I was intrigued by a dark Harry and I wanted to write my own dimension traveling fic since i have read so many but liked so few. So I decided to write my own with unique twists. Updates won't be regular, due to upcoming college-I write when I feel like it. *** updated this chapter with a revised one. No plot changing tweaks, just some grammar stuff!**
After suffering the graveyard, Harry is once again sent back to his relatives for his summer before Fifth Year where the wards are supposed to keep him safe from the outside world which continues to grow more and more violent. Meanwhile, Voldemort's lust for power expands unimaginably and instead of one world to own, he wants both. Joining forces with a parallel Voldemort who has never fallen and whose power has climaxed, they work together to become an unstoppable force. But there is one mere fourteen-year-old boy standing in the way of this ultimate victory.
Transported into a parallel dimension, Harry finds himself in the shadow of a evil growing force. Amidst old and new faces and the chance for a family that he has never had, Harry must come to the terms that although there are two worlds, there can only be one hero.
Dawn broke the cold night with a haze of pearl gray. The earth laid still and silent in the early hours and the sun remained hidden behind morning clouds of pewter. With the dawn came a fog of heavy white mist that laced the ground like a serpent, swift and silent. It obscured the pristine neighborhood of Privet Drive until it was only a smear of shapes in the grayness. The tiny black sparrows didn't flit around as usual with their songs of a breaking dawn but remained with puffed feathers on their branches for the summer morning was oddly chilly and the grass was powdered with white frost.
While the rest of the neighborhood slept on unaware, a scrawny fourteen-year-old boy shuddered awake from a gripping nightmare with white-knuckled fists clutching at the bedsheets. He raised his face, red and sweaty, from a crusted brown pillow that smelled severely of metallic. For a moment, he didn't know where he was and what had happened. He hesitantly touched his fingers to the skin under his nose; the tips came away flecked with dried blood.
Harry quietly groaned as the previous events of last night came back to him in horrible remembrance. He dropped his head back onto the stained pillow, breathing heavily, the echo of his heart beat pounding in his ears. His whole body quivered as he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, with his memories replaying over and over again in the forefront of his mind. It had been many, many years since his uncle had resorted to such physical violence. Even since Harry first started Hogwarts, his uncle had backed off in fear of Harry's magic and what others of the magical world would do if he were found out, so Harry hadn't expected the overweight man to come at him with such force.
Calm down, you idiot, you just need to calm down. No use getting worked up. Panic will just make it worse.
Slowly, gingerly, Harry rose to a sitting position and gritted his teeth when his side pulled rather painfully at the movement. Bracing himself with one elbow, Harry carefully pulled the worn plaid leg of his pajama pants till it displayed his swollen knee. For a moment, Harry just stared at the joint in disbelief, unsure of what to do. The skin was black, blue and purple. Gingerly, he touched it and winced at the flash of pain that it brought.
There was no way he was going anywhere on this thing.
Harry carefully laid himself back down, head on his ruined pillow, unable to straighten his knee. He ignored the rest of his injuries, not really wanting to know why his side burned with pain and felt hot and sticky. In this moment, he felt that the less he knew, the better it would all pan out. It was stupid logic, but it was the only logic he could muster up in this moment.
The world spun slowly around him despite the fact he was holding himself very still. It brought back the time when he had ridden a carousel at a fair as a child. He had sat on a brown horse, hands clenching the cool metal pole with sweaty six-year-old hands that kept slipping from the cool metal pool. Round and round and round it went. The slow rotation held an almost surreal quality to it as he went round…and round…and round…. He remembered that his vomit had been yellow, like the color of the lemon pop he had licked earlier that day and he remembered the nearby children screaming in disgust as the vomit spread like a growing flower on the metal deck and dripped over the side, dotting the sidewalk with putrid yellow pearls.
Harry had never been that fond of the color yellow since.
He closed his eyes slowly, feeling that familiar nausea creep almost stealthily into his stomach where the meager contents began to roil in protest. Even in the gray-darkness, the world seemed to gyrate. The bed beneath him swayed and lurched and he felt as though he had been forced unwillingly onto the deck of a ship caught in a bout of storm. Harry couldn't help but groan, wishing he had a cool glass of water to sip or even one of Pomphrey's nasty potions to calm his stomach.
Harry might have fallen asleep, he wasn't really sure but the next moment he suddenly heard a soft hooting noise. Harry was jolted from his dazed state and it took him a moment to realize that a black owl hovering outside his barred window, looking very indignant. For a moment Harry wondered if it would be worth the effort and pain of getting up and moving towards the window to reach through the bars. The screeching of the owl quickly made up his mind.
"Shut-it, you bloody bird!" Harry snapped in a hissed whisper, his eyes darting towards the door, expecting to see his purple-faced uncle to come barging in, angry to be woken up by his nephew's freakishness. Gingerly, Harry pulled himself across the bed, his knee protesting quite painfully. The owl watched him impassively as he pushed up the window frame and reached for the letter between the rusted bars. He was curious for he didn't recognize the owl as belonging to anyone he knew. It nipped at his fingers as he grasped the parchment, a lurch of hope jumping within his chest. Maybe it was from Sirius. He dearly wished it was from Sirius. Since Hedwig had gone hunting, Harry had no way of contacting the outside world until she returned. Now he would be able to send out a vague letter of distress, and maybe, just maybe, Sirius would come to rescue him from this hell hole.
Fumbling awkwardly with the envelope marked Harry J. Potter, which he should've noted as strange but didn't, he pulled out the parchment stuffed inside. Something small fell out and landed next to his propped up elbow but he ignored it as he watched with a horrified expression as the black owl gave another hoot and flew away, not even giving him a chance to respond back.
"Damn!" he muttered, fists clenched and face splotched with red. "Damn, damn, damn!"
The owl became a speck in the cloudy sky, than nothing at all, leaving Harry with a sinking stomach and prickling eyes. He didn't know what to do and he loathed the out-of-control feeling he was caught in.
Calm, calm, calm, calm. He silently coached himself, breathing deeply in order to slow his pounding heart. He forced himself to look down at the object which had fallen from the envelope and he lifted it with a furrowed brow, studying the intricate carvings on the rather rustic looking beads. The bracelet looked well-worn and somewhat brittle. The colors varied from black, navy blue, and twilight purple, reminding him rather distantly of the colors of fresh bruise. He handled it carefully; afraid of breaking something that looked so important.
"What are you?" he mused quietly, rolling the beads around with his fingertips. Who would've sent him such a confusing gift? He had no need of bracelets; he couldn't remember ever wearing any kind of jewelry in his life. Even though the bracelet was rather pretty and unique, it looked as though it was meant more for a girl than a boy. And there was no way Harry Potter would be caught wearing girly jewelry.
Maybe it was a prank, something to just poke fun at him. Ron? Fred and George? Definitely not Hermione. Maybe Sirius?
Harry turned his attention to the letter, hoping to solve the mystery. His face drained of color as he read the words and he felt his blood run cold.
A violent, forceful tug at his navel and Harry Potter disappeared in a whirl of smearing colors and shapes. He didn't have time to comprehend what had happened except the fact that it couldn't be good. He fell and fell and fell, hurtling through space and time at breakneck speed. It could've been years, it could've been seconds but Harry had lost all sense of time, and meaning fell quickly through the seams of his mind leaving him only panic and wild fear.
Back in Harry's little room, where the walls were ugly gray and the bars on the window gave the effect of a prison cell, the letter he had been holding fluttered harmlessly in the breeze that wafted through the window before settling inconspicuously on the bedroom floor.
No one stirred.
**Canon Remus, Canon World***
Many hours later a group of strangely dressed people landed quietly on the pristine lawn of number 4 Privet Drive. The house was dark and quiet when they opened the door. Remus stepped cautiously over the threshold and ignited the tip of his wand with a deft flick, blinking quickly as he let his eyes adjust to the sudden white light flooding the hall. He took a moment to study his surroundings, noting that everything was immaculate and not even a frame was off-tilt. He walked deeper into the house, passing a cupboard with rusted brown bolts but not really paying any second heed to it.
Too clean. He thought, wrinkling his nose as he turned a slow full circle, letting his wand light give him a three-sixty view of the Dursleys' house hold.
"Anything, Moody?" Nymphadora whispered behind Remus, igniting her wand as well.
"Nothing. Not even the boy." The man answered gruffly, his stumped leg creating a dull echo each time it hit the linoleum. Remus turned and saw the electric blue eye spinning rather sickeningly in its socket. He furrowed his brow in thought.
"He must be here," Remus murmured. "The guard said that Harry didn't leave the house with his relatives." He headed for the staircase, ignoring the cupboard again. The advance guard followed him silently; the only sound heard was the creaking of the steps with each footfall that was made.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Remus just knew that the door with the chained and bolted locks was Harry's. A flicker of dread passed through him.
"Those prats!" Nymphadora spat, her hair turning a violent shade of blood red; she must have come to the same conclusion as well.
Alastair pointed his wand at the door, "Alohamora."
The locks jumped instantly apart and the door slowly, almost ominously opened. For a moment no one moved, poised for anything to happen. Finally, after waiting several minutes in tense silence, Remus stepped forward and reached his wand light into the room.
"Harry?" he called clearly, keeping his tone level and calm. "Harry, it's Professor Lupin. We've come to take you away."
No answer. Pushing the door open all the way, Remus entered the room.
"Careful, Lupin, it could be a trap," Alastair said warningly. But Remus wasn't listening. Instead he was staring in horror at the pillow hanging halfway off the bed, splattered grotesquely with dried blood. He saw, with a blanching face, that the bed and the carpet around it were stained also. By the looks of it, the blood had been there for many hours, already brown and cracked. It was like walking in on a scene from a muggle horror film.
Simultaneously, groans and sounds of frustration filled the room as each of the guard noted what Remus was staring fixedly at.
"Oh hell," Nymphadora whispered in revulsion.
Remus could feel his heart pounding furiously in his chest and there was hot sweat beading his face and neck as adrenaline shot through his veins like bubbling acid and he swallowed once, twice, three times. His fingers clenched his wand convulsively, his eyes darting for a target to unleash the fury racking his body.
"No." he ground out forcefully. He hadn't known the boy very well but in the short span of time that Remus had spent with him, Remus had grown attached to Harry with the eyes as green as jewels and the weight of the world on his too-thin of shoulders. He didn't see the boy as a replica of James as Severus and Sirius had so many times fallen guilty of, but as his own cub that needed security and protection. If Remus disagreed with Dumbledore about anything, it would be sending Harry here to Lily's sister and brother-in-law. He didn't know if the wards had fallen or if Harry's relatives had gotten violent but as Remus stared at the sight before, he couldn't conjure up a good ending. How could he with this bloody mess?
He could only pray desperately, vainly that whoever had the poor child would be shown some sort of mercy. He knew, though, that Voldemort had none.
Remus slowly lifted the crimson and brown stained pillow and clutched with his fist, his eyes burning. He drew in a deep breath, smelling the metallic twang of the room and feeling the pain and fear the boy must have felt.
"Remus?" a hand on his shaking shoulders brought him back from a place where time knew nothing and grief knew everything. He turned and glared at Nymphadora whose face was white and lip was trembling. "We have to get back to headquarters. We have to notify Dumbledore. There might be a chance…maybe Snape has heard something…"
No one said a word but the feeling of failure and shame pierced the air. Remus rage swelled and became animalistic. Wasn't somebody supposed to be watching the house at all times? Wasn't somebody supposed to ensure that Harry stayed safe and secure? But Harry had obviously suffered. To what extinct, Remus didn't know, but no one had been there to help the child. No one. He savagely kicked over the desk chair, finding no satisfaction in the way it clattered to the floor.
Remus nodded, still holding the pillow tightly as he returned with deadened legs to the apparation spot and turned, disappearing with a resounding crack, leaving Privet Drive silent and peaceful once more.
**Canon Sirius, Canon World***
Sirius was on his feet in a flash when he heard the opening and closing of the front door, heart pounding with the excitement at the prospect of seeing his godson. Molly and Albus stood up as well but the rest at the meeting stayed seated. Snivellus rolled his eyes and sneered but Sirius didn't care this time. It had been too long since he had been face-to-face with his godson. The last time they had spoken in person was at the end of the third task and Sirius still felt guilty for leaving Harry in such a state.
What he didn't expect was the quiet procession to file into the room. He stared with incomprehension at their darkened, guilty faces. Tonks slumped into an empty chair, arms, crossed over her chest; her eyes were staring blankly at the opposite wall. Snape stood quickly, his sneer gone but his face darker. It seemed as though the greasy git understood something that Sirius had yet to fully grasp. For a moment, Sirius couldn't breathe as he tried to piece together the situation before him. Then:
"Where's Harry, then?" he demanded, his fear coming out as anger. "Didn't you go and get him?"
Snape turned to look at him, his face a dark mask and his fists clenched. Behind him, he could hear Molly breathing in hitches.
Remus stepped forward, drew a deep breath, and slowly held something out for Sirius to take, which he did in dread apprehension. It was a pillow—stiff, flat, and splattered in rust colored splotches.
"Remus?" Sirius asked in desperation. "Wha-what's this?"
But he knew what it was. He knew what it meant. He could see the violence, the desperation and the pain and the fear in the small pillow. As he sank back into his chair, he barely heard Moody speak in his gruff tones.
"We didn't find a body."
Snape, too, dropped back into his chair, his body strangely deflated. Behind Sirius, Molly began to wail.
Albus didn't move and the only sound was Molly's keening. Sirius, himself, remained silent, feeling numb and detached as he watched the only light left in his darkness go out.
Sirius Black struggled to catch his breath as he ran, with the chilled wind whipping his hair, and the adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins. Purple twilight was quickly giving way to darkness and the sky was cloudy, smothering the stars and the glow of the moon. The fog was thick and heavy. It filled every street, every alley, every nook and cranny until the air was so dense, the animagus could barely see. Sweat poured down his back and face but Sirius couldn't help but grin somewhat manically as he pressed his back to a stone wall, pausing before peering around the corner. His tee-shirt clung to him in a mixture of blood, sweat, and the night's beady moisture. He had abandoned his red Auror robe twenty minutes ago for the favor of greater mobility. Despite the circumstances, they were winning easily, with only a few minor injuries on the Order's side. Sirius swiped at a thin trickle of blood slithering down his cheek, but other than that he remained relatively uninjured.
"How many, Sirius?" he heard Harry whisper, suddenly next to him, causing the man to start.
"Damn, Harry! I almost hexed you!" Sirius seethed, willing his heart to calm at the sight Harry staring in amusement at him.
His godson leaned casually against the wall next to him, sweat beading his tanned face. A slug of blood oozed between his eyes, following the path of his tear ducts and clinging to his jaw line.
"You okay?" Sirius gestured towards the nasty cut. Harry swiped at the blood with a smirk and a shrug.
"Doesn't hurt. Don't even know how I got it." The boy's eyes flashed and he twirled his wand between his fingertips. "Exhilarating, isn't it?" his eyes seemed to deepen in color and he quirked an eyebrow.
Sirius shook his head at Harry, "You always creep me out when you look like that," he said only half-joking.
Harry's smirk grew more prominent. "I know." The young man pushed himself off the wall and charged around the corner. The dark fog lit up with the brilliant blue of a hex.
Sirius was quick to join him, bellowing out a stunning curse to the first Death Eater that came into sight. The man fell in a crumpled heap and Sirius leapt over the fallen body, not breaking stride. He fought alongside Harry, heart pumping and muscles straining in exertion.
But Harry seemed all at ease. The nineteen-year-old boy was in his element, dodging curses, shooting spells wordlessly, and holding up a vibrantly red shield effortlessly.
Sirius suddenly grinned as he thought back to Harry's question.
"Twelve! To answer your question from earlier!" Sirius crowed in the high of the fight, wielding his wand at the level of his eyes, sending another stunning curse towards a Death Eater attempting to crucio him. "Make that thirteen!" he corrected with a holler as the man in black robes hit the ground motionless, his wand skittering along the cobblestone. Sirius snapped it with the heel of his boot.
He could see his godson's smirk from where he was. That boy had been hanging around Snape too often. "Count me at twenty!" he bragged rather loudly.
Sirius nearly broke stride, "That's because I let you have all the easy ones!" Sirius retorted as Harry's wand spewed a jet of vomit-yellow light. The man on the receiving end of that spell howled in agony and feel to the ground, writhing and clawing at his face where nasty boils had erupted.
Harry rolled his eyes, kicking the man in his side and binding him. "Whatever strokes your ego, Sirius."
"You two are ridiculous!" Tonks yelled at them as she spun past, taking down two death eaters in her wake. Her hair was a vibrant multitude of colors, like that of a rainbow. The sight was shocking at first glance and Sirius was sure that his cousin did that just to throw Voldemort's followers off a step.
The young woman appeared unharmed, having caught up with them in an array of dramatic wand sparks. That girl always knew how to make an entrance.
Sirius snickered rather breathlessly as he began to run again, sprinting down the street for Harry and Tonks were already way ahead of him. The night around him lit up like fireworks but Sirius didn't once flinch from the blinding colors and loud booms. It all felt like second nature to him. He continued to battle, concentrating hard to pick out friend from foe in the heavy mist.
Out of nowhere, something slammed into his back and he found himself pitching forward with a yelp, elbows scraping cobblestone rather painfully. A jet of purple light hit an area near his face, blackening the stone, and he twisted quickly onto his back, hexing the Death Eater standing over him into oblivion. The hooded man was blasted backwards and he slammed into the side of a stone building before slumping lifelessly to the cold ground.
Sirius rolled quickly back onto his elbows, panting from the shock of adrenaline that had just hit him and desperate to not be left behind when something in his peripheral vision made him freeze.
A blood stained hand was just barely visible behind a stack of toppled crates and spilled seed. Sirius scrambled to his feet, sprinting the few feet between him and the hand, desperately hoping he would find a body attached to the appendage.
It was a boy facing away from him, his thin body wracked with tremors. The visible shock of jet black hair made Sirius' heart leap in terror for his throat.
"Holy shit, Harry!" he fell to his knees, panic making his hands shake and he roughly turned the boy over, shocked to find someone much younger than his godson looking back at him. "You're…you're not Harry…"
But it was…but it wasn't…
Wide-eyed, Sirius blinked rapidly, unable to process this information. He quickly surveyed his surroundings, noting the trail of blood and figuring the boy had dragged himself a good ways before being unable to continue.
Sirius looked back down at the boy who was only half-conscious with just a slit of emerald showing beneath his partially eyelids. Dried blood stained the boy's chin and neck and clothes. His leg was twisted in a sickening way at the knee and his face supported two black eyes and a swollen nose.
Had the Death Eaters done this? Was it a twisted trick to play with his mind? Idiot! His brain screamed at him. Who cares what the damned kid looks like! He's injured for Christ's sake!
Sirius stood, heart pounding, unsure of what to do. The boy couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen but he held a disturbingly uncanny resemblance to Harry Potter. The pit of his stomach roiled in turmoil.
Who was this boy?
For a few moments, Sirius didn't do anything. Fear and uneasiness pinned him to the ground, preventing him from moving but not allowing him to kneel down in assistance to the wounded kid. He didn't even touch the boy for fear it was a morbid trick. Sirius took a step back, inwardly struggling. It was against his morals to leave an injured kid to the mercies of Death Eaters but the resemblance to Harry and James was extremely disconcerting.
Suddenly, the boy stirred. He blinked slowly before grimacing.
"Please…" the pitiful whimper made Sirius freeze once more, stunned to see a pair of startling green eyes staring up at him pleadingly, glassy with pain. "Help…"
Sirius couldn't ignore such a wretched plea. He watched the boy convulse once in apparent agony and the two emeralds rolled back again. Sirius made up his mind then and there.
"Okay, kid," he muttered, pocketing his wand and scooping the boy up in his arms. He was answered with a horrible cry of pain as the injured leg was jolted. Sirius' face contorted in a grimace. "Hang on, kid, you're gonna be fine."
Running as fast as he could with the skinny kid in his arms, he slipped down the streets as silent as he could, eyes very wide as he tried to keep bearing of his surroundings. He didn't get far, though, when a blasting hex grazed his side, causing him to stumble then fall, losing his grip on the boy who hit the pavement beside him with a sickening smack! The following shriek of pain grated Sirius' already raw nerves.
The Auror leapt to his feet, yanking out his wand. A cutting hex caught his shoulder and blood spurted out, and he hissed with pain, eyes watering, while quickly retaliating. With the Death Eater out, Sirius turned his attention back to the kid who was now on his elbows, looking around haphazardly. Fear was quite evident on his bloody face. He looked as though he was trying to escape but wasn't getting very far with it. He caught sight of Sirius and made a strange noise. It was then that Sirius noticed that the kid was clutching a pair of broken glasses.
"You want me to fix those?" Sirius asked awkwardly. The boy grunted, seemingly not able to form words. With the noise came a cord of blood that fell from the boy's mouth. He coughed thickly and more blood followed. Sirius felt a twinge of panic and disgust. He definitely knew that wasn't good but he didn't want to cause the boy more a panic by saying something stupid.
Sirius quickly fixed the shattered glasses and wiped away the blood and grime. When he pushed them onto the boy's face, he was again hit by the disturbing resemblance of his godson and best friend. Just leave it, Sirius. Think about that later.
"You're okay kid," Sirius said in a pathetic attempt to soothe the kid, dropping down, trying to access the injuries. The boy's head dropped back down to the cobblestone street, eyelids drooping. Sirius, though he had little medical training, knew that it wasn't a good idea for the kid to go unconscious. He tapped the boy's cheek hurriedly to get his attention. "No you don't."
The boy's eyes fluttered quickly before settling emeralds on Sirius' worried face. Sirius pulled off his shirt with a quick tug, wet it with an augumenti spell, and began to wipe away some of the blood, hoping to find the faucet of it all.
"Hey kid, can you tell me your name?" Sirius asked, hoping to keep the boy awake with conversation.
"Dunno…" was the only thing he received. The boy's head lolled to one shoulder, eyes distant.
"You with me?" Sirius asked as he prodded the swollen nose gently, finding that it was only bruised and not broken.
"Not really," came the breathless reply, quickly followed but a bubble of blood at the corner of his lips.
Sirius forced himself to remain calm and not lose his meal. "That's good, kid. You'll feel less pain in this state."
The boy huffed out a faint, humorless laugh.
"Is there any place you're hurting? Like any pain worse than everything else?"
The boy nodded drunkenly, his eyes rolling back once, twice, before focusing once more. "Leg. Side." Another bubble of blood followed as he spoke.
Sirius eyed the twisted joint, too afraid to touch it lest he caused even more damage. "There's not much I can do for you knee…it's pretty bad off, I think. You said you side?"
No answer. Only heavy, strangled breathing. Sirius looked up and saw that he was beginning to lose the boy again to the realm of pain.
"Hang on, kid," Sirius swallowed hard, feeling almost useless as he tugged up the side of the boy's shirt where it was almost black with blood and he saw the gaping, ugly gash cutting deeply into the boy's side, right at the bottom of his rib cage. In places, Sirius thought he could even see the white of bone. "Oh god…oh shit…" Sirius couldn't hold himself back any longer. He pressed his fingers into the side of the boy's neck and felt a thready, weak pulse. "I gotta get you out of here."
As soon as he had said this, a hideous flash of green lit up the night. He instinctively threw his body over the bleeding boy. The curse flew over his head, ruffling his hair and making his neck prickle in a thrill of fear. It struck a nearby rubbish bin, causing it to explode into bits of plastic. One stray piece struck Sirius above the eye and his neck snapped back. Darkness rushed to greet him.
**Canon Harry, AU world**
It was so hard to breathe. It hurt too much to breathe.
Harry tried to draw in air, to compensate his screaming lungs, only to be met with a rush of blinding pain. Liquid flooded his throat and he gurgled in an attempt to clear his throat and breathe. There was no way he was going to survive this. The pain was too much and he just couldn't breathe. And even he knew that a human needed oxygen to live.
The back of his eyelids briefly glowed green and moment later he heard a grunt of pain followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Despite unconsciousness seeping into his brain, Harry forced his eyes open in a rush of horror.
"Siri…Sirius?" he coughed, gagging as a coppery taste filled his mouth.
There was an awful laugh and he could hear approaching footsteps.
Do something! His brain screamed at him. I can't! Harry inwardly screamed back.
The laughter came closer. "My, my, my…what have we here?"
Malfoy! Harry flinched at the familiar voice, struggling to get his limbs to obey so that he could reach for his wand. Sirius needed him!
Other voices joined Lucius Malfoy. The silver-haired man continued in a silky voice: "Black? So nice to meet you again; pity you are unconscious for it though. And Harry Potter, I presume? We've been waiting for you; what a state you're in…"
A bout of adrenaline allowed Harry to life his head, shaking as it was. He glared savagely at the foul man.
"Got a defiant streak in you, don't you, boy?" Lucius drawled. "Practically lying on death's door yet still has the gall to glare at me. You would make a fine addition to the Dark Lord's army."
Harry was momentarily shocked. What was this? Lucius was trying to recruit him? He thought Voldemort wanted him dead! A thick string of blood hung from his mouth but Harry was able to spat back, "Never! I'd never…j-join forces with a t-twisted freak like Voldemort." He could almost hear the cringe at the mention of their master's name.
There was a silence that was only penetrated by the sounds of feet shuffling and muttering.
A wand point was suddenly shoved against his forehead. "You know, I could have mercy and finish you off, seeing as you're already speeding towards death. But for such a rude remark, I'm going to let you suffer till the last breath you draw into your pitiful existence."
"I wouldn't deny myself the pleasure of killing Black, though; something I've been wanting for so long a time."
The toe of his boot nudged Sirius' face, pushing it so that his godfather's unconscious face was turned towards him.
Something inside Harry exploded. How dare they treat Sirius like that! Harry felt an enormous rush of adrenaline and an animalistic instinct to survive suddenly gripped him. Blood boiled in his veins and Harry's world narrowed down to Malfoy and only Malfoy. His fingers caught the edge of his holly wand and he rolled to sit up, wand pulsing. An explosion of white burst forth, blinding him, throwing him back to the cobblestone. The ground beneath him trembled. A rushing, roaring sound filled Harry's ears.
Slowly the sound receded and Harry found himself lying on his back, blood gushing from his nostrils. Waves of black and white washed across his vision as the fingers of unconsciousness pulled him under.
The last thing he saw was a face, looking strangely like his own, hovering over him. "Hell…" someone said in disbelief. "Hang on, kid. After that, I'm not going to let you die on my watch."
But it was too late, Harry thought.
Blackness took him.
I hope you liked the beginning! I'm open to suggestions, comments, ideas, and fair criticism. If you don't like it, tell me why. If you just say that you hate it, than i really won't care.
Until next time and Happy Literacy!