Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Albus Dumbledore Harry Potter Remus Lupin Sirius Black Severus Snape
Genres:
Action Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 01/12/2003
Updated: 05/03/2003
Words: 102,224
Chapters: 28
Hits: 39,099

Death Before Dishonor

RobinLady

Story Summary:
After being rescued from the Dursleys by Sirius, Harry finds that there ``are still plenty of ways for Voldemort to catch him--and that his life ``may have to be bought at a very high price. Set in fifth year and the ``summer before it.

Chapter 16

Chapter Summary:
After being rescued from the Dursleys by Sirius, Harry finds that there are still plenty of ways for Voldemort to catch him--and that his life may have to be bought at a very high price. Set in 5th year and the summer before it.
Posted:
03/07/2003
Hits:
998

DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR

Chapter Sixteen: Ignition

Bang!

The trash bins exploded. Flying straight up into the air, they sprayed metal fragments and refuse towards the intruder; the debris itself was only a distraction, of course, intended to mask the chunks of metal that would pelt their attacker into submission. At best, the intruder would suffer heinous injuries; at worst, he would be distracted enough to fall victim to a well-timed attack. The method had never failed before, even when the trespasser had been nothing more threatening than a shell-shocked cat. These defenses had only been implemented at the beginning of the summer, and if they were perhaps less kind than the similar ones they had replaced, that was because the house on the corner´s owner had grown more paranoid since that time. If possible.

Unfortunately, however, even though the attacker sprang the trap quite unknowingly, he´d had a shield charm ready and deflected the shrapnel (and the miscellaneous rubbish) with ease. He should have known something like this would happen. His companion cowered behind a nearby hedge as a wooden legged figure clambered out of the little green house, a wand in hand and ready to hex everything in sight. The grizzled old man stopped, wand raised, his magical and real eyes both swiveling over the crouched figure in his front yard. Even if he hadn´t recognized the signature in the shield charm (it had been a very long time, after all) he would have known the unorthodox dueling stance anywhere.

"Sirius Black," Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody grunted. "You´re the last person I expected to see on my doorstep, boy."

The slim, black-haired wizard rose from his crouch. "You want to disable the wards, Alastor? I need a word."

"Only once I´m sure you are who you look like." Moody did not lower his wand. Paranoia, it seemed, was still something he had refined into an art.

"I hardly think any self-respecting Death Eater is going to walk around wearing my face," Sirius replied with a slight smile. Some things really didn´t change, no matter how long you were gone. To prove his point, he slid his own wand inside his robes. "And while I´m perfectly willing to dance with your defenses all day long, I would really rather not keep him out in the open."

He gestured (Sirius had to do so twice before the point got across), and Fudge came creeping out from behind the next-door neighbor´s shrubbery. Moody´s eyebrows rose in immediate recognition, and Sirius watched his old teacher calculate the odds in his head. Finally, the famous Auror nodded, and with a mumbled incantation, lowered the multitudes of wards around the house on the corner. A jerk of Moody´s head led Sirius and the Minister into the little house, and he heard Fudge sigh in relief as the one-legged man stepped aside and held the door open for them. Sirius allowed Fudge to precede him into the house, every sense aware, but consciously keeping his right hand away from his wand, no matter how much that damn hand wanted to stray in that direction. The door closed with a snap, and Sirius felt a tingle of power as Moody´s wand found a place very close to his left ear.

"If you´re anyone other than Sirius Black, you´re a dead man," the other growled. The hostility in Moody´s voice made very instinct in Sirius´ body scream to act, but instead he turned around to look the other man in the eye.

"I don´t think anyone else would be foolish enough to walk unarmed into your house and face you alone," he said calmly. His heart, however, pounded in his ears.

"You always were my brightest student," Moody replied grudgingly, his scarred face finally breaking into a grin. He finally lowered the wand.

"I don´t recall you ever using a word as complimentary as `bright´ during training, Alastor."

"You and Potter had egos enough without my help," Moody snorted, but his tone softened when Sirius felt his own expression grow sad. The other nodded toward Fudge. "But I don´t need to tell you how good you are, especially since I expect that was you wrecking havoc over at the Ministry a bit ago. I hear you took out Malfoy?"

Sirius shrugged. He didn´t ask how Moody knew. Moody always knew. "Down, but not out."

"Still impressive." The ex-Auror clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, Sirius, I know you´re not here without good reason. What can I do for you?"

"Floo Network." He jerked his head at Fudge. "Tickets for two to Hogsmeade. I need to get him to Hogwarts. It´s the only place I´m sure he´ll be safe."

"Wise move. I don´t usually use the Floo Network from my own home, but for you I´ll make an exception." Moody gimped further into the house, gesturing for Sirius and the still-silent Minister to follow him. The walk to the living room (and its fireplace) was thankfully short. "I imagine you have all kinds of `friends´ on your tail."

"You can say that again, but I think I´ve lost them for a bit."

Picking up a glass jar from the mantle, the scarred man turned back to face them. "I wouldn´t be surprised if you did. You´ve always been tricky." For a moment, both his real and magical eyes locked into Sirius´. "I was glad to hear of your innocence, Sirius."

"And I." But he nodded his silent thanks to his old teacher. Their styles might have differed a great deal, but there was no denying all the lessons he had learned from Alastor Moody, and it was good to hear that.

"Speaking of which, I am rather surprised to that you saved him," the old Auror continued coldly. "If I were you, I´d have let him die."

"What?!" The Minister´s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"Shut up, Fudge," Moody retorted casually, his eyes still on Sirius.

"Now see here, Moody--"

"I said to shut up, Fudge." The scarred face swung to glare at the Minister, eyes flashing. Moody´s voice was dangerously soft, and even Cornelius couldn´t miss that message.

"I´d like to think I´m better than that," Sirius finally said in response to Moody´s question. It had the potential to make him uneasy, and he had indeed thought about it, but saving Fudge had been the right thing to do. No matter how many good reasons he had to hate the man.

Moody grinned wolfishly. "So would I. The difference is, I know I´m not." Fudge recoiled. "Now, enough small talk. Get on to Hogwarts, and tell Albus I´ll be along in a day or two."

--------------------

"You will not."

Sirius felt his eyebrows rise as Fudge made the bold, flat statement, his little eyes dark and determined. The Minister had risen from his chair at the announcement, and now glared down at the wizard who sat casually behind the antique desk. Fury radiated off of Fudge in waves, making him seem larger than he truly was, but the soft voice that responded to his challenge was anything but frightened.

"I will not?" Albus Dumbledore looked at the Minister of Magic levelly. "I fail to see how you are going to prevent me."

"Even you would not dare!" Fudge hissed, pointing an enraged finger at Dumbledore. "Why, if you even think about doing so, I will--"

"You will do what, Cornelius?" the headmaster asked softly. "If you attempt to remove me from this school, Voldemort will be here within a day."

"You´re bluffing."

Dumbledore sighed. "I do not bluff, and I am not foolish enough to wish to prove you wrong by leaving," he replied, his voice hardening. "I warned you this would happen, Cornelius. I warned you more than once. The time for deceptions and games is over. I will make the announcement tomorrow afternoon, and I will call for the Wizarding world to back me in defense of light magic."

"You have no right!" Fudge spat, slamming a hand down on the headmaster´s desk with a crack. "I am doing what I see is best. I am trying to prevent riots, chaos! Do you have any understanding of what will happen if you announce that the Dark Lord has returned? People everywhere will panic!"

Suddenly, Dumbledore rose, his voice hard and angry. "And if I do not, more people will die without knowing the threat they face!" he thundered. "We have the ability to win this war only if we stand together. Public image and spin control have no place here! You may have decided to lead the Magical community towards disaster, but I will not permit it! With or without you, Cornelius Fudge, I will win this war!"

"You mean to have my job." Fudge shrank back from the power radiating from the Hogwarts headmaster, staring at the old man with wide eyes. Sirius blinked, trying to convince himself that the Minster wasn´t actually trembling, but he was. Oh, he was.

Then again, if Dumbledore had looked at him that way, he´d probably be quaking as well. To his right, he could see that Snape felt the same as the Potions master let out a soft breath in admiration, and for once, he agreed completely with the former Death Eater. When Sirius and Fudge had arrived at Hogwarts late in the afternoon, the Minister of Magic had been badly shaken and hardly capable of coherent thought. A few potions made by Snape had returned Fudge to his senses (what little of them he possessed, anyway), and then they had begun to discuss the issue at hand. While Fudge had been grateful enough for the protection offered, he steadfastly refused to acknowledge that it was Voldemort he needed protecting from. Even after seeing the Dark Lord with his own eyes--and witnessing the destruction Voldemort could wreck--Fudge would not admit to the truth. Trying to protect the Minister from their pursers (and from himself) had nearly driven Sirius insane, and he´d been grateful when Dumbledore had told Fudge to shut up as Madam Pomfrey examined Sirius. She´d fussed, poked, and prodded while he´d told Dumbledore what had happened, and yelled at Snape when the Potions master had asked, rather interestedly, if Malfoy was dead. Sirius, however, had simply told Snape that he was welcome to the senior Death Eater, and had been slightly complimented (not to mention surprised) that Snape had naturally assumed Malfoy wouldn´t kill him. Dumbledore´s answer, though, brought him back to the present.

"No. I have no more intention to become the Minister of Magic than I did twenty years ago," he said. "However, I will lead the fight against Voldemort. And I mean to do it with or without your support." His blue eyes burned into Fudge, and Sirius saw the other man shiver. "You have made your choice clear, Cornelius.

"And I have made mine."

Sirius gave up on watching Fudge. His reactions were all the same: shock and fear. Rather, he kept his eyes on the headmaster, slightly awed by the power that Dumbledore could radiate in moments like t his. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he had seen this before--once, almost sixteen years ago, in a highly charged encounter between Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, that had almost ended in disaster--but it was still incredible to witness. So many wizards had a tendency to underestimate Dumbledore, despite his reputation. They only saw the twinkling blue eyes and the eccentric habits. They never saw the iron-hard backbone that existed beneath the smiling exterior, never thought to remember that Voldemort feared Dumbledore. Perhaps that was because the headmaster had always been a mover of events rather than a warrior; he preferred to work behind the scenes and use his foresight and abilities to guide others in achieving their goals. However, there were moments--as a Dark wizard named Grindelwald had discovered--when Dumbledore could be a very frightening enemy.

The Minister´s eyes moved from the headmaster, searching the staff room for an ally of any kind, but all he found was Sirius and Snape. For a moment, Fudge stared at Sirius, his big eyes pleading with the ex-Auror to save him once more, but Sirius ignored the silent entreaty. His presence and Snape´s, the professor knew, were intended to support Dumbledore. He had already related the summer´s events to the Minister, just like Snape had related a heavily watered-down version of his experiences--but Fudge still did not believe. Perhaps he could not believe.

Or maybe he just wanted to hang onto his power so badly that he could think of nothing else.

"Albus..." he whispered desperately. "Surely there must be another way..."

"There is not other way," Dumbledore replied coldly. "Are you with me or not?"

"You would not truly break with the Ministry," Fudge said quickly. "After everything we have done together...after all of this time..."

Dumbledore stared at him.

"But there is..." Fudge trailed off helplessly, and there was a long silence. Finally, the headmaster spoke in a soft voice, but he was still radiating that undeniable and dangerous power. His eyes, unflinching, rested upon the Minister of Magic.

"Make the choice, Cornelius."

--------------------

Midnight. Darkness. The time the Death Eaters come out to play.

The neighbors might have been Muggles, but they had grown used to strange noises coming from the little green house on the corner. Odd rumors surrounded its owner, the strangest of which usually included attacking dustbins or possessed shrubbery. But the owner of the house was usually a gentleman, and had lived in the house for years. He could be a bit moody, at times, but the neighbors understood. So, they ignored the strange noises when they started around eleven o´clock that night. Perhaps he was having a party. That could account for the banging and flashing lights. A party. Sure.

The screaming began around midnight.

One by one, curious and concerned neighbors drifted out of their homes. Most stayed in their own yards, and although some ventured so far as the street, no one went closer to the house on the corner. Something was just wrong there. The screaming had been going on, almost without stop, for nearly one half of an hour. No one knew what its cause could be, but it sounded terrible. Something was wrong, and finally, one neighbor, an elderly woman who had known the man in the house on the corner for years, thought to call the police.

Just before the police cars rolled up, the neighbors saw a green flash. Seconds later, a strange image of a skull floated into the sky, a snake coming out of its mouth like a tongue.

--------------------

Pain.

His scar was burning. For a short moment, Harry felt as if his skull was on fire, and then, suddenly, he felt awareness. This wasn´t like his dreams. It wasn´t like anything he had ever felt before, but suddenly, he felt as if Voldemort was aware of him, too, and knew he could feel the Darkness...and then it was gone. Empty. The burning stopped, but Harry had a feeling that Voldemort had not.

He, blinked, looking around the darkened room, and could see that his classmates slept peacefully. Had he imagined the pain? Was it only a dream? The burning had only lasted for a second or two; maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was nothing.

But he knew it wasn´t.

--------------------

It was an island, rocky and cold. Every now and then, if one listened closely enough, screams could be heard from within its walls, but there were no Muggles nearby to wonder what that was for. And no wizard in their right mind would travel anywhere near the place.

Boats, however, were approaching the shore, bearing cloaked figures with wands out. Behind the masks, the men and women were tense; few wanted to journey to Azkaban Fortress, but none would disobey. All had spent over a decade avoiding this terrible place, but they came to its shores now, willingly and obediently. Even from afar, the pain and suffering contained within those walls was palatable, and more than one boater felt a shiver run down their spine. Hooded figures drifted towards the docks to meet the boats.

One figure stepped out from the lead boat, arms upraised in greeting. He alone was without fear; the others could see him smiling. The wind whipped across the island, but the figure did not seem to notice or care as his cloak danced around his body. He simply strode across the rocky shore with confidence, like a king returning victoriously to his country after years of exile.

One by one, the Dementors began to bow.


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Author´s Note: First, let me say a giant THANK YOU for all the reviews, especially in support of my creative spell work and the tiny bit of language that nobody seemed to mind. This time around, the chapter´s a bit short, but I do hope you like it and will review. Stay tuned for a bit of Sirius´ past to creep into the picture... I can´t tell you what, but I promise it´ll be good!