Prisons
Title: Prisons
Rating: PG
Timeframe: Marauders era
Genre: Angst. Bucketfuls of angst.
Characters: James, Sirius, Dumbledore
Disclaimer: Don't own HP
Summary: James and Sirius unleash a dark evil that can only be re-sealed by sacrificing one of them.
Notes: This is fic is one half of a mirror-fic project witten with Inyri. The premise of the story is that James Potter and Sirius Black inadvertently release an ancient evil force. They have a short period of time to stop it before it destroys Hogwarts and the surrounding areas, but stopping it comes with the price of a life. As there were two potential outcomes, we each took one. This is my contribution. Read both, they make more sense together. And yes, this fic is clearly an AU that amounts to a character study on Sirius Black and James Potter.
To read the other half and see the reverse take, check out Inyri's "Door Number Three."
~*~
It would have been better if Dumbledore had just yelled at him.
Raised his voice.
Shouted.
Screamed if he wanted to.
This? This was far worse.
"I'm disappointed, James," Dumbledore wearily repeated. "You both knew better. You knew better."
Tears stung James' eyes once again. Dumbledore was right, of course. They did know better. They always knew better, but that had never stopped them in the past. No one had ever gotten hurt before, so what was the harm in simply exploring the grounds like they always had? James had always been keenly aware that Hogwarts, despite the fact that it was perhaps the world's premier magical arts academy, housed dark secrets.
Dark, dangerous secrets.
But those secrets were part of the school's charm, James had told himself. Besides, how dangerous could they possibly be? Whenever they went exploring, he didn't think that any serious harm would ever come to himself or any of his friends. Not for a moment. Sure, perhaps they would suffer through some sort of a curse. The time Remus had been blasted by that curse that caused him to speak in reverse for the better part of a week at least had been amusing.
Perhaps after five years, they had gotten complacent.
Through blurry vision, James looked up at the Headmaster. The man's usual warm, affable disposition had vanished. James realized with almost a start that Dumbledore suddenly looked to be every one of his years. The Headmaster regarded James with a neutral look. Oh, how James wanted him to flash the reassuring smile that he had grown so used to and had come to appreciate. Perhaps even reach across his desk and pat James on the shoulder.
Instead, Dumbledore gave a small shake of his head and looked away.
James swallowed and tried to fight back the tears that had welled up in his eyes to no avail. He buried his face in his hands, partly out of reflex, but mostly to hide the absolute anguish and shame he was displaying from Dumbledore. The silent tears turned into sniffles, the sniffles to anguished groans, the groans to choked sobs. In part, it was a reaction to the emotional hell he had been through. Mostly, he would later reflect, it was a desperate plea for consolation from the man he admired so.
But Dumbledore didn't smile. He didn't pat James on the shoulder and tell him that everything was going to be okay.
That was to be expected, he realized. You don't give murderers a smile and a reassuring pat.
~*~
"Moony," James whispered, shaking his shoulder. "Moony! Get up!"
Remus groaned and opened a single eye, glaring at James. "What time is it?"
"A little after midnight," James replied. "Come on, get up."
"Unless the common room is on fire or the kitchen is having a midnight pastry serving, you would be wise to let me go back to sleep before I'm awake enough to think of a hex to put on you," Remus muttered. "You didn't set the common room on fire again, did you?"
"No, and I keep telling you, that was an accident." James tugged on his friend's arm. "Now come on, get up. Sirius is waiting for is in the hall."
Remus pulled his arm away. "You're going exploring again, aren't you?"
"What else would we be doing at this hour? We saw something interesting on the map and we want to go check it out."
"I see. Now, let's just play through the normal conversation. I'll say, 'James are you bloody mad? We have an exam first thing in the morning.' You'll counter with, 'I'll be fine. By the way, can I crib your notes from you before breakfast?' I'll snap right back and say, 'Fine, but this is the last time, Potter. Study the damn material yourself before the next exam.'"
"Delightful," James rolled his eyes. "Now that we're through with formalities, will you get up so we can go?"
"No," Remus replied flatly. "First, I'm tired. Second, I lied. You can't have my notes because I lost them three days ago. Third ..." he paused. "Well there is no third, really. If you want someone else to go with you, ask Wormtail."
"Can't. Wormtail tried the mystery meat dish so he's in the Hospital wing with a dozen other unfortunate souls."
"Figures the one thing he's adventurous about is his food palate."
James chuckled. "No chance I can talk you into joining us?"
"None at all. You and Padfoot run along and enjoy your date now. I promise not to tell Lily."
James flashed Remus an amused smirk and a decidedly unflattering gesture before quietly leaving, taking care not to wake anyone else up as he made his way to the halls outside the common room. He was a bit disappointed that Remus and Peter wouldn't be with them as per usual, but that wasn't about to stop him from going on this mini-excursion. He caught sight of Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"I told you the git wouldn't show up," Sirius said. "Not after he spent a week talking backwards."
"You know, I kept trying to tell him he made more sense that way," James replied. "I maintain that curse did him a favor."
"Easily the most carefree week of my life," Sirius deadpanned. "Now let's get going already."
Hidden under James' invisibility cloak, they descended into the depths of Hogwarts. One dark corridor gave way to a cobweb riddled staircase, which gave way to another dark corridor, which gave way to another cobweb riddled staircase. They continued their descent, lower and lower into reaches of the school that likely had not been traversed in hundreds of years. James realized dully that they had now travelled deeper than they ever had in the past. How long had they been on the move? He had lost track.
Eventually, they arrived at their destination. James pulled off the cloak and stowed it in his bag. He glanced at Sirius for a moment before walking towards the surprisingly nondescript wooden door. Without so much as a thought, he took a hold of the large brass ring door handle and wrapped his fingers firmly around it.
Almost instantly the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A chill washed over him. On reflex, James let go of the ring and took a step back. His heart raced and his breath was suddenly shallow.
"You okay?" Sirius asked. "Don't tell me you're getting the creeps now."
"I'm ..." He shook his head and took a deep breath. "I'm fine."
"Well come along, then."
He watched as Sirius took a hold of the handle. For the briefest of moments, Sirius paused, inhaling sharply. Had he felt the same thing? He glanced over his shoulder at James and offered a nervous smile before pulling back on the handle. The door didn't immediately budge, perhaps because the hinges had seized in place long ago. Sirius folded his other hand around the ring and began to pull. Slowly, the old door began to budge. A low growl filled the hallway as the bottom of the door scraped against the stone floor.
Sirius looked over his shoulder. "Coming?"
James swallowed. He was still rattled over the cold rush that had overcome him only moments earlier. He inhaled through clenched teeth and stood a bit straighter, a show of resolve for no one but himself. With a nod, he took a step forward and placed a foot into the long forgotten Well of the Damned.
"The story goes that these halls were once a temporary holding prison," Sirius said quietly. "Hundreds of years ago the worst criminals imaginable were brought here. Murderers, practitioners of the dark arts. It's said that they were brought here for one reason only."
James took another step into the chamber but nearly had the wind knocked out of him, recoiling as the acrid, stale air hit his nose. He held up his wand and muttered "lumos," providing a bit more light for his eyes. Slowly he cast his gaze around the room, spotting precious little other than bare walls covered by dust and cobwebs. Another step forward. His footfall echoed throughout the room. He held out his hand, illuminating the floor in the center of the dark chamber.
There, in the middle of the floor, was a short, circular object. James carefully approached it and saw that it was made of carved stone, much like old water wells he had seen in older communities like Hogsmeade. The top had been sealed with what looked like a metal grate of sorts.
"And, supposedly, this is the Well of the Damned," Sirius stood next to James. "The souls and auras of the condemned are contained within it, partly as a measure to ensure they could never hurt anyone in their afterlife, partly as a form of punishment. Those who were executed in this room were doomed to have their souls spend all of time within this well, trapped with countless others who were just as corrupt as you were.
"Sounds like a lousy way to spend your afterlife," James said, managing a grin.
"You have no idea," Sirius continued. "The story goes on to say that the well is alive. It's aware, it thinks for itself. It exists to torment the souls buried within it. Some say that if you're trapped within it, it takes an eternity to project nightmares and horror. Your disembodied self spends the rest of its existence being subjected to every fear and torment imaginable. And some you can't quite imagine.
"If you were going to commit someone to the well," Sirius said, "you had better be sure you were ready to execute someone immediately. Once it's open, it won't close again until it's been fed a soul to feast on. Of course, if it remains open for too long, it .." he paused. "May not be able to contain what's held within it."
James raised a brow. "Are you saying the well would throw up its lunch?"
"That about covers it," Sirius said. "Imagine, though. Hundreds, maybe thousands of evil souls getting out of there, lusting for vengeance for the years they've spent in the worst hell imaginable."
He blinked. "Padfoot, that may be one of the most absurd stories I've ever heard." James took another step closer, knocking on the heavy, metal grate on top of it. "Well of the Damned. You know as well as I do this was probably just a water well."
Sirius shrugged. "I didn't say I believed it, that's how the story goes. Don't tell me that you weren't the tiniest bit spooked."
"Perish the thought," James replied, raising his wand with a mischievous grin. "I'll even prove it to you."
His friend's expression suddenly hardened. "You're not actually going to open it up, are you?"
"Why shouldn't I? You just said you didn't believe the story. Besides, what's an old water well going to do to us?"
Sirius seemed placated by his answer. Grinning, James turned to face the well. He opened his mouth to utter a spell, but found his voice caught in his throat. The chill he had felt when he touched the brass ring returned. His wand hand wavered. James blinked and shook his head. He wasn't about to back down now. With a still voice, he muttered the spell. A streak of light shot from his wand to the metal grate, causing it to fly off of the wall and crash down onto the floor with a loud clanging. James braced himself for ... He wasn't sure, but he braced himself.
Then he waited. Idly he realized he had clamped his eyes shut as he had cast the spell. Gingerly, he opened one eye, peering around the room before settling on the well. Nothing had happened. He carefully stuck his head over it, scanning down the depths of the well. Smiling he turned around to face his friend.
"Told you that story was rubbish," he gloated.
He spoke to soon. He always spoke to soon. Lily often liked to point that out to him every time he lodged his foot firmly in his mouth. A low rumble began to fill the chamber. The rumble increased in intensity, causing the room to shake violently. James felt his feet knocked out from under him. He landed on his back, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of his lungs.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Sirius' hand. James took it and was helped onto his feet. The scrambled for the open doorway, hearts pounding with both exertion and absolute fear. Just as they reached it, the heavy door slammed shut as if compelled by an unseen force. He watched as Sirius threw his shoulder against it, trying to jar it open to no avail. James threw his back against the now closed door, staring wide eyed at the well.
The rumbling subsided. For the briefest of moments, James felt himself relaxing. He told himself that he was right, the story had been nothing but hogwash.
Then the light emerged from the center of the wall. It was a sickly, eerie green orb that slowly approached them. As it neared, the orb seemed to shift, it's form taking a more oblong shape. Two depressions appeared near the top, quickly filled by two smaller green orbs. A wiry mouth and nose appeared on the object. It finally came to a stop in midair, directly in front of James. He held his breath and stood perfectly still, afraid to even blink.
The floating, translucent head suddenly scowled. "The well shall remain open until the condemned has been put to death."
With that, the apparition vanished.
James slumped to the floor, his eyes locked onto the open well in front of the. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his chest tight.
"What have I done?" he asked.
"I do believe you've killed us all," Sirius muttered. "Probably was just a matter of time, I suppose. If only you could have held off another year, I would have won the pool."
James turned his head slowly to look at his friend, unsure whether to be appalled or to laugh. "You gambled on when I'd get all of us killed? How, pray tell, were you supposed to collect your winnings if we were all dead?"
"I suppose we didn't think that one all the way through."
Despite himself, James tilted his head back and laughed. How did he do it? How could Sirius always manage to make him laugh in the most absurdly inappropriate situations? Here they were, about to be offed by some sort of evil dark magic, and Sirius was cracking wise.
"What do we do?" James asked quietly.
"Well, I assume we've seen enough to confirm that the story is real and we are definitely about to be killed by the Well of the Damned," Sirius replied.
"Correct."
"And you thought it was all rubbish," Sirius scoffed.
"Shut up."
"Wouldn't you like that? Very well. We assume that the story is real and that deadly evil thing of certain doom in the ground over there is going to kill everyone in Hogwarts if left to its own devices. The way I figure, we have two options."
James nodded. "What's the first option?"
"We let it kill everyone in Hogwarts."
"I'd rather not let that happen. What's option the second?"
Sirius looked over to James. "The story said that the well wouldn't close again until it's been given another soul to hold onto for all of eternity."
James' mouth fell. "No. Absolutely not. I can't do it, Padfoot."
"Sure you can," Sirius cracked a hollow looking smile. "You just point your wand at me and say Avada-"
"No!" James bellowed. "I'm not going to kill you. Why does it have to be you? Why not me?"
Before he could react, Sirius had jumped to his feet and had picked James up by his shirt's collar. "Because you've got something to live for, you git. You've got Evans. You've got a family that actually gives a damn about your existence. You've got Wormtail. You've got Moony. I've got none of that.
"I'll tell you the only thing I have," Sirius continued, setting James back down on his feet. "You. That's it. You're the only thing that's ever gone right for me. You're my best mate. The only way I'd leave this chamber alive is if I could be assured you'd be coming out with me."
James rested his head against the door. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we're going to be able to walk out of here, buy a little cottage in the country, and grow old together." He patted his friend on the shoulder. "Better get used to the idea of living in a world without the illustrious James Potter."
He expected some sort of a snappy response from Sirius. James had been conditioned to expect them. Sirius would take a shot at his ego, perhaps. The response that James received wasn't that at all.
"That's what you want, then?" Sirius asked.
James hesitated. He was prepared to argue further, but Sirius had already given up the fight. A pang of sadness coursed through him. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if that quick surrender was a sign that, perhaps, their kinship wasn't as close as he thought it had been. He swallowed and shook his head. No, that wasn't it at all. Sirius, the wonderful friend he was, was giving James exactly what he wanted.
"Yes," James finally said. "Yes. That's what I want."
Sirius offered a tight frown and nodded. He took a step back and reached into his pocket to fish out his wand.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, James closed his eyes. He was ready for this. It was the right thing to do, after all. He had opened the well. Hogwarts was in danger because of him. Every student at the school, every professor was in danger. Padfoot was in danger. Wormtail was in danger. Moony was in danger. Evans was ...
Evans.
In a flash his mind began to race through his many thoughts and memories of her. The courtship rituals that had ranged from juvenile teasing to sharing a mug of butterbeer at Hogsmeade. The countless fantasies of life with Lily after Hogwarts. Now, in an instant, all of that would be snuffed out. There would be no future with Lily Evans, the beautiful, charming, kind, smart girl that had won his heart a hundred times over.
That future was gone. It was gone because James was about to die.
"Avada ..."
"No!" James' eyes snapped open. "I-I can't! I don't want to ..." he trailed off as he took a good look at his friend.
There was no wand in Sirius' hand. He had played James. Sirius must have known that James couldn't go through with it.
"That's why it has to be me, Potter," Sirius said quietly. "You've got Evans. You need her. She needs you. Now, if you tell anyone you said that I will find a way out of this well and haunt you for the rest of your days. Understand?"
James couldn't even find it in himself to chuckle. He stared numbly at his best friend, the person he had just betrayed. The friend James had betrayed for his own happiness. He watched Sirius take a step backwards, placing a hand behind his back.
"I'm sorry," James said, feeling his throat tighten. Tears began to cascade down his face.
"I know," Sirius said.
A slow rumble began to fill the chamber once again.
"I don't want to do this."
"I know."
Light began to pour out of the well as the rumble shifted into stronger tremors. Fragments of the old ceiling began to separate and crash down to the sound with sickening thuds.
"I wish it was me, Sirius," James said quietly as he raised his wand.
"No, you don't," Sirius responded with a weary smile, "but thanks for saying it."
James' heart shattered and his wand hand wavered. Choking back a sob, he closed his eyes and shouted above the roar.
"Avada ..."
~*~
James wasn't sure how long it was between the time that he had killed Sirius to the time Dumbledore had arrived.
With Sirius sacrificed, the Well of the Damned had been sealed once again. Now, however, it was host to one additional occupant that would spend the rest of eternity suffering through every torment, every fear, every nightmare imaginable.
He wasn't quite sure how he had ultimately ended up in Dumbledore's office. He wasn't quite sure how long he had sat in front of the Headmaster's desk, sobbing into his hands. At that very moment, there was only one thing he was sure of. His best friend was dead and he was responsible for it.
"I hope you understand the gravity of your situation, James," Dumbledore finally said. "You traveled into forbidden sections of this facility, sections that are forbidden for very good reasons. You unleashed a dark pool of power. You very nearly were responsible for the death of every student and faculty member here."
He affixed James with a cold stare. "You cast an unforgivable curse."
Swallowing, James finally removed his tear soaked face from his hands. He looked at Dumbledore with bleary eyes. "What are you going to do?"
"I should turn you right over to Azkaban," Dumbledore said, heaving a sigh. "You violated a very serious law and, because of that, you should be punished. You will be punished."
James felt his stomach sink, but he managed to sit up in his seat. "I understand, sir. I'm ready to go to-"
"You're not going to Azkaban," Dumbledore interrupted. "You won't learn your lesson there. No, Mr. Potter. You're going to stay right here. You're going to go to your classes. You're going to go home in the summer, and then you're going to come right back here. You'll be here until you graduate. Do you know why?"
"No, sir."
"Because you are going to come to terms with what you did. Every student you walk past will be a reminder. Each one of them is an innocent boy or girl that you very nearly killed tonight. Then, there is the matter of your friends, Mr. Potter."
James' heart sank.
"They deserve an explanation as to why Sirius Black is gone," Dumbledore continued. "I will not give you the chance to run away to Azkaban before you learn to take ownership for what you have done."
He stared at the headmaster. Why couldn't he just yell at James? Why couldn't Dumbledore ship him off to prison like he deserved?
Why was Dumbledore holding back?
"That will be all, James," Dumbledore said, standing and turning his back to him.
Standing on shaky legs, James nodded towards Dumbledore. "Professor, I'm ..." he shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"I know."
Tears began to well up in his eyes again as Dumbledore's words cut into him. Quickly, James turned and walked out of the Headmaster's chambers and down the staircase to the main hallways below. He pushed his way past the gargoyle statue that guarded the entrance to the office, but the moment he peered around the statue he was forced to stop cold in his tracks.
There, standing opposite of the entrance as if they were waiting for him, were Remus, Peter and Lily. James stared at his friends, trying to formulate what he would say to them in his emotionally drained mind. What was he going to tell them? How could he possibly say that Sirius was dead and he was the one that killed him?
He sunk to the ground. Slowly it dawned on him that the Headmaster hadn't held back at all. It was, James realized, the harshest punishment he could have been given. There was no Azkaban for him. No, that would have been the easy way out. His fate was much worse than that. His was a fate Dumbledore would forced him to endure. A fate that he had to endure.
James had trapped himself in a prison of his own making.
Finis
Rating: PG
Timeframe: Marauders era
Genre: Angst. Bucketfuls of angst.
Characters: James, Sirius, Dumbledore
Disclaimer: Don't own HP
Summary: James and Sirius unleash a dark evil that can only be re-sealed by sacrificing one of them.
Notes: This is fic is one half of a mirror-fic project witten with Inyri. The premise of the story is that James Potter and Sirius Black inadvertently release an ancient evil force. They have a short period of time to stop it before it destroys Hogwarts and the surrounding areas, but stopping it comes with the price of a life. As there were two potential outcomes, we each took one. This is my contribution. Read both, they make more sense together. And yes, this fic is clearly an AU that amounts to a character study on Sirius Black and James Potter.
To read the other half and see the reverse take, check out Inyri's "Door Number Three."
~*~
It would have been better if Dumbledore had just yelled at him.
Raised his voice.
Shouted.
Screamed if he wanted to.
This? This was far worse.
"I'm disappointed, James," Dumbledore wearily repeated. "You both knew better. You knew better."
Tears stung James' eyes once again. Dumbledore was right, of course. They did know better. They always knew better, but that had never stopped them in the past. No one had ever gotten hurt before, so what was the harm in simply exploring the grounds like they always had? James had always been keenly aware that Hogwarts, despite the fact that it was perhaps the world's premier magical arts academy, housed dark secrets.
Dark, dangerous secrets.
But those secrets were part of the school's charm, James had told himself. Besides, how dangerous could they possibly be? Whenever they went exploring, he didn't think that any serious harm would ever come to himself or any of his friends. Not for a moment. Sure, perhaps they would suffer through some sort of a curse. The time Remus had been blasted by that curse that caused him to speak in reverse for the better part of a week at least had been amusing.
Perhaps after five years, they had gotten complacent.
Through blurry vision, James looked up at the Headmaster. The man's usual warm, affable disposition had vanished. James realized with almost a start that Dumbledore suddenly looked to be every one of his years. The Headmaster regarded James with a neutral look. Oh, how James wanted him to flash the reassuring smile that he had grown so used to and had come to appreciate. Perhaps even reach across his desk and pat James on the shoulder.
Instead, Dumbledore gave a small shake of his head and looked away.
James swallowed and tried to fight back the tears that had welled up in his eyes to no avail. He buried his face in his hands, partly out of reflex, but mostly to hide the absolute anguish and shame he was displaying from Dumbledore. The silent tears turned into sniffles, the sniffles to anguished groans, the groans to choked sobs. In part, it was a reaction to the emotional hell he had been through. Mostly, he would later reflect, it was a desperate plea for consolation from the man he admired so.
But Dumbledore didn't smile. He didn't pat James on the shoulder and tell him that everything was going to be okay.
That was to be expected, he realized. You don't give murderers a smile and a reassuring pat.
~*~
"Moony," James whispered, shaking his shoulder. "Moony! Get up!"
Remus groaned and opened a single eye, glaring at James. "What time is it?"
"A little after midnight," James replied. "Come on, get up."
"Unless the common room is on fire or the kitchen is having a midnight pastry serving, you would be wise to let me go back to sleep before I'm awake enough to think of a hex to put on you," Remus muttered. "You didn't set the common room on fire again, did you?"
"No, and I keep telling you, that was an accident." James tugged on his friend's arm. "Now come on, get up. Sirius is waiting for is in the hall."
Remus pulled his arm away. "You're going exploring again, aren't you?"
"What else would we be doing at this hour? We saw something interesting on the map and we want to go check it out."
"I see. Now, let's just play through the normal conversation. I'll say, 'James are you bloody mad? We have an exam first thing in the morning.' You'll counter with, 'I'll be fine. By the way, can I crib your notes from you before breakfast?' I'll snap right back and say, 'Fine, but this is the last time, Potter. Study the damn material yourself before the next exam.'"
"Delightful," James rolled his eyes. "Now that we're through with formalities, will you get up so we can go?"
"No," Remus replied flatly. "First, I'm tired. Second, I lied. You can't have my notes because I lost them three days ago. Third ..." he paused. "Well there is no third, really. If you want someone else to go with you, ask Wormtail."
"Can't. Wormtail tried the mystery meat dish so he's in the Hospital wing with a dozen other unfortunate souls."
"Figures the one thing he's adventurous about is his food palate."
James chuckled. "No chance I can talk you into joining us?"
"None at all. You and Padfoot run along and enjoy your date now. I promise not to tell Lily."
James flashed Remus an amused smirk and a decidedly unflattering gesture before quietly leaving, taking care not to wake anyone else up as he made his way to the halls outside the common room. He was a bit disappointed that Remus and Peter wouldn't be with them as per usual, but that wasn't about to stop him from going on this mini-excursion. He caught sight of Sirius standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"I told you the git wouldn't show up," Sirius said. "Not after he spent a week talking backwards."
"You know, I kept trying to tell him he made more sense that way," James replied. "I maintain that curse did him a favor."
"Easily the most carefree week of my life," Sirius deadpanned. "Now let's get going already."
Hidden under James' invisibility cloak, they descended into the depths of Hogwarts. One dark corridor gave way to a cobweb riddled staircase, which gave way to another dark corridor, which gave way to another cobweb riddled staircase. They continued their descent, lower and lower into reaches of the school that likely had not been traversed in hundreds of years. James realized dully that they had now travelled deeper than they ever had in the past. How long had they been on the move? He had lost track.
Eventually, they arrived at their destination. James pulled off the cloak and stowed it in his bag. He glanced at Sirius for a moment before walking towards the surprisingly nondescript wooden door. Without so much as a thought, he took a hold of the large brass ring door handle and wrapped his fingers firmly around it.
Almost instantly the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A chill washed over him. On reflex, James let go of the ring and took a step back. His heart raced and his breath was suddenly shallow.
"You okay?" Sirius asked. "Don't tell me you're getting the creeps now."
"I'm ..." He shook his head and took a deep breath. "I'm fine."
"Well come along, then."
He watched as Sirius took a hold of the handle. For the briefest of moments, Sirius paused, inhaling sharply. Had he felt the same thing? He glanced over his shoulder at James and offered a nervous smile before pulling back on the handle. The door didn't immediately budge, perhaps because the hinges had seized in place long ago. Sirius folded his other hand around the ring and began to pull. Slowly, the old door began to budge. A low growl filled the hallway as the bottom of the door scraped against the stone floor.
Sirius looked over his shoulder. "Coming?"
James swallowed. He was still rattled over the cold rush that had overcome him only moments earlier. He inhaled through clenched teeth and stood a bit straighter, a show of resolve for no one but himself. With a nod, he took a step forward and placed a foot into the long forgotten Well of the Damned.
"The story goes that these halls were once a temporary holding prison," Sirius said quietly. "Hundreds of years ago the worst criminals imaginable were brought here. Murderers, practitioners of the dark arts. It's said that they were brought here for one reason only."
James took another step into the chamber but nearly had the wind knocked out of him, recoiling as the acrid, stale air hit his nose. He held up his wand and muttered "lumos," providing a bit more light for his eyes. Slowly he cast his gaze around the room, spotting precious little other than bare walls covered by dust and cobwebs. Another step forward. His footfall echoed throughout the room. He held out his hand, illuminating the floor in the center of the dark chamber.
There, in the middle of the floor, was a short, circular object. James carefully approached it and saw that it was made of carved stone, much like old water wells he had seen in older communities like Hogsmeade. The top had been sealed with what looked like a metal grate of sorts.
"And, supposedly, this is the Well of the Damned," Sirius stood next to James. "The souls and auras of the condemned are contained within it, partly as a measure to ensure they could never hurt anyone in their afterlife, partly as a form of punishment. Those who were executed in this room were doomed to have their souls spend all of time within this well, trapped with countless others who were just as corrupt as you were.
"Sounds like a lousy way to spend your afterlife," James said, managing a grin.
"You have no idea," Sirius continued. "The story goes on to say that the well is alive. It's aware, it thinks for itself. It exists to torment the souls buried within it. Some say that if you're trapped within it, it takes an eternity to project nightmares and horror. Your disembodied self spends the rest of its existence being subjected to every fear and torment imaginable. And some you can't quite imagine.
"If you were going to commit someone to the well," Sirius said, "you had better be sure you were ready to execute someone immediately. Once it's open, it won't close again until it's been fed a soul to feast on. Of course, if it remains open for too long, it .." he paused. "May not be able to contain what's held within it."
James raised a brow. "Are you saying the well would throw up its lunch?"
"That about covers it," Sirius said. "Imagine, though. Hundreds, maybe thousands of evil souls getting out of there, lusting for vengeance for the years they've spent in the worst hell imaginable."
He blinked. "Padfoot, that may be one of the most absurd stories I've ever heard." James took another step closer, knocking on the heavy, metal grate on top of it. "Well of the Damned. You know as well as I do this was probably just a water well."
Sirius shrugged. "I didn't say I believed it, that's how the story goes. Don't tell me that you weren't the tiniest bit spooked."
"Perish the thought," James replied, raising his wand with a mischievous grin. "I'll even prove it to you."
His friend's expression suddenly hardened. "You're not actually going to open it up, are you?"
"Why shouldn't I? You just said you didn't believe the story. Besides, what's an old water well going to do to us?"
Sirius seemed placated by his answer. Grinning, James turned to face the well. He opened his mouth to utter a spell, but found his voice caught in his throat. The chill he had felt when he touched the brass ring returned. His wand hand wavered. James blinked and shook his head. He wasn't about to back down now. With a still voice, he muttered the spell. A streak of light shot from his wand to the metal grate, causing it to fly off of the wall and crash down onto the floor with a loud clanging. James braced himself for ... He wasn't sure, but he braced himself.
Then he waited. Idly he realized he had clamped his eyes shut as he had cast the spell. Gingerly, he opened one eye, peering around the room before settling on the well. Nothing had happened. He carefully stuck his head over it, scanning down the depths of the well. Smiling he turned around to face his friend.
"Told you that story was rubbish," he gloated.
He spoke to soon. He always spoke to soon. Lily often liked to point that out to him every time he lodged his foot firmly in his mouth. A low rumble began to fill the chamber. The rumble increased in intensity, causing the room to shake violently. James felt his feet knocked out from under him. He landed on his back, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of his lungs.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Sirius' hand. James took it and was helped onto his feet. The scrambled for the open doorway, hearts pounding with both exertion and absolute fear. Just as they reached it, the heavy door slammed shut as if compelled by an unseen force. He watched as Sirius threw his shoulder against it, trying to jar it open to no avail. James threw his back against the now closed door, staring wide eyed at the well.
The rumbling subsided. For the briefest of moments, James felt himself relaxing. He told himself that he was right, the story had been nothing but hogwash.
Then the light emerged from the center of the wall. It was a sickly, eerie green orb that slowly approached them. As it neared, the orb seemed to shift, it's form taking a more oblong shape. Two depressions appeared near the top, quickly filled by two smaller green orbs. A wiry mouth and nose appeared on the object. It finally came to a stop in midair, directly in front of James. He held his breath and stood perfectly still, afraid to even blink.
The floating, translucent head suddenly scowled. "The well shall remain open until the condemned has been put to death."
With that, the apparition vanished.
James slumped to the floor, his eyes locked onto the open well in front of the. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his chest tight.
"What have I done?" he asked.
"I do believe you've killed us all," Sirius muttered. "Probably was just a matter of time, I suppose. If only you could have held off another year, I would have won the pool."
James turned his head slowly to look at his friend, unsure whether to be appalled or to laugh. "You gambled on when I'd get all of us killed? How, pray tell, were you supposed to collect your winnings if we were all dead?"
"I suppose we didn't think that one all the way through."
Despite himself, James tilted his head back and laughed. How did he do it? How could Sirius always manage to make him laugh in the most absurdly inappropriate situations? Here they were, about to be offed by some sort of evil dark magic, and Sirius was cracking wise.
"What do we do?" James asked quietly.
"Well, I assume we've seen enough to confirm that the story is real and we are definitely about to be killed by the Well of the Damned," Sirius replied.
"Correct."
"And you thought it was all rubbish," Sirius scoffed.
"Shut up."
"Wouldn't you like that? Very well. We assume that the story is real and that deadly evil thing of certain doom in the ground over there is going to kill everyone in Hogwarts if left to its own devices. The way I figure, we have two options."
James nodded. "What's the first option?"
"We let it kill everyone in Hogwarts."
"I'd rather not let that happen. What's option the second?"
Sirius looked over to James. "The story said that the well wouldn't close again until it's been given another soul to hold onto for all of eternity."
James' mouth fell. "No. Absolutely not. I can't do it, Padfoot."
"Sure you can," Sirius cracked a hollow looking smile. "You just point your wand at me and say Avada-"
"No!" James bellowed. "I'm not going to kill you. Why does it have to be you? Why not me?"
Before he could react, Sirius had jumped to his feet and had picked James up by his shirt's collar. "Because you've got something to live for, you git. You've got Evans. You've got a family that actually gives a damn about your existence. You've got Wormtail. You've got Moony. I've got none of that.
"I'll tell you the only thing I have," Sirius continued, setting James back down on his feet. "You. That's it. You're the only thing that's ever gone right for me. You're my best mate. The only way I'd leave this chamber alive is if I could be assured you'd be coming out with me."
James rested his head against the door. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we're going to be able to walk out of here, buy a little cottage in the country, and grow old together." He patted his friend on the shoulder. "Better get used to the idea of living in a world without the illustrious James Potter."
He expected some sort of a snappy response from Sirius. James had been conditioned to expect them. Sirius would take a shot at his ego, perhaps. The response that James received wasn't that at all.
"That's what you want, then?" Sirius asked.
James hesitated. He was prepared to argue further, but Sirius had already given up the fight. A pang of sadness coursed through him. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if that quick surrender was a sign that, perhaps, their kinship wasn't as close as he thought it had been. He swallowed and shook his head. No, that wasn't it at all. Sirius, the wonderful friend he was, was giving James exactly what he wanted.
"Yes," James finally said. "Yes. That's what I want."
Sirius offered a tight frown and nodded. He took a step back and reached into his pocket to fish out his wand.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, James closed his eyes. He was ready for this. It was the right thing to do, after all. He had opened the well. Hogwarts was in danger because of him. Every student at the school, every professor was in danger. Padfoot was in danger. Wormtail was in danger. Moony was in danger. Evans was ...
Evans.
In a flash his mind began to race through his many thoughts and memories of her. The courtship rituals that had ranged from juvenile teasing to sharing a mug of butterbeer at Hogsmeade. The countless fantasies of life with Lily after Hogwarts. Now, in an instant, all of that would be snuffed out. There would be no future with Lily Evans, the beautiful, charming, kind, smart girl that had won his heart a hundred times over.
That future was gone. It was gone because James was about to die.
"Avada ..."
"No!" James' eyes snapped open. "I-I can't! I don't want to ..." he trailed off as he took a good look at his friend.
There was no wand in Sirius' hand. He had played James. Sirius must have known that James couldn't go through with it.
"That's why it has to be me, Potter," Sirius said quietly. "You've got Evans. You need her. She needs you. Now, if you tell anyone you said that I will find a way out of this well and haunt you for the rest of your days. Understand?"
James couldn't even find it in himself to chuckle. He stared numbly at his best friend, the person he had just betrayed. The friend James had betrayed for his own happiness. He watched Sirius take a step backwards, placing a hand behind his back.
"I'm sorry," James said, feeling his throat tighten. Tears began to cascade down his face.
"I know," Sirius said.
A slow rumble began to fill the chamber once again.
"I don't want to do this."
"I know."
Light began to pour out of the well as the rumble shifted into stronger tremors. Fragments of the old ceiling began to separate and crash down to the sound with sickening thuds.
"I wish it was me, Sirius," James said quietly as he raised his wand.
"No, you don't," Sirius responded with a weary smile, "but thanks for saying it."
James' heart shattered and his wand hand wavered. Choking back a sob, he closed his eyes and shouted above the roar.
"Avada ..."
~*~
James wasn't sure how long it was between the time that he had killed Sirius to the time Dumbledore had arrived.
With Sirius sacrificed, the Well of the Damned had been sealed once again. Now, however, it was host to one additional occupant that would spend the rest of eternity suffering through every torment, every fear, every nightmare imaginable.
He wasn't quite sure how he had ultimately ended up in Dumbledore's office. He wasn't quite sure how long he had sat in front of the Headmaster's desk, sobbing into his hands. At that very moment, there was only one thing he was sure of. His best friend was dead and he was responsible for it.
"I hope you understand the gravity of your situation, James," Dumbledore finally said. "You traveled into forbidden sections of this facility, sections that are forbidden for very good reasons. You unleashed a dark pool of power. You very nearly were responsible for the death of every student and faculty member here."
He affixed James with a cold stare. "You cast an unforgivable curse."
Swallowing, James finally removed his tear soaked face from his hands. He looked at Dumbledore with bleary eyes. "What are you going to do?"
"I should turn you right over to Azkaban," Dumbledore said, heaving a sigh. "You violated a very serious law and, because of that, you should be punished. You will be punished."
James felt his stomach sink, but he managed to sit up in his seat. "I understand, sir. I'm ready to go to-"
"You're not going to Azkaban," Dumbledore interrupted. "You won't learn your lesson there. No, Mr. Potter. You're going to stay right here. You're going to go to your classes. You're going to go home in the summer, and then you're going to come right back here. You'll be here until you graduate. Do you know why?"
"No, sir."
"Because you are going to come to terms with what you did. Every student you walk past will be a reminder. Each one of them is an innocent boy or girl that you very nearly killed tonight. Then, there is the matter of your friends, Mr. Potter."
James' heart sank.
"They deserve an explanation as to why Sirius Black is gone," Dumbledore continued. "I will not give you the chance to run away to Azkaban before you learn to take ownership for what you have done."
He stared at the headmaster. Why couldn't he just yell at James? Why couldn't Dumbledore ship him off to prison like he deserved?
Why was Dumbledore holding back?
"That will be all, James," Dumbledore said, standing and turning his back to him.
Standing on shaky legs, James nodded towards Dumbledore. "Professor, I'm ..." he shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"I know."
Tears began to well up in his eyes again as Dumbledore's words cut into him. Quickly, James turned and walked out of the Headmaster's chambers and down the staircase to the main hallways below. He pushed his way past the gargoyle statue that guarded the entrance to the office, but the moment he peered around the statue he was forced to stop cold in his tracks.
There, standing opposite of the entrance as if they were waiting for him, were Remus, Peter and Lily. James stared at his friends, trying to formulate what he would say to them in his emotionally drained mind. What was he going to tell them? How could he possibly say that Sirius was dead and he was the one that killed him?
He sunk to the ground. Slowly it dawned on him that the Headmaster hadn't held back at all. It was, James realized, the harshest punishment he could have been given. There was no Azkaban for him. No, that would have been the easy way out. His fate was much worse than that. His was a fate Dumbledore would forced him to endure. A fate that he had to endure.
James had trapped himself in a prison of his own making.
Finis