hair, and smirked visibly.
A moment passed, he drew in a breath of violently-hot air, and nodded, "Just don't get yourself killed, Padfoot!" Shouted Remus.
Sirius gave a wild laugh, her globe starting to swirl and churn like a small ocean, "Never! This bloody war would be infinitely more shite without me around to needle you!"
A yelp tore its way from Remus' throat as the fiery heat suddenly doubled, becoming akin to a mortuary's oven in temperature. The heat of the nearing fiendfyre assaulted his face and hands, instantly evaporating away any sweat that dared to form.
With one last, short glance towards Sirius, a crack rang out as he finally disapparated away.
While he apparated, the usual unpleasant sensation of being shoved through a small tube suddenly and violently gave way to one far more terrible – falling. Remus' stomach did cartwheels while the sensation of falling overtook his mind with an odd form of panic.
All around, the world had devolved into a horrible form of darkness. Like an unlit room at nighttime, the darkness was pitch-black and all-consuming, with no area on all sides for light to penetrate.
He fell and fell, his stomach flipping and flopping in his gut. Until, just as an unseen end to his descent seemed to approach – Remus bolted upwards, and found more darkness…and covers, soft warm covers. Was he in-? Oh, right, the werewolf slumped backwards into his bed, into the rather-moist pillow.
The werewolf drew in a breath of pleasant air and scrubbed at his eyes, that had been one bloody realistic dream. Remus shot a quick glance around at his darkened room, judging by the light peeking out from behind his ugly maroon curtains, it was morning.
What a fucking dream. He hadn't thought about that night in ages – not since Sirius…not since that bitch showed her true colours.
That bloody…no, no, Remus had long ago sworn off feeding his vitriol internally. He didn't need, nor want any part of the hatred it festered within him. And no matter how he looked at it, how he rationalised it – hating Sirius for what she had done, no matter how horrible, somehow always left a bad taste in his mouth.
Remus gave a sigh, and what a way to start a morning off. Dream dredges up memories from a decade and a half ago and-
There was a tinkling crash as something broke through his window and promptly became hopelessly tangled up in his curtains. It emitted a helpless squawk as it flailed about like some cartoon ghost out of a Hanna-Barbera show.
And an owl breaks his window again. Joy. He really needed to raise some anti-owl charms around those.
Remus scrambled up from his bed before the owl could do any more damage, "Here-Here-Here." He repeated as the owl flapped and flailed, knocking over one of the twin second-place trophies he and Lily had won for the Inter-House Potions Competition.
Tripping over his dresser in the process, Remus finally managed to pull the curtain away, allowing the owl to flap free from its prison. He gave a sigh as the rather-plain looking barn owl landed with an audible thump on his bed.
With a displeased sound, it gave a mighty flap, hopped upwards, and dislodged what looked to be a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been attached to its leg.
"Alright," Remus chuckled while he trudged back over to his bed, "Let's see what you're so anxious about delivering." He idly reached over and pulled the chain attached to the lamp on his bedside table, the light blazed on with an accompanying click.
The Daily Prophet's front cover faced downwards on the bed, exposing a number of increasingly-vapid articles on salacious sports figures and pureblood scandals and other rubbish.
Remus snatched a glass of water off his bedside table and offered outwards as he plucked up the newspaper. With a short croon, the plain-looking barn owl hopped over and began guzzling greedily.
Flipping the paper over there was one long second where he simply stared at the cover, a cold sensation overtook his entire being as he felt the glass slip from his hand…Only for it to promptly slam into his toe and spill its contents all over his foot.
While he gave a mighty yowl of pain, the Daily Prophet dropped to the bed, and on its cover, the pale, grinning face of his former-friend laughed soundlessly upwards.
Black Escapes Azkaban!
/ / / / / / / /
Location: Near Dunbeath, Caithness, Scotland, United Kingdom of Magical Britain
Date: July 30th, 1993 AD
Sirius Walburga Black gave what was most definitely not a squeak as she appeared with a soft pop, about elbow-deep in the water of a pond…maybe. Almost-instantaneously, she released a short gasp as the ice cold permeated deep into her emaciated and partially-bare form – the section of the North Sea she was forced to brave hadn't been kind to the already-frayed and threadbare abominations Azkaban tried to pass off as prison robes.
Note to self: don't apparate to places you've never been…to. Now just where the bloody hell was she?
Casting a glance around, Sirius found…more darkness. She sniffed the air and folded her bony arms to brace against the chill, and there was a cottage pie somewhere near! She sniffed again – burning rubbish as well! The smells of civilization!
Sirius gave a mighty shiver as a cool breeze swept across the pond, or whatever she was elbow-deep in. Maybe it was a river? No, wait, the water wasn't moving – it must have been a pond…or a lake…or a bay. Wait, no again – there weren't any waves.
Shivering again, Sirius took a tentative step forwards and felt the moss or mud or whatever squish unpleasantly between her toes. If only she had a wand, the first thing she'd do was conjure something warm and waterproof…maybe a poncho, oh! Or one of those sealskin outfits the natives wore up in the Arctic! Warm and waterproof, oh lovely-jubbly.
A soft cracking of twigs being trodden upon and swish of plants being pushed aside suddenly echoed from the darkness ahead of her. Sirius froze mid-step as there was a soft click somewhere out there in the darkness, and a cone of yellowish light blinked on in the direct distance.
Shite. Wasn't that one of those muggle flash-things…flashbulbs? No, that didn't sound right, not at all.
Her thoughts suddenly and violently ground to a halt as a nasal voice said something unintelligible from the same general direction as the cone. At once, the crashing and swishing sounds redoubled in speed and the cone of light began trailing in her direction.
Less than a moment later, a second unintelligible voice, this one much less nasal, gave a reply from the same direction as the first. Sirius felt her eyes widen as the cracking swishing sounds became yet louder and more furious in nature, growing nearer and nearer with each passing moment. An odd sense of fluttering panic rose in the pit of the Black heiress' stomach, could they be Aurors?
There was a swift and obvious answer to that – no. Not unless the corps had started using muggle artefacts in the twelve years she'd been locked up. So…muggles then. But what sort of muggles faffed about in the dark? Those please-men? Or wait, was it peace-men?
Either way and whoever it happened to be, they were heading directly towards the pond she stood in…very loudly. Or maybe that was just her senses starting to take on doglike characteristics – Sirius had a fuzzy memory of McGonagall saying something about how extended time in an animagus form did…something like that, she hadn't really been listening at the time.
Sirius gave one more shiver, pulling the frayed waterlogged remnants of her outer prison robe around her near-skeletal shoulders. She took a small, careful step backwards as the cracking and swishing sounds reached their apex.
A strange but all-too-familiar sensation began spreading across her body, raising goose pimples on her pale, waxy skin as it passed. In an instant, dark fur began to sprout in patches across her form with pinpricks of pain. She looked down at her arms, which steadily reshaped themselves into a pair of great front legs. Her gaunt, near-skeletal torso reshaped itself into a furry canid form. And with an odd sort of fluttering pressure, her head elongated, her ears doing much the same, while her eyes turned dark and doglike.
With a great bound and a slight yip, Sirius, fully transformed into Padfoot, leapt from the now chest-deep and still ice-cold water. Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold!
She landed in a field of what she now realised were bulrush, shivering. Merlin's tits, that was cold! What sort of horrible place had any right to be that cold in July? Sirius shivered again, and slowly steadied herself on the ground, before giving a mighty shake that sent droplets of water spraying every which way.
Sirius gave another shake to dislodge the last of the water from her rather-matted and dirty black fur. Now for a clean-
"Bloody hell! There's a dog over there!" Said an unseen and very-youthful voice.
Oh right, the muggles.
With one final round of cracking and swishing, the cone of light pierced through the shield of bulrush and its wielder was finally revealed. Sirius almost groaned. As, standing there, amidst the bulrush and fallen branches were a pair of pimply teenage boys.
That's what she was so worried about? A couple of snots who didn't even look old enough to drink butterbeer? She sniffed the air and immediately regretted it – acrid cigarette smoke and pungent body odour, they were teenage boys alright.
Sirius stared at the teenagers, and the teenagers stared back. It was a Mexican standoff, like in those muggle movies that used to show up on the Potters' charmed mirror.
Several long moments passed, and as it turned out, the muggles broke first, "Shit, that's a big dog." Uttered the one with the nasal voice softly.
"Yeah," The second teenager agreed dully.
With an audible and very-canine sniff, Sirius promptly sat her haunches down on the moist earth. She wasn't just some big dog – she was the most magnificent canid creature to ever grace Britain! Really, just because she…well, she most certainly looked quite terrible at the moment.
"It could be rabid," The nasal-voiced one hissed out.
Oh, come now! Sirius may have been dirty, thin as a bowtruckle and have what felt like Persian rugs hanging from her fur, but she certainly didn't look rabid. That was simply too far.
"No," The non-nasal voiced one replied immediately.
The nasal-voiced teen glanced over at his friend, his brows rising incredulously, "You an expert on rabid animals now, Dicky?"
"Shut up," The other teen retorted and cast his gaze in Sirius' direction, "It can't be rabid – too calm."
Sirius gave a very-doglike huff, at least one of them had half a brain. The Black heiress slowly got to her four feet and began wagging her great black tail, did this seem rabid you little snot? By Merlin, Sirius hoped she still looked at least a bit endearing.
The non-nasal one gave a slight smile, "See?" He spoke, glancing over at his nasal-voiced friend, "She's not rabid – just a bit…dirty."
"Your gran's never going to allow it in the house," The nasal-voiced teen pointed out as he lowered the still-blazing flash-thing, before adding in a confused tone, "She?"
"Seems like a she to me," The other teen shrugged.
Just as the words left the teen's mouth, there was a sudden and terrific rumbling that echoed from the black sky above. Sirius risked a glance upwards, and found lightning flashing within the dark storm clouds. Merlin's beard, now that was an oncoming storm.
"Shit," The non nasal-voiced teen swore as he cast a look upwards, "That must be the storm we heard about on your radio."
"Christ," The nasal-voiced teen replied, and looked upwards to see for himself, "I don't think we'll make it back in time."
Sirius felt her tail slow, she hated rain…and dreariness in general, anything of the sort always reminded her of far, far worse times. And then there was the smell of wet dog that inevitably sprung from any amount of water making contact with her fur, it was a smell that sadly transferred to her human form as well.
Glancing over at Sirius, the non nasal-voiced teen narrowed his eyes, "And what about her?"
Yeah! What about her?
"Screw the dog!" The nasal-voiced teen replied as he began reeling around, "It's gonna start pissin' down any minute, Dicky! And my mum's going to have my arse if I track mud in!"
Thunder rolled in the sky as if to punctuate the moment. And seconds later, jagged lightning flashed within the dark cloud cover.
The non nasal-voiced teen glanced from Sirius, to his rapidly-fleeing friend and back. A couple moments passed, and he finally seemed to settle on Sirius, the teen put his lips together and gave a short whistle, "Here girl!" He whistled again, "Come now, with me!"
Sirius began wagging again in earnest and practically-flounced towards the teenager four-leggedly. A small smile lit his face as she approached, and a hand quickly ran its way down her spine.
"Christ, you really are a big dog," The teen chuckled as Sirius dried her waterlogged side on his jumper.
And nothing else, muggle.
Once finished with her task, Sirius circled around and looked up at the teenager, her ears back, with an especially doglike form of expectancy.
His smile widened slightly at the look, and he quickly jerked his head in the direction his mate fled, "Come on." The teen said, and began swiftly striding in said direction.
Sirius quickly began trotting alongside the teen, her tail wagging along in time with her strides. Perhaps this smelly teen would lead her to that cottage pie her nose kept catching…well, that or the burning rubbish. She could go for either at the moment – twelve years of mouldy bread, rats and dirty water hadn't treated her palate well, not well at all.
The teen led her into the grove of bulrush, and she gave a terrific sneeze when a bit of loose brown-white fluff brushed across her nose. Sirius frowned internally at the all to unpleasant sensation of her paws sinking into the moist earth with each graceful stride. They cleared the grove within a couple minutes, and emerged on the base of a small hill.
She licked her chops when the heavenly scent of a cottage pie once more wafted across her nose. Merlin did that smell lovely. There was also a slight tinge of an earthy aroma to the air, stemming from the incoming rain no doubt.
As Sirius and the teen walked up the small hill, she sent a quick glance towards him. The Black heiress hadn't gotten a chance to really look at…what did that other muggle call him, Ducky? No, that didn't sound right. Anyway, he looked about what, twelve, thirteen?
Thirteen…Harry was going to be thirteen, and in his third year at Hogwarts soon. Hard to believe it had been twelve years since she last saw her godbaby. Twelve years – bloody fucking hell, she really needed to make first contact once the Pettegrew problem had been…dealt with. Poor little Fawn, Remus, the bastard, had probably raised him into a bookworm, or worse, a Ravenclaw.
Thunder rolled and lightning flashed overhead as Sirius followed the teen. Yes, Harry was almost-certainly going to need some Gryffindor influence…for his development, or something. Remus, Moony, he wasn't a true Gryffindor – he was brave and chivalrous, yes…but he was almost sorted into Ravenclaw as well. And that…well, none of that really mattered at the moment.
Sirius let out a very-canine sigh, Harry was in good, albeit traitorous hands, and her mind needed to be focused on more pressing matters…Like the Rat. Just how long had that little fucker been sitting pretty with the Weasleys while she was sitting…unpretty, in Azkaban? Without a trial?
Three years? Five years? Eight? Or had he been there all twelve? The little bastard – when Sirius got a hold of him…well, she'd make whatever happened next last. Perhaps she could dust off some of the more…horrid spells dearest Mother forced her to learn…all those dangly-bit removal curses, oh lovely.
That Weasley girl did pose quite the problem, though. The family wasn't in the country…and Sirius had no clue when they were coming back. Thus, to be safe, she would have to nab the Rat while the children were at Hogwarts. And that was to be a difficult task, considering the Ministry was most likely going to be running 'round like a gnome with its head lopped off for the next…however long this thing lasted.
Getting into the castle was easy, because if there was one thing she managed to memorise from her days at Hogwarts it was the secret passages. The hard part of the whole operation was going to be getting past the Fat Lady, as that portrait had never liked her. Not as a student and certainly not as an escaped prisoner.
How would she get in? It wasn't as if some student would just leave the password lying about – that was just ludicrous, even for her.
No, no, Sirius would have to come up with a cunning plan to slip past that portrait. She could do cunning – it was in her blood after all, she may not have been as good at it in comparison to Reggie…and everyone else in her family. But still, she could do cunning.
What would she do in the meantime? Oh! Maybe she could visit Harry!...Wait, but Remus would probably kill her on sight…and she highly doubted he still lived above that odd little secondhand quill shop in Sludge Alley. And didn't the whole world think she was one of Voldemort's toadies? No, a visit wouldn't go over well, not well at all.
"We're almost there, girl," Said the teen as a cramped-looking two-story stone farmhouse, set against a small rocky cliff face, appeared out of the evening fog.
Lightning flashed its way through the sky while Sirius and the teen steadily approached the house. Thunder rumbled its warning cry less than a second later, the storm was nearly upon them.
A couple moments passed, and the house's front door swung open in the near distance. In the doorway stood a matronly figure that proceeded to gesture wildly, "Quick, Dicky! I don't want any mud tracked in!" Called a feminine voice.
"Gran!" The teen shouted in reply, "I found a dog out by the pond! Can we keep her in the barn!?"
Sirius looked from the teen, to the figure who was apparently his grandmother, and back. Wait…barn? She needed to be the house, the warm dry house, not the smelly barn! Icky, it was probably full of pigs – Sirius hated pigs. The mean little rubbish-eaters, she was pretty sure most of her squib relatives were fed to that drove of them out at the old country house. Looking up at the teen, Sirius gave a whine of pathetic misery.
The teen chuckled and gave her a short pat on the head, "Oh, you want to come inside, don't you?"
"As long as it keeps away from the pigs!" Shouted the grandmother in reply.
For fuck's sake – Sirius looked up at the teen with her best puppy-dog expression.
"After a bath," Said the teen, giving a chuckle, "The barn'll be fine just for tonight, girly."
Sirius gave a canine huff – stupid kid, letting his gran bully him. It was just like old Frank Longbottom and his mum. So what if she was a little dirty? She still needed to be warm and dry…and not bothered by a load of bloody pigs. A sigh escaped her canine nostrils, well, she couldn't exactly do anything about it now could she? Sirius was a wandless witch among muggles…and pigs, horrid, horrid pigs.
She sighed again, and began to walk towards the large but plain-looking barn off to the right of the house. Stilling her tail, Sirius attempted to look as mournful and dejected as possible while she walked away from Ducky.
There was a chuckle from behind her, "Hunker down girly and I'll nab you some of gran's cottage pie." The teen gave an odd sort of huffing sound, and added in a mutter, "Why the hell am I talkin' to a dog?"
Oh dear, Sirius always had been a sucker for a silver-tongued…person. She involuntarily licked her chops, a piece of cottage pie – she should be able to stomach one pig-filled night for that possibility, right?
Sirius began happily prancing towards the barn. But who cared about the pigs? There were rumours of cottage pie about!
She heard a rumour.
It was just a rumour.
What have they done to her?
Oh…Sirius loved that song! Arabian Knights. Merlin, Siouxsie truly was the muggle world's greatest gift to all humanity.
Wait, what was she thinking of again? Right, the…the cottage pie!
She was going to get cottage pie! Or…wait, then again, that was only if the muggle snot came through on his promise. And judging from James and Remus' behaviour while they were at Hogwarts…that, well that was doubtful. For all Sirius knew the brat had one of those muggle smut magazines…or playing cards, like the set Lily gifted her that one year.
Oh shite, didn't she have those on her when…shit, she did! Shite, shite, shite! Her precious pornographic playing cards, the poor dears were either rotting in evidence or rotting in some rando auror's dresser. That was so fucked, everything was so fucked…well, except the cottage pie.
Thunder flashed and lightning rolled in the sky above, illuminating the approaching barn for just a brief second. Sirius glanced over her shoulder, Ducky was steadily making his way up to the stone farmhouse – that little snot better come through…or she'd just have to figure out how to do the bat-bogey hex wandlessly.
Sirius strode through the slight gap between the barn's door and the doorway, and was immediately met by the overwhelming stench of pig…and manure, oh so much manure. She sneezed involuntarily and shook her head. Icky! She knew it would be icky! Merlin's bloody tits – it smelled like those two bog-mummified quintapeds Professor Kettleburn made them dissect in Fifth Year!
A pretty good class all 'round – Sirius got to throw a mummified eyeball into Rufina Lestrange's hair. Her screams of terror ended up being more than worth the week of detention.
That was beside the point, though, because the barn was icky! Icky like the…the townhouse. Good Merlin, now that was a place Sirius hoped beyond hope she'd never return to. Grimmauld was probably even worse than she remembered – Kreacher couldn't possibly still be around? To her knowledge, the vile little creature was around three or four-hundred years old. One of the few human guards told her a few years into her imprisonment that dearest mother had sadly passed on. So him, Kreacher? He just had to be dead.
Right?
Right?
But who cared? Sirius was never setting foot back there anyway, the horrid place could burn down for all she cared…In fact, burning it down, that sounded like something she should consider in the near future. After all, Sirius was an evil dark witch who, uh…ground muggles up to make her bread!…Or something. She seemed to recall the Prophet saying something like that about the Knights of Walpurgis.
Sirius gave a canine sigh while lightning crashed and thunder rumbled in the clouds overhead – several seconds passed and slowly, raindrops began to sprinkle down upon her, soaking into her matted fur. Ah, screw the smell. With another sigh, she finally trotted off into the barn as a steady pitter-patter on the structure's metal roof began ringing in her sensitive ears. Stupid kid, stupid barn, Sirius should have been in that lovely house! Not rooming with a load of icky, icky pigs. Where exactly were those…things anyway?
Casting her gaze around the darkened barn, she found that roughly half of it had been fenced off. Good, that must have been the pig pen. Sorry ickle piggies, no Padfoot for you to nibble! Sirius huffed out a laugh, and found her way over to a large pile of straw in the corner.
She pawed around a bit before instinctively circling several times. When the dog part of her mind at last deemed the straw worthy she finally plopped down, and with a canine sigh rolled onto her side. Now to play the waiting game.
The bed of straw was actually quite lovely…in comparison to the stone slabs and chains and general horror of Azkaban. Sirius stretched out her aching legs as she released yet another canid sigh, she could get used to this. Well, she sort of had to get used to it, considering…circumstances.
Sirius drew in a breath of foul pig-air, she saw quite a few barns in her future, at least until September. But then again, that was only if she made it to said month – while it was true the British Ministry's leadership was made up of a largely incompetent pureblood pseudo-nobility, the same was not true for most other magical nations.
Without a wand Sirius was utterly powerless against whomever any one of a dozen magical countries would send – by the close of August she could have hit-wizards, KMGB assassins, UFNA special-aurors, or worse, ambushing her at every turn. Well, but then again…again, the Ministry did have a rather long history of refusing to comply with the I.C.W. 's Articles of International Law Enforcement – once more due to the aforementioned pureblood pseudo-nobility.
So who the bloody hell knew? Sirius might have Venetians after her…or something.
Giving another sigh, Sirius nuzzled into the straw and allowed her eyes to slide shut. Merlin, she hadn't realised how very tired she was. Her whole body ached and howled unrelentingly with the screams of a hundred worn-out muscles. From the pads on her paws to the tips of her big triangular ears, everything ached. Who knew braving two miles of the North Sea could make one so tired?
Sirius felt her ears perk up involuntarily as the pigs stirred, damn creatures. How could she expect to…to fall asleep – a canine yawn escaped her mouth. Pulling in her legs as a cold gust of air blew into the barn through the partially-opened door, Sirius nuzzled further into the straw.
And just like that sleep steadily sank its claws into her mind, and dragged her down and down, until Sirius floated adrift on the endless ocean of unconsciousness.
/ / / / / / / /
Location: Stamford Bridge, East Riding of Yorkshire, England, United Kingdom of Magical Britain
Date: November 7th, 1979 AD
Panting, Sirius took cover behind one of Stamford Bridge's few remaining brick walls and looked down at the deep tear carved through her dress and across her right forearm. Shite, that was going to scar, wasn't it? She pressed the tip of her wand into the wound, "Fluenta Mortis." Sirius murmured, instantly ceasing the flow of gushing blood with a flash of reddish light.
The duel wasn't so fun any more…it hadn't been, not since Sirius began catching the faint scent of charred flesh and bone. All those innocent muggles…gone.
She heard Rosier give a wild laugh, "Oh, did that hurt?!" He mocked with yet another laugh, "Come on out, blood-traitor! You're not hiding now, are you?!"
Arrogant little shit – Sirius smirked ruefully, "Truly a teenager's mindset!" She replied while carefully edging along the brick wall, "I'll bet all your mates back at the clubhouse just love you!" Stepping over a burned roof beam, Sirius came to a halt as the sound of Rosier's footsteps began echoing throughout the silent village.
She raised her wand towards the burned roof beam and slashed it in a swift motion that sent burning stabs of pain racing down her forearm. The beam made an odd sort of whizzing sound as it instantaneously shot up and over the brick wall, landing several seconds later with a terrific wobbling crash.
"Confringo!"
Apparating away with a whiplike crack, Sirius narrowly avoided getting blown up alongside the brick wall. Mere seconds later she appeared directly behind Rosier and jabbed her wand towards his torso, "Lancerio – Desurio!" Sirius cast in quick succession.
Rosier, who sported several oozing wounds across his body, snapped his wand upwards, deflecting the two spells with twin echoing clangs. In an instant the young Knight disappeared with a crack, only to immediately reappear a ways down the melted, glass-strewn road. He gave a cruel smirk and raised his wand towards her, "Dear me, all such dark magic, Black. Whatever would our dearest headmaster say if he were to see this?"
Sirius merely returned his smirk and began to wave her wand in a swirling motion. Hellish yellowish-red flames welled up like a thick liquid from the tip of her wand, and quickly grew to about the size of a quaffle. With a whipping motion, she pitched the swirling roaring ball of flame directly towards Rosier.
The Knight dove aside as the sphere bounded across the melted asphalt like a stone skipping on a pond. Rosier quickly rolled into a kneeling position, and whipped his wand towards her, "Ossulidio!" He cast.
Flicking her wand, Sirius nonverbally raised a knockback shield as the bright blue bone-shattering curse lanced towards her. Mere seconds afterwards, the curse impacted with a great echoing clang that kicked like a bull against Sirius' wand hand.
Rosier only had enough time for his eyes to widen before the knockback part of the knockback shield took effect, and he was abruptly launched backwards as if struck by a speeding muggle car.
"Oh, did that hurt, ickle Rozzie?" Sirius mocked, purposefully echoing what Rosier had said earlier. She swiftly jabbed her wand towards the tumbling, rolling form of the young Knight.
A great flash of deep green light exploded from the tip of her wand, and Rosier was suddenly yanked to a stop and abruptly hauled upwards by his ankles. Ha! Sirius' smirk widened as his black robes submitted to the force of gravity, and began hanging down over his face. Thank Merlin he was wearing trousers.
Rosier snarled as he attempted to hold his wand while also attempting to keep his robes out of his face. Once semi-free, he slashed his wand towards Sirius in an 'L' sort of movement, and with a lightning-esque crackling a jet of evil purplish light rocketed outwards.
Cancelling the dangling jinx, Sirius jerked her wand upwards and raised a shield charm. She effortlessly blocked the purplish curse as Rosier dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks – giving a snarling grunt that dripped with pain and humiliation, he quickly scrambled to his feet and resumed a duelling position.
"Have a nice trip, ickle one?" Sirius asked innocently, "Ready to run home to Mummy Voldemort yet?"
Rosier sneered, "You…blood-traitors, mudbloods – all of you dare time and time again to speak his name from unworthy mouths." He raised his wand, "It's…tiring. Confringo!"
Sirius flicked her wand upwards, re-raising her shield charm, "Voldemort! Vol-de-mort! Voldy-mort! Voldemort, Voldemort, Volde-!" A great clanging boom rang out when the blasting curse impacted the charm.
"Avada Kedavra!" Rosier swiftly followed-up and jabbed his wand directly towards her chest.
Diving to the side as a terrific flash of sickly yellowish-green light illuminated the destroyed village, Sirius rolled to her knees then sprung to her feet. While the stray killing curse exploded against the broken remnant of a chimney, she stabbed her wand towards Rosier's head, "Confoculio!"
There was a bright flash of deep reddish light from the tip of her wand, and a jet of the same colour lanced outwards with the speed of a racing broom. In an instant, Rosier released a ragged cry and swiftly doubled-over, clapping a hand over his right eye while thick sticky blood began dribbling out between his fingers. Sirius released a low, mocking laugh as the young Knight hopped around like a flea, howling with unimaginable pain and clutching helplessly at his gushing eye.
What could she say? She was a Black – people in agony were just something Sirius and most of her family found entertaining…But especially her and cousin Bella. And dearest mother always had a weird thing going on with Kreacher now that she thought about it, the mean little wanker.
Sirius jabbed her wand towards Rosier, "Crucio!" She cast semi-jokingly – probably couldn't even cast it anymore.
She felt her eyes widen when Rosier abruptly collapsed to the ground, shaking and screaming in complete and utter agony. Oh, she could. Sirius swiftly cancelled the spell…well, it appeared she was still a sadist. She wasn't too sure why she thought that would change…cousin Bella didn't change after briefly dating that muggleborn in school.
Letting out a short breath, Sirius walked a little ways over to the shaking teenager and leaned down, "First time being crucioed, ickle Rozzie?" She questioned mockingly.
"Piss off," Rosier gritted out in between panting breaths, "Blood-traitor – the Dark Lord-"
"-Is a coward who's never attended these little muggle-killing escapades of yours?" Sirius finished with a wide but ultimately cruel smile, "If that's the case – yes, I most assuredly agree, ickle Rozzie."
"No," Spat Rosier, "He's going to kill you – all of you. You've got no hope against him, not even with Dumbledore." The young Knight gave a small smile, "I've seen things, seen the wondrous effect of magics your lot would deem illegal, evil. Even if I fall, the immortal Lord Voldemort will always remain, and he shall avenge me, avenge every ounce of pure wizarding blood spilt across time."
Sirius gave a chuckling huff, "Merlin, have you lost it." She shook her head, "How do you ever find room for brains with all that shite stuffed in your head?"
"It's not shite!" Rosier shot back in a rather-petulant tone. He tried to haul himself up, only to collapse back to the ground with a cry of pain. Sirius sniggered at the display – post-exposure aches and shakes were a bitch, and she should know, after the utter hell that was her childhood.
"Aw, what's wrong, Rosier?" Sirius mocked, "I thought you were a big, scary follower of the Dark Lord like my cousin Bella." Before he could say anything in defence, she hit him with a nonverbal incarcerous, fully binding the Knight from his ankles to his mouth.
Sirius let out a breath she felt like she had been holding ever since the duel started. That was tough – his duelling style reminded her of…well, of course it would. Cousin Bella had to be one of the most talented duellists active in Europe – she even competed in a series of regional championships before that arsehole of a husband and his disturbingly-close sister convinced her to join the Great Dark Tosser.
Seriously…both of them were far too close.
What was she thinking of again? Oh right, Rosier – he had obviously been trained by cousin Bella. No doubt about it. Sirius tapped her wand against her chin in thought, poor cousin Bella, was she even happy? She seemed happy while competing in those duelling championships.
Releasing a short sigh, Sirius glanced down at the squirming Knight of Walpurgis…well, she likely did some time before anyone arrived. With another sigh, Sirius whirled around and promptly plopped down upon Rosier's chest – in response he let out a sort of grumbling snarl through the ropes gagging him…and in response to that, she covered his face with a decorative section of her voluminous hostess dress.
Sirius calmly reached into her black boho bag and withdrew a worn, half-open pack of Langston & Howell Reds. She closed her lips around the protruding filter of a cigarette, before pulling it from the pack. Rosier gave a muffled grunting sound as Sirius quickly tucked the pack back into her bag. She glanced down at the teen, then swiftly jabbed him in the ribs with her wand to silence him, before bringing it up to light the tip of her cig.
Taking a deep drag from the L&H as her wand disappeared into its holster, Sirius glanced down at the spot where Rosier's head lay beneath that section of her dress, "I hear Azkaban is utterly lovely this time of year – have you heard the same?" She questioned mostly-mockingly, and exhaled twin gusts of smoke through her nostrils.
Rosier gave a muffled, snarling sound in reply.
Sirius closed two fingers around the L&H and pulled it from her lips. She idly cast her gaze around at the destroyed village – Merlin's tits, how the hell was the Ministry going to cover this disaster up? A whole muggle village burned to the ground…with fiendfyre. Those poor sods at the Obliviation Corps were in for a rough few days.
No more buildings stood in what was once the village of Stamford Bridge – all that remained were the broken, burnt-out husks of brick buildings and their chimneys. The whole scene reminded Sirius of photos great aunt Vespa had taken in Dresden's magical district, towards the end of the Second Great War…Well, those and the posters Moody was currently tearing her hair out over. 'Fear the Muggle Atom Bomb' and 'THIS Is Muggle Cruelty,' that sort of fear-mongering rubbish.
Wizardkind could be as, if not more cruel than the muggles – this only proved it. Sirius brought the nearly half-gone L&H back to her lips and took a drag, while fiery smoke pooled in her lungs she cast another long look around at the ruined village. Muggle duels never ended like this – from what Lily told her, such things hadn't even happened since the mid-19th century.
Sirius gave a short, smoky exhale and glanced back down at Rosier…well, she hoped the arrogant little shit would enjoy his lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban – because he definitely deserved it.
A series of sharp cracks and soft pops abruptly began ringing out. A short ways down the road, shadowed figures appeared in time with the cracks and pops.
Finally – Sirius took one last drag from her cigarette and snuffed it out against the melted road. She swiftly rose to her feet, exhaling the smoke filling her lungs as the group of figures approached. The nearer they drew, the better she could make out just who had arrived – there were the obvious seven: Dumbledore's tall and thin, Remus' tall and harried, James' tall and handsome, Peter's not-so-tall and not-so…anything, and the Prewett twins' tall and…identicalness?
And then there were the randos, as Sirius liked to call them: Diggle, Doge, Bones, and Dung. She could only assume Dumbledore brought them into the fold due to the sheer lopsidedness in their abilities.
Diggle was an airhead who, though talented, was obsessed with astronomy and astromancy to an incredibly concerning degree. Doge was far too old and far too weak magically to be of use outside advising and negotiating. Bones was the new kid who hadn't done anything of note besides being the Head-Auror's little brother. And Dung…ah, old Dung, he was…well, he was Dung.
"I bagged you a biggun, Headmaster!" Sirius called out in an overly-thick 'cowboy' accent and gave Rosier a swift kick.
"What the bloody hell happened here, Padfoot?" James questioned as he came to a halt.
Sirius made a show of looking around at the utter devastation, "'Scuse me? Remus didn't tell you about the fiendfyre?"
"Remus told us that it had spread to several shops," Fabian Prewett retorted.
His twin brother Gideon gave a nod of agreement, "Yeah, not the whole bloody town, mate."
As he holstered his long, twin-sphered wand Dumbledore seemed to cast his gaze around at the destroyed muggle village – when he finally turned to Sirius, she found a visible gleam of sorrow in his brilliant blue eyes, "I…assume you have subdued Mister Rosier, Sirius?" He queried.
Sirius gave a nod and gestured towards the bound Knight. She noted with no small amount of enjoyment that once the Headmaster's gaze shifted to Rosier, the teen seemed to freeze in place, his bluish-gray eyes widening in what was unmistakably fear.
"Ah," Dumbledore uttered, giving a sole nod.
Remus suddenly rounded upon her, "You smell like smoke…again." He accused.
"So?" Sirius replied defensively.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Sirius. Smoking is a disgusting, unhealthy-" Remus started.
Sirius huffed, "And like I keep telling you, witches and wizards can't get cancer."
"But-"
"But nothing," Sirius snapped as she turned away from Remus, folding her arms across her chest. Merlin's saggy tits – why did he always have to go on about that? She had been smoking, so what? Remus wasn't her father, he certainly wasn't her mother…he wasn't even her nanny. The overbearing git had no say in what she could and could not do.
"Oh, quit acting like a bloody clucking mother hen, Remus," James drawled, "Padfoot takes down one of Voldemort's most infamous single-handedly, and all you can do is whinge about her indulging in some muggle habit."
Sirius opened her mouth to thank him.
"Even if said habit is sort of…dirty," James quickly admitted, "All that ash."
Remus let out a scoff, "Thank you."
"Traitor," Sirius groused as she kicked a chunk of melted brick down the road. So much for being her best mate – he had the nerve, she cleaned up after herself thank you very much!
"But still, mate, you're acting like her mother," James added…again.
"Sometimes I feel as if I am," Remus retorted dryly.
Sirius released a sound of derision and took several steps away from the group, "Oh piss off, Moony."
Dumbledore cleared his throat to get her, Remus, and James' attention, "I suggest you three handle this issue at a later date – Aella should be arriving with the Ministry in," He reached into his vibrant Byzantine purple robes and retrieved that odd twelve-handed pocket watch of his. Giving it a short scan, the Headmaster looked up and returned the watch to his robes, "Less than five minutes." He looked over at Sirius, "Are you injured?"
The Black heiress merely raised her blood-soaked right arm in reply.
Peter released a squeak, "Bloody hell." He muttered.
"Very apt, my good man," Gideon and Fabian said in perfect sync and as they clapped Peter on the back.
Sirius rolled her eyes and said dryly, "Rosier got me with some bloody cutting curse."
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles as he looked at the wound, a moment passed, then he gave a nod, "Indeed." The Headmaster calmly drew his wand and pointed it towards a broken bit of brick on the road, "Portus." He incanted and flicked his wand upwards, before looking up at Sirius while the bit of rubble flashed a bright blue and floated off the ground, "You head back to castle, Sirius. Poppy should be waiting for you in the hospital wing."
"Thanks," Sirius muttered as she cast a singular glance towards Remus, who still had a rather pointed look on his face. She rolled her eyes again, and turned to James, "Make sure to talk me up."
"Oh, that I shall, dear Padfoot," James responded with a smile, "Old Moody'll shed tears of pride by the time I've finished."
Sirius sniggered lightly and nodded, "I'll see you back at the townhouse, Prongsie." She spoke as she gave a smile of her own.
With one last, brief glance towards Remus, Sirius grabbed hold of the bit of brick floating several feet off the melted asphalt. Instantly, she felt the tell-tale sensation of something hooking her behind the navel and violently pulling her away. The ravaged village disappeared in a snap, and Sirius suddenly found herself rocketing away in a rush of churning colours and warped, droning noise.
As the portkey worked its magic and Sirius rocketed away – all around, something odd began to happen.
The churning swirling colours steadily became home to an array of dark black spots. Like oil being poured into paint they grew and grew, becoming larger in diameter with every passing moment. Soon, the spots had grown so large that they connected with each other, but still they grew.
Sirius found herself rendered speechless as the last bit of colour was swallowed up by a great pool of endless black. Before her eyes, the deep endless black then steadily began to shift, lightening, gaining a blue colour. What the bloody he?…Wait, oh, that was right.
A sudden sense of clairvoyance had draped itself over her mind like a fine down comforter – in an instant, she dully realised something in much the same fashion as she had done countless other times.
It was a dream…She was dreaming, dreaming and about to wake up.
Just as predicted, a mere second later consciousness steadily trickled into her mind to the tune of voices…and snorts, loads and loads of snorts. Sirius cracked her eye open as it all began coming back to her in a furious rush of information. Braving the North Sea, apparating into that pond, the muggle farm, the pig-filled barn.
Cracking her bleary eyes open, Sirius gave a canine yawn as she was immediately greeted with a view of several dusty roof beams. What a lovely dream…and she meant really lovely – it had been so very long since Sirius last duelled. And Merlin's tits, what a terrific one to recall! Sure, all those muggles…and Spurling…and those two other Knights got burnt up, but still…that was a duel! She still had no clue just how that arrogant little shit learned to control fiendfyre so well. Cousin Bella didn't teach him, she said so herself back in Azkaban!
Dearest cousin Bella – conversations with her across the hall were one of two things that kept Sirius marginally-sane whilst in that hellhole.
Sirius gave a second canine yawn and slowly hauled herself up from the straw pile. Casting a look around, she instantly noticed the twin figures standing in the barn's doorway. Oh…the muggles. What did they want? Prolly just to admire her sheer grace and elegance as a canine.
"What'd I tell ya dad?" Said one of the figures, very obviously that teen from the night previous…Ducky, "Nice looking dog, right?"
Oh…she was right. That had just been a joke but…how long was it since she'd been complimented? Right, twelve years, that's prolly why it felt so good. Sirius laid back down on the straw whilst continuing to look at the muggles in an especially dog-like fashion.
The taller and more rotund figure gave a slow nod and replied, "She'll need to be fixed if you expect to keep her, laddie."
Sirius paused, wait…what? Fixed? Like in the mental sense? She didn't think she needed fixing.
"Why does Poodie need to be fixed?" Asked a childlike voice from the same direction as the twin figures.
The second figure released a chuckle, "Already named her, have we, lass?"
"So she won't give us a load of mini-hers," Ducky replied.
"You mean puppies, Dicky?" Said the little girl.
Oh.
Oh dear…Oh Merlin…Oh Merlin's sagging tits! This must have been what Lily always threatened her with! Spowing! These muggles – they were going to cut out her ovaries and…and pickle them!
Sirius shot to her feet as her heart hammered against her ribcage and the twin figures in the barn's doorway froze. She stared at them and they stared at her, one, two, three moments passed before she bolted towards the pig pen. Hopping up on a stack of hay bales, Sirius leapt over the fence and landed amongst the drove of pigs. She took off, sliding between the icky, icky creatures as she bounded towards the outdoor section of the pigpen.
"Come on girly, wait!" She vaguely registered Ducky shout after her.
No thank you, muggle! In only a few bounds, Sirius reached the outdoor fence and swiftly dove into the gap between it and the ground. She squeezed through and emerged free on the other side, before once more taking off at top speed. Sorry mugglies, no organs for your brine!
Sirius huffed out a laugh and began bounding through the tall grass. She was free as a bird at…anytime really. Get ready Wormtail, you little fucking traitor! She couldn't wait to spill his guts – perhaps she would show them to the bloody rat as he died.
Ha! That was…oh dear, that was a lovely thought.
Now she just needed to make it real. With one last great bound through the grass, Sirius promptly disappeared accompanied by the tell-tale whiplike crack of apparition.
To Be Continued
Extra Clarification-
KMGB: Rus- Komitet Magicheskoy Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti Eng- Committee for Magical State Security(Security Agency of the Union of Soviet Socialist Magical Republics)
Author's Note Pt. IV(Final): There we go gentlemen, gentleladies, gentlepeople, we are at the end of the third installment of the My Aunt Hatty saga. I truly hope all you folks out there enjoyed it; and if you did please follow, favourite, bookmark, leave kudos, comment, any of those!...But comment especially…well go on, comment. Come on comment, comment, what are you chicken?