The Everlasting Day

17

I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. - Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Sirius and Malfoy stepped cautiously around each other, their breathing slow and measured, each one looking for an opening that would give them the upper hand. Malfoy misread Sirius' millisecond glance at Narcissa as a flicker of doubt and dived for him. Sirius spun easily and quickly out of his path, letting out a loud, bark-like laugh.

'Is that the best you can do, Lucius?'

Crabbe and Goyle snickered to themselves on the sidelines, but Eloise Jessop - the young witch Sirius had noticed during their first meeting - bit her lip as she watched Malfoy stumble into the wall.

'Does Narcissa know you're sleeping with Eloise?' Sirius added casually, as an afterthought. He had no idea whether or not it was true, but it would certainly muddy the waters and buy him some time. Or rile Malfoy up even further, which perhaps wasn't the best thing for him to do, but he was enjoying himself far too much to care.

Narcissa spun around to face the pretty, but cold-featured witch with a look of searing anger on her bird-like face.

Sirius laughed again as Malfoy spun around, looking as though he would like nothing better than to rip Sirius' head from his shoulders. 'Obviously not. You should tell your women to be more careful about expressing their concern for you, Lucius.'

Malfoy didn't bother to reply, but lunged at Sirius again, his fist whipping though the air inches from Sirius' face as he sidestepped easily out of the way. The Death Eaters dared to snicker again, making Malfoy's already puce colour deepen to something near purple.

'You sure you're okay there, Lucius? Not going to have an embolism on me now, are you? I should hate to win by default.'

'You bastard,' Malfoy hissed, shaking his hair back from his face and straightening up. 'I'm going to rip your tongue out as a gift for Ariadne, Black...I'm sure she'd like to see it just before she dies too. And by Merlin, is she going to die slowly...screaming and cursing your name with her last breath.'

Sirius' smile faded instantly and although he tried hard not to let the images Malfoy was trying to provoke form themselves coherently in his mind, he failed miserably. An uncomfortable gnawing began in his stomach that belied his words.

'You'll have to kill me first and you're a long way from doing that, Lucius. Come on, stop trying to hit me and hit me...or are you planning on boring me to death?'

Malfoy's lip curled in a sneer as he turned and began to walk away. Sirius allowed a small bloom of victory to burst in his chest, believing that he was giving up and made the mistake of turning his back for the briefest of moments to glance at Erytheia to see if she was still okay. It was all the opening Malfoy needed. Silently he spun around and launched an upper cut to the small of his back, just beneath Sirius' ribs.

Sirius cried out as blistering agonies raced around his side and up his spine and he had to stagger to stay on his feet. He barely had time to turn around before Malfoy had grabbed his shoulder, pulled him forward and rammed a fist into his stomach. As he doubled over, dizzy with pain, nausea and surprise by the swiftness of the attack, Malfoy grabbed the back of his robes and shoved him forward headfirst into the wall.

Sirius felt as though his head had just been smashed with an iron claw that continued to grip mercilessly at his skull, the sensation trickling like liquid metal down the sides of his face and through his jaw. Everything went black and the sky was painted with stars as he felt new pain in his knees and realised that he had fallen to the floor. He couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't even hear through the high pitched whining that seemed to be echoing through his mind as nausea swam through his aching abdomen in painful, ceaseless waves. Somewhere, in the distance, as though from the other end of a tunnel, he could hear laughter and muted voices and somewhere in that strange and dark world, an image of a girl's face screaming in green light formed the anchor for his consciousness.

'I think it's time I put this dog out of his misery,' drawled Lucius.

As Sirius opened his eyes, the light assaulting them like hot needles, he saw through a hazy fog, Lucius reaching to retrieve his wand from Narcissa.

A mixture of anger, shame, shock and indignation coalesced in the back of his throat and with a great, guttural roar of fury he launched himself at Malfoy with every ounce of strength he could muster. Malfoy had no idea what had hit him as the two men collapsed to the floor and rolled in a messy, undignified heap across the stones.

Stunned, Malfoy took a moment to gather himself which was long enough for Sirius' fragile consciousness to recognise an opportunity and he brought his head down hard into Lucius' face, shattering his nose. Sirius didn't wait to see how badly he had hurt Malfoy and rolled off him, sorry now that he had been stupid enough to use his already injured head as a weapon. Strengthening waves of nausea were coursing through his abdomen and it no longer felt as though something was squeezing his skull from the outside; it felt more like there was something inside trying desperately to get out.

'You ba'tard!' Malfoy gurgled, spitting blood onto the floor as he rolled over onto his hands and knees and pulled himself up on the fireplace.

Sirius was on his hands and knees too, his eyes closed, pulling in slow, laboured, careful breaths over the jagged pain in his lower back, but he still heard Malfoy approaching him.

'I'm going to cut your head off too, Black...think I'll send that to Harry,' Malfoy hissed, drawing the back of his hand across his bloodied nose.

Sirius saw Malfoy's foot raise to kick him out of the corner of his eye and waited until Lucius was just about to make contact before he flipped over onto his back, grabbed Malfoy's leg and pulled, throwing him off balance so he toppled backwards to the floor.

His arms pinwheeling madly trying to save himself, Malfoy came down hard, a nasty cracking sound reverberating through the tense silence as his head hit the floor.

Beginning to recover now, marginally at least, Sirius managed to get shakily to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall for support.

'I think that evens the field a little, Malfoy,' he said, blinking, trying to clear his vision.

Malfoy began to coalesce out of the fog, drawing himself back up to his full height although his eyes seemed narrowed too, struggling to focus. He staggered towards Sirius, one arm hanging uselessly at his side.

'We'll see, Black,' he whispered malevolently. 'Round one was something of a draw, I feel...let's see how you fare in round two.' He grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth, and Sirius felt a small rush of satisfaction to see that one of the front ones had cracked. He hoped it hurt.

Malfoy decided to make the pre-emptive strike again, believing that Sirius wouldn't expect him to do so again. Whilst Sirius was prepared though, he had underestimated his recovery time. As he attempted to side-step again, a bolt of dizziness shot through his head, his vision blurred and he wasn't as quick on his feet as before; neither had he noticed that Malfoy had picked up Erytheia's knife until he felt the blade sinking into his thigh.

Only when he looked down and saw it sticking out of his leg and the blood beginning to ooze from beneath it did the pain come. He gasped with the force of it and the new nausea that suddenly crushed his stomach, instinctively bringing his arm around to smash his fist into the side of Malfoy's head, feeling bone break. Malfoy hadn't bothered to steady himself before stabbing the knife towards Sirius, so the blow caught him hard on his jaw and sent him reeling sideways, knocking him off his feet and sending him sprawling, semi-conscious across the floor.

* * *

With Malfoy momentarily dazed and Sirius trying to ease the blade out of his thigh, Erytheia carefully pulled his cloak towards her and, keeping her eyes on the Death Eaters, she felt around in his pockets for the phial. Her fingertips brushed against the cool glass and, gasping with relief, she grabbed it, pulling it free. She leaned back against the wall and held the phial in her lap, her legs still bent to hide what she was about to do from the Death Eaters, whose attention was still fixed on the death-match between Malfoy and Sirius.

Carefully, she teased the cork from the neck and pulled out the small dropper pipette inside. Although she must have had her doubts about Sirius' trustworthiness, she must also have realised that if her father really was dead, nothing she could do could hurt him now. On the other hand, Sirius seemed to be the only one in the room who hadn't enjoyed seeing the incredible pain that the stupid blonde arsehole had been inflicting on her, so of all the people she could have placed her trust within, he must have seemed as good a candidate as any. Besides, if he had wanted to hurt her, he'd had enough opportunities to do so by now.

Erytheia squeezed the bulb of the pipette, filling the tube. Making sure her face was a mask of grief and pain, she crawled across to where Snape still lay motionless on the floor. Sincerely and tenderly, she swept his hair away from his mouth and bent to kiss his pale, cold cheek. Using her own face to hide the pipette from the Death Eaters, she positioned the end of the tube against Snape's lips and squeezed the bulb, pushing the purplish liquid into his mouth. She carefully secreted the pipette in a space between two of the stone slabs paving the floor and then just laid her head down against his chest, her arm wrapped around her father's waist, genuinely needing to be close to him, wishing that he could be able to hold her too...hoping that Sirius had been right...wondering how she would cope without him...even if she could...

Wait...that was...but it couldn't...his heart was beating?

* * *

Sirius managed to ease the blade from his leg with a short, sharp cry of pain and threw it aside, pressing his palm hard against the wound. Blood oozed between his fingers and trickled warmly down his leg as he thanked every lucky star he had ever wished on that Malfoy must have just missed his artery.

'Now Lucius, that was uncalled for,' he breathed, his teeth clenched against the pain that was making his leg feel about a hundred times heavier and weaker at the same time. He undid the belt from his waist and looped it around his thigh just above the wound, pulling it tight to try to stem the bleeding. He cried out again as he fastened it, sweating profusely with the sudden, sharp escalation in pain. 'Right...come on then...let's start again, shall we?'

Malfoy was grinning manically now as Sirius' blood dripped from his hands as he balled them into fists and swung low towards Sirius' injured leg, but he missed again as Sirius twisted away from him. As Malfoy stumbled past, Sirius brought his elbow down hard into his side, enticing a shriek of pain from him.

'Missed again, Malfoy. You are getting old, my friend, aren't you? But clearly you're not prepared to play by the rules anymore, so ...'

Sirius bent over onto all fours as he transformed instantly into Padfoot. With newly sharpened senses; spitting, growling and snarling like a rabid wolf, he pounced on Malfoy, knocking him back to the floor.

Desperately, Malfoy tried to claw at Padfoot's eyes, but the huge, bear-like dog planted its paws on his chest and bared its yellow fangs, spittle dripping onto Malfoy's now very grubby, bloodstained shirtfront. When it barked, the sound echoed around the room like the cry of Cerberus in the underworld, warning the Death Eaters back lest Malfoy find himself with his throat ripped out.

'Get back!' Malfoy bellowed at Romulus Crabbe who had his wand out and was advancing towards them.

Crabbe slunk back nervously into the group as Malfoy turned his attention back to the huge dog that had him pinned to the ground. 'All right then, Sirius,' he gasped, swallowing thickly, 'all right. Point made. Transform back and we'll start again.'

Growling, keeping his teeth bared, Padfoot retreated cautiously away from Malfoy, limping a little with his injured back leg, although the belt - now shrunk to half its usual size - was still wrapped tightly around it. Malfoy sat up, staring fixedly into the dog's pale eyes, watching it carefully as he staggered onto his feet.

'So...' he panted, 'an animagus as well then, eh, Black? At least we know how you managed to escape the Dementors now. Unregistered...tut, tut...the Ministry don't know, do they? So I suppose I was right earlier...when I kill you, I really will be putting a dog down.'

Padfoot let out a volley of menacing snarls and barks, advancing towards him. Malfoy instinctively stepped backwards.

'All right...all right...change back, Sirius.'

Padfoot was just about to oblige when from the corner of his eye, he saw Narcissa's hand flash towards her wand and, just in time and at much cost and pain to his leg, he jumped back to avoid the Avada Kedavra curse that she sent towards him.

Furious, Malfoy screamed at her, 'No! You stupid woman!' but it was too late.

Padfoot reeled around and bounded towards Narcissa, fangs bared as he leapt at her and sank his teeth into her arm. She screamed as she fell back, the other Death Eaters scattering around them as Padfoot kept his teeth wrapped firmly around her arm while blood seeped between his fangs and matted down over the black fur of his chest.

'Sirius! Stop! That's enough! Let her go!' Malfoy yelled, 'let her go, or by Merlin, I'll have you killed you right now!'

Padfoot opened his mouth and let her go, but he stayed on top of her, not moving an inch as he sent another volley of rabid barks towards Malfoy. The dog seemed all the more terrifying now with bright red blood dripping from its fangs. Narcissa's face had bleached and her eyes were screwed tightly closed as she held her wounded arm close to her chest and moaned incoherently.

'I'll let him tear your bloody throat out if you try that again, Narcissa! Do you hear me?' Malfoy screamed at her, understanding the unspoken message of warning Sirius had been sending to him.

She nodded vaguely as Orphelia Crabbe, eyeing Padfoot warily, bent down to take care of her.

'All right, Sirius, get off her now. That won't happen again. Change back.'

'I hardly think that the playing ground is level now that you have made sure you have incapacitated your enemy, Lucius.'

Malfoy whirled around, shocked at the sound of such a familiar voice. Particularly one he had been half expecting never to hear again.

Snape was on his feet, wand out and pointed at Malfoy. His other arm was behind his back, holding Erytheia protectively behind him as he moved slowly towards the door. 'Go outside, Eryl,' he told her, shielding her from the Death Eaters curses.

'No...Dad...' she pleaded in a thin voice.

'Do not argue with me, child,' he said impatiently. 'Go. Now.'

She seemed reluctant to leave him alone, but she did as she was asked, turning on her heels and running through the porch outside. Snape smiled with satisfaction as he heard the door slam behind her.

'Severus...not dead after all, I see. Well, well...so Black is a liar as well as an unregistered animagus,' Malfoy drawled. 'A potion of some sort then...the Living Death probably, was it? How unoriginal...'

'Your powers of observation remain, as always, breathtaking, Lucius,' Snape muttered dryly. 'Originality notwithstanding, it was clearly sufficient to fool you. But then, that has never been a particularly difficult thing to accomplish.'

Padfoot had moved back from Narcissa and was limping now across to Snape, yelping in pain, holding his back leg clear of the floor as blood dripped onto the stone. Once he was clear of the circle of Death Eaters, he transformed. Sirius could just about manage to stand, but he was very pale, his grey eyes sunk deep within his thin face and he was beginning to shiver. Snape extended his free arm towards him for support, which was gratefully accepted. He pulled himself up straight, leaning heavily onto Snape's shoulder, but his other arm was held out straight in front of him, wand pointed at the handful of Death Eaters that hadn't gone to Narcissa's side.

'Sirius?'

'I'm all right,' he replied through gritted teeth, though he was sweating profusely, his skin had the colour of aged parchment and the circles beneath his eyes were darker than the bloodstains trailing around him. Although the blade had only been small, Malfoy had managed to hit the thickest, strongest muscle in Sirius' thigh and every single movement had opened the wound that little bit more and sent waves of new agonies coursing the length of his spine and ripping through his stomach. 'That bloody bitch of yours should be on a lead,' he added with a pained grin at Malfoy who hadn't so much as glanced at Narcissa to see if she was okay.

'Perhaps,' Malfoy chuckled appreciatively. 'But then I could say the same about yours, Black. I'm sure she will find herself at the end of a rope before I'm finished with her.'

Sirius couldn't have been less insulted. Actually, he grinned at Malfoy's rather pathetic attempt to rile him again, although he could see that Snape was having trouble biting his tongue.

'Well...look what we have here. Severus Snape and Sirius Black...and on the same side too...my, times have changed, haven't they? Two traitors who thought they could insinuate themselves into the heart of the Death Eaters. Finally we see their true colours in full splendour. Did either of you ever truly believe that the Dark Lord is that short sighted and dim-witted to ever have fallen for your lies? Did you really believe that we weren't, at all times, fully aware of what you were doing?'

'No, not for a second,' Sirius replied sardonically. 'You're not the liar you think you are, Malfoy...you stupid, worthless excuse for a man.'

Romulus Crabbe, Jacob Goyle, Bertrand Floris, Macnair and Altair Bulstrode started to gather around Malfoy while the women backed off, dragging the still-moaning Narcissa with them. One by one, they began to Disapparate with cracks like snapping whips as they began to detect the scent of the coming storm, leaving the men to their fight. Narcissa, Ophelia and Shana Goyle were the last - Narcissa must have needed the extra support from the two other witches to Apparate properly in her weakened state.

Malfoy was smiling again as he wandered across to the space his wife had occupied to retrieve his wand and his cloak. He brushed a gloved finger across the pool of blood his wife had just been laying in and lifted it to his face, inhaling the scent before licking it from his fingertips. 'It's been a long time since the Death Eaters have tasted blood,' he said with a dark, frighteningly empty glare. 'I wonder if Ariadne's will taste as sweet.'

Sirius' jaw tightened, but he would not allow himself to be provoked again. He couldn't, his strength wasn't going to last much longer and he was sure that Malfoy knew that. But he couldn't do anything to prevent Snape from being so.

'You harm a single hair on Ariadne's head,' he hissed through barely parted lips, 'and I will personally ensure that you suffer in ways that make the Dementor's Kiss look like a gift, Lucius. I know of poisons that liquidise your internal organs and still make sure that you remain conscious enough to feel the pain.'

Malfoy's face was impassive, except for a small twitch in a muscle in his jaw. A flicker of fear burst in his eyes for a moment before they faded back to their usual dull grey.

'Tell me, Lucius,' said Sirius, watching Malfoy carefully as he draped his cloak back around his shoulders and refastened the tassle, 'why did you give Pettigrew to the Ministry if you always suspected I was lying?'

'I would never have done so if it hadn't been in my own best interests, Black. Surely you realise that?' Malfoy replied with an oily smile. 'Pettigrew has been a liability ever since he betrayed you and the Potters thirteen years ago. Nothing but a snivelling, useless little coward. He only returned to the Dark Lord out of fear of what his so-called friends would have done to him had he stayed. Or, of course, what the Ministry would have done to him...presuming that any of those fools would actually have believed your story. The Dark Lord merely used him while he was convenient. He's served his purpose. The Dark Lord has my utter loyalty, he no longer needs filth like Wormtail.'

It was strange; the mixture of feelings uncoiling deep within Sirius' gut. On the one hand, he still had the weight of grief he carried with him constantly over the loss of James and Lily, but on the other...

Pettigrew had always been a little creep in school, following James and him around, basking in their reflected glory. But he had still been their friend. He had been weak and easily manipulated...Sirius could understand that, at least to a certain extent. He had witnessed first hand the power that Voldemort possessed - power to give, power to destroy...it intoxicated some, drowned others. Or in some cases, such as Pettigrew's, a mixture of both. He had sacrificed everything for Voldemort - his friends, his family, his freedom...and all that time he had just been used. He had never even truly been regarded as a member of the Death Eaters. It was as though they had all been laughing at Pettigrew, leading him along until the right time came for him to take the fall for them.

The knowledge seemed somehow to cheapen James and Lily's deaths. It made Sirius feel weak and sick even to think about it. How Voldemort had used Pettigrew simply out of convenience to get to the Potters, how he destroyed all three lives...and almost ruined four more...his, Ariadne's, Harry's and Lupin's...and for what? Now, Pettigrew would likely end up in Azkaban for the rest of his life for being weak, foolish, easily manipulated...for making a huge mistake that he was no doubt deeply regretting now. And Harry no longer had his parents. And it had all been for nothing...

Twisting in Sirius' gut was a mixture of grief and...and...

Pity.

Regret. Anger. Sorrow.

Stupid, foolish little Peter...running around after James, Lupin and him...trying to keep up with them... struggling to master the animagus transformation...his face as carefree and happy as the rest of them in that photograph on Lupin's wall...and all the while, a dark shadow seeping in to cover them all...if only they had known...

Poor Peter...

Poor, weak, stupid, faithless Peter...

'He's not dead, you know, Malfoy,' said Sirius, meeting his eyes. 'It seems to me that you speak very freely about Pettigrew's worth to Voldemort for someone in so precarious a position.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that Pettigrew has proven himself to display loyalty to whichever side happens to hold him at the time. Aren't you worried that he'll tell the Ministry whatever they need to hear about you in order to save his own skin?'

'No, he would never do such a thing. He knows that the Dark Lord could find him anywhere, at anytime...'

'But that's just the thing, isn't it?' Sirius continued, leaning ever more heavily on Snape's shoulder. Snape reached out with his free arm to support Sirius' increasing weight. The pain in his leg was beginning to draw close to unbearable. 'Your pal Voldemort doesn't know anything about what you've been doing here, does he?'

Malfoy's confident glare wavered. He blinked, his gaze dropping from Sirius' for the briefest of moments, but it was enough for Sirius to realise that it was the closest thing to an acknowledgement he would get of the truth.

'Of course he does!'

'Oh come now, Lucius,' said Snape, 'I think everyone here realises that the Dark Lord would never have authorised a gathering such as this in so open and exposed a location. He would never allow all his Death Eaters to be together at any one time because of the risks to himself should the meeting be discovered, he would never have allowed Pettigrew to be captured and,' Snape added, his tone lowered to a vicious, hate-filled growl, 'he most certainly would never have authorised the abduction of my daughter - a move which he would know would attract attention from the Muggle police as well as stimulating new interest in the possibility of his continued survival with the Ministry. Not to mention, of course, provoking my personal anger. The Dark Lord has many failings, Lucius, but one could never accuse him of sheer stupidity. That charge lies solely at the door of his so-called chosen one.'

Malfoy was now slowly turning the same greenish-white as Erytheia's school tie. He swallowed thickly, his eyes no longer able to meet either Sirius' or Snape's. Behind him, the remaining Death Eaters were starting to murmur among themselves and Macnair in particular had a murderous look on his face as his beady little eyes darted between Malfoy and Crabbe, muttering something under his breath.

'My sole concern has only ever been the protection and welfare of the Dark Lord,' Malfoy seethed, his lips curling back from his very white teeth in a snarl of purest hatred. 'My Lord knows that. He trusts his Death Eaters; he trusts me, Snape. I have never let him down before and I will never let him down in the future. I will kill you, Black and everyone you care about...I will deliver your bodies to the Dark Lord himself and he will see for himself who his loyal servants are! Avada Kedavra!'

The jet of green light erupted from the end of Malfoy's wand and shot towards them. Sirius was far too weak to have been able to move on his own, but Snape had already anticipated Malfoy's move and shoved Sirius hard to the left while he threw himself to the right just in time for the jet of light to pass harmlessly through the space they had just occupied and dissipate against the wall behind them.

Snape was already back on his feet, his wand trained again on Malfoy. 'Petrificus Totalus!' he yelled.

Malfoy blocked the spell and sent another jet of light towards Snape, but missed again by at least two feet.

'What are you doing?' Malfoy shouted manically at the other Death Eaters. 'Kill them! Kill them now!'

But they didn't move. Torn, conflicted and confused, they stood together, their gazes fixing alternately on Malfoy, Snape and Sirius, probably trying to decide the real truth for themselves. Sirius privately thought that if they were, with their limited mental faculties, it would mean that they would likely be there all night. Unless they were helped along.

'Would you all let him order you around like that?' Sirius yelled, or tried to, but the strength was rapidly leaving his voice too as he pulled himself back to his feet, bracing his shoulder against the wall for support. 'Haven't you all realised that he's been acting alone? The Dark Lord will kill you all for listening so unquestioningly to him! Why do you think Snape and I have been trying so hard to usurp him? The Dark Lord no longer trusts him, you blind, stupid fools!'

Macnair stepped forward towards Malfoy, slowly raising his wand. 'Malfoy...' he growled, '...I always knew...I knew there was something strange! I warned you!'

'SHUT UP, Macnair!'

'I told you...'

'Avada Kedavra!' Malfoy screamed. A flash of green light. A low scream, ending abruptly. Macnair lay dead.

Before any of the remaining Death Eaters could respond, Malfoy had whirled on them.

'Does anyone else here wish to challenge my authority?' His voice was cracking, his eyes wild, unstable and filled with a very dangerous rage.

Crabbe, Goyle and Bulstrode shook their heads, a mixture of disbelief and shock on their faces. But Bertrand Floris backed off, lowering his wand.

'I do not challenge you, Malfoy,' he said, his voice breathy and punctuated with wheezes as he shook his head, his long white hair falling over his crabbed shoulders, 'but I want no part of this either. I must return to the Dark Lord.' Before Malfoy had a chance to respond, Floris had disapparated.

Sirius started to laugh. It wasn't quite his usual bark, the pain saw to that, but it still held something of his old spirit. 'Well, Malfoy...and we haven't had to do anything. Are you going to see off all your own men for us?'

Malfoy turned back, a cool, calmer brand of anger now settling in his eyes. He carefully pushed his long blonde hair back from face and dabbed the perspiration from his brow with the back of his hand.

'From my point of view, Black,' he said, the calm, measured tone now back in his voice - even his sly, thin smile had crawled back, 'I still see four against two...well,' he chuckled darkly, 'one and a half. I don't think you'll be too nimble with that leg. Hurts, does it, Black? I do hope so.'

'Not half as much as it'll hurt you when you hear the finality of that door closing behind you in Azkaban, Malfoy,' Sirius snarled, determined not to let the pain show in his face. But he was weakening. He needed treatment, he needed rest...and soon.

Malfoy laughed. 'All right then, Black. As you seem so determined to die...' He raised his wand, but he was interrupted by a scraping noise coming from outside, beyond the church. A few seconds later...

'Four against two hardly seems fair to me,' said Lupin, emerging through the porch doors. He glanced quickly at Sirius and Snape, offering them a brief acknowledging smile before continuing forward into the room, wand pointing at Malfoy.

'Ah...the half-blood werewolf,' Malfoy drawled nastily, watching Lupin carefully as he crossed the room, taking up a position between Sirius and Snape. 'My, what a motley crew Dumbledore is assembling these days. Who else does the esteemed old man have waiting out there? Filch, perhaps? Hagrid? One of the house-elves? Or has he taken to recruiting Muggles now? My, my...standards are slipping.'

'Really Lucius, I expected better of you. I've heard better attempts at insults from the Hogwarts students,' Lupin smiled.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a viciously cruel sneer. 'Well you won't be hearing them anymore, will you?'

Lupin chuckled. He was far beyond being affected by anything that Malfoy could say to him. 'I think we're all going to be here a very long time if we're going to exchange insults for the rest of the evening, Lucius, and from the look on Sirius there, I'd say we don't have that long.'

Sirius was looking paler by the second. His grey eyes were almost lost in the pewter sheen that now surrounded them, making his thin face seem more skeletal than ever. Nevertheless, his wand arm remained steady as he pushed away from the wall and, wavering, stood upright. The blood flow seemed to have stopped for the moment, but his black trousers and boots were still glistening like polished jet in the candlelight. Small red droplets marked the spot where he had been standing.

'I'm just fine...Remus,' he panted, gritting his teeth. 'But my patience is waning rapidly, Malfoy. Drop your wands...all of you...now. This is the only...time...I'm going to ask.'

Malfoy didn't even appear to be vaguely amused. 'I don't think I'll dignify that with a response, Black. But you're right...this ends now. Shall we do this as gentlemen...three paces...turn and cast?'

'I don't think so,' Sirius replied, 'you're about as trustworthy as your master.'

Malfoy's lip curled into a vague smile. 'The first wise thing you've said, Black. Very well...Crucio!' he screamed suddenly, whipping the wand around to bear on Lupin. The light shot from the end of Malfoy's wand before either Sirius or Snape could respond - neither of them had been expecting Malfoy to attack so swiftly, or to choose Lupin first. But then it had probably been the most intelligent choice - Sirius was already injured and Lupin was the only other ex-Order member there who had considerable experience in duelling.

The curse hit Lupin right in the centre of his abdomen and he instantly collapsed to his knees. He uttered not a single sound, although the pain told clearly in the twisted grimace on his face as he gnashed his teeth together, even though he kept his eyes fixed firmly on Malfoy's.

'Stupefy!' Sirius screamed at him, but Crabbe stepped forward, deflecting the spell for Malfoy so that he could keep the curse on Lupin who had now screwed his eyes tightly closed and fallen forward onto his hands.

'Drop your wands!' Malfoy retaliated. 'Now! Or I'll kill him!'

Sirius risked everything by transforming, but while Malfoy held the curse on Lupin, they had no chance.

'He'll revert to his werewolf form, Malfoy!' Snape yelled, diverting the other Death Eaters attention from Sirius for long enough to allow him to transform. 'He'll kill us all! Stop it!'

Lupin hunched forward, his head tucked into his chest, a low, thin whine beginning to escape from his throat as he started to shake. Malfoy ignored Snape's warning, his eyes focused solely on Lupin as the light emanating from the tip of his wand flared brightly.

Lupin screamed. A high, blood-curdling shriek of agony that rent the air like a bomb blast. He fell sideways, unable to even stay on his hands and knees anymore, curling into himself like a foetus, sweating and shaking violently, blood beginning to trickle from his nose and ears.

Fangs bared, claws out, Padfoot leapt at Malfoy, both of them flying backwards into the other Death Eaters. Spitting and snarling, Padfoot sank his teeth into Malfoy's shoulder. Blood spattered across the floor as Malfoy screamed and writhed in pain and Crabbe, Goyle and Bulstrode struggled to their feet.

But Sirius had bought them the time they needed. Freed from the curse, Lupin pulled himself shakily to his feet, wiping dust and tears from his face while Snape brought his wand to bear on Goyle and yelled, 'Petrificus Totalus!'

Goyle stiffened up as straight as a board before he'd gotten fully to his feet and collapsed straight back down, hitting the floor with a heavy, dull thud.

'Protego!' Lupin yelled croakily, but the hex still found its target, hitting Crabbe squarely in the face. He flipped back as though his feet had been whipped from beneath him and fell, unconscious across the prostrate Goyle.

Bulstrode's eyes widened in fear as he watched Padfoot mauling Malfoy and his two comrades falling so easily. Before Snape or Lupin could turn their attentions back to him, he had turned tail and was running back through the church towards the crypt. Snape sent a few streaks of light after him, but he had disapparated before any of them could reach him.

Which just left Malfoy.

'All right, Sirius, that's enough,' said Snape, finally lowering his wand as Bulstrode disappeared.

But Sirius had far from finished with Malfoy. His fangs were still planted firmly in Malfoy's shoulder, his claws digging into his chest, mauling him. Malfoy's hands had given up trying to hold back Padfoot's huge, powerful jaws and instead, he took a risk in letting go of the dog completely to ball up his fist and ram it hard against its injured leg.

Padfoot howled dismally in pain and fell off Malfoy's chest, new blood starting to seep from the dog's back leg, congealing like lumps of red jelly in the dust.

Malfoy had rolled over onto his front, cradling his injured arm against his chest while supporting his weight with the other and tried to push himself up. He managed to get onto his knees, grabbed his wand from the floor and brought it around to Padfoot again.

'Sirius, no!' Lupin yelled as Padfoot leapt at Malfoy again, this time going for his throat.

Spitting and snarling, wild with rage and pain, Padfoot's claws ripped across Malfoy's chest and sent him sprawling back to the floor as his teeth snapped at Malfoy's neck.

'Sirius! Stop, now! Don't kill him! Sirius!' Lupin pleaded desperately. 'They'll give you to the Dementors this time...they won't bother with Azkaban! Don't make me stun you, Sirius...get down!'

'That's enough!' Snape yelled frantically, his wand pointed resolutely at Malfoy. 'We have him, Sirius!'

Malfoy's eyes were closed now, his good arm raised protectively over his face as the dog's jaws snapped against it, still trying to get at his throat.

'Sirius!' Lupin pleaded again, but his voice was calmer now. Pacifying. 'I'm all right, my friend...you don't need to punish him...Azkaban will do that. Please...for Ariadne...for Harry...stop.'

Padfoot raised his head, blinking his wild, dark eyes and licking the blood from his lips as he looked across at Lupin. He whined deep in his throat and looked back down at Malfoy, cowering and whimpering beneath him, then made his decision. Limping, he stepped down from Malfoy's chest and backed slowly away from him towards Lupin. Blood was still seeping from beneath the belt as Padfoot lay down on the cold stone slabs, panting in pain and exhaustion. As he laid his head down on his front paws, he shimmered, then slowly transformed.

Sirius was curled up on his side, his eyes closed, his face and leg covered with blood as he started to shiver again. 'I'm sorry, Remus,' he whimpered, tears streaming from beneath his closed lids, 'I couldn't...I wasn't going to let my friends get hurt again...not like James and Lily...I couldn't...I couldn't just...do nothing...I...I could have killed him...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...'

'It's all right,' Lupin said softly, kneeling down beside him, 'it's all right...'

Snape pointed his wand at the bleeding, shaking Malfoy and spat, 'Petrificus Totalus! There...that will keep you from moving and stem the bleeding until Madame Pomfrey can deal with you. Although I must say, I'm tempted to stand here and watch your life slowly seep away after what you did to my daughter. You're going to pay a thousand fold for what you've done here tonight, Malfoy. A thousand fold.'

'Ariadne's waiting outside for you,' said Lupin as he helped Sirius up onto the stretcher he had conjured while Snape had been dealing with Malfoy, 'she's been worried half to death since we learned this was a trap, you know. Dumbledore had to stay outside with her...he's the only wizard powerful enough to have kept her back,' he added with a chuckle.

'Erytheia...is she all right? Is she with...'

'She's fine, Severus,' Lupin reassured him, 'Ariadne has her. We spotted her running from the church just as we were arriving.'

Snape sighed, relief flooding through him and relaxing the tension from his sallow face. 'But why didn't Dumbledore come in if he knew we were in trouble?'

'I'm sure he would have, if he'd thought it was necessary,' Lupin smiled knowingly. He whispered a locomotor charm and Sirius' stretcher levitated into the air. Sirius had finally given up the struggle for consciousness. 'But I rather think that we did perfectly well on our own.'

Snape conjured stretchers for Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, and for Macnair's body, enchanting them to levitate just a few feet from the floor as he followed Lupin towards the door. 'Yes,' he said with a smile, glancing back into the empty, silent church, 'you know, I think we did.'