Chapter 24: Expelliarmus

To say that he was in shock would be putting it lightly.

As Sirius once again found himself staring at the eerily familiar face and bright green eyes of the young wizard in front of him, a sick feeling in his stomach. Of all the faces that he had expected or imagined to see beneath the ugly white mask, a face identical to that of a young James Potter was not one of them.

Sirius was not even aware of the noise and conversation that had erupted around him. He was too focused on the angry look plastered across the teenager's face… on Harry's face. Merlin, that felt strange to think about. He had spent many long and sleepless nights thinking of how everything would have been different had Harry still been alive… and now here he was right in front of him. Yet, Sirius could not help but think of his godson's possible fate at the hand of a dementor. He caught himself beginning to wonder if it would have been more of a mercy had Harry actually been killed all those years ago than to suffer an agonising death. Sirius suddenly shook his head, banishing that thought. He would have plenty of time to worry about Harry's future later. Now was not that time.

Besides, he thought grimly, I don't even know how much of my godson is even left.

The auror frowned as the teenager's bright green eyes met his. These were Lily's eyes, but unlike the witch, these ones were almost burning with fury. Sirius unconsciously reached up to touch the newly-healed wound on the side of his head, remembering the almost psychotic joy in Harry's eyes as he had tried to bludgeon him to death. His breath caught in his throat as he was suddenly hit with sorrow about what Lily would think when she eventually was reunited with her son… or even James for that matter.

If he isn't dead already.

Sirius took a deep breath to try and steady his emotions, doing his best to clear his mind. It had already been a long day and it was just going to continue. The auror was about to turn and look for Dumbledore to ask him what they should do next when he saw something flicker across the boy's face.

It only lasted a second, but before he had the chance to guess what it could have been, the teenager suddenly let out a muffled cry and squeezed his eyes shut as if he had just been struck. For a split second, Sirius wondered if the boy had been hit with some kind of spell before remembering the numerous counter-spell wards that Kingsley had put in place just hours ago.

No one else in the room seemed to have noticed that something was wrong with Harry, but an even louder strangled yell from the teenager changed that in an instant. At the sudden cry, all eyes turned to look at Harry who had now gone as white as a ghost. The dried blood on the side of his face only seemed to make the teen's parlor all the worse. It was clear for all to see that something was seriously wrong.

Sirius stood frozen in place as he watched the young wizard strain against his bonds, muscles bulging, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face. The veins in Harry's neck began to stand out as the boy's lips began to turn blue. He was strangling himself.

"Shit," Sirius choked out as he realised what was happening, already moving forward, "Harry?!"

But he received no response to his call. Instead, a raspy cry scraped past the boy's lips and a second later his body suddenly fell limp as consciousness seemed to desert him. Sirius reached him a moment later, instantly checking for a pulse.

"Fucking hell," someone muttered.

"Dawlish, call for a healer! Now!" came Kingsley's cry right after.

Sirius ignored the commotion, instead focusing on the rapid heartbeat beneath his fingers. Now that he was standing next to him, Sirius could see Harry's chest moving as he took in deep, ragged breaths. The only thing running through his mind was relief that Harry wasn't dead.

However, Sirius could now see that there was now a slow trickle blood fresh blood slowly running down the right side of the teenager's face. The auror carefully reached up and pushed back the dark fringe that covered the teenager's forehead so he could take a closer look at where the blood was stemming from… and what he saw puzzled him deeply.

There, hidden under the thick locks, was a red, inflamed scar on the boy's forehead. The skin seemed to have broken at some point and was slowly leaking blood. Sirius frowned, studying the injury, trying to figure out if it could have been the cause of Harry's unconsciousness. He was jolted from these thoughts by a hand coming to rest on his shoulder,

"An old wound?"

Sirius relaxed as he recognised the voice. He quickly shook his head, not taking his gaze away from the scar as he answered Kingsley,

"Looks to be that way. Possibly infected, I'd say. Must've split back open when he was struggling."

"Then he's just faking it all as a way to get sympathy from us," a gravely voice came from his other side, "Sneaky bastard."

Sirius ground his teeth as listened to Moody. He quickly took his hand away and let the fringe fall back into place, once again hiding the scar from view. The blood already seemed to be slowing and clotting so he figured that he would just leave it up to the healers to deal with. Besides, he didn't want Moody staring at it any longer and getting more ridiculous ideas.

Still, Sirius couldn't help but feel slightly concerned about what had triggered the scar to burst open, not to mention how it factored into the boy's current condition. Pain from an old scar, even infected, surely would not be enough to knock a person unconscious. There had to be something more… something that they couldn't see. Something was also nagging at the back of his mind, telling him that there was something more dangerous or evil going on with the teen.

From somewhere behind them, Sirius heard Dawlish call out that a healer was on his way from St. Mungo's. This was followed by a low growl from Moody about how they should just send him back because the kid was obviously fine and just putting on a show. Sirius had to bite back a harsh remark as he felt his temper flair.

Ever since he had learned that this was, in fact, his godson, he had suddenly grown strangely protective of the young wizard. Even if he himself had, not even twenty minutes earlier delivered the same scathing remarks about the boy.

"Healer'll be here in a minute, Black," Kingsley said softly, "Probably best to step back and give Harry some room until we know what's happened. I don't need you also getting hurt if this is the result of some potion or dark magic."

Sirius wanted to argue with the auror, but he had to admit that this probably was the case. He wouldn't put it past You-know-who to use his adopted son as some kind of test dummy. Even this thought made his blood boil.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius nodded stiffly, still feeling terribly conflicted about what he should do. He glanced back at Dumbledore, hoping that the elderly wizard would offer him some kind of reassurance. But instead, he saw that the man was simply standing in the same place as before, looking at Harry with an odd look in his eye.

He knows something, Sirius realised.

He quickly stepped away from Harry and strode over to Dumbledore, intent on demanding to know what was going on. But he had taken no more than two steps when the doors to the room burst open and Dawlish entered, escorting a rather flustered-looking healer. The man was dressed in the bright white and blue uniform of St. Mungo's and looked rather young to Sirius… a bit too young to be dealing with a medical emergency in the most secure cell in the Ministry. Suddenly all thoughts about talking with Dumbledore were pushed to the back of his mind as he watched the healer be led to Harry's side.

The healer set his bag down beside the chair before reaching up to feel for a pulse on Harry's neck. The man muttered something to himself before he knelt down to look for something he had brought with him.

Sirius watched closely before he felt a warm hand wrap around his arm.

"Come with me, Sirius," Dumbledore said softly, "I have gotten word that we are needed elsewhere."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sirius growled back, "Whoever it is that you want me to see can wait."

Dumbledore was quiet for a second before he said gently,

"It's James. We've found him."

Lucius Malfoy sighed as he stepped out of the fireplace in his chambers at the manor. He was utterly exhausted from the events of the day and all he wished to do now was to say hello to his wife and sleep. He shrugged off his formal robes before he tossed them onto a chair. He would have a house elf clean them for him later., right now he wanted a hot cup of tea before he delivered his report to the Dark Lord. This would also give him some time to think through what he was going to say. He had found where they were holding Harry and he knew the Dark Lord was not going to be happy.

The man snapped his fingers to summon one of the many house elves to come and serve him… but nothing happened. Lucius muttered a curse before trying again to no avail.

What in Merlin's name? He thought feeling suddenly angry.

There was no reason that he should not be able to call a house elf. No reason at all… unless. Lucius felt a sudden feeling of worry rush over him. There would be no reason he should not be able to call a house elf unless there was a magical lockdown in place. The wizard flicked his wand into his hand and cast a summoning charm on his robes. As he'd feared, nothing happened.

"Fuck," he spat, quickly stowing away his wand.

Something must have happened in the two hours he was away to trigger the Dark Lord to put a lockdown in place. This had happened only once before and if his memory still severed him correctly, that day had not ended well.

As if on command, a dull throb cut across the Dark Mark that lay hidden on his forearm. This was followed immediately by another sharp pain.

Lucius groaned as he realised that his relaxing evening had suddenly been ruined. The Dark Lord was calling, the manor was in lockdown, and he still hadn't had his cup of tea yet. This also meant that he would be forced to walk all the way down to the Great Hall instead of being able to apparate.

There was another sharp twinge in his arm leaving the man no other choice but to go and see what trouble had managed to befall his master in his short absence. With a loud curse, Lucius ripped the door to his chambers open and took off down the dark and twisting hallway.

It took him all of ten minutes to find his way down to the ground floor and to the door of the Great Hall. To his surprise, he had not seen only a handful of other Death Eaters, all of whom seemed to ignore him or hurry away. This struck Lucius as odd seeing as he had assumed that everyone had been summoned by their master… not just him.

His Dark Mark giving yet another painful throb, Lucius shoved open the heavy door to the Great Hall and found himself alone. The wooden door thudded shut behind him as he looked around at the large and very empty chamber. He suddenly began to worry that he had somehow gone to the wrong place.

"Lucius," a familiar cold voice hissed from directly behind him causing the wizard's heart to leap into his mouth.

"My lord," Lucius said turning swiftly and offering a deep bow, even as his heart thundered in his chest, "You called for me, my lord?"

"Obviously," the dark wizard spat, face hard and unreadable, "Where were you?"

This question surprised Lucius who sputtered,

"A-at the Ministry, my lord. You asked me to go and find where they are keeping your son and to see what his condition is."

"I know where I sent you," the man hissed, eyes darkening with anger, "I want to know why you did not come when I first called the others."

Lucius felt his face pale.

"I-I had no intention of ignoring you, my lord. Forgive me, but I did not receive any summons until I had arrived back at the manor just a couple of minutes ago."

As soon as he said this, Lucius could almost feel the temperature in the room plummet. He gazed into the Dark Lord's black eyes and instantly hissed as he felt the man start to shift through his memories of the past several hours. After what felt like hours, the icy sensation suddenly vanished from his mind, leaving him shivering on the stone floor. There was a deep silence as his master seemed to be trying to decide on something.

"My-my lord?" Lucius stuttered, pulling himself to his feet, "What is wrong? What is it that you need me to do?"

"Go back to the Ministry."

"What? You want me to return? For what purpose? I will risk being caught."

The Dark Lord's face darkened,

"You will go back and wait for further instructions. You will report back to me with any information that you hear regarding Harry or James Potter."

Lucius suddenly felt his blood turn to ice as he realised what must have happened.

"I will do as you ask, my lord," he said, bowing low.

The Dark Lord didn't respond for a moment. Lucius stood frozen in place, his head and shoulders bowed as he felt his master grow near.

"Oh and when you find Potter I want you to kill him," the Dark Lord growled in a low voice, "Kill him and whoever is with him and bring me their heads."

And with that, the dark wizard disapparated with a loud crack that seemed to shake the very walls of the manor. Lucius instantly raised his head, his face pale.

If the Dark Lord had lost the Auror Potter then he had lost his only bargaining chip to get Harry back.