The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016

The Dark Lord and His Friends

The Dark Lord and His Friends

"Ah... Sirius Black..." The Dark Lord cooed, a smile spreading across his face, bending his rather nice features into a wicked grin which held more evil than humor. "I wondered when I would be hearing from you."

Sirius's palms were soaked with sweat so badly he could feel the mirror slipping in his hands and dug his fingers in real good to hold it steady. The last thing he needed was the Dark Lord knowing he was nervous. The entire plan relied on Voldemort being unaware that anything unusual was happening at all. Sirius mustered every ounce of courage he had within him - everything which made him a Gryffindor - and said, "You were expecting me, then?"

"But of course," the Dark Lord said, his high voice raspy and quiet, demanding attention. "It was only a matter of time before you returned... the prodigal son."

"Um, yes, yes, exactly," Sirius replied, nodding, "I've been just waiting for the right moment. Biding my time, see, until I could get to talk to you myself about it. That's why I stole the mirror from Lucius Malfoy. I knew he knew how to talk to you and I found out and stole it so I could tell you myself not to think less of me."

The Dark Lord smirked, staring through the glass with eyes that seemed to sparkle with -- was that pride? Sirius felt his stomach churn at the thought of it. The Dark Lord - proud - of him. Somehow it seemed like the opposite of what one should strive for in one's life. "I could never think less of you," said Voldemort slowly, "I knew the day would come when you would reach out to me."

Sirius took a deep breath. "I've snuck off the grounds, sir," he said. "I was hoping that we could speak... in person. And... I know you've been trying to take the castle. I know that's what Malfoy's been working on. He - he told me. I'm his cousin, you see, so he confides in me. And I know about Tutman being imperiused. But I could bring you back up to the castle and we could take it over. Together. You and me and Lucius."

Voldemort smiled, his lips slowly curling. "And is Lucius there with you?"

"No sir," Sirius replied.

"So you are alone, then?"

Sirius nodded.

Voldemort's eyes twinkled. "Well then," he said thickly, "As you wish."

Sirius's heart thumped so loudly he could feel it fighting to get out of his chest. This was the moment. This was it. It was coming. The mirror went suddenly dark and he dropped it onto the grass and there was a flash of light and a great pop! and several things happened at once.

Five voices shouted "Stupefy!" at exactly the same time from five different angles. Red sparks flew from five wands, shooting directly to the center of the clearing at the spot where Lord Voldemort suddenly apparated, arms raised in a V as he cast his own spell - "Protego!" - and the red sparks hit the shield he'd just created around himself, bouncing off, deflected, and shooting back into the trees. Sirius's spell rebounded on himself, hitting himself squarely in the chest and he fell down while the others had warning enough to duck out of the way of their spells, which flew through the woods before fizzing out or striking a tree. Peter scrambled away from his brush, his feet flying across the stoney path, tripping over tree roots, hitting the ground and scraping his knees and the heels of his hands, panting with desperation, unsure which direction the castle lay in.

The Dark Lord laughed, "Did you really think I would apparate without protecting myself?" He loomed, lean and tall over Sirius's stupefied body, a grin twisting his features. "That I didn't knowwhat you were up to long ago? I could hear every word you were saying. All this time." He shook his head, "Although I will say, it is too bad that you couldn't have truly turned to join me, you've got a certain... inhibition... that is quite impressive." Voldemort stared down at him. "It really is a shame, wasting all the talent you have for mischief." He chuckled, "Oh well..."