A Chance for Light

Prologue
October, 1981

He’d done it.

He didn’t know why, exactly — well, other than the fact that they were the Potters and he, Sirius, their best friend — but he’d done it.

Sirius Black was a Secret-Keeper. Not the normal kind, though, who guarded a friends’ secret Galleon stash or embarrassing secret. He was the one thing standing between the Dark Lord Voldemort murdering a family of kind-hearted, well-meaning people.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, running a hand through his mop of shaggy black hair. He was sitting in Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts, sipping tea and eating lemon drops the Headmaster had offered.

“You regret your actions?” Albus Dumbledore asked with one bushy eyebrow raised. Sirius immediately shook his head, no hesitation evident.

“Not at all, Albus,” the young man said. “I’m honoured that James and Lily trust me with their — and Harry’s! — safekeeping. It’s just…I don’t completely understand the logic behind it. Soon enough, Voldemort will know my part in this, and then…”

“You do not fear for your safety, my boy, but rather for your ability to keep the Secret were you forced into a compromising situation,” murmured Albus in a semi-question.

Sirius’ eyes flashed brightly. “Voldemort will get nothing out of me, and don’t you forget it, Albus,” he shot at the older wizard.

Dumbledore sighed. “I will not forget, Sirius. But I know the things torture can do to a man, even one of such bright spirit as you.” Sirius glowered, but nodded slightly as he stood.

“Thank you again for inviting me here, but I have to go.”

“Where?”

“The place I love most.” A wry, sarcastic smile crossed Sirius’ face. “Grimmauld Place.”

*

Sirius stalked the dark corridors of his family’s home, wrapped in a heavy cloak against the cold drafts. He yawned hugely. Exhausted though he was, he still had to mentally double-check the wards he’d placed; if not for himself, then for the sake of those who trusted him.

Finally, satisfied that everything was in working order, he tossed an order over his shoulder to Kreacher.

“Keep away from my room while I’m asleep, you bloody nuisance!”

Without waiting for a response, Sirius slammed his bedroom door shut and crashed on his bed, promptly falling asleep.

*

Standing outside the neat row of houses shadowed in the starlight night, a small group of cloaked figures gathered. At the forefront of the cluster stood a figure taller than the rest, and at his side, a small hunched man wring his hands together nervously.

“If you are right, Wormtail, you will be rewarded richly,” the tall man hissed in a voice painful to hear. The sadistic tone lilting in his speech could chill the heart of the bravest man. Wormtail shuddered violently but somehow managed to stutter,

“T—thank you, My Lo—my Lord.”

“I would have thought the Potters more clever than to make Black, their most obvious choice, their Secret-Keeper,” he continued, “however, it suits our purposes just fine.” With a casual wave of his wand, Lord Voldemort severely weakened Sirius’ carefully-placed wards and motioned six Death Eaters forward to work on fully breaking them down. The Dark Lord himself and his new accomplice, Wormtail, stood back to observe.

*

Although Sirius’ body cried out in protest, he was jolted from his much-needed sleep as he felt a twinge in his magical energy. It could mean only one thing.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. Immediately, his wand in hand, he was out of bed and mentally searching through all of his wards.

They were completely gone.

“Oh, shit,” he repeated grimly. Of course, in the back of his mind he’d known that something like this would happen eventually, but not so soon. No one was expecting such an immediate attack; the Fidelius Charm had been performed just that morning! He wasn’t ready physically—his body weak from lack of sleep, his reflexes subsequently slower. Even the great Sirius Black couldn’t successfully face a force of Death Eaters in this state and expect to come out on top.

But Merlin’s beard, he would give it his best shot.

Standing in the corridor outside his room, Sirius could see the top of the main stairway, and he crept toward it, knowing that the overconfident attackers would likely rush up the front way. The house was silent though, but he didn’t put it past them to have placed delicate silencing spells all over their bodies.

Sirius brandished his wand at his side, fingers gripping the smooth wooden shaft in anticipation of the coming confrontation. He’d always hated sneaking around, even in school when it was necessary almost every night, and much preferred to face people squarely.

“He’s up there!” came an excited shout, breaking the eerie silence. Sirius darted around and took a few long steps back as the clatter of running Death Eaters sounded on the stairs.

“Petrificus Totalus!” shouted Sirius, casting the first spell of the fight, causing the Death Eater who’d spoken up to fall, rigid, back to the first floor, tripping up another cloaked figure on the way. “Must’ve been a new recruit,” he muttered to himself, listening to the anxious voices of the other wizards as they tried to form a hasty plan of action upon realizing that their quarry was ready to face them with force.

Suddenly, as Sirius continued backing away, three Death Eaters came charging up and into the hallway, shooting curses as they came. Flashes of light quickly illuminated the dark corridor, and Sirius ducked a Bat-Bogey Hex, luckily missing a cunningly cast Killing Curse that he could feel scorch his hair.

“Bastard!” The vain streak in him actually caused Sirius to reach up and feel his hair as he continued defending himself.

“Expelliarmus!” He disarmed the foremost Death Eater and snapped the man’s wand beneath his foot. “Protego!” Relatively safe with a Shield Charm, he grasped the handle of a nearby room and ducked inside, slamming it shut behind him to gain a few moments of respite.

Sirius was alarmed to see that his breath was laboured—already. He’d only taken out three of them, and there must have been at least a dozen to take down all those wards so quickly.

Then his breath caught in his throat as he realized something else. There may have been fewer Death Eaters sent…if they were backed by someone extremely powerful.

“Voldemort,” he gasped out, feeling a sudden chill up his spine. As the Death Eaters reached the door and blasted it open, Sirius spun slowly, his eyes connecting for a few moments with those of someone who’d already been in the room.

The Dark Lord himself.

“This is definitely not my day,” the former Gryffindor muttered, before being hit with four Stunning Spells. He crumpled to the floor unceremoniously with his wand still held defiantly in his right hand.

Voldemort stepped forward and sneered down at the young man.

“Fool,” was all he said, before Disapparating. The remaining Death Eaters understood their tasks: to recover their fallen and transport the captive to Malfoy Manor, where he would await his fate.

*

“He what!?” exclaimed Remus Lupin in horrified disbelief. He and Severus Snape, who had graduated a Slytherin the same year as the Marauders, were sitting facing Dumbledore in the Headmaster’s office in Hogwarts.

“He was taken,” repeated Albus in a grave tone, “by Voldemort himself and a small group of Death Eaters. Alastor Moody and myself have been through Grimmauld Place and the evidence is clear; we both sensed traces of the Dark Lord’s magic on what was left of Sirius’ wards.”

“Black was never any good at defensive magic; he much preferred offense,” muttered Snape. Remus glanced sharply at him and his nostrils flared in a wolflike manner.

“Don’t speak of Sirius as though he’s already dead and gone!” he snapped. “There will be a rescue attempt, Albus? The Ministry can’t sit by and let this new transgression go by unchallenged.”

Snape let out a bark of derisive laughter.

“Your faith in the Ministry is naïve, Remus!” he chuckled. “The fools will do nothing but sit by and wait as Voldemort tortures the truth out of your friend—he will torture Black for the pleasure of it, rather than make it easy with Veritaserum, that I know—and then they will continue to watch as the Potters and their child are killed in cold blood!”

Remus had gone white. He turned to Dumbledore plaintively, wondering why the old man just sat there, seemingly in shock.

“What will you do, Albus?” he asked softly.

Dumbledore sighed and directed his soft blue gaze at one of his brightest former students. “I, unfortunately, can do nothing. My position as Headmaster will keep me from any obvious form of resistance in this war. However, I can give you guidance. My advice is that you two work together. I feel that you will solve the problem with great efficiency, if you simply come to terms with your past and accept your differences.”

For a long moment Remus and Severus stared at each other, as Dumbledore looked on with interest. Finally Snape, to the other men’s’ surprise, took the first move and offered his hand to Remus.

“I may not like Black, and despise Potter, but Lily has gained my respect over the years,” he said slowly. “For her sake, if no one else’s, I will help you free your friend.”

“Thank you for this, Severus,” murmured Lupin in a voice of gratitude. “I won’t forget it.”

“Don’t be thanking me yet. We still have to actually get our hands on Black.”

Dumbledore smiled, happy that the bad news had been turned into an opportunity. “Well, boys, I’m very sorry but you will have to leave, and perhaps visit Grimmauld Place to help the Aurors investigating the scene. I give you full use of Order resources to complete your task.”

“Thank you, Albus,” Remus said.

“Headmaster,” Snape nodded and the young men left Dumbledore’s office.

*

Ten minutes later Remus and Severus were standing in the entranceway of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. A small task force of CSAs — Crime Scene Aurors — were puttering about, inspecting magical residues and attempting to put together more information on who had been involved in the attack and what had actually happened.

Remus immediately began walking around, poking his nose in every corner and using werewolf senses to sniff out information. He had only been at it for a short while when Severus tapped him on the shoulder.

“This will get us nowhere,” Snape grunted in annoyance. “I believe a direct route would be much more effective.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Malfoy Manor.”