Just Around the Riverbend

Okay, I got it up. It was hard, because I re-wrote a few things a couple of times, reworded, and totally scrapped it once. I do hope you enjoy, and will tell me if you do.


Serin Blackmoon
Angeles
Voracious Reader
skibblezing
Jennifer
lilashannah
hairsprayX12
HarryGinny4Eva
margaritama
April
Citten


A good haul, but I'd love to double it!!

A/N UPDATE: SEE BELOW

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daisy fell heavily to the floor, screaming in agony. She’d never experienced the Cruciatus before, and her first lesson was a painful one. She threw herself to her back, her legs flailing and her arms thrashing like mad against the floor. She tasted blood in her mouth, and knew she’d bitten her tongue.

The curse was lifted a few moments later, and she took great mouthfuls of air to attempt to stave off the tears. She rose to her knees, and dry heaved a few times. She saw the tips of Harry’s boots come into focus, one stained through with blood, and she looked up. Voldemort reached down and grabbed her by the throat, and lifted her bodily into the air. He carried her, struggling weakly, over to where Draco had fallen, and dropped her beside him.

He turned his wand on Lucius, and his limp body rose up slightly, and was arranged on his knees on the floor, before he was chained firmly to the floor. Voldemort whispered an incantation, and Lucius’ eyes fluttered open. He realized he was in it deep, and struggled mightily against his bonds.

“Lucius.”

His head snapped up to stare at the possessed body of Harry Potter. Those eyes…there was no mistaking who was in control there. Somehow the spirit of the Dark Lord had taken over Potter’s body, and he was taking his revenge against them. He looked around at the carnage that had already been caused.

Hermione was tucked into the far corner, with that young Slytherin kneeling in front of her as guard. He appreciated the gesture, but he knew that no third year stood a chance against the Dark Lord. He turned back to where Voldemort stood, and saw Daisy sitting there weakly, shivering violently, and spitting out blood. She was showing classic signs of Cruciatus.

“Why can’t you stay dead?” Lucius spat. Voldemort only smiled.

“Such bravado for someone who is so utterly alone... Look, most of your loving public has fled.” He hissed, and pointed out to the audience. There were indeed only a few people left. The students had been ushered out of the Great Hall immediately, and only Kingsley, a handful of Aurors, the girl Potter had arrived with, and the Weasleys remained, all trying desperately to break the barrier. Everyone else had run.

“Leave us alone, you bastard!” Lucius snapped. Voldemort tilted his head slightly, and then looked at the two people at his feet.

“Daisy or Draco?” he asked simply. Lucius felt his heart plummet as he saw the two. Daisy looked up at him blearily, and Draco didn’t stir, as he was still Stunned.

“Wh-what do you mean?” he countered shakily.

“Come now, Lucius, you were never a dull man. Which one will you save? Daisy, the little half-blood orphan? Or Draco, your son and heir? Choose quickly, or they’ll both taste the Cruciatus.” He said, and with a flick of his wrist Draco was bound and Awakened.

“Ith okay, couthin…chooth Dwaco.” Daisy said, her words lisping due to the damage to her tongue. “I thtill love you…”

Lucius gasped, and could feel the hot tears falling from his eyes, but he could do nothing to prevent or rid himself of them.

“Don’t make me choose. Please don’t…” Lucius whispered. Daisy had become as much a daughter to him as Draco was a son. But he knew he could never choose her over Draco. Voldemort held his wand over Draco, and Lucius could see the angry blue gleam of the Cruciatus Curse clinging to the tip, ready to fire.

Draco was quiet, and looked at the tip of Harry’s wand.

“Take me.” He said suddenly, and he cowered under the intense red glare that leveled him.

“No! I can’t, Draco! I can’t lose you! Take me instead! Please don't harm them!” Lucius sobbed. Daisy seemed rather resigned to whatever fate awaited her, and Draco was cowering under the glare of the Dark Lord.

“Crucio.” Voldemort said lazily, pointing his wand at Daisy. She screamed again, and fell back, her heels drumming uselessly against the floor. Voldemort grinned at the sound of Lucius' anguished howl.

Voldemort felt an instinctive lurch, sort of a prickly feeling and looked up, noticing Severus watching him with dark, baleful eyes. No…wait. He wasn’t looking at him, he was looking-

He whirled around in time to freeze the lunging werewolf in place, and stared incredulously at the sharp teeth that had been going straight for the jugular. The only movement on the lycan was the whirling of his good eye; the other was closed harshly against the pain of the stinging hex he’d been hit with.

“Now, now. Bad dog.” he hissed. A flick of his wand tossed Phelan hard against the barrier in front of where the teachers had sat. Then another flick struck him against the one closest to the main body of the hall. He was lifted high into the air, and dropped unceremoniously into the corner. This time, he didn’t stir.

He languidly lifted the Cruciatus from Daisy, who immediately rolled over and vomited. He looked over to Severus to see he had gathered his wits from the Dark Mark Torture curse he’d endured, and was lunging desperately for his wand. A flick of Potter’s phoenix-feather wand froze him in mid leap, and he heard the breathed epithet.

“Severus, Severus. You naughty boy.” He limped over to where Severus was frozen, trying to ignore the agony in his leg. He leaned down and picked up Severus’ ebony wand. He pocketed the dark wand, and pointed his own directly into his face. “You caused my downfall, you traitorous bastard. You alone gave up the information that I so trustingly provided you. You gave me shit information on the Order, protecting Albus’ little chicken group from my wrath. I will make you suffer.” he growled, and Severus took a Blasting curse directly to the face.

The crunch of bone and cartilage was unmistakable, and Severus struck the barrier hard. He slid down slowly, and slumped over himself when he landed. Cole, forgetting his own bumped head, stood shakily and approached his father.

“Papa?” he asked softly. “Up, papa. Wakee.” Cole said, and pulled on his father’s sleeve. Cole ran to where his stuffed ‘raffe had been discarded when they’d fallen, and picked up the plushy. He ran back to his father, and tried to push the stuffed animal in his papa’s hands. “’Raffe here, papa. ‘Raffe make better.” But his father didn’t stir. Cole began to cry. “Papa…” he sobbed, and buried his face into his father’s side. “Papa….”

Severus’ arm lifted weakly, and wrapped around the sobbing toddler, and Cole looked up. His father was looking down at him, the lower half of his face completely stained by blood. Cole reached up and attempted to wipe the blood away, only succeeding in staining his own hands. Fat, pearly tears poured from the boy’s dark eyes as he met gazes with his father.

Severus didn’t have to use Legilimency to tell his son was frightened out of his wits. The boy was shaking like a life in a powerful gale, and his small face was sickly and pale. No lasting harm appeared to have befallen him, other than an aching arm and a small bruise on his forehead. Severus didn’t realize he was crying until his shoulders began to shake. He was about to leave this boy. He knew that the Dark Lord wouldn’t let him live past this day, and his only concern was his son.

The tears cut paths in the thick blood that covered his face, and he met gazes with the red-eyed Voldemort.
Voldemort pointed his wand at Severus, the first syllable to the Killing Curse on his tongue.

He pulled back suddenly, and his hands went to his head. He screamed, loud and unearthly, before he stood straight, emerald eyes looking around in panic. Severus stared in shock as Harry gained control momentarily, before stepping over to the barrier. He looked out at the Aurors, who were blasting spells against the magical cage with frightening power. He could feel Voldemort wrestling the control of his body back from him, and he acted desperately. He pulled his head back, and slammed it as hard as he could against the barrier, attempting to physically knock himself out. He doubted if he could get enough control to cast his own spell.

It did not succeed, and when he reeled back again, woozy, it was red eyes that blinked furiously. Frustrated and hurting, Voldemort lashed out physically at Severus, his boots making a sickening connection with the Potions Master’s side. Severus gagged, and spit up a few mouthfuls of blood.

“Stop it, you great bloody snake!”

He briefly met Hermione’s gaze, and he saw her trembling, with tears staining her face. She had her wand pointed feebly at him in attempt to defend herself and the unborn child she carried. Tom had his wand pointed at him as well, and Lucy had her head poking out of Tom’s shirt and was hissing angrily at the Dark Lord.

“Harry…fight him…” Hermione said softly. A strange look passed over Voldemort’s face, and he hissed in pain. Harry fought for dominance of his own body, and Hermione was rewarded with a glimpse of emerald eyes.

“Kill…Kill me!” he sobbed to Tom, before he shook his head as if to clear it and the red eyes reappeared. “Damn, Potter. You’re giving me a headache.” He said, and Silenced Hermione. With his wand wavering a bit between the pregnant witch and the Slytherin student, he gave a wicked grin. “Avada-”

There was a flash of light almost like an explosion, and Voldemort whirled around. A gleam of crimson above their heads caught his attention, and he saw a white-robed figure fall several feet, and land off-kilter, just to trip and fall on his bottom.

“Damn it, Fawkes, you great, bloody, charbroiled chicken! You couldn’t land us on the floor?” the stranger stood, and rubbed his tailbone. Voldemort saw Kingsley gasp in recognition.

Hermione watched as the white-robed figure stood, and looked at the stranger from behind. Disbelief was written prominently on her face. His black hair was sleek and grew just past his shoulders. He was wearing a sleeveless white robe with pointy shoulders. Tight, dark gray under-armor clung to his upper arms and his legs, and he was wearing crimson leather forearm guards. He had on fingerless black gloves and supple black leather boots, and he was holding a wand tightly in his right hand.

A flap of crimson above them gave away the location to the wayward phoenix, which flew towards the stranger and landed on an outstretched fist.

“Squaw!” Fawkes crooned, and the stranger turned sharply, his white robes swishing out behind him. Hermione gasped when she saw his face.

Sirius Black stood before them, restored to what he would have looked like had Azkaban not hollowed his handsome features. His face was smooth and filled out with the youthful exuberance of a relatively young wizard. He had a neatly trimmed goatee, and his fine eyebrows only complimented his eyes. His eyes….where they were once smoky gray, they had gone iridescent, and caught a rainbow of colors in the light of the Great Hall.

Voldemort looked at Black, before he hissed again, and his hand came to his head. His eyes faded to emerald.

“Sirius! Please! Please, kill me! I couldn’t stand to hurt you. Please!” Harry begged, before the emerald was overpowered by crimson and Voldemort took control again. Fawkes warbled something to Sirius, who tilted his head.

“Yeah. It is kind of unoriginal to steal someone’s body.” Another warble. “Tell me about it. I can smell him from over here!” he snorted. Voldemort shouted angrily, and began to fire off spells at Sirius. Sirius tossed Fawkes into the air, and the Phoenix took flight safely away from where Sirius and Voldemort began to duel in earnest.

Sirius had been trained as an Auror, and had he been allowed to keep his position, and had James Potter lived, the two would have been the most legendary Aurors to ever join the force, even more dangerous than Moody and with much more to offer in the physical attractiveness department.

Voldemort was wounded by that infernal werewolf, and so could not move as fast as Sirius could. Sirius seemed to almost dance around Voldemort’s spells with the grace and air of a professional. A well-timed Knockback Jinx put Voldemort on his back, and it was only a matter of seconds before Sirius stood over him, holding down his wand hand with his booted foot.

“Go on, Black. Kill me. But know this: in destroying me you destroy your precious Godson.” He said, and laughed cruelly.

“Or….” Sirius drawled, causing the Dark Lord to stop laughing and glare at him. “Or I could just cut you out of Harry’s soul.” He said, and squatted down. Voldemort saw four runes marked on the front of Sirius’ robes, and his eyes widened at the meaning of them.

Sirius placed his wand on Voldemort’s chest, and drew a large lowing 'X.' Black mist began to rise out of Harry’s mouth, and his scar burst open like an overripe fruit, spewing blood from his forehead. The barrier that had held the group in and everyone out dissipated with the sharp sparkling of magical residue, and the Aurors rushed on the platform to take care of the injured.

The black mist rose like an evil cloud from Harry’s body, and Fawkes dove at it like it was prey. As soon as his fiery body flew through the mist, it disappeared in a puff of flame and the unmistakable stink of stale death.

Harry was seizing violently, with bloody foam dripping from between his clenched teeth. Sirius was holding him as still as he could, and crooning soft words to Harry. After a few moments, Harry’s violent shuddering ceased, and he felt Harry clutch desperately at his forearms.

“Don’t g-go away. Pl-please don’t go away.” He sobbed pitifully. Sirius pulled Harry close, not minding that the blood was staining his white robes.

“Oh Kiddo…. I’m here to stay this time.” He said, holding him like a parent might hold a sick child.

“I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry. Pl-please don’t hate m-me. I f-fought…I did… he was just t-too strong…” Harry wept. Sirius rocked Harry gently, and Harry’s eyes closed after a few moments, completely exhausted.

“Papa!”

The scream disturbed Sirius, who looked over in time to see one of the Aurors gently prying Cole away from Severus, who was being laid out on a magical stretcher. Cole wasn’t crying: he was squalling. The loud, heart-wrenching sobs were tearing at Sirius. He gently laid Harry down to be seen to by the Aurors that were conjuring stretchers, and approached the sobbing child.

“May I?” he asked the Auror holding him. The Auror got a fierce look on his face, and started to draw his wand.

“Let him.” The order came from Kingsley Shacklebolt. “You know as well as I that Sirius Black was never guilty.”

Fortunately for Sirius, right as the ‘Final Battle’ had taken place, the Ministry had come into the custody of one Peter Pettigrew, who revealed his entire story under Veritiserum before being summarily Kissed and his living husk put into Azkaban for life. The Ministry had posthumously declared Sirius innocent, and a memorial plaque had been given to Harry, bearing Sirius’ old Auror badge.

The Auror looked down at the screaming child, and then offered him to Sirius. Sirius took Cole gently, and looked down at his red face. Cole calmed down a bit, enough to see whose hands he’d changed to, and his screeching sobs turned to curious sniffles at the stranger holding him.

He looked kinda like his papa with his pale face and dark hair. But this man had pretty eyes. They changed color as he moved his head.

“Papa…” Cole said, and pointed to the stretcher taking his papa’s limp body out of the Great Hall.

“Your papa is sick, Snapelet. They’re probably taking him down to see Madam Pomfrey to make him all better.” He said.

“Make papa better?” Cole sniffled. Sirius nodded sagely.

“Yup. Poppy’ll make sure he’s snarky again in no time!” Cole tilted his head.

“’Narky?” he asked.

“Uh…Minister? What do we do with the werewolf?”

Sirius turned to see one of the Aurors pointing to the limp gray lump in the corner. Kingsley approached Phelan, and two other Aurors stood behind him as backup. Kingsley knelt by Phelan’s side, and reached out to rub one of Phelan’s large, pointed ears.

“Mr. Greyback? Can you hear me?” he asked. Phelan’s eye cracked open, and he whimpered softly. “Can you change back? Blink once for yes and twice for no.”

Phelan blinked twice, and his long lupine tongue darted out to clean the blood from his black nose.

“Put him on a stretcher and take him to the Infirmary. Floo for the best veterinary healer you know. He won’t be able to change himself back until he’s healed, and this form isn’t familiar to Pomfrey.” He said, and petted Phelan’s neck gently. Phelan was levitated onto a stretcher, and carried off of the dais.

As soon as Lucius was released from his chains, he made a point of nearly tackling his son with a powerful embrace, and then kneeling at Daisy’s side as she was gently put on a stretcher.

“Daisy, I-” he started, before she waved him off.

“Don’t. Thtill love you. Go to ‘Mione.” She said, and attempted to give him a grin. It would have been reassuring if her teeth hadn’t been stained with blood, and if her smile hadn’t been more of a grimace. The image was burned into Lucius’ mind. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Draco staring at him.

“I’ll go with Daisy down to the infirmary. You go check on Hermione.” He said softly. His father nodded, and stood to his feet quickly.

“Draco?” Lucius inquired. Draco looked up. “I love you, son. Never forget that.” He said. Draco gave him a small smile, and walked beside Daisy’s stretcher as they took her from the Great Hall.

Lucius went to where Hermione was being put on a stretcher, and he felt his heart nearly explode in his chest.

“Hermione?” he asked, his voice leaving him. She looked over and smiled at him.

“I’m fine, Lu. They just want to take me down to double check. Tom kept me from hitting the ground too hard, and I wasn’t part of the fray.” She said. Relief seemed to fill every pore of him, and he visibly sagged. He nearly pushed one of the Aurors out of the way to swoop down on his wife and encircle her in a tight embrace. At first she struggled a bit, quite embarrassed, but when she heard the uneven, sob-like breaths he was taking, she merely wrapped her arms around him and let him hold her.

After a few moments he pulled away and she could have sworn his eyelashes looked wet, though he would vehemently deny it later. She glanced over to see Sirius physically placing Harry on a stretcher. She looked back at Lucius, and sighed softly.

“I’ll be buggered upside down with a pitchfork if this hasn’t been the most fucked-up day ever.” She said softly. Lucius looked over at the resurrected pureblood and his newly Exorcised charge, and sighed.

“I concur.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now that you've read, wet yourself, and cried a little, I would love a review.

No, I didn't forget Bella, she'll be back next time.

***A/N UPDATE**

Okay, kids. I have a little contest for you. I submitted a picture of Sirius in his resurrection costume onto deviant art. I have a picture of the four runes emblazoned on his chest. If someone can tell me what those runes are, what they mean, and why I put them on Sirius' robes, I will write them a 3000 word (give or take) one-shot on the TOPIC OF THEIR CHOICE.

http://kooldragon400.deviantart.com/art/Sirius-Black-168163163

Submit your answer in a review here, and I'll give this a week before I update again, and I'll announce the winner. Don't be discouraged, kids. I know nothing about runes, and I just did a little google-ing to find out what I wanted to know. Good night, and good luck.