Last Mistake

Chapter two - Perplexing Affairs

Sirius Black awoke with a start. Beads of sweat drenched his head, marking his face with watery trails. Pushing the none-too-soft sheets off his body, he fumbled blindly in the dark for the bathroom. For a moment, he thought that he was at Remus' house, but he quickly scolded himself for forgetting that he hadn't seen Remus since... that day. After several minutes of self-injury caused by crashing into hard objects, he found the light switch, illuminating the shabby mess of a room he stayed in.

Squinting at the emergence of the bright light, he dragged his worn carcass to the sink. Before the mirror stood a man with disheveled and unkempt features. Under his eyes, the dropsically dark semicircles gave the impression that he was not acquainted with the concept of sleep. It was a common spectacle that he paid no mind to, even as it greets him all hours of the night. Nights where he couldn't stop the workings of his mind. Night where he had no control over the nightmares that plague him.

A cold shower was what he gave himself at three a.m. in the morning. No matter how utterly exhausted he felt; he knew he wouldn't be able to return to sleep without being thrown from it an hour later. There was really no point in punishing himself further.

For a brief moment, his eyes slid shut from sheer enervation and fatigue. In those few short seconds, the images that were displayed to him, like the showing of a film, persistently filled his head. There was nothing he could do but watch and bask at the remembrance it provided. The remembrance of the sole reason for his current horrid state.

He was frustrated for it. He was angry for it. He was in pain for it, but that, he would never admit to himself. Those flicks of images serve as nothing but reminders of harsh times. Times that he needn't be reminded of.

Thirty minutes later, he left his room with nothing more than the rugged clothes on his back. Below the rental floor was a pub much like the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley. At the bar came the snores of the pub owner, sound asleep with his head on the table. Sirius walked over to the owner, stuffing a few sickels into the unmoving hand. Silently, he wandered into the early morning, wanting nothing more than to clear the lingering thoughts in his head.

----------

A cold draft slithered through his body and the throbbing pain he felt slowly left him and it was replaced by a numbingly cold sensation. As if gaining a sudden awareness, his first thought was that he was very, very cold. He felt like a block of ice, literally, and like one that would never melt. Not a second later, his other senses resurfaced from its dormant state. He saw black. Panic claimed him. Taking a forced deep breath, he calmed down slightly. There must be a reasonable explanation for his temporary blindness. Yes, temporary. He dare not think of it as a permanent arrangement.

Think. Think. Think.

Then it hit him. Why hasn't he thought of that before?

With more effort than he anticipated, he opened his eyes and the darkness dissolved. For a moment, all he seemed to be able to do was stare at the sky above him. Apparently, he was lying down, but he didn't want to move. This was because of two reasons.

One, he couldn't feel the ground beneath his body.

Two, he couldn't feel his body. At all

That was not good.

It wasn't an option to stay lying there, wherever he was. He knew that. So, as cold and as numb as he felt, he pushed himself to concentrate on regaining feelings to his limbs. Slowly and (he grudgingly had to admit) clumsily, he got to his feet. A dazed Harry cautiously glanced around his immediate vicinity. The sudden recovery of his hearing was an added burden to his bewilderment and to the headache that was now forming.

He finally recognized the fact that he was standing in the middle of the road. Before the sight even reached his eyes, the loud screech caused him to jump aside when a truck rushed passed, almost hitting him in the process. Trying to calm his hammering heart, he sauntered to the sidewalk of the apparent muggle street.

Where was he?

He looked around, noting that it was nighttime and not many people were walking about. Deciding that staying put would do nothing to abet his stressful situation, he started down the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of some familiar sight or building. Oddly enough, he found it hard to exert any effort at physical movement when he wasn't in danger of being attacked by cars. There was no time to comprehend it all when a warm draft sliced through him, followed by a loud gasp that was certainly not his own.

Turning around, he saw a lady clutching her sweater closer to her body, a look of uncertainty on her face. Harry wasn't sure what happened, but he meant to apologize if he had bumped into her. Wait a second! If it were anyone bumping into anyone, it wouldn't be him. He hasn't moved an inch from where he stood. Another second passed and he felt that jab of warmth again. This time, it was starting to feel nauseating.

'What in the world was going on?'

He turned around once again, this time a man was behind him. He had a similar expression on his face as the lady did. Quickly, as if slightly disturbed, the man left with a purposeful hurry.

With one eyebrow raised in confusion, he dropped the subject for now to resume his search. He stopped abruptly when a thought popped into his head. There was one thing he should've tried. Apparating. Gathering the energy he needed, he thought of his destination and he was off... only it didn't work. He is still standing where he was a second ago. Waving it off with the reason that it was his lack of concentration, he gave it another try.

Nothing.

He was still there.

A frustrated grunt escaped his lips and he raped his mind for an adequate explanation.

None came to mind.

It was still dark and he continued walking for the lack of a better choice. Rubbing his eyes to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, Harry halted at the sight of a familiar pub. A spark of joy sped through him as he was about to cross the street, but he quickly put a stop to that.

Instead, he went around a corner, a feeling of being followed awoke his cautious nerves. Immediately, he reached for his wand, only to find that it was missing. That was suspicious. He never forgets his wand, no matter where he went. After taking a peer at the sidewalk that he was on and finding no one in return, he decided to revert back to his previous objective.

The door opened and a shady looking wizard stepped out and Harry slipped in easily. The pub no longer had the homey atmosphere it did during the day. At the bar, he spotted the innkeeper, Tom, serving a late night drinker. There were a few drinking and whispering at the tables, each minding their own business. No one paid attention to his entrance. Then again, why would they? He was old enough to go anywhere and hardly anyone would be able to recognize him in the dim light of the pub.

Now that he knew where he was, he wasn't sure what to do. The first thing he noticed after escaping a near collusion with the large vehicle was that he had absolutely nothing with him. Ever since he 'woke up', he had a strange feeling. Something was different, but he didn't know what. For some unknown reason, there was also a heavy weight settling on his chest. At his blankness of memory, he had an uncanny suspicion that it was not due to an accident. Something had gone on. He was sure of it. Something big. The problem was that he could not remember what.

Maybe a night's sleep could refresh his memory. With that in mind, he walked over to the bar, ready to approach Tom. He was stopped in his tracks at the knowledge that he had no money with him. Gringotts is positively closed at this time. However, he knew Tom wouldn't mind renting him a room that he couldn't pay for until the morning. Harry waited until Tom was finished with a customer before stepping forward to ask for a room.

Minutes later, he called out a bit louder, annoyed that Tom still hadn't noticed his presence.

"Excuse me! Is there a room I can get for the night?"

After such a strange evening, his mood was down in the drains. He was growing angry at being ignored. All he wanted was a room and it seems that he's having trouble with that as well. Distractedly, a voice cut into his thoughts. He hadn't heard what the voice said. As if on cue, the owner of the voice reiterated her words.

"He won't hear you."

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Dondres Elenbrn watched as his team of Aurors examined the crime scene. He waited near the area that had been shielded off by magic, where only professional examiners are allowed in.

"Don. I figure we'd meet again. Only not so soon."

Dondres turned in the direction of the voice and greeted the middle-age man with a lazy nod. He was never in a very 'cheerful' mood as his mate is usually in during working hours. Unfortunately, his mate is also the department's head investigator. Being one of the top-field leading Auror (and one of the youngest one at that), he was nearly present at all the major crime scenes. Same goes for his friend, Leward Kensin, who was following up on the same case that he was.

"So, what did the 'Mysterious Vigilante' do this time?" Leward began his standard questioning.

"I think after so many times of us meeting like this, you can at least be direct," said Dondres, moodily.

"That's why I hate working with you-" Leward started.

"Just ask me the damn questions, Kensin!" Dondres snapped.

"Alright, no need to burst a vein," Leward muttered. Dondres glared halfheartedly. Leward sighed as he took out his quill and parchment.

"Throat or heart?"

"Heart."

"Signs of struggle?"

"None."

"The wounds?"

"Fresh. Probably no less than an hour or two before we arrived."

"Any messages left behind?"

"No."

"Name of victim?"

"Malfoy."

"The one on the run?"

"No, the father. Lucius."

"I want to see him," said Leward, with a sudden sparkle of interest.

"The examiners are checking for any magical and internal injuries right now. You'll have to wait till they're done." Then raising his eyebrow, Dondres asked, "Why?"

"Why what?" asked Leward, innocently.

"Don't even try that on me, Lee. You're a terrible liar, you know that?" he said, tonelessly.

"I'm appalled that you think that!"

"You're not going to distract me. The normal procedure is that we send you the pictures, not giving you a visit of the body. Besides, I thought you had a problem seeing dead bodies face to face."

"I do not! Either way, your job is to assist me, not question me. I'm not head investigator for nothing."

"Alright fine. Suit yourself," Dondres submitted.

Just then, the examiners came out, handing Leward their findings in a report and left with curt nods.

"You might want to refrain from breathing once we go in," Dondres warned as he entered through the magical shield.

"Why-"

Leward was pulled in by the arm and he immediately shut his mouth...and nose when a foul scent invaded his senses. Leward followed the young Auror forward and became envious that the smell and atmosphere seemed to have no effect on Dondres. While on the other hand, he felt sick just being there. Dondres turned around to face Leward whose face looked pale.

"Are you sure you want to do this? This one is a bit different than the others," said Dondres.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a more gruesome killing than the previous ones," he said, bluntly.

"All the more reason for me to investigate up close," Leward reasoned, to Dondres... and to himself.

Dondres took one look at his friend and shook his head disapprovingly. 'He hasn't even seen it and he's already pale.'

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he said. Then he moved out of Leward's view to reveal the wreaked body of the former Death Eater.

It was indeed a gruesome and grotesque sight. The once devious looking face of Lucius Malfoy was now replaced by one of shock and absolute disbelief. Trails of red stains were all over his robe and they ran down to his hands and feet.

However, the worst of all was at the chest area. A clear view of the punctured heart was displayed where there should have been the layers of skin, muscle, and bone. It was like someone had drilled a large hole before stabbing the heart with a sharp dagger.

Dondres watched as his friend's face slowly turned into a greenish color. He looked like he was about to regurgitate everything he ate that morning.

"Y-you're right. I should've listened to you."

----------

"He won't hear you."

Harry turned sharply at the voice and found himself staring at a pair of dark sea-blue eyes. A moment was all it took for those eyes to absorb all his attention. When Harry finally registered what she said, he blinked and looked away.

"What?"

"He can't hear someone that doesn't exist."

Harry suddenly looked around. It was late and everyone in the pub spoke in quiet whispers so as to avoid eavesdroppers from catching the contents of their conversations. He thought it odd that the volume in which she spoke with attracted no attention from the populace of the pub. Hastily, when the words finally sank in, another weight dropped onto his scale of confusion.

"W-what did you say?" asked Harry, feeling unsure now of what he'd heard.

The young woman who looked about his age seemed completely out of place in the pub, but she also blended perfectly. Harry shook his head; he didn't know what he was thinking anymore. How can someone blend in and look out of place at the same time?

While he was pondering the situation, two drinks appeared on the table that she sat on. Seizing the small glass, she drowned the liquid in one swift swig. She then looked at Harry questioningly before offering the other drink to him. Harry finally sat down across from her, but he did not take the drink.

"You haven't answer my question," he pointed out more confidently this time.

"I find that it's a waste of breath to repeat something you obviously heard," she replied. "Have a drink and maybe we'll talk."

Harry eyed her suspiciously.

"Or are you the type that can't hold their liquor?" she challenged.

Mentally thinking over his options, Harry decided that he didn't have much to lose... except for his life, he thought. However, as little as he knew about the person before him, he had an inkling feeling that her intention was not to poison him. With a manner identical to the mysterious stranger, he was about to let the liquid burn down his throat but a hand shot out and stopped his movement.

"Not this one," she said, taking the glass away from his hand. "That one."

Harry turn to look in the direction where he assumed she was looking at. It landed on a bottle of whiskey sitting on a table, held by a large, porky man. Harry turn back to the woman in front of him with an incredulous expression.

"I hope you aren't suggesting that I steal that man's whiskey," Harry stated bluntly.

"Oh, I doubt the possibility of that happening," she said, smugly.

"Why should I even play your stupid game?" asked Harry.

His frustration at the events of the day was piling up. He felt confused, tired, angry, empty, and depressed. And the most frustrating part of all this is that he didn't even know why!

The young woman face remained nonchalant at his question. She then looked him directly in the eye.

"Maybe because I know something that you want to know," she said, coolly.

Now he was curious. How could someone know something that he wants to know when he didn't even know what he wants to know? Blimey, this woman was confusing him to no end.

While he was contemplating whether to do what she says or not, the young woman had this stony expression on her face. Her eyes were unmoving, like the eyes of a blind person. But all of that had gone unnoticed when she returned to her previous demeanor at Harry's submission.

"Fine."

Surprisingly, Harry walked over to the porky looking wizard and reached for the whiskey in the beefy hand. He expected to be yelled at or even get jinxed but none of that happened. He blinked in confusion. A string of curses escaped his mouth when he laid eyes on his arm. The porky wizard didn't even notice. His arm was struck through the bottle of whiskey and the table. Suddenly, he wanted to faint. He had never felt so... transparent and hollow.

"Hey!"

The voice seems to knock him back to reality and he jerkily pulled his arm back.

"What the-"

Harry fell down onto a chair that appeared out of nowhere, stunned. A wave of dizziness began attacking his head and the image before him became unfocused and blurred. He fought weakly against the losing battle and watched as darkness slowly claimed him.