Sirius Black [Maraduders Era] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
effingsirius) wrote2016-11-21 12:07 am
effingsirius) wrote2016-11-21 12:07 am
Entry tags:
peace is war by other means
It's soon enough after the war that an increase in incidents involving Muggles anywhere in the UK gets the Aurors and the Order poking their head in. A confirmed death, disappearances, and a number of addled Muggles was definitely something that called their attention. Preliminary investigations turned up at least one Death Eater's son in the vicinity; he was put on the shortlist instantly. Most of the people assumed he was the man they'd be nabbing, at the end.
But interrogations of the Muggles who seem to have been put at risk yield an interesting new factor. Yield a description of one Sirius Black, previously missing and apparently turned dark in his absence. Yield, from a few of the Muggles, blurry memories of a snake.
The Aurors are ready to arrest him on the spot. The Order members know better. Relay the information back to the Potters, who are understandably upset, and to Dumbledore, who poses the possibility of Horcruxes to them.
In the end, they ask Lily to go out. She's familiar and loved enough she probably won't seem a threat to Sirius if he has taken a dark turn. Is skilled enough that there is a Horcrux, she'll likely be able to handle it.
They still have some people accompany her, but when the time comes it's her they're allowing to knock on the door of the apartment they've determined belongs to one Sirius Black.
When he opens the door, for a heartbeat of a moment he's nothing but a shell. When his glazed eyes take in who's standing there, though, the foreign soul in him hisses. Twists a little at the controls it has on him to bring back a bit of the light in his eyes but none of the actual feeling behind it.
"--Lily." He's still so pale. His voice and eyes are still so dull. The smile doesn't reach his eyes, "What are you doing here?"
(The snake, elsewhere in the apartment, slithers to try to find a hiding place.)
But interrogations of the Muggles who seem to have been put at risk yield an interesting new factor. Yield a description of one Sirius Black, previously missing and apparently turned dark in his absence. Yield, from a few of the Muggles, blurry memories of a snake.
The Aurors are ready to arrest him on the spot. The Order members know better. Relay the information back to the Potters, who are understandably upset, and to Dumbledore, who poses the possibility of Horcruxes to them.
In the end, they ask Lily to go out. She's familiar and loved enough she probably won't seem a threat to Sirius if he has taken a dark turn. Is skilled enough that there is a Horcrux, she'll likely be able to handle it.
They still have some people accompany her, but when the time comes it's her they're allowing to knock on the door of the apartment they've determined belongs to one Sirius Black.
When he opens the door, for a heartbeat of a moment he's nothing but a shell. When his glazed eyes take in who's standing there, though, the foreign soul in him hisses. Twists a little at the controls it has on him to bring back a bit of the light in his eyes but none of the actual feeling behind it.
"--Lily." He's still so pale. His voice and eyes are still so dull. The smile doesn't reach his eyes, "What are you doing here?"
(The snake, elsewhere in the apartment, slithers to try to find a hiding place.)
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This is not the Sirius Black she knows. "You don't look well enough to go out, anyway. You should stay home, darling. Let me in, we'll have a chat." Her voice has taken on something soothing, gentled, non-threatening. Sirius would know it's dangerous. Whoever's (as if it isn't clear already) taking control of him won't. "If nothing else I'm going to need you to explain to me why so that I have something to tell Harry. He asks for you every day. So, Sirius. Tell me what's drawn you away from him? From us?"
It's very clear she's not going to leave, in any case.
"Of course, if you convince me it's what you really want, I'll let you be. I just want you to be happy."
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But she seems easy enough to force away, once she's been hurt enough. She's got that softness to her now, like a fragile thing easy to break-- And this is one of the ones Merdraut had said brought him down? How impossibly silly. What an odd stroke of luck they must have had.
Besides, if nothing else works, he'll be able to get Sirius to kill her. That'll be a fitting revenge for her and might be just what he needs to break the man he's trying to possess entirely.
(Deep inside himself, Sirius stirs at the threat.)
"Very well. If you insist." Stepping back to let her in comes easily enough. Shutting the door after her comes with a particular firmness. "I'm telling you, though, it's really quite simple. I decided to move on with my life, now that we're all-- free to live as we are, and I've found someone here. He's-- very good."
At fulfilling the duty he's been assigned to fulfill, at least. At keeping Sirius Black addled and distracted enough through as many means as possible that the man had been left almost an open vessel for him to fill. Oh, yes, Merdraut would be rewarded soundly when he arose anew.
But for now, Merdraut just needed to be the boyfriend that had been the reason Sirius Black had left. That's a-- reason, yes? Something to do with that idea of love this side seems so fond of?
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As she steps further inside though, she casually makes her way in the direction Sirius had glanced before. It looks like she's just moving further into the flat for ease, though. Like she doesn't know what's in that direction. She's very good at this, but she doesn't turn her back to him. Not quite. "What I don't understand is you know we'd support you finding someone. You don't need to go anywhere for that. Family cares for family, after all."
Clearly it's not reason enough. Or not the right kind. She has her wand up her sleeve, something she never thought she'd have to do any more. She wonders how close to the horcrux she really is.
"Really, as though we'd abandon you just because you found someone good."
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There are hints of the kind of life Sirius has been leading here along the way-- Alcohol bottles in various states of emptiness. A table that looked as though the contents formerly atop it had been hurriedly pushed off or simply knocked aside. Burnt out blunts left anywhere a pair of high wizards may think to leave them. The thing that looks like Sirius doesn't give off any indication of shame-- hasn't even bothered to hide the fading hickies visible on his neck and lower.
"I should have owled," he states as he follows Lily as sedately as possible. He figures that's an appropriate enough response. "But I wanted a clean break. It was-- too much, after the war."
That might almost sound honest. It's almost the truth, after all, cobbled together by what Merdraut could glean and pass along from intoxicated confession and the news and what memories Voldemort has managed to coerce or rip out of Sirius' psyche.
It's not enough to know that while saying "So, you see, it's why I-- wish you hadn't come" is true, it absolutely isn't what Sirius Black would have started with.
(He'd managed that much, at least. He'd had to surrender the broader picture-- the emotional responses, the words and the attitude. Had managed, at least, to keep that which would have fooled those who knew him best clutched close to himself. It would be something, he'd hoped.)
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As she approaches the couch there's a lazy flick of her hand to clear a spot on it, instinctive magic moving things aside. It's wandless and wordless and advanced. It's easy and usual, but it's a warning if you're looking for it properly. Still, she settles on the cushion with her feet drawn up beneath her. It looks casual but she doesn't know where the bloody snake is. Just in case.
Sirius' words aren't right. "You certainly should have owled," she murmurs like it's petulant. "Everything is too much, after the war. After... After James and I, you know, things have been so difficult, Sirius." And here's a lie that Sirius, the real Sirius, would absolutely know isn't true just from the set of her shoulders. "We've been fighting constantly. The only thing keeping us together these days is Harry. But we're sticking through it because that's what people do. We're sticking through it and pushing on to better things."
A breath, and this next is absolutely the truth. "I love you, Sirius. You told me you love me too. How could I not come to find you?" She wonders how it will be taken: assumed familial or something untoward.
Her hand is on the arm of the couch, fingers drumming slightly.
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Because Sirius is fighting, now; kicking just slightly against where his mind is caged at the consistent threats to Lily's life. It's growing very frustrating. He manages (only just) to keep the expression out of his face.
Lets, instead, something that captures the smugness just slightly slip out instead. Of course that was something Black would've tried to keep from him. Probably thought it would keep her safe.
"I'm sorry if I made you think that I wanted to be found," he says, and there's something syrupy sweet about his tone that Sirius never, never uses. One hand is reaching out to her to rest on her knee, and oh, Sirius is seething. It's going to be such a pleasure to break the both of them, "But I got what I wanted from you, Lily. I've found something better, now. It's a shame that things are such a problem at home with James, but--" A shrug, "--I can't help you with that, I'm afraid. We've all got to go our own ways, now."
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She's moving though, slinking toward and over him like she's going to try and prove her point. "I have what he doesn't," she says, but as her lips approach his ear her mouth morphs into a sickle-sharp grin. "Like a knowledge of Sirius Black from childhood, you stupid son of a bitch. Did you really think you could fool me? That a caricature that can't even keep facts straight would work? Some bloody Dark Lord you are, can't even fool a single witch all on her own."
And that's the crux of it, isn't it. Alone. She isn't, but he doesn't know that. She's trying to anger him enough to bring out the snake. Perhaps it will work.
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Sirius' wand is drawn from within the folds of his own sleeve, instantly aimed at her the moment it's out. He'll deftly flick away the spells she does cast his way as he rants, though he'd be surprised if she sent any. Her type is so sentimental about love, and he doubts she'd want to hurt him. It's why he doesn't bother sending more than a cursory spell or two her way, more to keep her from attacking him than to actual harm.
"You should have left when you had the chance, you stupid girl," he tells her, eyes all dark rage and voice cold and it doesn't look like there's anything of Sirius left in him at all, "Do you really think a pitiful thing like you can defeat me, even when I'm inhabiting this sorry excuse of a body? Why bother coming after him at all? He doesn't want you, anymore. He did so much to forget you. Drank so much I'm surprised he'd wake up the next morning alive. Gave himself to be used by one of my servants just to get a high, over and over again. All that, so he didn't have to think of you."
Every word is aimed to be cruel, to make that pretty little face crumple in grief before he kills her. To make Sirius weaken in his mind more completely than he ever had.
"The things I've seen him do-- I'm amazed this filth dares count himself a pureblood. But then, I suppose that's what happens, when one consorts with Mudbloods such as yourself." His wand lifts with a certain resoluteness, "I'm going to enjoy hearing him scream as I kill you."
And the words are on his lips, about to escape, and Sirius does scream, but it isn't in resignation. It's in fury. What's left of him slams its way back into control; has his body physically doubling over as though in pain. There's just a few heartbeats where it's Sirius' eyes glancing desperately her way from where he's bent over.
"Lily, go--"
And then he's gone again, Voldemort straightening with an eerie stiffness to his spine. The inhale of his breath is sharp.
"It seems he'd rather you suffer, then," he snarls, "Very well."
And then there's a hiss of words that escape his lips, and the snake slithers out from beneath the couch with a hiss.
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She lets him rant and rave and she smiles in the face of it. "You really don't know him at all, do you?" Lily does. Lily knows that Sirius' moods take him over in ways he can't control. That he blamed himself after Peter's betrayal. Of course he'd wanted to forget. That doesn't mean they have to let him. Doesn't mean they can keep living without reminding him that he's loved.
"As for a pitiful thing like me..." The grin is back, her spine straight. "Who do you think killed you the first time? Doing it again is nothing."
When he's going to do that, to cast that is the first time a flicker of something else hits her face but she still stands resolute. Trusting. She knows.
And she's right.
The look in Sirius' eyes catches her breath and she wants to sob and she can't tell if it's in sorrow or relief. He's there. He can come back. "I'm not going to leave you!" There's a deep refusal. When Voldemort hisses she grins again, vicious as she steps back far enough out of range so as not to get bitten straight off. "Good thing I put my feet up then, isn't it? My, you are blind aren't you."
She cants her head but it's different from before, calculating. "Thank you," she says, "for giving me precisely what I wanted." And then she's flicking a stunning spell toward the snake - she doubts it will hit, but she wants to see how it moves, catalog its habits while its still far enough away.
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And if that doesn't work, he can always speed along the process of his complete takeover of Sirius Black. Once he's a proper body, after all, she's so much easier to kill.
Now to just make sure she doesn't kill the snake, instead. His laugh is cold in reply to her statement.
"You think it's going to be that simple, do you?"
There's another hex aimed her way as the snake moves again.
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She can, however, make some noise. A shielding spell takes care of the second hex and when she casts another spell at the snake it looks like it goes wide but it's on purpose, hitting a bookshelf and toppling the whole thing over with a loud crash. Her voice rises too, as she speaks.
"It's always simple with you. Do you want to know what you looked like when you died?" This time when she flicks a spell toward the snake it's spot on if it can't get out of the way. "You looked small and frightened. And do you know why you died? Because you were scared of me. Scared of me and my son."
She's still keeping a distance between herself and the snake, just in case. She flings a simple stunning spell toward Voldemort as she moves - nothing that will hurt Sirius if it hits, but something to distract in the meantime.
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'Eventually,' may not be soon enough, though, depending.
"Luck," Voldemort says with another spell aimed her way. This one might have caused more harm than the others he's been casting-- Sirius is losing the battle in his own mind-- but his aim is thrown off when the spell to the snake makes both it and Sirius' body twitch. It'll graze her or miss her entirely, instead, "Luck, and I was told your precious husband had plenty to do with it, too. Perhaps I'll pay him another visit when I'm done here. And maybe one to your son, as well."
The thought alone has Sirius shoving back again, one last desperate push as his soul starts to slip entirely away. It's enough. It's enough to keep him still as the stunning spell flies his way; enough to get him crumpling in unconsciousness. Which is, apparently, a bad twist for Voldemort, if the even more furious hiss from the snake is anything to go by.
And then there is a-- mist, for lack of a better word-- that begins to rise from both the snake and Sirius' body, coming together between them. A mist which forms into Voldemort's-- though he looks more like Tom Riddle, still, now-- form. The snake slithers its way over towards Sirius' body as Voldemort manifests, and he doesn't look quite real, yet; still a little fuzzy around the edges. Still, it's clear he's coming back, and Sirius' soul is the price, if the sudden increased pallor that further settles into his skin is any indication.
"You keep making mistakes tonight," Voldemort says, but there's something very slight in his tone that indicates nerves, "You only prolong the inevitable, girl. Just give in, and perhaps I'll be merciful."
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For now, she has to concentrate. "Do I keep making mistakes?" It's murmured, sweet and dangerous. "I don't think you understand what a mistake you've made in threatening my family, in already hurting someone I love. But you wouldn't understand that, would you? Of course not." There's rage blooming beneath the sorrow and she stokes it violently because it's what's keeping her afloat. Despite appearances, she's terrified.
"You offered me mercy before, too. Mercy if I let you kill my son. I don't want mercy from a snake like you." She strides forward and stomps down just behind the snake's head before it can reach Sirius entirely. It can't reach her to bite from here and even though she can't hold it long, she has a split-second to act. She has to have something.
But she remembers hurried conversation, a pair of wild black eyes staring into her own, a hissed warning. A murmur of the words for a spell in her ear, a quick demonstration of movement without them, a whisper of for your enemies. A press of foreheads, a squeeze of a hand desperately trying to convey thanks. He'd refused to say her name like he wasn't worthy of it. She thinks he probably meant Peter, when he'd told her. Or maybe Voldemort himself - she hadn't used it then, hadn't thought of it. Now is as good a time as any for a second chance.
"All I want from you is for you to die, Tom Riddle." The swipe of her wand is aimed at just behind the snake's head. "Sectumsempra."
Unless the snake can escape, it will slice cleanly. If it can wriggle slightly out of the way, it will still slice deeply but not all the way through—either way there's no coming back from it. It's a matter of seconds between either outcome, immediate or bleeding out.
"So die again," she murmurs.
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And then Voldemort's gone (again; for good) and there's nothing but a dead snake. (Somewhere in Albania, an animal that was hosting the main part of his soul gasps out a final breath.) For a long moment there's an almost eerie silence after.
But then there's the softest moan as Sirius Black, some color back in his cheeks despite still looking haggard, regains consciousness as himself for the first time in what feels like forever. He blinks in confusion for a couple moments, trying to get used to having a full sense of himself, before memory and panic sweeps in.
"--Lily! Lily, are you hurt?" He's still a little too weak to get all the way up to standing, but he manages to get up to something more like sitting again, "Did you-- Is he gone? Merlin, Lily, I could have killed you--"
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The noise from Sirius snaps her back into being, away from disassociating and she rushes to his side and drops to her knees with a low sob, flinging her arms around his neck. It's him, really and truly, and she peppers kisses to his hair before she can even regain herself to speak at all.
"Sirius," she whispers, barely audible, "Sirius, we were so worried. I'm so sorry, I had to stun you while he was in control, I would never—" it chokes there before she can continue. "I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you forever, it wasn't your fault, none of it was your fault, I love you, we love you, it wasn't you." She takes a shuddering breath, trying to rein in her babbling. "It wasn't you. It would have been him, if anyone. Do you understand? None of this is your fault."
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He's so caught up in the simple fact that he can feel her again, really and properly, that it takes him a couple of seconds to register she's speaking.
"--No-- Oh, Lils, it's fine, I know you were just-- doing what you had to do. Honestly, you should have just attacked once you were sure, he got so close--"
His own breath is a shaky shudder as her assurances sink in, and he shakes his head, "Don't-- you don't know what I did."
To be fair, he barely knows, but he has an idea.
"Merlin, I-- I'm sorry if you really came all the way out here for me. If it hadn't been for killing him I doubt it would have been-- worth it." Another trembling breath. He doesn't remember how to cry, but it's almost like a sob, "It's-- it's over, you know, you finished it. I-- I saw. The snake was the-- last one."
It's over.
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"Do you hear yourself?" It's soft and she moves to press their foreheads together, fingers brushing through his hair. "If it's not my fault because he was in control, it's not your fault either. You can't have it both ways. Either it's neither of our faults or it's both of ours. That's a decision you need to make."
Firm. She means it. Still she moves, pressing a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, a very cautious peck to his lips. It's affectionate but just something that friends do. She's done it before. "You're always worth it. Always. I need you to understand me. Even if there wasn't a horcrux I would have come for you. We love you, we need you. Please believe me, Sirius. You're our heart, our lungs. Everything we are is tied to you too."
What he says last stills her. Over. Really over. She lets out a shuddering breath that sounds half-sob, half-laugh. "Merlin, it's over. He's gone. He's gone forever."
It's freeing. "We're safe, Sirius. All of us."
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"It's not-- your fault," is all he can manage to assert. It will take time, before he can even begin to consider the rest, "Let's-- figure out my blame for when we've pieced it all together, nn?"
The kiss to his lips has him blinking in surprise again, more obviously now. He doesn't draw back, but he does still a little.
"You shouldn't," he answers her, voice soft, "You-- he wasn't lying, about what I did. I-- I really--" A breath, "All that alcohol, and the drugs-- not just pot, and-- Merlin, acting like a whore for-- one of his people. I-- 'm trash, Lily. You shouldn't want me coming home and-- infecting everything."
His breath trembles again. He vaguely wishes he could cry. At least he's able to respond when other people do.
"It's safe now," he agrees softly, "It's over. He's really gone."
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"Sirius." It's firm again. "You were hurting. In a vacuum, sleeping with people isn't wrong or make you a whore. Doing harder drugs is worrisome but not something to condemn you for. On top of that, you were being manipulated. You were near a horcrux. Do you realize what that does to you? Regulus was—he was by one for less than a week and you saw what it did to him. You were by one much longer. It's not your fault. You can't convince me that you're trash and you can't convince me that you shouldn't come home. You're not going to infect or ruin anything."
It's a lot to say at once. She lets it sink in.
"We've all been manipulated, Sirius. It doesn't make us bad people."
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"Not everyone gets themselves manipulated to where they-- hurt or kill people. Not everyone gets themselves into positions where they get manipulated in the first place, and-- it wasn't like I wasn't doing those things just after the horcux. I-- set my own damn self up for this."
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"I need you to remember that we're not blaming you. We're not, so you shouldn't either. We love you, and the things that happened are not your fault." She'll keep repeating it as many times as necessary. "Because you were hurting, it let him weasel his way in. It's not something to be ashamed of. We should have helped you more."
A breath. "We should let the others know we're all right."
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And it will take him a long time to believe otherwise, even if eventually he'll stop arguing with her aloud about it.
"What more could you have done? I left you and stayed out of touch. How did you even find me?"
Though he does start to get an idea, when he talks about the others. The nod of his head is jerky; a touch resigned.
"All right. Who's-- here?"