[fic] Bloody Torchwood (6/18)
Title: Bloody Torchwood (6/18)
Author: noscrubs12345
sirius100 Prompt: Variations on Reality (original)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: Sirius Black knew there was something he didn't like about Cardiff. He just didn't expect it to be a rift in time and space. But, once taken, will he be able to make it back to the wizarding world? Or will he be stuck with bloody Torchwood if his friends don't find him first? And what does a mysterious blonde woman have to do with the strange blue box hidden inside the Department of Mysteries?
Warnings: crossover, spoilers through Torchwood series two and Doctor Who series four
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, Russell T Davies, the BBC, various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Missed the beginning?: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV || Part V
or
Bloody Torchwood @ AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ianto waited, mouth agape and eyes fixed on Jack as he waited for him to react. The captain’s eyes were locked on Black and his hands were shaking as he lowered his gun. He swore, somewhat colourfully if he recongised Jack’s tone, in a language Ianto couldn’t place and shoved the Webley back into its holster. Drawing himself to his full height, Jack strode towards them.
Ianto was impressed when Black didn’t cower under Jack’s best glare.
“You need to know something,” Jack said evenly. “Don’t think I don’t know how you’re feeling. Don’t know what it’s like to be stranded someplace out of your time and not know what’s happening to your friends and family because I’ve been there and done that. I’d love to help you get back to you own time, but you’re stuck here unless you can use your ‘magic’ to control the Rift and get yourself back!”
“Jack?” Ianto called when Jack paused, voice unsure as he glanced between him and Black.
Jack snapped from his reverie and met Ianto’s eyes. He smiled softly and Jack deflated with a slump of his shoulders. Jack looked down at the ground, toeing a rock for a moment, and all Ianto wanted to do was stand and wrap his arms around him. He settled, instead, for leaning back into the hand Jack placed on his shoulder. Black stiffened and glanced warily between them.
“Look,” Jack said softly, not looking at Black, “you said you were in Cardiff with Remus last night, and if I’m not mistaken, you were going to say he was your boyfriend before you corrected yourself. Want to tell us about him?”
Black’s faced hardened, his grey eyes shining defiantly. Jack was right then. “What the hell are you playing at?”
“I’m not going to lock you up, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Jack said with a bitter laugh. As an afterthought he added, “Well, not for that anyway. I’d be a terrible hypocrite if I did. Hell, I shared a cell with Oscar Wilde once.”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe a word he says, except that bit for being a hypocrite. Things have changed since the Seventies. If you find your friend, then we’ll be more than happy to help. Trust us on that.” He tried to give Black a reassuring smile, and he knew it became a real one as he felt Jack squeeze his shoulder. Black didn’t miss the motion and some of his anger seemed to leave him. “Now, you’re weren’t injured from coming through the Rift that we can tell, which is very unusual. Most of those it takes don’t come back intact.”
“What do you mean ‘Rift?’” Black said, looking between them. “I remember one of you mentioning a rift in space and time last night. That’s not possible, right?”
“It's just as possible as magic,” Jack said with a wide, shit-eating grin. “It’s exactly what it says on the tin. There's a tear in the fabric of reality, and Cardiff just so happens to be smack on top of it.”
“There’s got to be a better way to say that,” Ianto quipped, looking up at Jack.
“Why? What’s the matter with it?” Jack returned Ianto’s look with a frown of his own.
“It’s a bit...to the point,” he said, and turned back to Black. “We’re a top secret organisation who has to police it, which usually means chasing all sorts of aliens through Cardiff or picking up what rubbish it spits out. We should at least try to be a bit more, well, secret, don’t you think? Seems like we’re telling someone that every other week. I don’t think it’s going to be a secret much longer; I mean, ask most people about Torchwood and they point towards the bay.”
He could hear Jack’s sigh. “Clever, Ianto.”
“I thought so, sir.”
Jack gave his shoulder a final pat before he too sat down on the ground. “So,” Jack said, drawing out the word as he looked back at Black. “Tell us about this Remus? Maybe a last name? Whether he’s a cute as you are?”
“Why should I?” Black said, and he looked as if he didn’t know what to make of Jack’s last remark. “So you can lock me up again? Find him and lock him away too? Isn’t that what your lot does to wizards before burning us at the stake?”
“You want us to help you? That’s what we’re trying to do, but you need to help us a little too. You came through the Rift during a negative spike, which means it took something or returned something or someone previously taken, but you’re obviously not injured. Now that sounds weird-the people the Rift takes and spits back out have been to hell and back, but here you are, good as gold aside from some possible head trauma because magic doesn’t exist!”
“What the hell do you want me to tell you anyway?” Black shouted, wrapping his arms around himself again and starting to rock back and forth. “You’ll just throw me back into that cell!”
Ianto felt Jack flinch beside him. Discreetly, he reached over and laid his hand on Jack's thigh. Jack sighed heavily and placed his hand over Ianto's. When he turned his hand to weave their fingers together, Jack gripped his hand tight, clinging to him. Maybe bringing Black to Flat Holm first had been a mistake, but it wasn’t as if there was anyone back at the Hub to do a physical exam, and who could know what the doctors at A&E would have done if he hadn’t happened to be human. “I’m sorry we brought you here. This place...this place isn’t a prison.”
“Well, it feels like one,” Black pouted and rested his forehead on his knees. “Those people back at whatever it is then…what’s wrong with them?”
“Like I said, they were ravaged by space and time when the Rift took them. They weren’t as lucky as you. They didn’t land somewhere safe, like Cardiff in another time, and were hurt or traumatised by what they saw. Here they can live out the rest of their lives in relative peace.”
“Oh.”
Ianto watched as Black frowned. “So that’s what you do, then? Make sure people are safe?”
Ianto cleared his throat, smiling at the man when he looked up. “You could say that. We do our best to make sure that’s the case. Sometimes things go wrong and we have to try to fix it before it gets too bad.”
Black seemed to think that over for moment before he raised his head.
***
Sirius had a feeling Jones wasn’t taking the piss. He stared past Harkness’s shoulder for a moment, eyes not really seeing anything as he thought. Maybe if he was stuck in the future, Remus, James and Peter were waiting out there for him. Obviously, if these two Muggles were here talking to him, Voldemort didn’t succeed. He sighed, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that told him his friends could have died to win the war, and met Jones’s eyes.
“Can this Rift take me back home?” he asked. His heart sank when something passed over the man’s face.
“It’s not impossible,” the American said instead, “but it’s very, very unlikely.”
Sirius nodded and let his gaze wander over the island. He flinched when a raindrop landed on his cheek and looked up at the gathering thunderheads.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, not looking away from the clouds as the first few heavy drops landed on his face.
“That depends,” Harkness said after a moment. “What do you want to know?”
Sirius looked back over at him, studying both his face and the Welshman’s before sitting up straighter. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“You can tell us how you got out of the bunker, for starters,” Jones said softly, meeting his eyes. They were sincere, and when he looked away his gaze travelled down to where the younger man's hand was entwined with Harkness's.
Sirius let out a breath and decided to hell with the Statute of Secrecy. “Uncontrolled magic. If a witch or wizard feels threatened, he or she can use magic without a wand.”
“So, I’m guessing a wand simply channels the magic,” Harkness thought out loud. Sirius saw him take in a deep breath and hold it in for a moment before letting it out. “There are no ghost dogs in Wales.”
Jones coughed.
“That aren't associated with other ghosts,” Harkness added, “or that don’t look like something Sherlock Holmes should be chasing across the moors. Ianto?”
“Good enough, sir,” the Welshman called back. He grinned when he saw Sirius smile a little.
“Care to explain?”
Sirius glared between the two of them. “What if I don’t tell you?”
“Then we assume you’re a threat, take you back to our base, and then either lock you up or dissect you,” the American said, eyebrows raised, and Sirius shivered. He couldn't tell if he was joking. “Or you tell us the truth, we determine your threat level, and either take you back to base or back under to see how we can help each other. Your choice. I don’t really care. You see, we’ve had a pretty bad experience with shapeshifters recently and I’d prefer not to get the big gun out. But, still, it’s your choice.”
He could tell Jones was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. Harkness threw the man a Look and Sirius sighed. The pair were an odd one, he decided. He didn’t understand half of what they were on about. Perhaps they were feeling the say way about him.
Jones cleared his throat and looked back at him, nodding towards him. He sighed and rubbed his upper arms as another shiver wracked his body. “Some witches and wizards can turn into animals.”
“That’s not an uncommon assumption,” Jones said and Sirius felt his shoulders slump in relief.
Finally they were getting somewhere. He gave the Welshman a wry smile. “You’d be surprised. There aren’t many that can, and those who can are called Animagi.”
Jones returned the smile. “I meant it’s not unheard of. In folklore, you can tell a familiar--”
“So,” Harkness interrupted, head cocked to the side, “I’m assuming you’re one of those that can shapeshift, then.”
Sirius nodded. “I am.”
“And Remus?”
Sirius stared at the American’s boots for a moment before answering. “No. I became an Animagus to help him. He’s...ill. James, Peter and I thought it would help him if we did. It worked.” He ignored his voice as it broke.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jones asked quietly.
Sirius looked up at him and out the corner of his eye saw Harkness give the Welshman a strange look.
“You wouldn’t believe me,” Sirius said simply and wondered if he imagined the phantom pain that flickered for a moment before it died behind the man’s blue eyes.
“You know, I’m getting tired of this ‘you won’t believe it’ shtick,” Harkness said curtly. “You’d be surprised by what would surprise us.”
Jones rolled his eyes.
Sirius rolled his own. “You won’t think I’m mad?”
“No madder than the rest of us,” Harkness said with a blinding grin. “Being mad is part of the Torchwood job description.”
“It’s really not my place to tell, but….” Sirius looked down at the ground, hands resting atop his knees. “He’s a werewolf.”
***
“‘The Darkness?’” James sing-songed as he leaned forward in his chair. “‘The Darkness is coming?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Shut it, Prongs,” Remus said, shooting him a glare. “I think what James is trying to say, Albus, is what is the Darkness and what does it have to do with Sirius?”
Dumbledore didn’t look away from the window. “There’s something moving in it. Something’s coming.”
“As creepy as that is,” James said, “that means nothing to us right now.”
Remus started to worry his lip and turned to study Dumbledore. He looked his age-ancient eyes set in an ancient face-and his lips were pursed as he stared blindly into the night. He placed a hand on the cold pane, pressing against the glass; Remus shivered. He could feel the cold creeping in through the cracks around the window even though he sat next to the fire.
“It means something is wrong,” Dumbledore started softly. “Very wrong. If the stars are going out, it means the end of everything.”
“And we’re sure this isn’t Voldemort’s doing?” James frowned.
“Positive.” Dumbledore turned around and leaned against the window frame. “Voldemort doesn’t have enough power. This is bigger than the Dark Lord. In fact, I’d be surprised if he even knew about it.”
“So who or what is doing this?” Remus asked just as James opened his mouth. He quelled the small feeling of pride he got at that. “Are we fighting the wrong person?”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen so soon,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s out there, but that’s not important right now. Our main priority is getting Sirius back.”
“And how are we doing that, exactly?” James asked and ran a hand through his hair. “How do we even know where he is?”
“We don’t know anything, do we?” Remus added quietly. “If the Rift transports things through time and space, he could be on any planet and in any time, past or future.”
“What about a Time-Turner? We could go back in time and stop it from taking him, couldn’t we?”
James’s voice sounded resigned to Remus. Reaching over, he gave his shoulder a squeeze. James just stared vacantly back at him.
Dumbledore was studying a spot on the floor when they turned back to him. “I suppose...but we don’t know what the ramifications would be.”
“This would have never happened,” James said with a nod. “Simple as that.”
“Things are never quiet as simple as they may seem,” Dumbledore said as he pushed away from the window. He started to pace the small space between it and bed. “We don’t know what it would change.”
“But it’s only just happened,” Remus said. “We could prevent it from ever happening in the first place.”
“Or time could be in flux,” Dumbledore countered and stuck his hands into his pockets. “Or this could be a fact. If it is and doesn’t happen as it’s supposed to, it could corrupt the timeline and cause a paradox.”
“Which means?”
“That whatever’s in the Darkness wouldn’t matter,” Remus said, looking at Dumbledore. “Voldemort wouldn’t even matter anymore. The world would end.”
“Hold on,” James said, scooting to the edge of seat. “What is the Darkness, exactly? How do we know it’s going to destroy anything, let alone the universe?”
“That, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said, stopping his pacing to frown at them, “is the question. We don’t know what’s out there or at best we have theories as to what exactly the Darkness is. The only people who could tell us died a long time ago.”
“Then can’t we use a Time-Turner? Go back and ask for help?” James shouted. “We can’t just sit around discussing the cosmos and licking our wounds! My best mate is out there somewhere-somewhere he isn’t meant to be! We have to find him. Who’s going to be the baby’s godfather if he isn’t here? What are we all supposed to do without him? We need him!”
“James, please just ca-“ Remus started.
“No, Remus, don’t you tell me to calm down!” James pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare! For someone whose boyfriend has just disappeared off the face of the Earth, you’re taking this very well.”
“We don’t know that!” Remus yelled back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore pinching the bridge of his nose.
“He hasn’t Flooed, hasn’t Apparated, hasn’t let us know he’s fine! He would’ve done already if he’d still been here! Hell, we’d have heard from the Death Eaters by now if they had anything to do with it! Moody's even been checking Muggle police reports and hospitals! No contact, no Dark Mark, nothing!”
“What if he’s injured? Unconscious? Somewhere he can’t contact us or get back?”
“There still would have been a report-someone would have contacted someone!”
“Like his family? They’d rather watch him die.”
James growled, dropping forcefully back into his chair. “We’d know! You can’t pretend everything’s going to be fine! We all know what silence means by now!”
“If I think about it, I’ll go mad! Right now, I can’t let myself believe he’s not coming back because I can’t, James,” Remus shouted, slumping back in his chair and rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. He ignored the sting of tears and took a few deep breaths. “Sorry.”
“No, I should be. I was out of line,” James said, reaching over to lay a hand on Remus’s forearm.
They turned back to Dumbledore when he cleared his throat.
“Feeling better?” he asked, the usual twinkle in his eye replaced by a look of understanding.
“No,” James answered for the both of them. He gave Remus’s arm another pat before letting go. “How are we going to find him?”
Dumbledore smiled. “I have an idea. James, have you heard anything about the object the Department of Mysteries retrieved from Hogsmeade?”
James snorted. “Not much; just rumours here and there. They don’t call them Unspeakables because it sounds posh.”
“Rosmerta mentioned it when I came in,” Remus whispered. “She said everyone was afraid of it. That it seemed like the thing itself was in pain.”
Dumbledore nodded. “One can never be too cautious in times like these, but they shouldn’t be worrying. The box itself is harmless, and if what I think has happened for it to be in pain, then I fear the worst. Did she mention if they found anything inside?”
“Just that the Unspeakables said it was Voldemort’s doing and took it back with them.” Remus swallowed. “She...she also said the Darkness was coming.”
“Anything else?” Dumbledore asked and Remus tried not to shudder at the intensity of his stare. “Anything at all?”
“This woman walked in. Overhead Rosie mentioning the Darkness. She said she’d heard that before.”
“Oh, yes. Of all the pubs in all of Scotland, some bird has to walk into ours,” James muttered.
Remus didn’t know whether to smile or frown at his friend. “She seemed an odd sort.”
“Odd how, Remus?” Dumbledore asked. He walked to the end of the bed and sat down, hands clasped between his knees and brows furrowed. He was staring, waiting for an answer, at Remus as if he had just discovered a new use for dragon’s blood.
Part VII
Author: noscrubs12345
sirius100 Prompt: Variations on Reality (original)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: Sirius Black knew there was something he didn't like about Cardiff. He just didn't expect it to be a rift in time and space. But, once taken, will he be able to make it back to the wizarding world? Or will he be stuck with bloody Torchwood if his friends don't find him first? And what does a mysterious blonde woman have to do with the strange blue box hidden inside the Department of Mysteries?
Warnings: crossover, spoilers through Torchwood series two and Doctor Who series four
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, Russell T Davies, the BBC, various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Missed the beginning?: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV || Part V
or
Bloody Torchwood @ AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ianto waited, mouth agape and eyes fixed on Jack as he waited for him to react. The captain’s eyes were locked on Black and his hands were shaking as he lowered his gun. He swore, somewhat colourfully if he recongised Jack’s tone, in a language Ianto couldn’t place and shoved the Webley back into its holster. Drawing himself to his full height, Jack strode towards them.
Ianto was impressed when Black didn’t cower under Jack’s best glare.
“You need to know something,” Jack said evenly. “Don’t think I don’t know how you’re feeling. Don’t know what it’s like to be stranded someplace out of your time and not know what’s happening to your friends and family because I’ve been there and done that. I’d love to help you get back to you own time, but you’re stuck here unless you can use your ‘magic’ to control the Rift and get yourself back!”
“Jack?” Ianto called when Jack paused, voice unsure as he glanced between him and Black.
Jack snapped from his reverie and met Ianto’s eyes. He smiled softly and Jack deflated with a slump of his shoulders. Jack looked down at the ground, toeing a rock for a moment, and all Ianto wanted to do was stand and wrap his arms around him. He settled, instead, for leaning back into the hand Jack placed on his shoulder. Black stiffened and glanced warily between them.
“Look,” Jack said softly, not looking at Black, “you said you were in Cardiff with Remus last night, and if I’m not mistaken, you were going to say he was your boyfriend before you corrected yourself. Want to tell us about him?”
Black’s faced hardened, his grey eyes shining defiantly. Jack was right then. “What the hell are you playing at?”
“I’m not going to lock you up, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Jack said with a bitter laugh. As an afterthought he added, “Well, not for that anyway. I’d be a terrible hypocrite if I did. Hell, I shared a cell with Oscar Wilde once.”
Ianto rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe a word he says, except that bit for being a hypocrite. Things have changed since the Seventies. If you find your friend, then we’ll be more than happy to help. Trust us on that.” He tried to give Black a reassuring smile, and he knew it became a real one as he felt Jack squeeze his shoulder. Black didn’t miss the motion and some of his anger seemed to leave him. “Now, you’re weren’t injured from coming through the Rift that we can tell, which is very unusual. Most of those it takes don’t come back intact.”
“What do you mean ‘Rift?’” Black said, looking between them. “I remember one of you mentioning a rift in space and time last night. That’s not possible, right?”
“It's just as possible as magic,” Jack said with a wide, shit-eating grin. “It’s exactly what it says on the tin. There's a tear in the fabric of reality, and Cardiff just so happens to be smack on top of it.”
“There’s got to be a better way to say that,” Ianto quipped, looking up at Jack.
“Why? What’s the matter with it?” Jack returned Ianto’s look with a frown of his own.
“It’s a bit...to the point,” he said, and turned back to Black. “We’re a top secret organisation who has to police it, which usually means chasing all sorts of aliens through Cardiff or picking up what rubbish it spits out. We should at least try to be a bit more, well, secret, don’t you think? Seems like we’re telling someone that every other week. I don’t think it’s going to be a secret much longer; I mean, ask most people about Torchwood and they point towards the bay.”
He could hear Jack’s sigh. “Clever, Ianto.”
“I thought so, sir.”
Jack gave his shoulder a final pat before he too sat down on the ground. “So,” Jack said, drawing out the word as he looked back at Black. “Tell us about this Remus? Maybe a last name? Whether he’s a cute as you are?”
“Why should I?” Black said, and he looked as if he didn’t know what to make of Jack’s last remark. “So you can lock me up again? Find him and lock him away too? Isn’t that what your lot does to wizards before burning us at the stake?”
“You want us to help you? That’s what we’re trying to do, but you need to help us a little too. You came through the Rift during a negative spike, which means it took something or returned something or someone previously taken, but you’re obviously not injured. Now that sounds weird-the people the Rift takes and spits back out have been to hell and back, but here you are, good as gold aside from some possible head trauma because magic doesn’t exist!”
“What the hell do you want me to tell you anyway?” Black shouted, wrapping his arms around himself again and starting to rock back and forth. “You’ll just throw me back into that cell!”
Ianto felt Jack flinch beside him. Discreetly, he reached over and laid his hand on Jack's thigh. Jack sighed heavily and placed his hand over Ianto's. When he turned his hand to weave their fingers together, Jack gripped his hand tight, clinging to him. Maybe bringing Black to Flat Holm first had been a mistake, but it wasn’t as if there was anyone back at the Hub to do a physical exam, and who could know what the doctors at A&E would have done if he hadn’t happened to be human. “I’m sorry we brought you here. This place...this place isn’t a prison.”
“Well, it feels like one,” Black pouted and rested his forehead on his knees. “Those people back at whatever it is then…what’s wrong with them?”
“Like I said, they were ravaged by space and time when the Rift took them. They weren’t as lucky as you. They didn’t land somewhere safe, like Cardiff in another time, and were hurt or traumatised by what they saw. Here they can live out the rest of their lives in relative peace.”
“Oh.”
Ianto watched as Black frowned. “So that’s what you do, then? Make sure people are safe?”
Ianto cleared his throat, smiling at the man when he looked up. “You could say that. We do our best to make sure that’s the case. Sometimes things go wrong and we have to try to fix it before it gets too bad.”
Black seemed to think that over for moment before he raised his head.
***
Sirius had a feeling Jones wasn’t taking the piss. He stared past Harkness’s shoulder for a moment, eyes not really seeing anything as he thought. Maybe if he was stuck in the future, Remus, James and Peter were waiting out there for him. Obviously, if these two Muggles were here talking to him, Voldemort didn’t succeed. He sighed, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that told him his friends could have died to win the war, and met Jones’s eyes.
“Can this Rift take me back home?” he asked. His heart sank when something passed over the man’s face.
“It’s not impossible,” the American said instead, “but it’s very, very unlikely.”
Sirius nodded and let his gaze wander over the island. He flinched when a raindrop landed on his cheek and looked up at the gathering thunderheads.
“Can I ask you something?” he said, not looking away from the clouds as the first few heavy drops landed on his face.
“That depends,” Harkness said after a moment. “What do you want to know?”
Sirius looked back over at him, studying both his face and the Welshman’s before sitting up straighter. “What’s going to happen to me?”
“You can tell us how you got out of the bunker, for starters,” Jones said softly, meeting his eyes. They were sincere, and when he looked away his gaze travelled down to where the younger man's hand was entwined with Harkness's.
Sirius let out a breath and decided to hell with the Statute of Secrecy. “Uncontrolled magic. If a witch or wizard feels threatened, he or she can use magic without a wand.”
“So, I’m guessing a wand simply channels the magic,” Harkness thought out loud. Sirius saw him take in a deep breath and hold it in for a moment before letting it out. “There are no ghost dogs in Wales.”
Jones coughed.
“That aren't associated with other ghosts,” Harkness added, “or that don’t look like something Sherlock Holmes should be chasing across the moors. Ianto?”
“Good enough, sir,” the Welshman called back. He grinned when he saw Sirius smile a little.
“Care to explain?”
Sirius glared between the two of them. “What if I don’t tell you?”
“Then we assume you’re a threat, take you back to our base, and then either lock you up or dissect you,” the American said, eyebrows raised, and Sirius shivered. He couldn't tell if he was joking. “Or you tell us the truth, we determine your threat level, and either take you back to base or back under to see how we can help each other. Your choice. I don’t really care. You see, we’ve had a pretty bad experience with shapeshifters recently and I’d prefer not to get the big gun out. But, still, it’s your choice.”
He could tell Jones was biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. Harkness threw the man a Look and Sirius sighed. The pair were an odd one, he decided. He didn’t understand half of what they were on about. Perhaps they were feeling the say way about him.
Jones cleared his throat and looked back at him, nodding towards him. He sighed and rubbed his upper arms as another shiver wracked his body. “Some witches and wizards can turn into animals.”
“That’s not an uncommon assumption,” Jones said and Sirius felt his shoulders slump in relief.
Finally they were getting somewhere. He gave the Welshman a wry smile. “You’d be surprised. There aren’t many that can, and those who can are called Animagi.”
Jones returned the smile. “I meant it’s not unheard of. In folklore, you can tell a familiar--”
“So,” Harkness interrupted, head cocked to the side, “I’m assuming you’re one of those that can shapeshift, then.”
Sirius nodded. “I am.”
“And Remus?”
Sirius stared at the American’s boots for a moment before answering. “No. I became an Animagus to help him. He’s...ill. James, Peter and I thought it would help him if we did. It worked.” He ignored his voice as it broke.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jones asked quietly.
Sirius looked up at him and out the corner of his eye saw Harkness give the Welshman a strange look.
“You wouldn’t believe me,” Sirius said simply and wondered if he imagined the phantom pain that flickered for a moment before it died behind the man’s blue eyes.
“You know, I’m getting tired of this ‘you won’t believe it’ shtick,” Harkness said curtly. “You’d be surprised by what would surprise us.”
Jones rolled his eyes.
Sirius rolled his own. “You won’t think I’m mad?”
“No madder than the rest of us,” Harkness said with a blinding grin. “Being mad is part of the Torchwood job description.”
“It’s really not my place to tell, but….” Sirius looked down at the ground, hands resting atop his knees. “He’s a werewolf.”
***
“‘The Darkness?’” James sing-songed as he leaned forward in his chair. “‘The Darkness is coming?’ What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Shut it, Prongs,” Remus said, shooting him a glare. “I think what James is trying to say, Albus, is what is the Darkness and what does it have to do with Sirius?”
Dumbledore didn’t look away from the window. “There’s something moving in it. Something’s coming.”
“As creepy as that is,” James said, “that means nothing to us right now.”
Remus started to worry his lip and turned to study Dumbledore. He looked his age-ancient eyes set in an ancient face-and his lips were pursed as he stared blindly into the night. He placed a hand on the cold pane, pressing against the glass; Remus shivered. He could feel the cold creeping in through the cracks around the window even though he sat next to the fire.
“It means something is wrong,” Dumbledore started softly. “Very wrong. If the stars are going out, it means the end of everything.”
“And we’re sure this isn’t Voldemort’s doing?” James frowned.
“Positive.” Dumbledore turned around and leaned against the window frame. “Voldemort doesn’t have enough power. This is bigger than the Dark Lord. In fact, I’d be surprised if he even knew about it.”
“So who or what is doing this?” Remus asked just as James opened his mouth. He quelled the small feeling of pride he got at that. “Are we fighting the wrong person?”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen so soon,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s out there, but that’s not important right now. Our main priority is getting Sirius back.”
“And how are we doing that, exactly?” James asked and ran a hand through his hair. “How do we even know where he is?”
“We don’t know anything, do we?” Remus added quietly. “If the Rift transports things through time and space, he could be on any planet and in any time, past or future.”
“What about a Time-Turner? We could go back in time and stop it from taking him, couldn’t we?”
James’s voice sounded resigned to Remus. Reaching over, he gave his shoulder a squeeze. James just stared vacantly back at him.
Dumbledore was studying a spot on the floor when they turned back to him. “I suppose...but we don’t know what the ramifications would be.”
“This would have never happened,” James said with a nod. “Simple as that.”
“Things are never quiet as simple as they may seem,” Dumbledore said as he pushed away from the window. He started to pace the small space between it and bed. “We don’t know what it would change.”
“But it’s only just happened,” Remus said. “We could prevent it from ever happening in the first place.”
“Or time could be in flux,” Dumbledore countered and stuck his hands into his pockets. “Or this could be a fact. If it is and doesn’t happen as it’s supposed to, it could corrupt the timeline and cause a paradox.”
“Which means?”
“That whatever’s in the Darkness wouldn’t matter,” Remus said, looking at Dumbledore. “Voldemort wouldn’t even matter anymore. The world would end.”
“Hold on,” James said, scooting to the edge of seat. “What is the Darkness, exactly? How do we know it’s going to destroy anything, let alone the universe?”
“That, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said, stopping his pacing to frown at them, “is the question. We don’t know what’s out there or at best we have theories as to what exactly the Darkness is. The only people who could tell us died a long time ago.”
“Then can’t we use a Time-Turner? Go back and ask for help?” James shouted. “We can’t just sit around discussing the cosmos and licking our wounds! My best mate is out there somewhere-somewhere he isn’t meant to be! We have to find him. Who’s going to be the baby’s godfather if he isn’t here? What are we all supposed to do without him? We need him!”
“James, please just ca-“ Remus started.
“No, Remus, don’t you tell me to calm down!” James pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare! For someone whose boyfriend has just disappeared off the face of the Earth, you’re taking this very well.”
“We don’t know that!” Remus yelled back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore pinching the bridge of his nose.
“He hasn’t Flooed, hasn’t Apparated, hasn’t let us know he’s fine! He would’ve done already if he’d still been here! Hell, we’d have heard from the Death Eaters by now if they had anything to do with it! Moody's even been checking Muggle police reports and hospitals! No contact, no Dark Mark, nothing!”
“What if he’s injured? Unconscious? Somewhere he can’t contact us or get back?”
“There still would have been a report-someone would have contacted someone!”
“Like his family? They’d rather watch him die.”
James growled, dropping forcefully back into his chair. “We’d know! You can’t pretend everything’s going to be fine! We all know what silence means by now!”
“If I think about it, I’ll go mad! Right now, I can’t let myself believe he’s not coming back because I can’t, James,” Remus shouted, slumping back in his chair and rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. He ignored the sting of tears and took a few deep breaths. “Sorry.”
“No, I should be. I was out of line,” James said, reaching over to lay a hand on Remus’s forearm.
They turned back to Dumbledore when he cleared his throat.
“Feeling better?” he asked, the usual twinkle in his eye replaced by a look of understanding.
“No,” James answered for the both of them. He gave Remus’s arm another pat before letting go. “How are we going to find him?”
Dumbledore smiled. “I have an idea. James, have you heard anything about the object the Department of Mysteries retrieved from Hogsmeade?”
James snorted. “Not much; just rumours here and there. They don’t call them Unspeakables because it sounds posh.”
“Rosmerta mentioned it when I came in,” Remus whispered. “She said everyone was afraid of it. That it seemed like the thing itself was in pain.”
Dumbledore nodded. “One can never be too cautious in times like these, but they shouldn’t be worrying. The box itself is harmless, and if what I think has happened for it to be in pain, then I fear the worst. Did she mention if they found anything inside?”
“Just that the Unspeakables said it was Voldemort’s doing and took it back with them.” Remus swallowed. “She...she also said the Darkness was coming.”
“Anything else?” Dumbledore asked and Remus tried not to shudder at the intensity of his stare. “Anything at all?”
“This woman walked in. Overhead Rosie mentioning the Darkness. She said she’d heard that before.”
“Oh, yes. Of all the pubs in all of Scotland, some bird has to walk into ours,” James muttered.
Remus didn’t know whether to smile or frown at his friend. “She seemed an odd sort.”
“Odd how, Remus?” Dumbledore asked. He walked to the end of the bed and sat down, hands clasped between his knees and brows furrowed. He was staring, waiting for an answer, at Remus as if he had just discovered a new use for dragon’s blood.
Part VII