effingsirius | peace is war by other means

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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.)

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Ah. That's going to require re-strategizing. Clearly this-- girl isn't going to go away as easily as hoped. There's an instant of a return to blankness on Sirius' face as Voldemort reconsiders. His control isn't so good as to be able to control every little tic, just yet.

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?

Definitely not Sirius, if this ruse she's put on is working. It's the calm before the storm, always. Even without that, his speech patterns aren't right. She keeps her affected expression in place, hand reaching out to very gently brush his arm. She makes sure he can see it, as she always does. "Your brother's looking for you too." Quieter. "He's worried. We're all worried." Once she's inside and the door clicks shut, there's a moment. A heartbeat. Where she genuinely worries after what may happen if she can't pull him out of this.

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."

There's another shift from Sirius at the mention of Regulus. It has Voldemort's attention flickering inward a moment again. Means that there's no nervousness within or without as she starts to move towards where the horcrux is. The snake shifts a little more beneath the couch, hiding comfortably in the shadows. She wouldn't think to look, surely. Doesn't know what to look for, likely. Otherwise he'd be properly dead by now. Fools.

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.)

There's a moment where Lily takes everything in. She lets her expression fade to something more distraught even though she's nothing but viciously angry at everything about this other than Sirius himself. It looks just hurt, though. Hurt and upset, like she's getting closer to what the slithering thing inside Sirius wants—leaving. However, it's like she's going for a last-ditch effort, a final plea.

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.

He notices the little flick of wordless magic and it's the first time he thinks this might be a problem. Doesn't let it show because at least she's there on the couch, close to the snake even if she's not close enough to be bitten, yet. He sits beside her because proximity to the creature makes Sirius so much easier to control.

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."

Something in Lily's expression changes. For a moment she looks utterly crestfallen; moving to clasp the hand at her knee with both of hers. She rubs her cheek against his hand, and the affection would be real if this were really Sirius. "I gave you the best parts of me," she murmurs, quiet in the face of that syrupy sweet voice that sounds so wrong. "So you're saying my marriage is ruined for nothing? Because you found someone else?"

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.

Well. If she's caught on so well, then there's no point in pretending anymore, is there? Besides, with the white hot rage that courses through him, it's the most alive he's felt since-- well-- since he died. It makes it easier, for a moment, to slam down the cage around Sirius, who is fighting all the more to regain control now that Lily's threatened him.

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.

Edited 2016-11-21 08:49 (UTC)

Lily doesn't fling any spells his way, it's true. Her own wand is out immediately and she's standing, eyes full of fire and rage. There's nothing left of the timid girl that had stepped into the flat, because she'd never really existed. She knows he's toying with her and honestly, she doesn't even need to concentrate to flick the spells out of the way. No, she's watching him as he speaks. Her expression changes, but it's to something impassive.

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.

The spell being aimed the snake's way has the snake slithering to avoid it. Has Voldemort snarling and aiming a spell of his own towards Lily-- and he can't kill her, apparently can't even Crucio her while Sirius is still even a glimmer of a presence. No matter. He'll tire the girl out soon enough; perhaps immobilize her so the snake can bite her.

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.

The first spell he flings at her is batted away with a swish of her wand; she knows she's relying on Sirius' waning presence for a lot. Last time it had been her and James both. Now it's just her and what Sirius has left. She doesn't have time to cast a Patronus while she's being reactionary.

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.

The noise is certainly something that will call attention to the others outside, if that's her intent. It may take them a bit of time to get through the door with all of the spells that slid into place when Voldemort shut it, but they'll make it in eventually.

'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."

The spell does graze her arm and she hisses, thrown off-balance for a split-second before recovering. The pain blooms immediately but it's not her wand arm. She'll be fine. She doesn't crow in victory when Sirius' body crumples to the ground - almost sobs instead, barely keeps it together. But it's a move she needs. She'll apologize later. Spend her life making it up to him that she sent a spell his way.

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.

Both the snake and the man hisses when she stomps on him, the snake twisting to bite at her but only snagging fangs on her thick boots without puncturing. There's a scream from the apparition as the spell hits, unholy and more devil than human. There's a sticky blackness to the blood that flows out of the snake. It looks more like tar than actual blood.

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--"

When the snake tries to bite her there's a moment of cold fear but there's no blossom of pain so it lets her breathe. And then... And then. It's over. It's really, truly over, she thinks. She's stunned, unable to move, just breathing harshly and trying to keep herself from panicking.

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."

He's startled at the hug; a surprised rush of air escaping his lips. It takes him a couple moments to remember he can hug back now; his arms are careful as he hugs her back. He's afraid that Voldemort isn't really gone; that he might come back and Sirius could break her, she's so close.

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.

Edited 2016-11-21 18:59 (UTC)

She nuzzles against the side of his face, quiet and grounding. She loves him, deeply and truly, and he's here. He's not gone. There's nothing left in him that's not him.

"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."

Every touch feels foreign but reassuring. The fact that he can feel them at all is a confusing blessing. The fact that every touch is so gentle when for months all he's known is roughness is bewildering enough to keep him from pulling away entirely. He leans his forehead in against hers as though he doesn't quite remember how.

"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."

She doesn't push any more affections on him after that. Just holds him and rubs his back. That's all. "There's no blame to place on you," she murmurs, but doesn't press that either. They can work on it.

"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."

It's a lot to take in at once. It's got him trembling in her arms, slumping just slightly from relief and exhaustion. It's not something that he can accept immediately, his head shaking in response to her words.

"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."

"Stop." Quiet. "I'm not going to let you keep blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault." She holds him, not letting go for anything.

"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."

"It is my fault."

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?"

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