Post by jaffaninja on Sept 24, 2012 17:39:40 GMT -5
This is the first chapter of a new fic I've started plotting, which will eventually be on fanfiction.net under my pen name RisingFromTheRuins. I'd really like to know what you guys think about it, and whether I should continue with this idea.
It's an AU where Voldemort told Bellatrix about his horcruxes, and took her with him that Hallowe'en. After seeing his defeat, she's a little unhinged and comes up with an insane plan to transfer the pieces of Voldemort's soul in the horcruxes to five children. It's explained in the chapter in more detail, and things get very complicated in the second one, but first I'd like to know if you guys like it and would want to keep reading.
So here it is:
Bellatrix Lestrange was the Dark Lord's most trusted Death Eater. Of all his followers, none but her had been told of his greatest secret: his horcruxes. She had made an unbreakable vow never to say anything about them, and to protect them at all costs. Also, only one other Death Eater knew about the prophecy - the spy, Severus Snape - and that was only because he had been the one to overhear it. But the Dark Lord had told her. Because she was his most trusted.
And Bellatrix was the only Death Eater present now. Her lord was about to destroy the boy of the prophecy, having killed the boy's parents less than a minute ago. This boy had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, according to the prophecy. Power he will never use, Bellatrix thought, mentally cackling vindictively. He would be too dead to do use any power, let alone vanquish the Dark Lord.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light hit the boy's forehead - but he did not crumple, eyes blank and lifeless, as his mother and father had done mere minutes before. The spell rebounded and struck Voldemort in the chest, and her lord let out a scream of agony that chilled Bellatrix's heart. And to her horror, he seemed to be disintegrating before her very eyes - his robes fell in a heap on the floor - the house was blown apart by the explosion of magic - and he was gone, his body had vanished, and his spirit had fled.
He had been defeated.
It was not possible. But it had happened, and she had been unable to stop it. The boy, Harry Potter, was not even two years old. But somehow, he had defeated the greatest sorcerer ever known. How? How had he done it?
She got to her feet, having been knocked over by the explosion, and dug through the wreckage to the boy's cot. He was quite silent, staring at the pile of robes, the ruins of the house, and his mother's body. He obviously did not understand what had happened, but it had fascinated him nevertheless. Bellatrix examined the boy, and noticed a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, where the curse had struck.
But the killing curse left no marks. Was there something more to this scar?
Bellatrix picked the boy up, trying not to recoil in revulsion. She hated children. But as she did so, she felt the dark mark on her left forearm twinge - albeit almost unnoticeably - but she almost dropped the brat in shock. There was something more to this! The scar was the mark of something else. Some connection to the Dark Lord...
She froze. No - no, he couldn't be - but every instinct was telling her she was right. Harry Potter was a horcrux, a living horcrux. She couldn't kill him now, because he had part of her lord's soul in him, irrevocably bound to his own soul. It could not be transferred to another vessel, by any ritual.
But would the light try to kill him? Some of them, the ones who believed in the 'Greater Good' might. Many, especially overprotective mothers, would be horrified at the thought. She leered at the thought. The light would be split, divided. And since her lord was immortal, when he rose again, they would not be able to fight him as one, and they would be crushed.
Unless the boy was killed before then. And if Albus Dumbledore had a hand in it, he might be. So how could she ensure her wasn't?
She couldn't. There was no one alive who was close to the boy, and who had a lot of influence. But what if she were to transfer the pieces of Voldemort's soul into other children? One child's death was one thing, but six... there would not be many willing to kill six children, even to assure the defeat of the Dark Lord.
It was as though someone had lit a fire in Bellatrix's mind: suddenly she had a purpose again, a way to protect the horcruxes, a way to serve her lord until he rose again. She would transfer them to the souls of children - people were always more protective of children, after all, for some reason - and then she would use the boy's blood in a rebirthing ritual, to resurrect her lord. It was the perfect plan.
Bellatrix allowed herself one tiny smirk. Just one, though. There was a long way to go to put her plan into action.
Suddenly there was a deafening roar and Sirius Black landed his flying motorcycle not twenty feet away. The first thing he saw was James Potter's body and he let out a howl of pain, sliding off his bike and crouching down beside his dead friend. Pathetic, really. She drew her wand out and prepared to apparate away - but before she could, he turned, and noticed four things at once - her, Lily's body, the pile of robes, and the child she was holding.
He started towards her, but she raised her wand to the child's head. "Not another step, dear cousin, unless you want me to kill the last of the Potters." She wouldn't, not now she knew what he was - but Black didn't know that. He stopped immediately, his expression showing nothing but pain.
Well, the man had just lost his best friend and his best friend's wife, and now she was threatening his godson. That was one of the reasons why Bellatrix didn't have friends. The other being that she was not a friendly person.
"Give him to me if you know what's good for you," Black snarled. He spoke with a hard edge in his voice. It was the voice of a man who had lost almost everything in the space of a few seconds.
Bellatrix merely laughed. "Now why would I do that? Give up the brat who caused my master's defeat? I don't think so, cousin." She spat the word. He was no cousin of hers, the filthy blood traitor.
Black's eyes widened almost comically and he glanced at the pile of robes and then back at his godson. "He defeated Voldemort?" he said, in a tone of disbelief.
"And he will pay," snarled Bellatrix in reply, pushing the wand further into the boy's temple. Harry whimpered in pain, his green eyes flashing with fear. "I will bring back the Dark Lord, and he will wish he had died tonight after all!"
"Leave him alone!" Black spat angrily, taking a step forward.
"Not another step," said Bellatrix warningly. "I'll do it, you know. I've got nothing to lose."
He stopped, and she managed not to sag with relief. He hadn't called her bluff. But she couldn't keep this up forever... how far away were the anti-apparition wards? They extended in a thirty-metre radius, she knew. Surely she could sprint that far without getting hit by a curse from her cousin's wand?
Bellatrix decided to risk it. Black was startled by her abrupt take-off and though his surprise only lasted one or two seconds, it was enough of a head start. Dodging two stunners, she reached the edge of the wards and disapparated, taking the child with her.
"No!" Sirius cried, but it was too late; she had gone. She had taken his godson. Two of his best friends had been killed. So many things had happened so quickly, and he couldn't help it. He broke down, sobbing. James was dead. Lily was dead. And now Harry was gone. The fact that Voldemort had been defeated hardly mattered. He was a broken man.
Sirius didn't know how long he cried for, but after a few minutes he felt a large hand on his shoulder and turned suddenly to see Hagrid, looking just as upset, standing behind him. "Are they -" the part-giant whispered hoarsely, not wanting to say the word that made it sound so final. Dead.
"Lily... and James..." Sirius managed. "Harry's alive... killing curse must have not worked on him or something... he defeated Voldemort. He's gone."
Hagrid had started when Sirius said 'Voldemort'. He said slowly, "You-Know-Who's gone? A little boy defeated 'im?"
"Bellatrix said so. She was there," said Sirius, before a fresh wave of grief almost overcame him. "Took Harry with her... I don't know where. I'm going after her. You can take my bike, I won't need it."
Hagrid looked like he was holding back tears himself. Finally he said gruffly, "Thank yeh, Sirius. Yeh go after yer godson. I'd best be telling Professor Dumbledore about this. Gallopin' gargoyles, what a mess..."
Sirius nodded mutely as Hagrid took the bike and flew off. He couldn't look at James' fallen form, nor Lily lying, cold and dead, in the ruins. They would be given a proper funeral. He would make sure of it. But for now, Dumbledore could deal with it. Bellatrix Lestrange - his most insane cousin - had his godson. She had to be dealt with first.
I'm coming, Harry, he vowed. I'm coming, and I'm never letting you get hurt again.
It was only a week before the Aurors caught up with them. He hadn't even considered that they might be chasing him, but of course, they all thought he had betrayed the Potters. Maybe he should have told Hagrid that Pettigrew, damn him to the darkest depths of hell, had been the Secret Keeper. But he'd been overcome by grief and guilt, and he was never one to think of the far-reaching consequences anyway.
And he still had not found his godson.
It had been a week. An entire week. Bellatrix could be doing Merlin knows what to Harry right now, and what was he doing? Sitting in a holding cell, waiting for questioning. Not a trial, since no one had proved he was a Death Eater yet, and they needed a crime to charge him with. Everyone seemed to think he was the spy, however. They just needed to prove it.
The newspapers were full of the story, of course. It was plastered all over the front page and about fifteen pages after that. A one-year-old child had defeated the darkest sorcerer ever known, then been kidnapped. And, of course, now the supposed traitor had been caught.
He couldn't wait to see the expressions on their faces when they found out he was not.
Briefly, Sirius wondered if perhaps grief, desperation, and several sleepless nights had driven him mad. It was possible. But not worth dwelling on right now. The door to his cell was clanking open.
He didn't recognise the Auror and he didn't introduce himself. The Auror dragged in a chair and then stood off to the side, his wand clutched firmly in his hand. "Don't try anything, Black," he warned, and there was a trace of loathing in his voice.
Apparently Sirius didn't get a chair, because the next person to come in simply sat down on the only one available. He caught sight of the corridor for a short moment as the door swung open to let said person in, and he spotted a few familiar faces. The Order, a few Aurors, even Minister Bagnold was out there. Her last act as minister, probably. How soon was her term over? And Remus was there, of course.
The werewolf looked confused. Obviously, he didn't want to believe Sirius was the traitor. He felt a small smile quirk his lips as his interrogator slammed the door shut. Questioner, whatever. As far as he was concerned, they were the same thing.
"Auror Proudfoot, administer the veritaserum."
Proudfoot, was it? Sirius looked at the Auror in question as Proudfoot fished a small vial from his pocket and strode purposefully towards him. Being chained up, there was no way for Sirius to resist even if he had wanted to. But he did want to. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Harry needed him.
He took the few drops of veritaserum without complaint. Surprise flitted briefly across Proudfoot's face before it returned to its schooled mask of neutrality. He obviously hadn't expected Sirius to comply.
"Fire away," said Sirius, looking up at his questioner. It was Barty Crouch Senior. Of course. Who else but the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would question him? Didn't he have better things to do? Apparently not.
Crouch's eyes narrowed, but he began. "What is your name?"
Standard practice. "Sirius Orion Black," he stated.
"Were you a friend of James and Lily Potter?" asked Crouch.
Sirius felt his heart clench in pain. "Yes," he said, much quieter than before. Hearing their names brought on a fresh wave of sorrow.
Crouch didn't appear to care. "Were you their Secret Keeper? Did you betray them to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
The crucial questions. He paused for a second, gathering his thoughts, before the veritaserum forced him to answer. "I was their Secret Keeper... originally. I convinced them to switch to Peter, so the Death Eaters would come after me. I did not betray them. That was Peter."
Sirius glanced up, looking to see what effect his words had on the two. Crouch's expression had not changed, but Proudfoot's eyes widened with surprise. He was only a young Auror, after all, not yet so good at hiding his emotions before his expression changed. He'd learn. Probably.
Crouch looked him in the eye and asked the last question. "Are you a Death Eater, or in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
Crouch probably already knew the answer. But this was a man who did everything by the book.
"No," Sirius replied, and Crouch nodded, getting up and striding out of the small cell.
"Release him, Auror Proudfoot," he called over his shoulder, as if on an afterthought. The Auror nodded, looking a little bewildered by this turn of events, and took out the key.
Remus was apologising profusely for ever suspecting him before Sirius was even fully unchained. The tiny smile crept onto his face again at the sight of his friend. Really, how could they have ever suspected each other?
"Shut up, Moony," said Sirius, as Remus opened his mouth to make another apology. "You don't have to be sorry for anything."
"Yes, I do," said Remus stoutly, but Sirius shook his head.
"No, you don't," he said. "None of this is your fault." He turned to face Dumbledore, now Crouch seemed to have finished his explanation of the questioning. "Am I free now? Can I go after my godson?"
"We already have people searching -" began Dumbledore, but Sirius cut him off.
"How many people? Don't you have most people rounding up Death Eaters? How many are actually looking for him?" he demanded. He knew every second he spent arguing was wasting time he could be looking for Harry, but if he convinced Dumbledore to get more people to search for him, maybe they could find him faster.
"Remus was," said Dumbledore quickly. "So am I, and everyone's on the lookout -"
"Remus was?" interrupted Sirius, looking over at his friend again.
Remus scowled slightly, but grief was marring the expression. "Ran into Dolohov. Not sure who came away worst off." He did look very pale, Sirius noticed, and his fists were clenched, maybe against the pain.
"You should be resting," Sirius said, concern rising up in him.
The werewolf shook his head. "I can't. Harry's out there. Peter's out there. The rest of the Death Eaters are too. I have to do something, Padfoot, even if I can't go out hunting for them."
"Remus, listen to Sirius," said Dumbledore calmly. "Your leg will only heal if you rest it."
"Don't worry," said Sirius softly. "I'll track down the bad guys."
His friend hesitated once more, but then nodded. "Alright," he said quietly. "And when you find the she-devil that took Harry, give her a -"
"Don't worry," he cut in. "I will."
As he was leaving, Auror Proudfoot called out to him. "Wait."
He turned, and the Auror handed him back his wand. He felt his face flush. How could he have almost walked out of the ministry without it?
Proudfoot gave him a searching look before saying, "If you want to know... a lone Death Eater was sighted just hours ago. No one knows if it was her, but -"
"Tell me where," Sirius snapped. Proudfoot nodded, and did so.
Coming, Harry, he thought. Still coming.
There.
She was staying there, in that tiny shack. Sirius could see her wild, dark hair through the grimy window. Finally - finally - after over two months of searching, he had found her. The question was whether Harry was all right. Bellatrix was mad - what did she know about keeping a child healthy?
He raised his wand and blasted open the door. The anti-apparition wards were already down. She would not escape this time. This time, he had her cornered. His wand was already raised, even as she turned sharply at the crash and raised her own.
And there they stood, holding each other at wandpoint, two different types of madness in their eyes. Sirius' gaze flicked briefly over to the small boy in the corner of the shack. Harry's usually bright eyes were dull, and he looked pale. He was also too skinny for a toddler, but other than that, he appeared to be fine.
"I knew you would come," Bellatrix whispered, her breath coming faster. "I knew you'd come for your precious godson. I knew it."
"If you knew," Sirius said, striving for calm - he didn't want Harry to be afraid of him - "why are you still here?"
She let out a loud cackle of laughter, as though she found his question amusing. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the small boy tense at the sound, his eyes flashing with fear, and his grip tightened on his wand, his free hand curling into a fist. If she had so much as raised her wand on his godson, he would make her pay.
"I knew you were coming," she said, between breaths, "but not when, dearest cousin. You're too late, though. Much too late. I've done it."
She sounded completely insane. She was insane before, but the defeat of her master and two months with no one but a toddler to talk to probably hadn't helped. "What are you talking about?" he snapped out.
A smirk lit her features, and it was all Sirius could do not to throw his wand away and punch her on the face, just to get rid of it. "There's six of them now, yes, six! Six of them with a lighting scar! That brat -" she gestured to Harry with her free hand "- was already one of them, so I transferred the others. Now they're safe! You could never kill a child, could you? A baby, a toddler, what does it matter? You wouldn't kill one, even if it was a horcrux, would you?"
It sounded as though she was trying to taunt him, but it would have been far more effective if he knew what a horcrux was. Sirius was sure he'd heard the word before - it was probably dark magic - but he didn't know what. It was frustrating.
"Stop talking in riddles," he snarled, raising his wand a little higher. "Tell me what you mean."
"Where are your manners, dear cousin? Surely Walburga taught you better," Bellatrix goaded. "And these are not riddles. They are truth. I did it, and there's nothing you can do now! They're intertwined, and you have to kill them to get rid of it!" She was cackling with glee again, and the manic glint in her eyes was brighter than it was before.
"You are making no sense, and you'd better start making some, or I'll -"
"Now, now," chided Bellatrix. "No threats from you, dear cousin. You need to be able to back them up."
"A team of Aurors is on the way," said Sirius. "You'll go to Azkaban."
Bellatrix let out her loudest laugh yet. "Throw me in there, I will wait! I was faithful! I searched for him! And he will rise again, and I will be rewarded for my loyalty!"
She really is insane, thought Sirius drily. She sounded almost fanatical. "You're trapped. You've lost," he told her.
"Have I?" she murmured, so low he could barely hear it. "I did not find my lord. That is true. I could not use the brat's blood, could not revive him..." And then the gleam of madness was back, and her voice rose, became more audible. "But I did it, didn't I? I transferred the horcruxes. There's six of them now, and no one will kill them, no one!"
"Stupefy!" Sirius shouted, sick of her rambling, and sick of waiting. She wasn't expecting it, too caught up in her insanity, and she didn't quite get her shield up in time. The stunner stuck her in the chest and she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
He heard footsteps and turned to see the Aurors had arrived at last. "Dear Merlin," one of them whispered, his eyes flicking from Harry to Sirius to Bellatrix, and back again. "The newspapers were right."
"Make sure she's bound," instructed another. Her voice was more commanding, and the others obeyed without question. "Bring me her wand."
Sirius left the Aurors to it, stepping closer to the dark-haired boy who was still hunched up in the corner, knees drawn tight to his chest. "Harry, are you alright?" he whispered quietly. He wasn't sure Harry fully understood, but the small boy nodded quickly, seeming to shrink further into the corner.
Sirius slowly reached out to him and drew him into a hug. Harry stiffened at first, then relaxed into his godfather's chest, and started to cry. Sirius rubbed circles on the small boy's back, whispering soothingly to him. "It's all right, Harry. You're safe now. Padfoot's got you."
"Pa'foot?" the boy whispered, snuggling closer to him.
"Yes, Harry," he replied.
"Safe?" Harry asked quietly. His voice was urgent and slightly fearful, and Sirius has to resist the urge to go over and stomp of Bellatrix's face, hard. He took a deep breath and calmed down. Harry needed him.
Sirius nodded to answer Harry's question, then realised Harry couldn't see it. "Yes, Harry. And I'm going to make sure no one ever hurts you again."
The tiniest smile crept onto Harry's face. It wasn't much, but for now, it was enough.
Harry was safe. Sirius had his godson back.
How was it? Would you be interested in reading another chapter? Please tell me what you thought, even if you hated it.
It's an AU where Voldemort told Bellatrix about his horcruxes, and took her with him that Hallowe'en. After seeing his defeat, she's a little unhinged and comes up with an insane plan to transfer the pieces of Voldemort's soul in the horcruxes to five children. It's explained in the chapter in more detail, and things get very complicated in the second one, but first I'd like to know if you guys like it and would want to keep reading.
So here it is:
Six Lightning Scars
Chapter One: Godfather
Chapter One: Godfather
Bellatrix Lestrange was the Dark Lord's most trusted Death Eater. Of all his followers, none but her had been told of his greatest secret: his horcruxes. She had made an unbreakable vow never to say anything about them, and to protect them at all costs. Also, only one other Death Eater knew about the prophecy - the spy, Severus Snape - and that was only because he had been the one to overhear it. But the Dark Lord had told her. Because she was his most trusted.
And Bellatrix was the only Death Eater present now. Her lord was about to destroy the boy of the prophecy, having killed the boy's parents less than a minute ago. This boy had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, according to the prophecy. Power he will never use, Bellatrix thought, mentally cackling vindictively. He would be too dead to do use any power, let alone vanquish the Dark Lord.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light hit the boy's forehead - but he did not crumple, eyes blank and lifeless, as his mother and father had done mere minutes before. The spell rebounded and struck Voldemort in the chest, and her lord let out a scream of agony that chilled Bellatrix's heart. And to her horror, he seemed to be disintegrating before her very eyes - his robes fell in a heap on the floor - the house was blown apart by the explosion of magic - and he was gone, his body had vanished, and his spirit had fled.
He had been defeated.
It was not possible. But it had happened, and she had been unable to stop it. The boy, Harry Potter, was not even two years old. But somehow, he had defeated the greatest sorcerer ever known. How? How had he done it?
She got to her feet, having been knocked over by the explosion, and dug through the wreckage to the boy's cot. He was quite silent, staring at the pile of robes, the ruins of the house, and his mother's body. He obviously did not understand what had happened, but it had fascinated him nevertheless. Bellatrix examined the boy, and noticed a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, where the curse had struck.
But the killing curse left no marks. Was there something more to this scar?
Bellatrix picked the boy up, trying not to recoil in revulsion. She hated children. But as she did so, she felt the dark mark on her left forearm twinge - albeit almost unnoticeably - but she almost dropped the brat in shock. There was something more to this! The scar was the mark of something else. Some connection to the Dark Lord...
She froze. No - no, he couldn't be - but every instinct was telling her she was right. Harry Potter was a horcrux, a living horcrux. She couldn't kill him now, because he had part of her lord's soul in him, irrevocably bound to his own soul. It could not be transferred to another vessel, by any ritual.
But would the light try to kill him? Some of them, the ones who believed in the 'Greater Good' might. Many, especially overprotective mothers, would be horrified at the thought. She leered at the thought. The light would be split, divided. And since her lord was immortal, when he rose again, they would not be able to fight him as one, and they would be crushed.
Unless the boy was killed before then. And if Albus Dumbledore had a hand in it, he might be. So how could she ensure her wasn't?
She couldn't. There was no one alive who was close to the boy, and who had a lot of influence. But what if she were to transfer the pieces of Voldemort's soul into other children? One child's death was one thing, but six... there would not be many willing to kill six children, even to assure the defeat of the Dark Lord.
It was as though someone had lit a fire in Bellatrix's mind: suddenly she had a purpose again, a way to protect the horcruxes, a way to serve her lord until he rose again. She would transfer them to the souls of children - people were always more protective of children, after all, for some reason - and then she would use the boy's blood in a rebirthing ritual, to resurrect her lord. It was the perfect plan.
Bellatrix allowed herself one tiny smirk. Just one, though. There was a long way to go to put her plan into action.
Suddenly there was a deafening roar and Sirius Black landed his flying motorcycle not twenty feet away. The first thing he saw was James Potter's body and he let out a howl of pain, sliding off his bike and crouching down beside his dead friend. Pathetic, really. She drew her wand out and prepared to apparate away - but before she could, he turned, and noticed four things at once - her, Lily's body, the pile of robes, and the child she was holding.
He started towards her, but she raised her wand to the child's head. "Not another step, dear cousin, unless you want me to kill the last of the Potters." She wouldn't, not now she knew what he was - but Black didn't know that. He stopped immediately, his expression showing nothing but pain.
Well, the man had just lost his best friend and his best friend's wife, and now she was threatening his godson. That was one of the reasons why Bellatrix didn't have friends. The other being that she was not a friendly person.
"Give him to me if you know what's good for you," Black snarled. He spoke with a hard edge in his voice. It was the voice of a man who had lost almost everything in the space of a few seconds.
Bellatrix merely laughed. "Now why would I do that? Give up the brat who caused my master's defeat? I don't think so, cousin." She spat the word. He was no cousin of hers, the filthy blood traitor.
Black's eyes widened almost comically and he glanced at the pile of robes and then back at his godson. "He defeated Voldemort?" he said, in a tone of disbelief.
"And he will pay," snarled Bellatrix in reply, pushing the wand further into the boy's temple. Harry whimpered in pain, his green eyes flashing with fear. "I will bring back the Dark Lord, and he will wish he had died tonight after all!"
"Leave him alone!" Black spat angrily, taking a step forward.
"Not another step," said Bellatrix warningly. "I'll do it, you know. I've got nothing to lose."
He stopped, and she managed not to sag with relief. He hadn't called her bluff. But she couldn't keep this up forever... how far away were the anti-apparition wards? They extended in a thirty-metre radius, she knew. Surely she could sprint that far without getting hit by a curse from her cousin's wand?
Bellatrix decided to risk it. Black was startled by her abrupt take-off and though his surprise only lasted one or two seconds, it was enough of a head start. Dodging two stunners, she reached the edge of the wards and disapparated, taking the child with her.
"No!" Sirius cried, but it was too late; she had gone. She had taken his godson. Two of his best friends had been killed. So many things had happened so quickly, and he couldn't help it. He broke down, sobbing. James was dead. Lily was dead. And now Harry was gone. The fact that Voldemort had been defeated hardly mattered. He was a broken man.
Sirius didn't know how long he cried for, but after a few minutes he felt a large hand on his shoulder and turned suddenly to see Hagrid, looking just as upset, standing behind him. "Are they -" the part-giant whispered hoarsely, not wanting to say the word that made it sound so final. Dead.
"Lily... and James..." Sirius managed. "Harry's alive... killing curse must have not worked on him or something... he defeated Voldemort. He's gone."
Hagrid had started when Sirius said 'Voldemort'. He said slowly, "You-Know-Who's gone? A little boy defeated 'im?"
"Bellatrix said so. She was there," said Sirius, before a fresh wave of grief almost overcame him. "Took Harry with her... I don't know where. I'm going after her. You can take my bike, I won't need it."
Hagrid looked like he was holding back tears himself. Finally he said gruffly, "Thank yeh, Sirius. Yeh go after yer godson. I'd best be telling Professor Dumbledore about this. Gallopin' gargoyles, what a mess..."
Sirius nodded mutely as Hagrid took the bike and flew off. He couldn't look at James' fallen form, nor Lily lying, cold and dead, in the ruins. They would be given a proper funeral. He would make sure of it. But for now, Dumbledore could deal with it. Bellatrix Lestrange - his most insane cousin - had his godson. She had to be dealt with first.
I'm coming, Harry, he vowed. I'm coming, and I'm never letting you get hurt again.
It was only a week before the Aurors caught up with them. He hadn't even considered that they might be chasing him, but of course, they all thought he had betrayed the Potters. Maybe he should have told Hagrid that Pettigrew, damn him to the darkest depths of hell, had been the Secret Keeper. But he'd been overcome by grief and guilt, and he was never one to think of the far-reaching consequences anyway.
And he still had not found his godson.
It had been a week. An entire week. Bellatrix could be doing Merlin knows what to Harry right now, and what was he doing? Sitting in a holding cell, waiting for questioning. Not a trial, since no one had proved he was a Death Eater yet, and they needed a crime to charge him with. Everyone seemed to think he was the spy, however. They just needed to prove it.
The newspapers were full of the story, of course. It was plastered all over the front page and about fifteen pages after that. A one-year-old child had defeated the darkest sorcerer ever known, then been kidnapped. And, of course, now the supposed traitor had been caught.
He couldn't wait to see the expressions on their faces when they found out he was not.
Briefly, Sirius wondered if perhaps grief, desperation, and several sleepless nights had driven him mad. It was possible. But not worth dwelling on right now. The door to his cell was clanking open.
He didn't recognise the Auror and he didn't introduce himself. The Auror dragged in a chair and then stood off to the side, his wand clutched firmly in his hand. "Don't try anything, Black," he warned, and there was a trace of loathing in his voice.
Apparently Sirius didn't get a chair, because the next person to come in simply sat down on the only one available. He caught sight of the corridor for a short moment as the door swung open to let said person in, and he spotted a few familiar faces. The Order, a few Aurors, even Minister Bagnold was out there. Her last act as minister, probably. How soon was her term over? And Remus was there, of course.
The werewolf looked confused. Obviously, he didn't want to believe Sirius was the traitor. He felt a small smile quirk his lips as his interrogator slammed the door shut. Questioner, whatever. As far as he was concerned, they were the same thing.
"Auror Proudfoot, administer the veritaserum."
Proudfoot, was it? Sirius looked at the Auror in question as Proudfoot fished a small vial from his pocket and strode purposefully towards him. Being chained up, there was no way for Sirius to resist even if he had wanted to. But he did want to. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. Harry needed him.
He took the few drops of veritaserum without complaint. Surprise flitted briefly across Proudfoot's face before it returned to its schooled mask of neutrality. He obviously hadn't expected Sirius to comply.
"Fire away," said Sirius, looking up at his questioner. It was Barty Crouch Senior. Of course. Who else but the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement would question him? Didn't he have better things to do? Apparently not.
Crouch's eyes narrowed, but he began. "What is your name?"
Standard practice. "Sirius Orion Black," he stated.
"Were you a friend of James and Lily Potter?" asked Crouch.
Sirius felt his heart clench in pain. "Yes," he said, much quieter than before. Hearing their names brought on a fresh wave of sorrow.
Crouch didn't appear to care. "Were you their Secret Keeper? Did you betray them to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
The crucial questions. He paused for a second, gathering his thoughts, before the veritaserum forced him to answer. "I was their Secret Keeper... originally. I convinced them to switch to Peter, so the Death Eaters would come after me. I did not betray them. That was Peter."
Sirius glanced up, looking to see what effect his words had on the two. Crouch's expression had not changed, but Proudfoot's eyes widened with surprise. He was only a young Auror, after all, not yet so good at hiding his emotions before his expression changed. He'd learn. Probably.
Crouch looked him in the eye and asked the last question. "Are you a Death Eater, or in the service of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"
Crouch probably already knew the answer. But this was a man who did everything by the book.
"No," Sirius replied, and Crouch nodded, getting up and striding out of the small cell.
"Release him, Auror Proudfoot," he called over his shoulder, as if on an afterthought. The Auror nodded, looking a little bewildered by this turn of events, and took out the key.
Remus was apologising profusely for ever suspecting him before Sirius was even fully unchained. The tiny smile crept onto his face again at the sight of his friend. Really, how could they have ever suspected each other?
"Shut up, Moony," said Sirius, as Remus opened his mouth to make another apology. "You don't have to be sorry for anything."
"Yes, I do," said Remus stoutly, but Sirius shook his head.
"No, you don't," he said. "None of this is your fault." He turned to face Dumbledore, now Crouch seemed to have finished his explanation of the questioning. "Am I free now? Can I go after my godson?"
"We already have people searching -" began Dumbledore, but Sirius cut him off.
"How many people? Don't you have most people rounding up Death Eaters? How many are actually looking for him?" he demanded. He knew every second he spent arguing was wasting time he could be looking for Harry, but if he convinced Dumbledore to get more people to search for him, maybe they could find him faster.
"Remus was," said Dumbledore quickly. "So am I, and everyone's on the lookout -"
"Remus was?" interrupted Sirius, looking over at his friend again.
Remus scowled slightly, but grief was marring the expression. "Ran into Dolohov. Not sure who came away worst off." He did look very pale, Sirius noticed, and his fists were clenched, maybe against the pain.
"You should be resting," Sirius said, concern rising up in him.
The werewolf shook his head. "I can't. Harry's out there. Peter's out there. The rest of the Death Eaters are too. I have to do something, Padfoot, even if I can't go out hunting for them."
"Remus, listen to Sirius," said Dumbledore calmly. "Your leg will only heal if you rest it."
"Don't worry," said Sirius softly. "I'll track down the bad guys."
His friend hesitated once more, but then nodded. "Alright," he said quietly. "And when you find the she-devil that took Harry, give her a -"
"Don't worry," he cut in. "I will."
As he was leaving, Auror Proudfoot called out to him. "Wait."
He turned, and the Auror handed him back his wand. He felt his face flush. How could he have almost walked out of the ministry without it?
Proudfoot gave him a searching look before saying, "If you want to know... a lone Death Eater was sighted just hours ago. No one knows if it was her, but -"
"Tell me where," Sirius snapped. Proudfoot nodded, and did so.
Coming, Harry, he thought. Still coming.
There.
She was staying there, in that tiny shack. Sirius could see her wild, dark hair through the grimy window. Finally - finally - after over two months of searching, he had found her. The question was whether Harry was all right. Bellatrix was mad - what did she know about keeping a child healthy?
He raised his wand and blasted open the door. The anti-apparition wards were already down. She would not escape this time. This time, he had her cornered. His wand was already raised, even as she turned sharply at the crash and raised her own.
And there they stood, holding each other at wandpoint, two different types of madness in their eyes. Sirius' gaze flicked briefly over to the small boy in the corner of the shack. Harry's usually bright eyes were dull, and he looked pale. He was also too skinny for a toddler, but other than that, he appeared to be fine.
"I knew you would come," Bellatrix whispered, her breath coming faster. "I knew you'd come for your precious godson. I knew it."
"If you knew," Sirius said, striving for calm - he didn't want Harry to be afraid of him - "why are you still here?"
She let out a loud cackle of laughter, as though she found his question amusing. Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw the small boy tense at the sound, his eyes flashing with fear, and his grip tightened on his wand, his free hand curling into a fist. If she had so much as raised her wand on his godson, he would make her pay.
"I knew you were coming," she said, between breaths, "but not when, dearest cousin. You're too late, though. Much too late. I've done it."
She sounded completely insane. She was insane before, but the defeat of her master and two months with no one but a toddler to talk to probably hadn't helped. "What are you talking about?" he snapped out.
A smirk lit her features, and it was all Sirius could do not to throw his wand away and punch her on the face, just to get rid of it. "There's six of them now, yes, six! Six of them with a lighting scar! That brat -" she gestured to Harry with her free hand "- was already one of them, so I transferred the others. Now they're safe! You could never kill a child, could you? A baby, a toddler, what does it matter? You wouldn't kill one, even if it was a horcrux, would you?"
It sounded as though she was trying to taunt him, but it would have been far more effective if he knew what a horcrux was. Sirius was sure he'd heard the word before - it was probably dark magic - but he didn't know what. It was frustrating.
"Stop talking in riddles," he snarled, raising his wand a little higher. "Tell me what you mean."
"Where are your manners, dear cousin? Surely Walburga taught you better," Bellatrix goaded. "And these are not riddles. They are truth. I did it, and there's nothing you can do now! They're intertwined, and you have to kill them to get rid of it!" She was cackling with glee again, and the manic glint in her eyes was brighter than it was before.
"You are making no sense, and you'd better start making some, or I'll -"
"Now, now," chided Bellatrix. "No threats from you, dear cousin. You need to be able to back them up."
"A team of Aurors is on the way," said Sirius. "You'll go to Azkaban."
Bellatrix let out her loudest laugh yet. "Throw me in there, I will wait! I was faithful! I searched for him! And he will rise again, and I will be rewarded for my loyalty!"
She really is insane, thought Sirius drily. She sounded almost fanatical. "You're trapped. You've lost," he told her.
"Have I?" she murmured, so low he could barely hear it. "I did not find my lord. That is true. I could not use the brat's blood, could not revive him..." And then the gleam of madness was back, and her voice rose, became more audible. "But I did it, didn't I? I transferred the horcruxes. There's six of them now, and no one will kill them, no one!"
"Stupefy!" Sirius shouted, sick of her rambling, and sick of waiting. She wasn't expecting it, too caught up in her insanity, and she didn't quite get her shield up in time. The stunner stuck her in the chest and she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
He heard footsteps and turned to see the Aurors had arrived at last. "Dear Merlin," one of them whispered, his eyes flicking from Harry to Sirius to Bellatrix, and back again. "The newspapers were right."
"Make sure she's bound," instructed another. Her voice was more commanding, and the others obeyed without question. "Bring me her wand."
Sirius left the Aurors to it, stepping closer to the dark-haired boy who was still hunched up in the corner, knees drawn tight to his chest. "Harry, are you alright?" he whispered quietly. He wasn't sure Harry fully understood, but the small boy nodded quickly, seeming to shrink further into the corner.
Sirius slowly reached out to him and drew him into a hug. Harry stiffened at first, then relaxed into his godfather's chest, and started to cry. Sirius rubbed circles on the small boy's back, whispering soothingly to him. "It's all right, Harry. You're safe now. Padfoot's got you."
"Pa'foot?" the boy whispered, snuggling closer to him.
"Yes, Harry," he replied.
"Safe?" Harry asked quietly. His voice was urgent and slightly fearful, and Sirius has to resist the urge to go over and stomp of Bellatrix's face, hard. He took a deep breath and calmed down. Harry needed him.
Sirius nodded to answer Harry's question, then realised Harry couldn't see it. "Yes, Harry. And I'm going to make sure no one ever hurts you again."
The tiniest smile crept onto Harry's face. It wasn't much, but for now, it was enough.
Harry was safe. Sirius had his godson back.
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