The Choices We Make

Harry Potter stepped into the living room with the mail. Not much that looked very good. A letter, the paper, a lot of bills and some advertisements. The boy brushed his black hair out of his eyes and sighed, tucking the bills under the newspaper. His uncle wouldn't be happy to see those. Harry didn't want to upset him. Especially now, with him still feeling so ill.

He tossed the mail onto a tray and put some breakfast on as well before carrying the tray to his uncle's bedroom.

Harry knocked on the door. Softly at first, but louder when he got no response.

"Uncle Remus?"
"Come in, Harry," came the soft reply.

Harry opened the door and was surprised to see his uncle dressed and out of bed. Harry furrowed his brow in concern. "Are you sure you should be up?"

Remus sent him a tired smile. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he looked far too thin and frail to be walking around. "Probably not, but I hate just lying in bed. If I stayed in bed every time I got sick, I'd never get a chance to live." He sat down on the edge of the bed and motioned for Harry to join him. "Anyway, we need to get your schoolbooks, today."

Harry brightened. That's right. He'd be starting at Hogwarts soon. Maybe he could even talk Remus into letting him take a little extra out of his vault to buy an owl. At least then he could write easier to his uncle.

Harry glanced at Remus who had picked up the mail, allowing the paper to slip back onto the bed while he flipped through the bills. There was a strained look in his eyes. It was often hard for them to make ends meet, because Remus' condition often kept him out of work. No one wanted to hire a werewolf. And Remus refused to allow Harry to use any of his own money to help with the bills. That was another reason Harry was glad to go to Hogwarts. It would be one less person for Remus to worry about. But then again, his uncle would have no one to take care of him either.

Harry sighed and picked up the paper. The picture on the front page immediately drew his eyes. It was a shot of Gringotts with healers taking people out. The dark mark floated in the air above the bank. Next to it was a picture of a handsome wizard, laughing. It was the picture they always used of Black, and it was clearly old. Honestly, Harry wondered where they'd gotten it. By the looks of him, he'd have sworn it was taken before Black had started killing. Harry's eyes traveled down to the article.

Black Strikes Again: Is No Place Safe?

Rita Skeeter

August 1, 1991

Yesterday, the wizarding world was shaken once again as Gringotts Bank, known as one of the safest places in the wizarding community, was brutally attacked by a legion of Death Eaters out for some fun. No one is certain exactly what the Death Eaters were after, but with the variety of strange and useful treasures hidden in the bowels of Gringotts, one can only guess what twisted uses the Dark Lord could find. Some items on the possible list were the sword of Godric Gryffindor as well as a mirror with special powers. Some even go so far as to guess that he was after the Philosopher's stone itself, although no one can confirm that any of these items reside at Gringotts at this time. Sources claim that the Death Eaters were led by none other than the Dark Lord's first in command, Sirius Black.

Sirius Black is a name that has become almost as feared as the Dark Lord's own, over the past ten years. Once a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Black lived up to his family name, turning toward the dark arts after graduation, and eventually sealing his betrayal when he committed his first known attacks on October 31, 1981, resulting in the deaths of Lily Evans Potter and James Potter. The only survivor of this brutal attack was their son, Harry James Potter, who was at that time staying with a family friend, Remus John Lupin. Since then, death has been a name synonymous with Black. There are rumors that the Minister of Magic has set a price on Black's head. Perhaps if they'd start taking the rumors of Black's upcoming attacks seriously, they could catch him in his tracks, rather than send rookie aurors who are as likely to help Black as slow him.

Let us hope that Black's death will come swiftly. Perhaps this will be enough to give our aurors the edge they need to survive. Panic is at an all time high, especially with the attack being right in Diagon Alley, only one month before classes commence at Hogwarts. Many are afraid to shop for their children. Many more are afraid to send them to school. If Gringotts can be breached, why not Hogwarts? Especially now. This year young Harry Potter, 11, son of Lily and James Potter will attend the school. Will Black be able to ignore this temptation? Is there anywhere left that's safe? This reporter doesn't think so.

Harry almost dropped the paper. This was insane. First Gringotts is broken into, and now they're talking like Black himself would want to target him? Harry Potter? Why would Black care about him? Remus had told him all about his parents' deaths years ago. Black had been working for Voldemort, and had been sent to "convince" his parents to switch sides in the rising war. They had refused, and that had resulted in death. It wasn't like they'd been specific targets. Why would Black feel the need to hunt him down now, ten years later?

"Is something wrong, Harry?" Remus said, sending the boy a concerned look.

Harry blinked a couple of times and shook his head to snap out of it. "Oh, sorry. It's just that crazy Skeeter woman again putting rubbish into the paper." He handed the Prophet over to his uncle, who read the article with an increasingly concerned look on his face.

"Uncle Remus?"

Remus looked tired, and ran his hand over his face. "This isn't good."

Harry sent him an odd look. "What isn't good? She's probably made most of that up. Especially the part about me."

Remus just looked worried. "I'd like to agree, but I think she unintentionally printed the truth this time."

"What?" Harry felt cold.

Remus held up the letter he'd been reading. "It's from the headmaster, discussing two things." He sighed. "The first is asking me if I would be willing to take a position as professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at the school this year."

"That's great!" Harry broke in.

"No, it isn't. The position is only open, because one of those Death Eaters, presumably Black, killed the new professor in the Gringotts attack." Remus' expression was grave. "Bill Weasley was a fine man. What's worse is that Black knew him. They were friends once, a long time ago."

He paused, letting the darkness pass over him. "The second thing the headmaster requested was that I go immediately to the Ministry to request some sort of a guard for you."

"What?" Harry broke in, wishing he could think of something more intelligent to say. "Why? Don't tell me they're taking Skeeter's 'sources' seriously."

"They are. Harry, there are things you don't know about Black. Things you don't need to know, but one of them is that his attacks are never a surprise. Somehow word is always leaked out before he attacks. No one knows who it is, but after the attack on Gringotts yesterday, the headmaster taking anything he hears about Black seriously, even if the Ministry refuses to do so."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And this includes scatterbrained newspaper reporters who get the facts right on accident in one out of every fifty stories?"

Remus tried to send Harry a stern look of reprimand, but it didn't quite work. "They have other reasons to believe this one, and I'm afraid I have to agree this time. I would far rather be paranoid and see you safe, than assume it's a false alarm and lose you to Voldemort or Black."

"Same thing, isn't it?" Harry muttered.

"No. Definitely not. Black doesn't work as effectively on other people's agendas. If he's the one after you, it will be for a different reason entirely."

Harry scowled, pushing his glasses up his nose. "But why would any of them want me? I'm nobody! And anyway, why do I need some kind of bodyguard? You'll be there, right? Isn't that good enough?"

Remus sighed. "I wish I could say it is, but I'm not sure I could protect you against him..." He trailed off, lost in thought.

Harry shook his head, not understanding any of this. He stood up and began pacing, frustrated. "Why?" he asked. "Really, if Black wanted me dead so badly, wouldn't he have hunted me down when he killed my parents? Why wait until now? I've always been safe with you before. I don't see why this is any different."

"Harry," Remus said sharply, immediately silencing the boy. His uncle never got angry unless he was extremely worried. It was enough to frighten Harry. He took a deep breath and continued. "Black didn't hunt you down that night, because your parents weren't the only ones who died. Black lost one of his own as well."

"Like that's ever stopped him before," Harry muttered, glancing back at the paper.

"That time it was different. It wasn't just some Death Eater. His cousin was caught in the crossfire, and if nothing else, Sirius Black is one of the most family-oriented wizards I've ever known. He wouldn't have been in any shape to hunt you down after that. But Black isn't the sort to allow a job to be left half completed, even if it did take him a decade to get it done. And if you were part of the original plan, then you're still a target. He may have been waiting for you to enter Hogwarts to make his move, because it would get you away from me."

Harry's eyes lit up. "So, he wouldn't attack me if you're there."

"I didn't say that. But I know things about him... from his days in Hogwarts. It's harder for him to slip things by me." He sighed. "Never mind, this isn't the point. You're still in danger, even if I do decide to take the position. All Black has to do is wait for a full moon, and I wouldn't be able to help you. You need someone to protect you. Someone without my... weaknesses. This isn't up for negotiation. Do you want to go to Hogwarts this year?"

"Of course!"

"Then we visit the Ministry first. That's final."

He swept through the corridors of the Riddle Manor, his footsteps echoing loudly. For once, the elegant Death Eater looked disheveled. His cloak was gone, and his long black hair spilled over his shoulders. Dirt from his evasions in Gringotts was smudged on his clothing and face.

And he was angry. For once, raw emotion flared in his normally cold, grey eyes. Fury was most easily visible, and many Death Eaters avoided him when they saw his scowl. They didn't wait to see the cold fear or confusion lingering just behind the burning anger.

Yes, he had lost his prey. He knew the punishment for that, not that he'd ever particularly cared. He wasn't afraid of pain or death. But she had gotten to him. That girl who had been so like his cousin. She might have been a dementor instead of an auror, for the painful memories her face had forced to the surface. His scowl deepened as another Death Eater finally joined him.

"The Dark Lord will kill you one of these times, you know," Lucius Malfoy drawled. "I don't know why he hasn't already with your attitude."

Sirius didn't break stride as they turned a corner. He just shot a cool look at the blonde beside him. "I'm an interesting pet," he remarked. "And he'd rather break me than kill me." He finally stopped in front of a heavy door, his eyes dark.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "He'll get tired of you eventually. The Crucius curse is only fun for so long."

"I know. And then he'll kill me. Tell Narcissa I may be late for supper. This wasn't a good day to have made plans." With that, he pulled the heavy door open and stepped into the chamber, shutting it behind him.

He'd been in here a number of times before, but the room never seemed to loose its chill. It didn't help that the man sitting at the desk at the far end of the room had set his red eyes on him. Sirius walked forward and dropped to one knee before the room's occupant. "My lord."

"Where is it?" His voice was very high, very gentle. That was usually a bad sign. It occurred to Sirius that maybe he should have skipped out of supper altogether tonight.

"I failed you, my lord."

"I see." The red eyes narrowed, but did not seem surprised. "And why would that be?"

"I make no excuses. The aurors have a morophomagus, and I was taken by surprise. There is no acceptable reason."

"Yes," Voldemort sneered. "Nymphadora Tonks. You knew that, Black. She is your cousin, after all. Why didn't you kill her."

Sirius kept his head bowed. "My duty was to obtain the contents of vault seven hundred thirteen. Not to kill aurors."

"You spared her."

The younger man looked up. "She is my cousin."

"She's the enemy, Black. She chose her fate. Would she have spared you?"

"I will not murder--" His argument was cut off by the Crucius curse, and he dropped to all fours, trying to contain a scream. He had his dignity. Voldemort could see him cry for all he cared, but he would not scream in hearing range of any Death Eaters.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and looked up defiantly at Voldemort, daring him to do it. "I will not kill her," he wheezed. "I failed. Punish me for it, I will not regret sparing her."

The second Crucius curse hurt worse than the first. His arms gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, his breath coming in short, painful bursts. This is what Nymphadora had felt. He wasn't sure if he'd have done it if he'd immediately recognized her. He probably would have. Perhaps he'd have even killed her. But that wasn't the point. If he did it, he would do it, not for the Dark Lord, but for himself.

The third blast of the curse almost cut off his breathing entirely, and a small moan did finally escape him.

"I should kill you Black. Give me a reason not to kill you."

Sirius coughed to clear his throat and felt blood. His voice was barely audible. "Because you can still use me."

"Not good enough, Black," Voldemort growled. "A tool is only useful as long as it works. You're like a broken wand. As likely to backfire on its user as it is to do its job."

Sirius coughed again, and wiped his gloved hand over his mouth. It came away scarlet. Slowly, he forced his shaky, weakened arms to push him up. His cold grey eyes focused on the Dark Lord's amused red ones. "But even a broken wand has its uses," he whispered. "If I work, I'm useful. If I backfire, you can kill me. So far I've either worked, failed or refused, but I haven't backfired..." He took a deep breath, and pushed himself to his knees, and then to his feet, although at that point, he had to use a nearby table for support.

Voldemort's cold laughter rang through the room, chilling Sirius. "Interesting, you'll live today. But keep in mind, if you ever backfire, I won't kill you. I'll feed you to the dementors. How well do you value your soul, Black? Think on that." He turned his back on the proud Death Eater. "Leave. I will contact you later."

Sirius managed a stiff bow, and slowly forced himself into a relatively natural pace, using most of his reserves. He was going to feel like hell later. He swept back through the halls to an exit where he could apparate, his mind replaying Voldemort's last words to him. "How well do I value my soul?" Sirius snorted, forcing him to cough again. He staggered on that step, and barely caught himself on the wall. "How well do I value it? I gave that up a long time ago."