Shades of Black

Author's Note: All right, here it is, the fourth part of Shades of Black, and it's also the longest yet. Originally a 740-word drabble, it's been expanded to 4500-plus words, as well as received a new title. A massive, giant "Thank You" goes out to Colores and thegirllikeme (both of MNFF) for looking this fic over, especially considering how MUCH it changed from its original version. (Adding about 4000 words to anything will do that, of course!) Also, a "Thank You" goes to Broken_Innocence of HPFF / Betasrus, for looking over the initial version of this story. And now, without further ado, I present for your enjoyment, Recognition.

~**~

Recognition

~**~

"Is everyone ready for this?"

The volume of his voice was so low, it was barely audible, but his companions were able to catch every last word. They were all quite familiar with whispered conversation; after all, silence was a formidable ally in any war, especially the deadly and dangerous conflict that they had all been experiencing for nearly a decade. Glancing behind him, he made out the distinguished forms of several witches and wizards through the shadows. The determined and set expressions on their faces were only slightly visible in the poor, late-night lighting from the moon and stars.

Every one of them nodded determinedly, some shifting their positions as they remained hidden in the shadows. Whether they did it to get a better view of their target or to become less visible was impossible to tell. All of them, however, tightened their grips on their wands, spells and incantations already flying through their individual minds in preparation of the possible battle to come. (While they hoped there would not be too much of a conflict, every one of the witches and wizards knew to be ready; too many had died in this war already because people had been unprepared.

"We're as ready as we can be," muttered Frank Longbottom, looking over his shoulder to survey his companions. He was third in the line, right behind the two wizards who had been chosen to lead this particular assault, regardless of their young age. Glancing at them, he continued, "We've planned this for weeks, after all."

And they had. It had been around twenty days since the information had been delivered to the Order of the Phoenix via one of Dumbledore's spies (though precisely who that was, not a single one of the witches and wizards could say). "The Dark Lord is using it as a base," the information had said. "He rarely visits it himself, but the Death Eaters do ..." Unfortunately, the spy - whoever he was - had not had a great deal of specifics to share, just the general picture. He could not tell them what artefacts, documents, plans, or prisoners they could possibly find. He had only told them that around five of the Dark Lord's servants were known to use the building regularly. And any time that Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Evan Rosier, and Will Travers met in the same place, there was sure to be something of importance.

So for almost three weeks, they had put this mission together, piece by piece. All available knowledge of the building - its layout, its history, its surrounding geography, everything - had been gathered, studied, and examined. They had watched the building since the beginning, in the hopes of figuring out a pattern to the comings and goings of the followers of the Dark Lord. However, they had gained nothing from that, except to prove that the spy had, indeed, been telling the truth.

But they were ready now. Twenty days later, there could be no more planning; it was simply a time for action. The Order was prepared to strike.

And it would be just the Order: mistrust in the Ministry of Magic ran high lately, especially as more and more government officials proved to be loyal to Voldemort. Whether they served him willingly or not, it did not matter. A wizard under the Imperius Curse could be trusted just as much as an outright Death Eater could, and the Order had ceased taking the unnecessary risk of involving the Ministry.

A cloud shifted in the sky, revealing a nearly full moon that gleamed down on the grounds and provided more light. The outline of their target - though it had been impossible to miss even in the pitch black darkness of earlier - became even more pronounced.

Everyone looked at the tall, massive structure in front of them. It was located only a few metres from where they stood hidden in the cover of the surrounding dark forest, whose trees were close enough to each other to provide ample amounts of protection for the group. The building's thick stone walls towered towards the night sky. No lights shone through the high, glass windows, and heavy, iron gates kept out unwanted visitors - most of the time, that is. There were no sounds coming from within the building, and even the gardens in the front of the manor seemed undisturbed; no footprints could be seen in the dirt, and the grass and weeds grew all over the place, evidently displaying a lack of care and upkeep by the home's owner. At a quick glance, it would not appear that anyone was - or had recently been - inside the building.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix, who were currently gathered in the forest, however, knew better. Information gathered over the past weeks told them so. They knew that the manor wasn't empty. Just like they knew the moment had come.

"It's time," said one of the leading wizards, glancing over to the person on his right. He frowned slightly when he noticed the tightness and increased paleness on his friend's face. "Sirius?" he asked. But he received no response; his friend did not appear to have heard him.

Sirius Black's gaze remained focussed on the building, his stare so intense that he had not even noticed the extremely tight grip with which he held his wand - a grip that, if it was any tighter, would surely snap the wooden instrument in half - and nor did he hear the voice of his companion call to him. A sharp, tingling feeling that felt both hot and cold at the same time raced up and down his spine, causing him to shiver involuntarily. He could feel the oppressive levels of Dark magic that oozed from the building, enveloping and wrapping themselves around the stone. The intuitive feeling towards the Dark Arts, developed after years of growing up around them, dwelled in his blood. Although everyone, regardless of blood purity, could recognise different types of magic - mainly that between Dark and Light - those with a purer bloodline had a more subtle recognition towards certain types of magic, especially to those of which they were constantly exposed.

And for Sirius, that just happened to be the darker version.

But the Dark magic was not the only thing freezing up the wizard's usually quick mind. Sights and sounds assaulted his senses, and he could not tell if they were fiction or reality, memory or nightmare. Fragmented flashes of something - memory, fear, he did not know - swept through his head, moving too fast for him to place even if he had wanted to.

Dark rooms; shadows broken only by an occasional candle. Muffled voices - whispers - from cloaked figures. Screams breaking the quiet, but quickly stifled. Voices.

"--doesn't believe he's far -" The voice is gruff and low; the speaker is male, definitely. But it's impossible to tell more than that.

"--not ready yet."

"No matter -" A familiar voice; he knows her, but doesn't want to. Family always knows one another, though. Blood recognises blood, after all.

"It's almost time."

Too many voices. Undistinguishable muttering.

Footsteps - at least five sets, maybe more. A banging door, a clicking lock. Blinding light. Too bright.

"Hold him down." Another voice; it is somewhat familiar. Who is it?

More sounds, footsteps, and then grabbing. Fingers are wrapping around his arms, pulling him back, bringing him down. But instinct rises up. Fight; struggle. Pain and more screaming - Everything hurts ... Hot. Cold ... so very cold.

A new voice. Or an old one? He can't tell. "Are you ready?"

"Everything must be erased -"

"He can't remember anything." She's speaking again, the woman he knows ... but doesn't want to. "The Dark Lord's orders -"

"Of course ... Obliviate!"

No pain, no cold. It's gone - disappeared. No light ... Darkness ... Bliss ...

"Sirius?"

He knew that voice ... But it didn't fit with the others. "Sirius?"

"Sirius?"

He broke free of the images as a hand grasped his shoulder, giving him a slight shake. Blinking, he tried to force the residual pictures away, taking a deep breath before turning to his friend. But bits and pieces continued to flicker: "It should have worked -" Shivering in the icy cold. Faint echoes of voices. "--thought you said there was no resistance ..." Pitch darkness, then bright light. "--growing weaker, his strength is failing; let's try again -" Muttered incantations ... And no matter how many images he saw or how hard he tried to remember, he could not - did not even know if he should remember anything.

"Everything all right?" James Potter's voice was quiet as he spoke, the words only loud enough for the dark-haired man next to him to hear. James's eyes grew worried as Sirius failed to respond.

The paleness in Sirius's face grew heavier, and his intense gaze on the building became even more focussed.

"Sirius -"

"Yeah," muttered Sirius, pulling his stare from the manor for the first time that night and glancing at his friend. His heart rate had fallen back to a normal pace; the flashing images in his mind were slowly disappearing. Returning James's action of a grasp on the shoulder, he continued, "Everything's fine ... I'm fine, Prongs."

"He can't remember anything."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," said Sirius, an expression between that of a smile and a smirk spreading across his face. "It's nothing, really. I was just thinking ..."

"About?"

Sirius's grin grew wider, and a mischievous twinkle entered his eyes. "About how much fun tonight should be. What else?" But Sirius didn't give James a chance to answer. "Let's go."

The last two words were spoken to the other seven people in the group as Sirius looked over his shoulder at every one of them. He still felt James's stare on him and knew his friend wasn't completely reassured that he was all right, but now was simply not the time to dwell on it. As long as the images stayed away - Where are they from, anyway? he thought - he would be fine. There would be plenty of time after this mission to try and figure everything out, to try and remember - if he was meant to remember.

Now, however, the focus needed to be on the mission, on the target. Distraction would only result in defeat.

As one solid group, the members of the Order crept out from the forest's cover, their darkly-coloured robes providing them with camouflage as they snuck closer towards the building. Their footsteps were silent, the thick grass muffling even the smallest of sounds, and they all allowed themselves a bit of hope. Perhaps everything would go according to plan, and they would succeed in sneaking in unidentified. Halfway between the forest's edge and the doors to the manor, such seemed like a strong possibility: there was still no sign of opposition, no sign that the occupying Death Eaters even knew the Order was there. A few more steps, and the silence continued; the wizards and witches continued on their way unimpeded. They were three-quarters of the way there; just ten more steps and they would be able to touch the front doors -

The front doors that suddenly burst open, banging back against the stone walls and revealing a room flooded with bright light. A stream of darkly-robed figures exited the manor, wands in their hands and firing spells at the approaching members before anyone had a chance to shout a warning. James's shout of "Take cover!" was about a half second too late.

"Circumvolo!"

Michelle Waterstone went spinning through the air as the Death Eater's spell hit her squarely in the chest. Her scream echoed in the night - until it was suddenly silenced by her body's impact with the iron gate, whose top, pointed spike found itself piercing through the 24-year-old witch's stomach.

Alexander Rogers fell as Travers shouted, "Caedes maximum!" and gashes erupted all over his frail form, bleeding profusely and unceasingly. He was not even given the chance to scream: it only took Rogers a few seconds to bleed to death.

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted the leading Death Eater - Rodolphus? Dolohov? Sirius thought, but it was too dark to fully identify him. The bright, green light charged through the air, barely missing Frank Longbottom as the Auror dove to the ground. Sirius sent a Stunning Spell at the Death Eater, but the Dark wizard threw up a shield at the last possible moment, smirking as Sirius was forced to dodge his own spell.

"Reducto!" Frank's voice echoed as he fired the spell from his position on the ground, sending it directly into the wall above the entrance of the manor. It impacted the stone, shattering it and sending the debris flying at the group of Death Eaters, most of whom saw the tumbling rocks soon enough to gain some protection. Frank's attacker, however, wasn't one of them, and a particularly large stone sent the man flying down the steps.

Spells, shouts, and screams came from both sides of the battle as the night wore on. Bright lights in a multitude of colours - red, green, blue, purple, black, white - hurled through the air from the tips of dozens of wands. Some managed to hit their intended targets - like Rodolphus Lestrange's Cruciatus Curse that sent Dorcas Meadowes to the ground, screaming and twitching in agony. James's Body-Bind Curse caused Dolohov to collapse into a bush that James ardently hoped contained thorns. Bellatrix's Stunning Spell hit Alice Longbottom, inadvertently saving the female Auror from a Killing Curse sent her way by Adrian Wilkes, while Mulciber happened to get in the way of Sirius's Stinging Hex. Other spells just impacted solid objects like trees or walls, or each other in the air, deflected from their original victim.

At the beginning, the battle had seemed to be pretty evenly matched - nine Order members against twelve Death Eaters - but soon more and more followers of the Dark Lord came outside to fight. It was like a never-ending wave of black as the figures surged forwards, their wands raised and incantations on their tongues. Spells turned far more deadly as time went on, and green became the predominant colour coming from the Death Eaters. Shouts of "Crucio!" and "Avada Kedavra!" were interspersed with other incantations of Dark curses, but the members of the Order of the Phoenix continued fighting back. None had permanently fallen, other than Rogers and Waterstone, though injuries were growing. Things in the battle were becoming worse. There were just too many Death Eaters, and many of the Unforgivables barely managed to miss their intended victims, the beams of light coming far too close for comfort.

When Adrian Wilkes sent a broken beam of the destroyed front doors straight into the chest of Marcia Penn, killing her instantly, and Jonathan Bennett fell into the path of Travers's Carnificus Curse, beheading the former Ravenclaw before he had a chance to scream, the Order members knew it was over. There were only five of them left alive, all of whom were injured in some way, and the Death Eaters just continued coming.

"Get back!" exclaimed Frank, though the words barely made it out of his mouth before they were cut off by a scream; a particularly nasty curse had torn a deep gash into his right shoulder. The Auror stumbled backwards, clutching his bleeding arm as he sent a curse at the Death Eater who had attacked him. The spell missed.

"To the forest!" Alice's voice followed her husband's, and the members of the Order began their retreat to the outer edge of the forest - the point where Apparition was possible. Fighting their way back, they clutched the fallen bodies of their companions. Whether through Summoning Spells or human strength, the dead bodies of Waterstone, Rogers, Penn, and Bennett made it to the forest's edge. And one by one, as each member of the Order reached the safety point - still firing spells at the pursuing Death Eaters - they Disapparated away.

Not a single one of them realised that one of their number did not manage to hear the call for retreat.

As the battle wore on, Sirius had grown separated from the rest of the Order. One way or another, (he didn't quite remember how), he had ended up on the far side of the building, opposite of the forest and hidden from its edge by the stone manor. He and his opponent were cloaked in the heavy shadows of the late night; the stone manor blocked what little light the moon and nearby battle could have provided them.

Both Sirius and the Death Eater bore slight injuries. A bleeding gash in the Death Eater's shoulder caused his left arm to be almost useless, but he was right-handed, so the effect wasn't large. Sirius suffered from at least one injury in his right knee that severely limited his mobility. A few scratches and bruises were added to these wounds, but still, the men fought. It was a duel that had been going for several minutes, neither wizard ever seeming to get the upper hand. The Death Eater would stumble from Sirius's curse, but he would retaliate just as quickly, his own spell creeping past the defences of the Order member. Their wands blurred as spells - both verbal and non-verbal - were hurled in quick succession, impacting shields, each other, and their intended targets.

A scream suddenly tore through the air, the voice laced with agony. James? Frank? Sirius couldn't even tell who it was who had issued the cry, just that it was someone familiar, but that knowledge wasn't the most important thing. The scream had caused him to have a momentary lapse in concentration, taking a split second too long to respond to the Death Eater's spell. Sirius's Shield Charm didn't make it up in time, and the Death Eater's spell blasted right through the feeble barrier, sending Sirius flying back into the stone wall of the manor. His own cry of pain escaped him as his head impacted the wall, and blackness temporarily took over his sight. Blinking furiously, he tried to clear his vision, tried to force the blackness to recede and his opponent to come into focus.

He saw a blurry shape in front of him and assumed that such was the Death Eater. He raised his wand to fire a spell, knowing even as he did so that it was too late. A hissed "Expelliarmus!" from the other wizard tore Sirius's wand from his grip.

Glancing up, Sirius saw the Death Eater standing directly above him, his darkly-robed form blending into the shadowed night, and both his and Sirius's wands held in his hand. Sirius's heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew that this was it. This was how he would die ... and it was not exactly in the way he had expected. Never before had Sirius thought that he'd die sitting on a grassy floor at the feet of some nameless, faceless Death Eater. Never had he thought it would be because of his own foolishness; he knew better than to be distracted in a duel. Pain throbbed in his head, and he could feel the sticky substance in his hair; there had to be a cut from his impact with the wall.

"--doesn't have a choice."

"He wants him dead, you know -"

The images were back.

Hot and cold. A tingling feeling racing through his body, making him shiver. Whispers, mutterings. There are more voices. At least a dozen this time.

"Not yet -" An unknown voice, one he'd never heard before.

Footsteps. Some running; some walking ... at least one simply shuffling. He thinks so, anyway. Pitch blackness makes it impossible to see. Bright light flares to life, again making seeing impossible. Blinded either with darkness or light, it doesn't matter; the result is the same.

He cannot see ... He cannot move ... He cannot remember.

"You don't understand! Resistance will increase, not -"

Sirius tried to tear his mind from the memories, from the thoughts, from whatever the hell they were. Now was not exactly a good time for him to be losing any focus.

Still, just because he wanted them to stop, tried with all his power to get them to stop, didn't mean that they obeyed. Rather, they ignored his attempts.

Shouting. Screaming. "You know who I am, don't you?"

He does, but he doesn't want to. It is all so hot ... or so cold ... either, neither, both ... He doesn't know.

"Everything must be erased -"

Dragging up the will from somewhere deep inside, Sirius forced the images to stop, to fade, or at the very least, dim into the background. Not now, he thought, his grey eyes still staring at the tall figure in front of him. He didn't know how long the thoughts, the memories, had kept him ... And yet, the Death Eater remained unmoving, just surveying him through the eyes of a silver mask. There was hesitation in him, Sirius realised, and he knew that he had to act, had to try something, wandless or not.

Another scream echoed in the night, and as the Death Eater turned his head slightly in the direction of the battle, Sirius took his chance. He leapt from the ground and headed towards the Dark wizard in an effort to seize a wand - any wand. Sirius grabbed onto his opponent's sleeve, surprising the other wizard enough that his first Stunning Spell soared over Sirius's head and hit a nearby flower bush.

The second, however, barely missed him. Sirius twisted out of the way of the spell's path and reached once more towards the Death Eater's outstretched hand, paying no attention to the double-vision caused by his still-bleeding head injury. His fingers brushed the cool, ebony wood of his wand just seconds before he felt the tip of the Death Eater's wand pressed against his chest.

"Caedes Saucio!" cried the Death Eater.

Sirius turned just enough to keep the curse from hitting him in the chest and wounding him fatally, but not enough to dodge the spell entirely. It still tore a bloody and jagged wound in his shoulder and sent a fiery pain shooting through his arm. He cried out, and the shock was enough to cause Sirius's fingers to slip from his wand. He stumbled backwards, due to a combination of the new injury and his still-swimming sight, and Sirius hardly heard the words of his opponent as the Death Eater fired another spell.

"Incarcerous!" he exclaimed, and Sirius fell back to the ground as the ropes twisted around his wrists and ankles, binding him tightly. He barely managed to keep his head from banging against the manor's wall a second time.

Shit, he thought, breathing heavily and trying to still his racing heart. His sight was blurry from the loss of blood, and blackness wanted to creep into his vision, but Sirius stubbornly blinked it back. The wound in his shoulder definitely wasn't helping matters, either, and fiery pain shot down his arm continuously. Damnit. Half-heartedly, Sirius struggled against the bindings, hoping for any sort of give in them that might cause the ropes to break.

There wasn't, and they didn't.

Looking up, he met the gaze of the Death Eater standing in front of him. Remarkably, the other wizard had managed to keep his mask on all throughout his fight with Sirius. Hell, he doesn't even look like he was in a fight, Sirius thought bitterly, biting back a cry as another wave of agony tore through his arm. He could no longer feel his fingers in that hand, and he knew that was a bad sign; he didn't need to examine the wound to know that it needed healing immediately.

Sirius's sight swam, and he blinked away the dizziness. But even as he did so, he knew. As his breathing returned to normal and his heart rate slowed from its frantic pace of earlier, as the adrenaline slowly left him, he knew. Sirius's mind told him that the game had surely ended now.

The Dark wizard, however, just kept his wand pointed at Sirius's chest. He spoke no words, no incantations, nothing. He was still hesitating, it seemed. But as for why, the dark-haired wizard hadn't the faintest idea. Unless ... The thought filled Sirius with a horror that made him cease that train of thought immediately. It was a fear that seemed to paralyse him, a dread that he couldn't ever remember feeling before - although a part of him told him that he should.

Screams. Voices. Too much pain ... too cold ...

"He's ready for -"

"It is time."

Sirius's eyes remained on the other wizard, even as the images tried to reassert themselves in his mind's eye. Fear grew stronger in him as the time continued to tick by. The Death Eater did not move an inch. Surely he would have killed Sirius by now, if he was going to.

Or did his opponent just plan on letting Sirius bleed to death?

He hoped not.

All right, Sirius thought to himself, trying to shove the pain and fear away. Think of a way out of this mess. But nothing came, no matter how hard he tried. Fear, horror, dread, pain ... the emotions were paralysing him, cutting off all thought.

If the Death Eater wasn't going to kill him, then he had another fate in mind, a fate that Sirius did not even want to contemplate. Although, the emotions that were freezing him up would let him think of nothing else.

The number of witches and wizards known to have been captured by the Death Eaters wasn't precisely a very high number; outright killing seemed to be more in their arena than holding captives, after all. But such a fate had happened.

Angela Reynolds had disappeared from her home, only to be found during a raid on a Death Eater stronghold eight months later. She never made it to St. Mungo's for treatment of her injuries.

Michael and David Carter - both Aurors - were taken by Voldemort's followers during a battle. It was two years before they were found in an area of known Dark activity.

Their bodies were in pieces.

Disappearances and captures were not anything new, they were just rare. And everyone knew that death was usually preferable.

"You're sure?"

"He won't remember a single thing."

A motion caught Sirius's eye, helping to tear his mind from the images. For a moment, he thought that the Death Eater was finally going to do something other than stare at him. Perhaps he hadn't planned on capturing him at all and was just now finding the ability to kill him. Such a thought made Sirius want to curse himself once again for his foolishness at not only being distracted, but being distracted by an inexperienced Death Eater.

This is it, he thought, knowing that he didn't have a way out this time: the ropes wouldn't give and he could barely see straight. He braced himself for the curse, not knowing if doing so made any difference at all. Vaguely, a part of him wondered if it hurt to die; it wasn't like anyone had ever given an answer to the question, after all. So, it was a valid concern.

But the Death Eater did not wave his wand or say any spell. Instead, he slowly tore the mask from his face, letting the object fall to the ground at his feet. Sirius, whose mind was torn instantly from thoughts of death or pain, paid no attention to the mask. He just stared at the Death Eater, whose face looked so like his own.

"Regulus?"

~**~

Author's Note: Whew! Working on this part was exhausting - but incredibly enjoyable as well. Part IV was originally called "Brother," inspired by the ending of the piece, of course, but as I basically rewrote it while making it lengthier and more detailed, other aspects of the story came out, and I came to the conclusion that "Brother" didn't fit too much with the entire story, and thus a title of "Recognition" was born.


I do have ideas for a sequel/companion piece to this part, (the prologue for it has been floating in my head since I finished "Recognition", actually). As of now, the sequel will be posted as a SEPARATE story, tentatively titled "Recovery," though that is *very* subject to change; it's been the story's working title since the beginning, but I'm not too fond of it, to be honest. It will basically be a First War fic from this point onwards, probably including the events of Hallowe'en 1981 and the Sirius versus Peter confrontation near the end.

A continuation of Part IV had always been in the back of my head, especially since the literary element being demonstrated was that of 'cliff hangers', and as I was rewriting it now, a lot more of the story came out - Sirius's thoughts/memories/imaginings/whatever you want to call them, for example. Whether they're real or not, that is the question. And if they are, what exactly do they mean? (Don't worry; I do have the answers, and you can find out in the sequel.)

You can probably look for the sequel to start being posted within the coming weeks or so. The prologue is basically complete (I chose to rearrange my original way of writing the story's beginning chapters, so the prologue needed to be edited some more), and as soon as I can decide on a definitive title and a summary, I'll be posting the fic.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I did writing it. Please, share your thoughts.

~Megan