Adoris Integare: Part I
Title: Adoris Integare
Rating: PG-13
Length: Three-Shot
Pairings: Mention of James/Lily, Implied possibility of Sirius/OC
Era: Hogwarts (fifth year)
Overall Summary: Nightmares created another sleepless night for Sirius Black, but who would have thought that the night would include the meeting of old friends, trying to decipher cryptic poems, and travelling to centuries in the past to supposedly complete an as-of-yet unknown task?
Part Summary: His sleepless night was just the beginning of this adventure.
Note: Story has a connection to my other fic, Recolitus Optimus. However, previous reading is NOT outright required to understand this story.
Awards: First Place in "Gauntlet Writing Challenge V" on MNFF
~*~
Part I: Sleepless Nights and Old Friends
Columns of fire rose towards the night sky, the thick, black smoke rising with them already increasing the darkness around the now-destroyed home. Heat radiated from the orange flames as they crackled and lapped at the wood and previously charming structure that had housed a happy family not but a few hours ago.
He stumbled through the piles of debris and rubble, tossing broken pieces of the furniture and walls aside as he searched. Thoughts swirled in his mind, and a part of him longed to call out, to find out if they were still there, if they were still alright, but he couldn’t. Even if he didn’t fear the answer (or lack thereof), the heavy smoke prevented him from speaking clearly enough to be heard.
And then he saw it, though he tried to tell his mind that it wasn’t true. The pale hand attached to his best friend’s arm that was connected to his body was not lying unmoving near the small table. It’s not true, he thought. It’s not … No … It’s not.
But there was no denying what was right in front of his eyes, no matter how much he wished he could -
Sirius Black suddenly jerked awake in a cold sweat, gasping for air and sitting up in his bed, trying to still his racing heart as he ran his hands over his face, willing the vivid images of the nightmare to disappear. A few minutes passed before he was able to calm back down, the images of a burning house and his friends’ bodies dimming and dimming until they had left the forefront of his mind. Once his breathing had returned to normal, Sirius glanced around his room, taking in the discarded pieces of parchment and dirty clothes that littered his floor, the empty potion vial that had contained a Dreamless Sleep Potion - And that certainly hadn’t done any good, he thought - sitting on his bedside table, and a still-open book lying on his desk. Raising his gaze just a bit, he caught sight of the calendar on his desk, with the date of “31 October” clearly visible from across the room due to the light of the nearly-full moon shining through his window.
“That would explain it,” he muttered, and he slowly made his way out of the bed and across the room to his door. He knew there would be no more sleep tonight, not after those kinds of nightmares.
As he made his way through the narrow corridors of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius realised just how quiet the old house was - far more silent than he had heard it in a long time, as a matter of fact. It was a thick silence, one that seemed eerie, almost, and unnatural, as it was only broken by the tick … tick … tick of the large clock in the library and the nearly-silent sounds of his footsteps as he descended the stairs towards the kitchen.
Upon entering the kitchen, he made his way over towards the counter, on top of which sat the bottle of Firewhisky he’d left the night before after talking with Sirius over something or other. Still half-full, he picked it up before sitting down at the table and taking a swig, staring across the room at nothing in particular and trying to keep from focussing on his thoughts as the alcohol travelled down his throat.
Sirius knew that the sleepless (or on those that he did get sleep, restless) nights would soon catch up to him, but he couldn’t think of any other way to cease the nightmares, and trying to sleep after having one of those was just about impossible - He knew from experience. Obviously a Dreamless Sleep Potion wouldn’t work for long (but, glancing at his watch, he saw that it did manage to get him a good four hours of rest), and even when Sirius had suggested that he try to stop the nightmares by talking about them had produced negative results. Other potions produced the same or worse results than that of the Dreamless Sleep, and not even passing out drunk worked for long (and the result upon waking up was far worse after those attempts).
But, he thought, taking another drink from the bottle, if anyone asks, I’m swearing that I slept for most of the night.
Minutes continued to tick by, the time passing slowly as Sirius sat in the kitchen, lifting the bottle of Firewhisky for a drink every once in a while and sweeping his gaze across the room. Thoughts swirled in his mind, ranging from the latest Order meeting (in which no new news of Voldemort was given and he was told once again to “stay in the house”) to Harry (who he hadn’t heard from (or been able to write to) in over three weeks due to Ministry interference) to the simple thought of how he was going to waste another day (which he had been doing for almost four months, as a matter of fact, and was beginning to run out of ideas for). He was about to take another drink of the now-nearly-empty bottle when a small, twinkling light caught his eye.
Looking across the room, Sirius saw the cause of the light - something was reflecting off a piece of glass. He stood up, leaving the bottle on the table, and went over to examine the glass, not having realised it earlier (and it wasn’t like sunlight would have caused the glass to reflect light in that manner; it was still the middle of the night). Sirius picked the object up, fingering it from hand to hand as he tried to figure out what it was.
The object was clearly made of a type of glass, though it wasn’t the same crystal that was usually found in the House of Black. It shimmered as he held it and ran his hands over its smooth, rounded edges. Only about slightly larger than a Golden Snitch, the object wasn’t quite as ball-shaped as it was egg-shaped. Intricate designs could be seen faintly covering the glass surface, though they were so faint it was difficult to make them out. A light layer of dust covered one of the object’s sides, and as Sirius wiped it away, another symbol on the glass object became evident for just the briefest of moments before the entire kitchen of Grimmauld Place was engulfed in a brilliant, white light …
And when the light had left, the bottle of Firewhisky was all that remained in the now-empty room.
----
The next time Sirius opened his eyes, it was to a vastly different sight from the one he last remembered seeing. The dark and dismal appearance of Number Twelve’s kitchen had seemingly been replaced by a wide open and grassy field, with golden rays of sunlight beaming down on him. Blinking to try and adjust to his very sunny and bright surroundings, Sirius slowly sat up from his position on the ground, grasping his head as he did so.
Looking around, his first thought was somewhere along the lines of “Where the hell am I?” and was followed quickly by wondering something like “How did I get here?” Nothing looked familiar, and Sirius couldn’t ever remember being anywhere like this field. Not even Hogwarts or Hogsmeade - which would have been the closest comparisons - came anywhere near being like this area. A few trees could be found standing every once in a while, their green leaves blowing slightly in the cool breeze, while some birds flew overhead. Cloudless blue skies allowed the sun to shine extraordinarily brightly, and he just sat for a brief moment enjoying the feeling of being outside in such clear and wide, open freedom …
Freedom. The thought seemed to jog his memory, and Sirius immediately tensed up, quickly looking around to make sure that he was, in reality, alone and not in any immediate danger of being caught. As his eyes scanned his surroundings, checking to see if anyone else was around, he caught sight of a light brown satchel lying only a few feet from him. Being the only object that didn’t seem at home in the open field, Sirius walked over towards it and picked it up, flipping through the objects inside - but not before picking up the ebony wand that lay beside the bag - How did my wand get here? he thought, remembering full well that he’d left it in the kitchen - and putting it back inside his pocket.
After discovering that the satchel held only a few items - a heavy, dark leather book that, upon flipping through it for a moment, seemed to be about some sort of history; an old and worn piece of parchment that greatly resembled the Marauder’s Map; and a tiny, golden hourglass attached to a very lengthy, but thin, chain - Sirius was still at a loss on both where he was and how he had arrived there. Having hoped that the bag would contain answers to at least one of those questions, he was severely disappointed -
Until he looked down and discovered another piece of parchment, this one looking much newer than that of the map, lying at his feet. Bending down, he picked the parchment up and opened it, the words and images within sparking several memories - both recent and distant - inside him.
Seven different symbols could be seen on the parchment, one in each of the four corners with two on the sides and the final one - much larger than the other six - located in the very centre of the parchment, faded a bit so as to make it possible to read the words written over it. All of the symbols were alike, yet different, and they were all images that Sirius had seen before, nearly two decades earlier in a book in his father’s library. Not to mention his memories of the adventure in his seventh year, when he’d come across several symbols of the ancient Wizarding Order of Recolitus Optimus.
And here I’d hoped that had only been a hell of a dream, he thought, his hands tracing over the different images.
The six symbols surrounding the borders of the parchment were those for the Branches of the Wolf, Bear, Fish, Dragon, Owl, and Stag. The one in the centre, larger though fainter than the others, was that of the symbol for the Branch of the Dog. Alike in many ways, all the images were circular, surrounded by fiery vines with a sword intersecting two crossing wands. Pictures of an animal and words could be seen on each symbol, denoting what branch of Recolitus Optimus the symbol was for, though the placement of the words and pictures varied with each. That of the Branch of the Dog, for instance, held two dogs, one on each side of the sword’s hilt, and the words “Recolitus Optimus: Canis” arcing over the tip of the sword at the top of the symbol.
But it wasn’t so much the images that held Sirius’s attention, but rather the words that had been written on the parchment. Overlaying the symbol of Canis were several paragraphs - a poem.
Ten and four in the past,
Flower’s light brought down the Dark
But it would not last;
For, once again, would rise the Mark.
Words long ago spoken
Were not understood.
Therefore the bond was broken
But Evil cannot conquer Good.
Now Loyalty must once again
Set out to complete the task.
Using only what was given him;
For help, he shall not ask.
But a word of caution before the end
Must be handed down to thee:
In certain roads around the bend,
Do not interfere with what eyes may see.
Loyalty must travel on;
Here, his own road he will make.
Once completed, arise will dawn,
And back in safety, he will wake.
He read through the poem several times, each time hoping to get more sense out of the words than what he’d had before. Try as he might, however, he didn’t experience any sort of major epiphany over the meaning. Suspicions and guesses, yes, but true, concrete understanding and knowledge, no. Sirius had a sneaking suspicion that the “Loyalty” referred to was himself, and even as he thought this, memories of his past came hurling back to him, straight into the forefront of his mind … A tall, black-haired Dark witch uttering the same words, over and over, in the middle of an underground tunnel:
“A bond between four
That none could destroy:
Leadership, Loyalty, Betrayal, Mystery.
Unknown, such unity ever was.”
The prophecy had continued, of course, but what he hadn’t understood then, he seemed to know now. It had all stood for someone, he thought. It wasn’t just for the ancient Order, and for the Branch of the Rat, but for … us. A slight chill went down Sirius's spine at the thought that a Dark witch’s century-old prophecy had referred to him and his friends.
Pushing the thought aside, however, he searched once again through all of the objects he had with him, throwing the parchment in his hands into a pocket. All right, we have a Time-Turner, a map, a book, and a glass, egg-shaped … thing. He lifted each object out of the satchel again before replacing most of them. The glass egg, for a reason he didn’t really understand, he kept in his hands as he stood up and began walking.
----
Sirius wasn’t sure how long had passed before he came across something other than the wide, open field he’d been. A part of him felt like he’d only been walking for a few minutes, while another part insisted that it had been several hours. Regardless, no sign of exhaustion seeped through him - which in itself was odd, as he hadn’t slept well for days. In front of him, however, stood a sight that was as far from the field as possible.
Several buildings towered around him, with roads crisscrossing every which way and streetlamps dotting along the sidewalks. If Sirius didn’t know better, he’d guess that he was in a large city, like London, perhaps. But that’s not possible, he thought for a moment before pushing the idea aside. However he had gotten here, it didn’t matter, he supposed.
He began walking down the dark and deserted street, not quite having a destination in mind. The brief thought of transforming into Padfoot crossed his mind, but he let it pass; there was no one around to see him, and it felt good to walk out in public as a human for once. Besides, if anyone does show up, then I’ll worry about hiding.
No sooner had the thought arose, however, did Sirius lay eyes on one person he knew should not have seen him. Long, blond hair and clothed in deep, black velvet, Lucius Malfoy stood only a few metres in front of him.
And to make things worse, Malfoy turned to look right at him.
Shit, he thought and Sirius immediately ducked back into the alley to his left, transforming as he did so and hurrying through an open door to one of the buildings. Different glasses lined the nearby bar, and tables were scattered all over what looked like a somewhat dingy pub. It strongly resembled the Leaky Cauldron, though a bit dirtier.
Still hidden in the shadows of the corridor, Sirius tensed as he heard footsteps, quickly followed by Malfoy’s voice and an overpowering blackness.
----
When Sirius finally returned to consciousness, confusion was rampant in his mind for only the shortest time before understanding overpowered it, and the memories of the last few moments all came rushing back. His eyes still closed, he let himself remember everything - how Lucius had seen him walking down the street, how he’d transformed and run into a pub, only to encounter the blond wizard once again, how the spell had left Malfoy’s wand before he’d even had a chance to react …
And here we are, he thought, slowly opening his eyes to find himself leaning up against a thin, wooden column and discovering the reason why his hands hadn’t been able to move at first; they’d been bound tightly behind his back, the ropes obviously magical so as to prevent an Animagus transformation. With every movement of struggling against the bonds, they tightened around his wrists, cutting into the skin. Muttered curses spewed from his mouth, and he found himself at least partially thankful that no Silencing Charm had been employed.
The room was heavily cloaked in darkness, a sole flickering candle the only thing breaking through the shadows, so as to make it impossible for Sirius to even know how large the room was. He struggled to get his eyes used to the darkness, and strained his ears so as to hear a shuffling of feet, an exhale of breath - anything to tell him whether or not he was alone. But no sound reached him, other than that of his own movements.
He was alone.
Well, that’s one good thing, he thought, trying to relax his hands as to keep the ropes from tightening anymore. At the rate they were going, it felt like they’d cut his hands off shortly. And that was certainly something that he didn’t need.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he muttered, glancing around him as he did so. Sighing in relief, Sirius saw that he still had everything that he’d gathered from the field - just not within reach. The brown satchel lay in a nearby chair, the closest leg far enough away that Sirius couldn’t knock the chair over to retrieve the bag. His wand, too, lay next to the satchel, as did the glass egg. He’d be able to leave as soon as got out of the bonds.
Easier said than done, he thought, suddenly wishing at the same time that he still had the penknife he’d given Harry for Christmas the year before. It’d surely come in handy right about now. But rather than spend too long lamenting the lack of a helpful item, Sirius scanned around the room - what he could see of it - in the hopes that some other object would be within reach. His survey of his surroundings, however, had barely begun before the door opened and in stepped the reason for his current predicament.
“Tell me, Black,” said Lucius by way of greeting, turning around to shut the door as he spoke. “Is stupidity a natural instinct for you or did it have to be learned?”
“I wondered the same thing about you, Lucy, before I realised it’s too abundant with you to be anything but natural -”
A lazy flick of Malfoy’s wand cut off Sirius's reply, the Silencing Charm taking instant effect. Lucius opened his mouth again to speak, but whatever words he might have said were ended before they even began by the opening of the wooden door once again.
“Lucius, have you seen -?” said a woman’s voice.
The door opened further to reveal a single figure cloaked in the long, black robes reminiscent of a Death Eater. Her hood was pulled over her head, keeping her identity a secret, but her voice sparked something in Sirius; it was a voice he’d heard before, though it had been nearly twenty years in the past. Soft, almost musical, it brought back memories of days with friends, all of them laughing together and long nights spent alone, just the two of them, sharing whispered worries and hidden fears that they kept secret in front of everyone else. Of course, the ideas that his mind was playing tricks on him, that he’d finally lost it or that she was an illusion of Malfoy’s, or even that she wasn’t really who he thought she was, were always possibilities.
But as she turned to face him, the candlelight hit her face just right, the hood unable to keep her identity in the shadows, and her name slipped from his lips without thought.
“Alex.”
Belatedly, as Alexandra Bonnet lowered her hood, Sirius realised that Malfoy must have removed the Silencing Charm, but he realised he didn’t much care. Alex’s face was framed by her long, blonde hair, the curly strands falling down her back as they were pulled free from the cloth. Her skin was mostly pale, with just a hint of darker colour, and icy blue eyes stared directly at him, meeting his own surprised gaze though revealing no emotion themselves. She stood tall and proud next to Malfoy, and it was easy to see the relation - they were cousins, after all. (Alex’s mother, Anastasia, had been Abraxas’s younger sister; she’d married into the Bonnet family of France (a pureblood family nearly as old as the Malfoys), though Alex had lived in Britain, attending Hogwarts as a Ravenclaw before leaving in June of 1979 and entering the war … on the side of the Order of the Phoenix.)
“Lucius, can you leave us alone for a moment?” Alex’s words tore Sirius from his memories for the time being, and he was slightly surprised to see Malfoy actually leave the room, taking only the briefest of seconds to whisper something to his cousin. The click of the door’s lock seemed to be the alert to start the conversation.
“Sirius -” whispered Alex, before Sirius's own words overrode hers.
“Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, his mind telling him an answer - but it wasn’t one he wanted to accept yet. Not until he heard it from her own mouth.
“I’m fighting a war,” she replied.
“With him?”
“The first time I picked a side, Sirius, I chose my friends, I chose love,” she muttered, her blue eyes flickering slightly with some sort of emotion before closing off entirely. “But the second time around, I chose family.”
“You’re a Death Eater.”
~*~
End of the first part.
~Megan
Rating: PG-13
Length: Three-Shot
Pairings: Mention of James/Lily, Implied possibility of Sirius/OC
Era: Hogwarts (fifth year)
Overall Summary: Nightmares created another sleepless night for Sirius Black, but who would have thought that the night would include the meeting of old friends, trying to decipher cryptic poems, and travelling to centuries in the past to supposedly complete an as-of-yet unknown task?
Part Summary: His sleepless night was just the beginning of this adventure.
Note: Story has a connection to my other fic, Recolitus Optimus. However, previous reading is NOT outright required to understand this story.
Awards: First Place in "Gauntlet Writing Challenge V" on MNFF
~*~
Part I: Sleepless Nights and Old Friends
Columns of fire rose towards the night sky, the thick, black smoke rising with them already increasing the darkness around the now-destroyed home. Heat radiated from the orange flames as they crackled and lapped at the wood and previously charming structure that had housed a happy family not but a few hours ago.
He stumbled through the piles of debris and rubble, tossing broken pieces of the furniture and walls aside as he searched. Thoughts swirled in his mind, and a part of him longed to call out, to find out if they were still there, if they were still alright, but he couldn’t. Even if he didn’t fear the answer (or lack thereof), the heavy smoke prevented him from speaking clearly enough to be heard.
And then he saw it, though he tried to tell his mind that it wasn’t true. The pale hand attached to his best friend’s arm that was connected to his body was not lying unmoving near the small table. It’s not true, he thought. It’s not … No … It’s not.
But there was no denying what was right in front of his eyes, no matter how much he wished he could -
Sirius Black suddenly jerked awake in a cold sweat, gasping for air and sitting up in his bed, trying to still his racing heart as he ran his hands over his face, willing the vivid images of the nightmare to disappear. A few minutes passed before he was able to calm back down, the images of a burning house and his friends’ bodies dimming and dimming until they had left the forefront of his mind. Once his breathing had returned to normal, Sirius glanced around his room, taking in the discarded pieces of parchment and dirty clothes that littered his floor, the empty potion vial that had contained a Dreamless Sleep Potion - And that certainly hadn’t done any good, he thought - sitting on his bedside table, and a still-open book lying on his desk. Raising his gaze just a bit, he caught sight of the calendar on his desk, with the date of “31 October” clearly visible from across the room due to the light of the nearly-full moon shining through his window.
“That would explain it,” he muttered, and he slowly made his way out of the bed and across the room to his door. He knew there would be no more sleep tonight, not after those kinds of nightmares.
As he made his way through the narrow corridors of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius realised just how quiet the old house was - far more silent than he had heard it in a long time, as a matter of fact. It was a thick silence, one that seemed eerie, almost, and unnatural, as it was only broken by the tick … tick … tick of the large clock in the library and the nearly-silent sounds of his footsteps as he descended the stairs towards the kitchen.
Upon entering the kitchen, he made his way over towards the counter, on top of which sat the bottle of Firewhisky he’d left the night before after talking with Sirius over something or other. Still half-full, he picked it up before sitting down at the table and taking a swig, staring across the room at nothing in particular and trying to keep from focussing on his thoughts as the alcohol travelled down his throat.
Sirius knew that the sleepless (or on those that he did get sleep, restless) nights would soon catch up to him, but he couldn’t think of any other way to cease the nightmares, and trying to sleep after having one of those was just about impossible - He knew from experience. Obviously a Dreamless Sleep Potion wouldn’t work for long (but, glancing at his watch, he saw that it did manage to get him a good four hours of rest), and even when Sirius had suggested that he try to stop the nightmares by talking about them had produced negative results. Other potions produced the same or worse results than that of the Dreamless Sleep, and not even passing out drunk worked for long (and the result upon waking up was far worse after those attempts).
But, he thought, taking another drink from the bottle, if anyone asks, I’m swearing that I slept for most of the night.
Minutes continued to tick by, the time passing slowly as Sirius sat in the kitchen, lifting the bottle of Firewhisky for a drink every once in a while and sweeping his gaze across the room. Thoughts swirled in his mind, ranging from the latest Order meeting (in which no new news of Voldemort was given and he was told once again to “stay in the house”) to Harry (who he hadn’t heard from (or been able to write to) in over three weeks due to Ministry interference) to the simple thought of how he was going to waste another day (which he had been doing for almost four months, as a matter of fact, and was beginning to run out of ideas for). He was about to take another drink of the now-nearly-empty bottle when a small, twinkling light caught his eye.
Looking across the room, Sirius saw the cause of the light - something was reflecting off a piece of glass. He stood up, leaving the bottle on the table, and went over to examine the glass, not having realised it earlier (and it wasn’t like sunlight would have caused the glass to reflect light in that manner; it was still the middle of the night). Sirius picked the object up, fingering it from hand to hand as he tried to figure out what it was.
The object was clearly made of a type of glass, though it wasn’t the same crystal that was usually found in the House of Black. It shimmered as he held it and ran his hands over its smooth, rounded edges. Only about slightly larger than a Golden Snitch, the object wasn’t quite as ball-shaped as it was egg-shaped. Intricate designs could be seen faintly covering the glass surface, though they were so faint it was difficult to make them out. A light layer of dust covered one of the object’s sides, and as Sirius wiped it away, another symbol on the glass object became evident for just the briefest of moments before the entire kitchen of Grimmauld Place was engulfed in a brilliant, white light …
And when the light had left, the bottle of Firewhisky was all that remained in the now-empty room.
----
The next time Sirius opened his eyes, it was to a vastly different sight from the one he last remembered seeing. The dark and dismal appearance of Number Twelve’s kitchen had seemingly been replaced by a wide open and grassy field, with golden rays of sunlight beaming down on him. Blinking to try and adjust to his very sunny and bright surroundings, Sirius slowly sat up from his position on the ground, grasping his head as he did so.
Looking around, his first thought was somewhere along the lines of “Where the hell am I?” and was followed quickly by wondering something like “How did I get here?” Nothing looked familiar, and Sirius couldn’t ever remember being anywhere like this field. Not even Hogwarts or Hogsmeade - which would have been the closest comparisons - came anywhere near being like this area. A few trees could be found standing every once in a while, their green leaves blowing slightly in the cool breeze, while some birds flew overhead. Cloudless blue skies allowed the sun to shine extraordinarily brightly, and he just sat for a brief moment enjoying the feeling of being outside in such clear and wide, open freedom …
Freedom. The thought seemed to jog his memory, and Sirius immediately tensed up, quickly looking around to make sure that he was, in reality, alone and not in any immediate danger of being caught. As his eyes scanned his surroundings, checking to see if anyone else was around, he caught sight of a light brown satchel lying only a few feet from him. Being the only object that didn’t seem at home in the open field, Sirius walked over towards it and picked it up, flipping through the objects inside - but not before picking up the ebony wand that lay beside the bag - How did my wand get here? he thought, remembering full well that he’d left it in the kitchen - and putting it back inside his pocket.
After discovering that the satchel held only a few items - a heavy, dark leather book that, upon flipping through it for a moment, seemed to be about some sort of history; an old and worn piece of parchment that greatly resembled the Marauder’s Map; and a tiny, golden hourglass attached to a very lengthy, but thin, chain - Sirius was still at a loss on both where he was and how he had arrived there. Having hoped that the bag would contain answers to at least one of those questions, he was severely disappointed -
Until he looked down and discovered another piece of parchment, this one looking much newer than that of the map, lying at his feet. Bending down, he picked the parchment up and opened it, the words and images within sparking several memories - both recent and distant - inside him.
Seven different symbols could be seen on the parchment, one in each of the four corners with two on the sides and the final one - much larger than the other six - located in the very centre of the parchment, faded a bit so as to make it possible to read the words written over it. All of the symbols were alike, yet different, and they were all images that Sirius had seen before, nearly two decades earlier in a book in his father’s library. Not to mention his memories of the adventure in his seventh year, when he’d come across several symbols of the ancient Wizarding Order of Recolitus Optimus.
And here I’d hoped that had only been a hell of a dream, he thought, his hands tracing over the different images.
The six symbols surrounding the borders of the parchment were those for the Branches of the Wolf, Bear, Fish, Dragon, Owl, and Stag. The one in the centre, larger though fainter than the others, was that of the symbol for the Branch of the Dog. Alike in many ways, all the images were circular, surrounded by fiery vines with a sword intersecting two crossing wands. Pictures of an animal and words could be seen on each symbol, denoting what branch of Recolitus Optimus the symbol was for, though the placement of the words and pictures varied with each. That of the Branch of the Dog, for instance, held two dogs, one on each side of the sword’s hilt, and the words “Recolitus Optimus: Canis” arcing over the tip of the sword at the top of the symbol.
But it wasn’t so much the images that held Sirius’s attention, but rather the words that had been written on the parchment. Overlaying the symbol of Canis were several paragraphs - a poem.
Ten and four in the past,
Flower’s light brought down the Dark
But it would not last;
For, once again, would rise the Mark.
Words long ago spoken
Were not understood.
Therefore the bond was broken
But Evil cannot conquer Good.
Now Loyalty must once again
Set out to complete the task.
Using only what was given him;
For help, he shall not ask.
But a word of caution before the end
Must be handed down to thee:
In certain roads around the bend,
Do not interfere with what eyes may see.
Loyalty must travel on;
Here, his own road he will make.
Once completed, arise will dawn,
And back in safety, he will wake.
He read through the poem several times, each time hoping to get more sense out of the words than what he’d had before. Try as he might, however, he didn’t experience any sort of major epiphany over the meaning. Suspicions and guesses, yes, but true, concrete understanding and knowledge, no. Sirius had a sneaking suspicion that the “Loyalty” referred to was himself, and even as he thought this, memories of his past came hurling back to him, straight into the forefront of his mind … A tall, black-haired Dark witch uttering the same words, over and over, in the middle of an underground tunnel:
“A bond between four
That none could destroy:
Leadership, Loyalty, Betrayal, Mystery.
Unknown, such unity ever was.”
The prophecy had continued, of course, but what he hadn’t understood then, he seemed to know now. It had all stood for someone, he thought. It wasn’t just for the ancient Order, and for the Branch of the Rat, but for … us. A slight chill went down Sirius's spine at the thought that a Dark witch’s century-old prophecy had referred to him and his friends.
Pushing the thought aside, however, he searched once again through all of the objects he had with him, throwing the parchment in his hands into a pocket. All right, we have a Time-Turner, a map, a book, and a glass, egg-shaped … thing. He lifted each object out of the satchel again before replacing most of them. The glass egg, for a reason he didn’t really understand, he kept in his hands as he stood up and began walking.
----
Sirius wasn’t sure how long had passed before he came across something other than the wide, open field he’d been. A part of him felt like he’d only been walking for a few minutes, while another part insisted that it had been several hours. Regardless, no sign of exhaustion seeped through him - which in itself was odd, as he hadn’t slept well for days. In front of him, however, stood a sight that was as far from the field as possible.
Several buildings towered around him, with roads crisscrossing every which way and streetlamps dotting along the sidewalks. If Sirius didn’t know better, he’d guess that he was in a large city, like London, perhaps. But that’s not possible, he thought for a moment before pushing the idea aside. However he had gotten here, it didn’t matter, he supposed.
He began walking down the dark and deserted street, not quite having a destination in mind. The brief thought of transforming into Padfoot crossed his mind, but he let it pass; there was no one around to see him, and it felt good to walk out in public as a human for once. Besides, if anyone does show up, then I’ll worry about hiding.
No sooner had the thought arose, however, did Sirius lay eyes on one person he knew should not have seen him. Long, blond hair and clothed in deep, black velvet, Lucius Malfoy stood only a few metres in front of him.
And to make things worse, Malfoy turned to look right at him.
Shit, he thought and Sirius immediately ducked back into the alley to his left, transforming as he did so and hurrying through an open door to one of the buildings. Different glasses lined the nearby bar, and tables were scattered all over what looked like a somewhat dingy pub. It strongly resembled the Leaky Cauldron, though a bit dirtier.
Still hidden in the shadows of the corridor, Sirius tensed as he heard footsteps, quickly followed by Malfoy’s voice and an overpowering blackness.
----
When Sirius finally returned to consciousness, confusion was rampant in his mind for only the shortest time before understanding overpowered it, and the memories of the last few moments all came rushing back. His eyes still closed, he let himself remember everything - how Lucius had seen him walking down the street, how he’d transformed and run into a pub, only to encounter the blond wizard once again, how the spell had left Malfoy’s wand before he’d even had a chance to react …
And here we are, he thought, slowly opening his eyes to find himself leaning up against a thin, wooden column and discovering the reason why his hands hadn’t been able to move at first; they’d been bound tightly behind his back, the ropes obviously magical so as to prevent an Animagus transformation. With every movement of struggling against the bonds, they tightened around his wrists, cutting into the skin. Muttered curses spewed from his mouth, and he found himself at least partially thankful that no Silencing Charm had been employed.
The room was heavily cloaked in darkness, a sole flickering candle the only thing breaking through the shadows, so as to make it impossible for Sirius to even know how large the room was. He struggled to get his eyes used to the darkness, and strained his ears so as to hear a shuffling of feet, an exhale of breath - anything to tell him whether or not he was alone. But no sound reached him, other than that of his own movements.
He was alone.
Well, that’s one good thing, he thought, trying to relax his hands as to keep the ropes from tightening anymore. At the rate they were going, it felt like they’d cut his hands off shortly. And that was certainly something that he didn’t need.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he muttered, glancing around him as he did so. Sighing in relief, Sirius saw that he still had everything that he’d gathered from the field - just not within reach. The brown satchel lay in a nearby chair, the closest leg far enough away that Sirius couldn’t knock the chair over to retrieve the bag. His wand, too, lay next to the satchel, as did the glass egg. He’d be able to leave as soon as got out of the bonds.
Easier said than done, he thought, suddenly wishing at the same time that he still had the penknife he’d given Harry for Christmas the year before. It’d surely come in handy right about now. But rather than spend too long lamenting the lack of a helpful item, Sirius scanned around the room - what he could see of it - in the hopes that some other object would be within reach. His survey of his surroundings, however, had barely begun before the door opened and in stepped the reason for his current predicament.
“Tell me, Black,” said Lucius by way of greeting, turning around to shut the door as he spoke. “Is stupidity a natural instinct for you or did it have to be learned?”
“I wondered the same thing about you, Lucy, before I realised it’s too abundant with you to be anything but natural -”
A lazy flick of Malfoy’s wand cut off Sirius's reply, the Silencing Charm taking instant effect. Lucius opened his mouth again to speak, but whatever words he might have said were ended before they even began by the opening of the wooden door once again.
“Lucius, have you seen -?” said a woman’s voice.
The door opened further to reveal a single figure cloaked in the long, black robes reminiscent of a Death Eater. Her hood was pulled over her head, keeping her identity a secret, but her voice sparked something in Sirius; it was a voice he’d heard before, though it had been nearly twenty years in the past. Soft, almost musical, it brought back memories of days with friends, all of them laughing together and long nights spent alone, just the two of them, sharing whispered worries and hidden fears that they kept secret in front of everyone else. Of course, the ideas that his mind was playing tricks on him, that he’d finally lost it or that she was an illusion of Malfoy’s, or even that she wasn’t really who he thought she was, were always possibilities.
But as she turned to face him, the candlelight hit her face just right, the hood unable to keep her identity in the shadows, and her name slipped from his lips without thought.
“Alex.”
Belatedly, as Alexandra Bonnet lowered her hood, Sirius realised that Malfoy must have removed the Silencing Charm, but he realised he didn’t much care. Alex’s face was framed by her long, blonde hair, the curly strands falling down her back as they were pulled free from the cloth. Her skin was mostly pale, with just a hint of darker colour, and icy blue eyes stared directly at him, meeting his own surprised gaze though revealing no emotion themselves. She stood tall and proud next to Malfoy, and it was easy to see the relation - they were cousins, after all. (Alex’s mother, Anastasia, had been Abraxas’s younger sister; she’d married into the Bonnet family of France (a pureblood family nearly as old as the Malfoys), though Alex had lived in Britain, attending Hogwarts as a Ravenclaw before leaving in June of 1979 and entering the war … on the side of the Order of the Phoenix.)
“Lucius, can you leave us alone for a moment?” Alex’s words tore Sirius from his memories for the time being, and he was slightly surprised to see Malfoy actually leave the room, taking only the briefest of seconds to whisper something to his cousin. The click of the door’s lock seemed to be the alert to start the conversation.
“Sirius -” whispered Alex, before Sirius's own words overrode hers.
“Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, his mind telling him an answer - but it wasn’t one he wanted to accept yet. Not until he heard it from her own mouth.
“I’m fighting a war,” she replied.
“With him?”
“The first time I picked a side, Sirius, I chose my friends, I chose love,” she muttered, her blue eyes flickering slightly with some sort of emotion before closing off entirely. “But the second time around, I chose family.”
“You’re a Death Eater.”
~*~
End of the first part.
~Megan