Adoris Integare by megan_lupin
Summary: Nightmares created another sleepless night for Sirius Black, but who would have thought that the night would include the meeting of old friends, trying to decipher cryptic poems, and travelling to centuries in the past to supposedly complete an as-of-yet unknown task?

Written for the "Gauntlet Writing Challenge V" by megan_lupin of Gryffindor.

Edit: Received First Place!
Categories: General Fics Characters: None
Warnings: Substance Abuse
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 3 Completed: Yes Word count: 14874 Read: 6555 Published: 02/15/08 Updated: 02/17/08

1. Part I: Sleepless Nights and Old Friends by megan_lupin

2. Part II: Escapes, Poems, and Time-Travel by megan_lupin

3. Part III: Explanations Given and a Task Completed by megan_lupin

Part I: Sleepless Nights and Old Friends by megan_lupin
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise does not belong to me, however much I wish that it did. Instead, it all belongs to J. K. Rowling – I’m just borrowing them all right now. However, anything you do not recognise does belong to me, unless stated otherwise.

Summary: His sleepless night was just the beginning of this adventure.


Author’s Note: Well, here it is, the first part of my latest Gauntlet entry, and parts of it do tie into Recolitus Optimus, my story for the Mini-Gauntlet from July, 2007. However, it isn’t necessary to have read that fic to fully understand this one. Without further ado, I present for your enjoyment, Part I of Adoris Integare, entitled, Sleepless Nights and Old Friends.


~**~


Adoris Integare


By megan_lupin


~**~


Part I: Sleepless Nights and Old Friends


~**~



Columns of fire rose towards the night sky, the thick, black smoke rising with them already increasing the darkness around the now-destroyed home. Heat radiated from the orange flames as they crackled and lapped at the wood and previously charming structure that had housed a happy family not but a few hours ago.


He stumbled through the piles of debris and rubble, tossing broken pieces of the furniture and walls aside as he searched. Thoughts swirled in his mind, and a part of him longed to call out, to find out if they were still there, if they were still alright, but he couldn’t. Even if he didn’t fear the answer (or lack thereof), the heavy smoke prevented him from speaking clearly enough to be heard.


And then he saw it, though he tried to tell his mind that it wasn’t true. The pale hand attached to his best friend’s arm that was connected to his body was
not lying unmoving near the small table. It’s not true, he thought. It’s not … No … It’s not.


But there was no denying what was right in front of his eyes, no matter how much he wished he could —


Sirius Black suddenly jerked awake in a cold sweat, gasping for air and sitting up in his bed, trying to still his racing heart as he ran his hands over his face, willing the vivid images of the nightmare to disappear. A few minutes passed before he was able to calm back down, the images of a burning house and his friends’ bodies dimming and dimming until they had left the forefront of his mind. Once his breathing had returned to normal, Sirius glanced around his room, taking in the discarded pieces of parchment and dirty clothes that littered his floor, the empty potion vial that had contained a Dreamless Sleep Potion – And that certainly hadn’t done any good, he thought – sitting on his bedside table, and a still-open book lying on his desk. Raising his gaze just a bit, he caught sight of the calendar on his desk, with the date of “31 October” clearly visible from across the room due to the light of the nearly-full moon shining through his window.


“That would explain it,” he muttered, and he slowly made his way out of the bed and across the room to his door. He knew there would be no more sleep tonight, not after those kinds of nightmares.


As he made his way through the narrow corridors of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius realised just how quiet the old house was – far more silent than he had heard it in a long time, as a matter of fact. It was a thick silence, one that seemed eerie, almost, and unnatural, as it was only broken by the tick … tick … tick of the large clock in the library and the nearly-silent sounds of his footsteps as he descended the stairs towards the kitchen.


Upon entering the kitchen, he made his way over towards the counter, on top of which sat the bottle of Firewhisky he’d left the night before after talking with Remus over something or other. Still half-full, he picked it up before sitting down at the table and taking a swig, staring across the room at nothing in particular and trying to keep from focussing on his thoughts as the alcohol travelled down his throat.


Sirius knew that the sleepless (or on those that he did get sleep, restless) nights would soon catch up to him, but he couldn’t think of any other way to cease the nightmares, and trying to sleep after having one of those was just about impossible – He knew from experience. Obviously a Dreamless Sleep Potion wouldn’t work for long (but, glancing at his watch, he saw that it did manage to get him a good four hours of rest), and even when Remus had suggested that he try to stop the nightmares by talking about them had produced negative results. Other potions produced the same or worse results than that of the Dreamless Sleep, and not even passing out drunk worked for long (and the result upon waking up was far worse after those attempts).


But, he thought, taking another drink from the bottle, if anyone asks, I’m swearing that I slept for most of the night.


Minutes continued to tick by, the time passing slowly as Sirius sat in the kitchen, lifting the bottle of Firewhisky for a drink every once in a while and sweeping his gaze across the room. Thoughts swirled in his mind, ranging from the latest Order meeting (in which no new news of Voldemort was given and he was told once again to “stay in the house”) to Harry (who he hadn’t heard from (or been able to write to) in over three weeks due to Ministry interference) to the simple thought of how he was going to waste another day (which he had been doing for almost four months, as a matter of fact, and was beginning to run out of ideas for). He was about to take another drink of the now-nearly-empty bottle when a small, twinkling light caught his eye.


Looking across the room, Sirius saw the cause of the light – something was reflecting off a piece of glass. He stood up, leaving the bottle on the table, and went over to examine the glass, not having realised it earlier (and it wasn’t like sunlight would have caused the glass to reflect light in that manner; it was still the middle of the night). Sirius picked the object up, fingering it from hand to hand as he tried to figure out what it was.


The object was clearly made of a type of glass, though it wasn’t the same crystal that was usually found in the House of Black. It shimmered as he held it and ran his hands over its smooth, rounded edges. Only about slightly larger than a Golden Snitch, the object wasn’t quite as ball-shaped as it was egg-shaped. Intricate designs could be seen faintly covering the glass surface, though they were so faint it was difficult to make them out. A light layer of dust covered one of the object’s sides, and as Sirius wiped it away, another symbol on the glass object became evident for just the briefest of moments before the entire kitchen of Grimmauld Place was engulfed in a brilliant, white light …


And when the light had left, the bottle of Firewhisky was all that remained in the now-empty room.


----


The next time Sirius opened his eyes, it was to a vastly different sight from the one he last remembered seeing. The dark and dismal appearance of Number Twelve’s kitchen had seemingly been replaced by a wide open and grassy field, with golden rays of sunlight beaming down on him. Blinking to try and adjust to his very sunny and bright surroundings, Sirius slowly sat up from his position on the ground, grasping his head as he did so.


Looking around, his first thought was somewhere along the lines of “Where the hell am I?” and was followed quickly by wondering something like “How did I get here?” Nothing looked familiar, and Sirius couldn’t ever remember being anywhere like this field. Not even Hogwarts or Hogsmeade – which would have been the closest comparisons – came anywhere near being like this area. A few trees could be found standing every once in a while, their green leaves blowing slightly in the cool breeze, while some birds flew overhead. Cloudless blue skies allowed the sun to shine extraordinarily brightly, and he just sat for a brief moment enjoying the feeling of being outside in such clear and wide, open freedom …


Freedom. The thought seemed to jog his memory, and Sirius immediately tensed up, quickly looking around to make sure that he was, in reality, alone and not in any immediate danger of being caught. As his eyes scanned his surroundings, checking to see if anyone else was around, he caught sight of a light brown satchel lying only a few feet from him. Being the only object that didn’t seem at home in the open field, Sirius walked over towards it and picked it up, flipping through the objects inside – but not before picking up the ebony wand that lay beside the bag – How did my wand get here? he thought, remembering full well that he’d left it in the kitchen – and putting it back inside his pocket.


After discovering that the satchel held only a few items – a heavy, dark leather book that, upon flipping through it for a moment, seemed to be about some sort of history; an old and worn piece of parchment that greatly resembled the Marauder’s Map; and a tiny, golden hourglass attached to a very lengthy, but thin, chain – Sirius was still at a loss on both where he was and how he had arrived there. Having hoped that the bag would contain answers to at least one of those questions, he was severely disappointed –


Until he looked down and discovered another piece of parchment, this one looking much newer than that of the map, lying at his feet. Bending down, he picked the parchment up and opened it, the words and images within sparking several memories – both recent and distant – inside him.


Seven different symbols could be seen on the parchment, one in each of the four corners with two on the sides and the final one – much larger than the other six – located in the very centre of the parchment, faded a bit so as to make it possible to read the words written over it. All of the symbols were alike, yet different, and they were all images that Sirius had seen before, nearly two decades earlier in a book in his father’s library. Not to mention his memories of the adventure in his seventh year, when he’d come across several symbols of the ancient Wizarding Order of Recolitus Optimus.


And here I’d hoped that had only been a hell of a dream, he thought, his hands tracing over the different images.


The six symbols surrounding the borders of the parchment were those for the Branches of the Wolf, Bear, Fish, Dragon, Owl, and Stag. The one in the centre, larger though fainter than the others, was that of the symbol for the Branch of the Dog. Alike in many ways, all the images were circular, surrounded by fiery vines with a sword intersecting two crossing wands. Pictures of an animal and words could be seen on each symbol, denoting what branch of Recolitus Optimus the symbol was for, though the placement of the words and pictures varied with each. That of the Branch of the Dog, for instance, held two dogs, one on each side of the sword’s hilt, and the words “Recolitus Optimus: Canis” arcing over the tip of the sword at the top of the symbol.


But it wasn’t so much the images that held Sirius's attention, but rather the words that had been written on the parchment. Overlaying the symbol of Canis were several paragraphs – a poem.



Ten and four in the past,
Flower’s light brought down the Dark
But it would not last;
For, once again, would rise the Mark.


Words long ago spoken
Were not understood.
Therefore the bond was broken
But Evil cannot conquer Good.


Now Loyalty must once again
Set out to complete the task.
Using only what was given him;
For help, he shall not ask.


But a word of caution before the end
Must be handed down to thee:
In certain roads around the bend,
Do not interfere with what eyes may see.


Loyalty must travel on;
Here, his own road he will make.
Once completed, arise will dawn,
And back in safety, he will wake.




He read through the poem several times, each time hoping to get more sense out of the words than what he’d had before. Try as he might, however, he didn’t experience any sort of major epiphany over the meaning. Suspicions and guesses, yes, but true, concrete understanding and knowledge, no. Sirius had a sneaking suspicion that the “Loyalty” referred to was himself, and even as he thought this, memories of his past came hurling back to him, straight into the forefront of his mind … A tall, black-haired Dark witch uttering the same words, over and over, in the middle of an underground tunnel:



“A bond between four
That none could destroy:
Leadership, Loyalty, Betrayal, Mystery.
Unknown, such unity ever was.”




The prophecy had continued, of course, but what he hadn’t understood then, he seemed to know now. It had all stood for someone, he thought. It wasn’t just for the ancient Order, and for the Branch of the Rat, but for … us. A slight chill went down Sirius's spine at the thought that a Dark witch’s century-old prophecy had referred to him and his friends.


Pushing the thought aside, however, he searched once again through all of the objects he had with him, throwing the parchment in his hands into a pocket. All right, we have a Time-Turner, a map, a book, and a glass, egg-shaped … thing. He lifted each object out of the satchel again before replacing most of them. The glass egg, for a reason he didn’t really understand, he kept in his hands as he stood up and began walking.


----


Sirius wasn’t sure how long had passed before he came across something other than the wide, open field he’d been. A part of him felt like he’d only been walking for a few minutes, while another part insisted that it had been several hours. Regardless, no sign of exhaustion seeped through him – which in itself was odd, as he hadn’t slept well for days. In front of him, however, stood a sight that was as far from the field as possible.


Several buildings towered around him, with roads crisscrossing every which way and streetlamps dotting along the sidewalks. If Sirius didn’t know better, he’d guess that he was in a large city, like London, perhaps. But that’s not possible, he thought for a moment before pushing the idea aside. However he had gotten here, it didn’t matter, he supposed.


He began walking down the dark and deserted street, not quite having a destination in mind. The brief thought of transforming into Padfoot crossed his mind, but he let it pass; there was no one around to see him, and it felt good to walk out in public as a human for once. Besides, if anyone does show up, then I’ll worry about hiding.


No sooner had the thought arose, however, did Sirius lay eyes on one person he knew should not have seen him. Long, blond hair and clothed in deep, black velvet, Lucius Malfoy stood only a few metres in front of him.


And to make things worse, Malfoy turned to look right at him.


Shit, he thought and Sirius immediately ducked back into the alley to his left, transforming as he did so and hurrying through an open door to one of the buildings. Different glasses lined the nearby bar, and tables were scattered all over what looked like a somewhat dingy pub. It strongly resembled the Leaky Cauldron, though a bit dirtier.


Still hidden in the shadows of the corridor, Sirius tensed as he heard footsteps, quickly followed by Malfoy’s voice and an overpowering blackness.


----


When Sirius finally returned to consciousness, confusion was rampant in his mind for only the shortest time before understanding overpowered it, and the memories of the last few moments all came rushing back. His eyes still closed, he let himself remember everything – how Lucius had seen him walking down the street, how he’d transformed and run into a pub, only to encounter the blond wizard once again, how the spell had left Malfoy’s wand before he’d even had a chance to react …


And here we are, he thought, slowly opening his eyes to find himself leaning up against a thin, wooden column and discovering the reason why his hands hadn’t been able to move at first; they’d been bound tightly behind his back, the ropes obviously magical so as to prevent an Animagus transformation. With every movement of struggling against the bonds, they tightened around his wrists, cutting into the skin. Muttered curses spewed from his mouth, and he found himself at least partially thankful that no Silencing Charm had been employed.


The room was heavily cloaked in darkness, a sole flickering candle the only thing breaking through the shadows, so as to make it impossible for Sirius to even know how large the room was. He struggled to get his eyes used to the darkness, and strained his ears so as to hear a shuffling of feet, an exhale of breath – anything to tell him whether or not he was alone. But no sound reached him, other than that of his own movements.


He was alone.


Well, that’s one good thing, he thought, trying to relax his hands as to keep the ropes from tightening anymore. At the rate they were going, it felt like they’d cut his hands off shortly. And that was certainly something that he didn’t need.


“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he muttered, glancing around him as he did so. Sighing in relief, Sirius saw that he still had everything that he’d gathered from the field – just not within reach. The brown satchel lay in a nearby chair, the closest leg far enough away that Sirius couldn’t knock the chair over to retrieve the bag. His wand, too, lay next to the satchel, as did the glass egg. He’d be able to leave as soon as got out of the bonds.


Easier said than done, he thought, suddenly wishing at the same time that he still had the penknife he’d given Harry for Christmas the year before. It’d surely come in handy right about now. But rather than spend too long lamenting the lack of a helpful item, Sirius scanned around the room – what he could see of it – in the hopes that some other object would be within reach. His survey of his surroundings, however, had barely begun before the door opened and in stepped the reason for his current predicament.


“Tell me, Black,” said Lucius by way of greeting, turning around to shut the door as he spoke. “Is stupidity a natural instinct for you or did it have to be learned?”


“I wondered the same thing about you, Lucy, before I realised it’s too abundant with you to be anything but natural —”


A lazy flick of Malfoy’s wand cut off Sirius's reply, the Silencing Charm taking instant effect. Lucius opened his mouth again to speak, but whatever words he might have said were ended before they even began by the opening of the wooden door once again.


“Lucius, have you seen –?” said a woman’s voice.


The door opened further to reveal a single figure cloaked in the long, black robes reminiscent of a Death Eater. Her hood was pulled over her head, keeping her identity a secret, but her voice sparked something in Sirius; it was a voice he’d heard before, though it had been nearly twenty years in the past. Soft, almost musical, it brought back memories of days with friends, all of them laughing together and long nights spent alone, just the two of them, sharing whispered worries and hidden fears that they kept secret in front of everyone else. Of course, the ideas that his mind was playing tricks on him, that he’d finally lost it or that she was an illusion of Malfoy’s, or even that she wasn’t really who he thought she was, were always possibilities.


But as she turned to face him, the candlelight hit her face just right, the hood unable to keep her identity in the shadows, and her name slipped from his lips without thought.


“Alex.”


Belatedly, as Alexandra Bonnet lowered her hood, Sirius realised that Malfoy must have removed the Silencing Charm, but he realised he didn’t much care. Alex’s face was framed by her long, blonde hair, the curly strands falling down her back as they were pulled free from the cloth. Her skin was mostly pale, with just a hint of darker colour, and icy blue eyes stared directly at him, meeting his own surprised gaze though revealing no emotion themselves. She stood tall and proud next to Malfoy, and it was easy to see the relation – they were cousins, after all. (Alex’s mother, Anastasia, had been Abraxas’s younger sister; she’d married into the Bonnet family of France (a pureblood family nearly as old as the Malfoys), though Alex had lived in Britain, attending Hogwarts as a Ravenclaw before leaving in June of 1979 and entering the war … on the side of the Order of the Phoenix.)


“Lucius, can you leave us alone for a moment?” Alex’s words tore Sirius from his memories for the time being, and he was slightly surprised to see Malfoy actually leave the room, taking only the briefest of seconds to whisper something to his cousin. The click of the door’s lock seemed to be the alert to start the conversation.


“Sirius –” whispered Alex, before Sirius's own words overrode hers.


“Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, his mind telling him an answer – but it wasn’t one he wanted to accept yet. Not until he heard it from her own mouth.


“I’m fighting a war,” she replied.


“With him?”


“The first time I picked a side, Sirius, I chose my friends, I chose love,” she muttered, her blue eyes flickering slightly with some sort of emotion before closing off entirely. “But the second time around, I chose family.”


“You’re a Death Eater.”


~**~



Author’s Note: There you have it, the ending of the first part. Now, there’s only two more parts to go – This is the longest Gauntlet entry I’ve written, as a matter of fact. Look for Part II, entitled Escapes, Poems, and Time Travel coming *very* soon. In the meantime, though, thank you very much for reading, and please don’t hesitate to let me know your thoughts on this first part.


~Megan
Part II: Escapes, Poems, and Time-Travel by megan_lupin
Author's Notes:
Summary: An old friend has returned, and she has her own story to tell Sirius. But can she be trusted? More poems are revealed, more hints and messages, but everything is just as confusing now as it was before. Will things start to make sense if both Alex and Sirius work together?

Author’s Note: Alright, here’s the second part, and it’s the longest of the three parts, coming in at nearly 6000 words. But I’ll let you get on with the story, so please enjoy Part II of Adoris Integare, entitled, Escapes, Poems, and Time-Travel.


~**~


Adoris Integare


By megan_lupin


~**~


Part II: Escapes, Poems, and Time-Travel


~**~



Alex hadn’t needed to reply; her silence and appearance were answer enough. Questions ran through his mind, each tumbling over the other so as to make it impossible for him to figure out which one – if any – that he wanted to ask first. Memories of the past added themselves to the questions in his head, as well, the most predominate one being that of a summer day, just months before everything had gone to hell.


“I’m leaving,” she whispered, all six of them gathered around the table at the Potters’ home. James and Lily, her large stomach clearly showing she was eight months pregnant, sat on one of the sofas, while Sirius and Alex occupied the other and Remus and Peter each took up an armchair. They’d grown close over the couple years of fighting, of facing death day in and day out, and Alex, though a year younger, had quickly become a part of their group of close friends that was nearly family.


“I can’t do this anymore,” she continued, her blue eyes not meeting any of their own gazes but rather remaining focussed on the mug in her hands. “I’m leaving the country, going to France, and I don’t know when – or if – I’ll be back … I just didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”


Silence had fallen then, leaving each of them in their own thoughts, for they had all thought of just running away at one point or another after joining the Order. But none of them had, and when it came down to it, they realised they wouldn’t be able to – or at least,
most of them believed that.


“Why?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but it echoed like he’d shouted the word.



And it was the same question he asked now.


“Why?”


The same question received the same response: a startled, surprised, “What?”


“Why’d you join them?” he asked, and then he just let the words tumble out. “Why’d you leave the Order? Why’d you go to France, all those years ago? Why are you here, now, talking to me?”


“Sirius,” she started, her voice soft yet still forceful and in no way meek. “It’s complicated –”


“No, damn it, Alex, it isn’t that hard!” he exclaimed, ignoring the pain in his wrists as the ropes cut deeper with his struggles. “You didn’t answer me before, so you can tell me the truth now –”


“Don’t you dare –”


“What’d they offer you?” he said, interrupting her threat. “Had you already joined them when you left, or did you leave to join them? Were you ever really one of us, Alex, or was your soul always as dark as the rest of them?”


A part of Sirius knew, upon looking at the witch in front of him, that he should probably stop there and not push things too far. After all, he wasn’t exactly in the best position for a fight with a half-educated child, much less a grown witch as skilled in duelling as Alexandra Bonnet. But, regardless of his nearly thirty-six years of age, he never had learned when to rein the anger in on his own (and no one was here to help remind him).


“But at least tell me this, Alex,” he muttered, ignoring the way her grip tightened on her wand and eyes turned cold. His own steel gaze met her icy stare exactly, not flinching, not blinking. They did say that eyes are the windows to the soul, right? – Was it possible, then, to lie through one’s eyes, or would the truth always be revealed there, no matter the words that came from one’s lips? Even as he spoke, though, Sirius didn’t have an answer, and for a moment, he wondered if he was only asking because he wanted to taunt the woman in front of him, wanted to somehow hurt his former friend – someone who could have, had fate dealt them all a better hand, possibly been something more.


“Does it make you feel important? Does it make you feel powerful?” And then, before he could stop himself, that final question came forth.


“Was it worth losing what you had?”


The curse came before the words had barely left his mouth, his position keeping him from dodging the jet of light as it hit his shoulder, creating a bleeding gash and causing him to hiss in pain. His mind preoccupied with the new wound, Sirius hadn’t noticed that Alex had moved from her position across the room to stand just feet in front of him.


“Don’t you dare presume to judge me,” she hissed, her face inches from his own. “You have no right, Sirius Black, not with the mistakes you’ve made in your past –”


“You think I don’t know my mistakes, Alex?” he said, a bit of humourless laughter escaping with the words. “You think they don’t haunt me every goddamn day, and you don’t think that if I could, I’d give anything to go back and fix them?”


Quiet descended on the couple for a brief moment, only the sounds of breathing and shuffled movements audible. Sirius tried to get in a more comfortable position, though it was made slightly more difficult – not to mention painful – by the wound on his shoulder. He paid little attention to Alex herself, though the anger radiating from the witch was vividly clear to any semi-intelligent being that happened to come into the room.


“I extended the courtesy to you years ago,” she said, coldly and concisely while rising from the chair that she’d taken after Sirius's last statement, “to not judge you from where you came from. I’d think the least you could do now, Black, is extend the same to me.”


Sirius snorted. “You don’t want me to ‘judge you,’ however much you deserve it, then fine. A confrontation isn’t exactly what I need right now, Alexandra Sofia Bonnet. But don’t you dare to tell me what goes on in my head until you’ve gone through hell as I have.”


He might have noticed the way Alex froze up at his words, not in shock or surprise, but like they had sparked a level of understanding in her, like they’d called forth a memory and in them lay the answer she’d been seeking. But Sirius didn’t notice, his attention instead focussed on the glinting, golden hourglass hanging from a thin chain around Alex’s neck.


“Where’d you get the Time-Turner?”


But it didn’t seem Alex had heard him. She was searching through the pockets of her robes, muttering phrases like “confronted by he who spent the peaceful years in hell” and others that didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t until Alex removed a piece of parchment from her robes and, staring directly at Sirius, said, “You’re Loyalty”, that a bit of understanding dawned on him, too.


“What?”


Alex opened the parchment in front of his face, showing him the images and words upon it, and he bit back a gasp of surprise.


All seven symbols of Recolitus Optimus were on the parchment, exactly as they’d been on his own, save for one change: While his had the symbol for Canis in the centre, Alex’s held that of Ursus, the Bear. The words, too, were changed. The first two paragraphs were identical to his own, but the last three, while with some similarities, were different.



Former Fire, who now in darkness dwells,
Will this night, with her past, confronted be
By he who spent the peaceful years in hell
And each will help the other to fully see.


In truth, Wise Loyalty as a team
Will achieve what one alone cannot.
And though many things won’t be as they seem,
Still other things will not be forgot.


The warning, too, for Wisdom goes –
Just as Loyalty has since been told –
Though many wrongs time can expose,
Without disturbance, some events must still unfold.




She still held the parchment in front of him for several moments, allowing Sirius to read through the poem multiple times before he lifted his gaze to meet her blue eyes. Alex’s face held little emotion; it was closed off and blank, a characteristic of hers for as long as Sirius had known the witch. He had no idea which emotion showed greatest on his face, but he would bet that confusion was dominant.


“Alex, where’d you get this?” he asked, settling for the first question that popped into his head.


Alex’s coldness seemed to have warmed up a (very little) bit; she wasn’t acting as hostile as she had directly after their argument, though the friendliness they’d shared nearly two decades in the past wasn’t anywhere near having returned, either.


“I received a message this morning,” she began, rolling the parchment back up and stuffing it into a pocket as she started pacing across the room. “I didn’t recognise the owl, and the only words on the message were just some cryptic type of riddle – ‘Midday the gold shines high, and only then will Wisdom know why’. I thought it was just some stupid joke or something and was about to toss it out when I saw the little symbol in one of the upper corners of the parchment; it was the same one that’s on the centre of this piece here, with the poem –”


“That’s for Recolitus Optimus’s Branch of the Bear, Ursus, meaning ‘Strength’ – It’s an ancient Order of the Wizarding World that was supposed to have died out years ago –”


“Yes, I knew I’d seen it before, I just couldn’t remember where,” said Alex, taking a moment and glancing at Sirius as if daring him to interrupt again. He shrugged – at least, as much as he could with his hands bound and a bleeding gash in one of his shoulders. “Anyway, I guess it was because of that that I didn’t get rid of it; for some reason, I just didn’t want to trash it yet, though I made myself put it out of mind all morning. It wasn’t until around noon or so that I remembered it again – and what I saw appear in my house at that time was what brought it back to mind.”


For a moment, Alex paused in her story, and Sirius didn’t make a noise to interrupt the silence that fell over the two of them. The candle’s flame was still flickering from its position on the nearby table, though the magical property of the candle kept it from melting, thus preventing Sirius from knowing exactly how much time had passed. Lucius still hadn’t returned, either (but Sirius was in no way wishing that fact would change any time soon).


“There was a woman just standing in the middle of my bedroom,” Alex continued, breaking the silence. “And I know I’ve never seen her before in my life; I had no idea who she was, but yet at the same time, I felt like I knew her … or like she knew me. She kept staring at me – or it even seemed like she was staring through me. It was like she could see something in me that I couldn’t, something I didn’t know was even there, and it was as if she connected with that part of me.


“I tried shooting a spell at her, but it just went right through her, like she wasn’t there. But she wasn’t a ghost, either; she was solid, or at least looked it. So I asked her why she was there, asked her what she wanted, and all she did was say the same words over and over – the poem there that’s on the parchment. She just kept repeating them, no matter what I asked her, before she cut herself off and looked directly at me again, saying ‘Find Loyalty’. When I asked why, all she said was ‘When Wisdom finds Loyalty, her task will truly begin’. And the next moment, she was gone, disappeared, like she’d never been there in the first place.”


No one spoke right after Alex’s pause this time. Alex had stopped pacing and returned to the chair she’d sat in earlier, while Sirius felt lost in his thoughts as he tried to digest the story he’d just heard. Though he didn’t want to believe it – It just isn’t possible, he thought – Alex’s tale had sparked Sirius's own memories of an event very much like this one.


“Alex,” he asked. “This woman … What’d she look like?”


The witch looked confusedly at him for a brief moment before answering. “She was pale, very pale,” she said. “Her hair was long, black, and straggly, while her eyes were like mine. But they were colder than any eyes I’ve ever seen,” she whispered. “Cold and dark, yet still beautiful … She looked like she could’ve been beautiful once.”


Unbidden, images rose to the forefront of Sirius's mind, images from memories nearly twenty years old. He’d only been seventeen at the time, but there was no way for him to forget her face as she stared out at him from the Chocolate Frog card, nor as she stood just metres in front of him and uttered the prophecy that he now fully understood, repeating it over and over without answering any of his questions. It hadn’t seemed to matter that the Dark witch, Melinda Maleficent, had been dead for a century.


But Sirius pushed the memories aside, deciding not to take up time now telling Alex who he thought her visitor had been. Instead, he latched on to the amount of understanding that he had gained from the story.


“So you think that I’m Loyalty,” he said.


“Who else fits with the poem?” barked Alex, sending him another of her customary glares. “And if you’re Loyalty, then that makes me –”


“– Wisdom.”


“Exactly.”


The conversation died out for barely a second before Sirius asked another question.


“The scroll, the one that has the poem on it, and the Time-Turner,” he said. “Where’d you get them?”


Alex glanced down at the hourglass swinging from her neck, its golden colour catching and reflecting the flame from the candle. “When I returned to the kitchen,” she started, “I found some things on the table. One was a bag that had several things inside, and beside it was the scroll; the other object was the Time-Turner.”


She took the mentioned object off and brought it closer to Sirius, dangling it in front of him to allow him to see it more closely. It looked remarkably like the one that was sitting in the brown satchel on the chair, save for one noticeable difference: Everything was reversed on it – what was on the right of his Time-Turner was on the left of Alex’s and vice versa.


“This isn’t like my Time-Turner …” he began, before Alex took it back and interrupted him.


“I know it isn’t,” she said, bringing the object up to look at it herself. “It doesn’t go backwards in time, Black … It goes forwards.” But before Sirius could comment on this revelation, Alex continued. “Wait a minute,” she said, raising her gaze from the hourglass and glaring at Sirius. “What do you mean, your Time-Turner?”


Inwardly, Sirius let loose a string of curses as he realised the slip of his tongue. She’s a Death Eater! She can’t be trusted! screamed a voice in his head. But then he thought of the poem, of the way he and Alex had interpreted hers to mean that they had to work together on whatever this ‘task’ happened to be. This is probably going to be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done, he thought, sighing.


Sirius told Alex everything.


----


When he was finished talking and Alex had put all of his items back in the satchel, she looked right into his eyes, blue meeting grey, and spoke.


“So, you think that whatever task we have to complete, it has something to do with travelling through time.”


Sirius nodded. “We both have Time-Turners, so it makes sense. And since yours brings someone forwards, then it probably involves travelling so far back that we can’t just let the time catch back up.”


“I think I might have an idea of where – or when – we have to go,” she whispered, resuming her pacing across the room. “But I don’t know why, if we can’t change anything …”


“What are you thinking?”


Alex sighed, deliberately keeping her eyes from Sirius's. “I can’t tell you now,” she muttered. “Later, I will, but first, I need to get you out of here before Lucius comes back.”


“And just how to you plan on doing that?” he asked, watching Alex as she paced back and forth. “It’s not like I can just walk out of this room, and do you even know where he is right now?”


Sirius saw Alex search through her pockets once again, revealing a small, compact mirror and, placing her wand tip to the glass, muttered a spell. “The second part we can solve right now,” she said, and at Sirius's look of confusion, she sighed. “Scrying spell, specifically tuned into Lucius but also anyone else with a Dark Mark near him.”


They watched as the glass of the mirror rippled and swirled, like it was made of water, before clearing to show what Sirius assumed was the main area of the pub they were currently inside. Lucius sat at a table near the front door, a drink in front of him and his eyes alternating between watching the door and glancing back into the corridor that led to the back rooms.


“Finite,” muttered Alex, replacing the mirror as the image faded away and approaching Sirius. “Well, it’s not going to be as easy as I’d hoped,” she said, moving behind him and starting to untie the ropes binding his hands. “He’s watching everything too closely for just a minor distraction to do the job, and there are too many others in the room just to force our way out. There.”


Sirius brought his hands back around in front of him, wincing slightly at the pain that shot through the wounds – both from the bonds and the gash on his shoulder. None of the cuts were fatally deep, of course, but that didn’t mean they weren’t painful. Rising from his position on the floor, Sirius grabbed his wand from the chair and with a few muttered incantations, the cuts were healed well enough for the time being.


He quickly gathered up the other objects on the chair, placing them either in the satchel or in his pockets, and turned back to face Alex, who stood in front of the door, her wand still drawn.


“Do you remember the way to that side door you entered the pub from?” she asked, and he shook his head before realising that she hadn’t been looking at him.


“No,” he said. “He Stunned me just after I’d entered and I woke up in here. Why?”


“Because that’s the only way we can both get out of here relatively unscathed, but the only way that I think it’ll work is if you leave Disillusioned while I’m distracting Lucius – he’ll be able to tell you’re there, charm or not, if he’s focussed – and then I can follow.”


A curse of frustration was on the tip of his tongue before Sirius cut it off, a possible – and very probable – solution occurring to him.


“I have an idea,” he said. “You can Disillusion me after I’ve transformed, and then I should be able to find the door by scent rather than sight. Everything else can work the same way.”


And as Sirius watched Alex think the plan over, twirling her wand in her fingers as she stared intently at the door, the years started to fade away, until it felt like none of the events of the past had happened. Alex wasn’t an enemy Death Eater he hadn’t seen in over a decade and someone whose trust wasn’t assured; she was a friend, a colleague, during a mission for the Order. She was someone that he would die for, just as she would be willing to die for him.


It was only her nodding response that ultimately broke him from his thoughts. “All right,” she said. “Transform, and we’ll do this.”


----


Nearly a quarter of an hour later brought both Alex Bonnet and Sirius Black to the opposite end of the town, glamour spells cast over both of them to alter appearances. Sirius, now significantly darker skinned with short, brown hair, sat next to a black-haired and tanned Alex, the two of them reading over several pieces of parchments atop a large book opened in their laps. A privacy spell also kept anyone from trying to scry their location.


“So, Alex, what was the idea that you had earlier?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them for the moment. “The one where you said you thought you knew where and when we had to go on this task?”


But rather than answer, Alex shook her head. “Not right now, Sirius,” she said, turning another page of the book and steadfastly keeping her gaze – now a dark brown – from Sirius's. “I don’t think you’ll like it, first off, but I will tell you if that’s the right answer … I just want to be sure before I say anything.”


Sirius was about to argue when Alex’s gasp of surprise cut the argument off in his mouth. “What?”


“I think I found something,” she muttered, turning the book so that Sirius could read it.


The page seemed newer than the rest of the book, almost like it was added after the tome had already been made and been through many hands for decades. It wasn’t nearly as crinkled, nor did the ink seem as faded as the rest. And the page was filled with the seven symbols of Recolitus Optimus, those of Canis and Ursus larger than the others and sharing the centre, a part of each linked with the other. Words, though few, were written above the two images:



Below the sight
Of Dog and Bear
Lies code to ignite
By fire and air.




“Great. More poems,” sighed Alex, tracing her hands over the symbols and words. “And that is supposed to mean, what, exactly?”


Sirius let the words of the poem reverberate in his head, his mind trying to come up with the right solution. It was on the tip of his tongue; he knew it this time, and suddenly, the answer arrived and it clicked.


“There’s a message or a code written below these symbols,” he said, pointing at the blank areas on the parchment beneath the two central images. “And we have to use both fire and air to show it.”


Alex looked at him, almost as if doubting his sanity, before she sighed and removed her wand, pointing it at the parchment. With a few muttered spells from both of them – a flame of fire from Sirius followed by a jet of air from Alex – more lines of text appeared below the two images, the writing of these words looking like a hastily scribbled note rather than part of the original manuscript.



Tell owner of Eagle’s Wings and Leprechaun Gold
That “Loyal Wisdom must know the bond foretold.”




The two of them glanced at the words for barely a second before they both turned to each other, identical smiles on their faces. This was one bit of rhyming that wasn’t difficult to figure out.


Alex and Sirius rose simultaneously from the bench they’d been on and quickly Disapparated, reappearing an instant later outside a building that seemed a bit run-down – and that was an understatement if there ever was one.


It was a miracle that the old pub, Eagle’s Wings and Leprechaun Gold, was still standing and still attracting some business. Absolutely filthy and in one of the worst areas of Wizarding Britain that it was possible to be, the pub had a very, shall one say, interesting history about it.


Therefore, it was with wands gripped tightly that Sirius and Alex entered the building together, their eyes scanning their surroundings and taking count of every exit, every possible avenue of either escape or cover, depending on what may be required. As the door shut behind him, Sirius followed Alex up to the bar, the complete emptiness of the pub unnerving him slightly.


When they reached the front, an aged wizard came forwards, his scarred hands twisting around the cloth he carried and a strong odour of very bad breath radiating from him.


“What’ll it be?” he croaked, his mouth seemingly in a permanent frown and his eyes staring unblinkingly at them.


“Loyal Wisdom must know the bond foretold,” said Sirius, speaking at Alex’s nod and returning the barman’s stare, his own gaze unfaltering. It was like trying to stare down a hippogriff, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he’d say that this particular wizard could have been Moody – The barman’s gaze was just as unnerving as being glared at with Moody’s magical eye was.


But the old wizard broke the staring contest faster than the eye could blink, and he reached under the wooden counter, removing a box and shoving it towards Sirius. He patted the top of it once with his hand, muttered “Two turns should do it”, and turned away, ignoring both Alex and Sirius as if they weren’t even in the room.


----


After leaving the pub, Sirius and Alex, both still under glamour charms, immediately sat upon a nearby bench and opened the box. Inside was another Time-Turner, but this one differed from both of theirs (although it had more in common with Sirius's than Alex’s). In basic appearance, everything seemed to be on the same side as Sirius’s, telling them that this Time-Turner went backwards just like most. The size of it, though, was triple that of a ‘normal’ Time-Turner. At nearly 15cm, the magical object took up nearly the entire interior of the box and weighed too much to be worn around the neck unsupported.


Sirius lifted the Time-Turner from the box and held it in his hands, running his fingers over it and examining every inch of the golden and glass surface that was connected to the thick, golden chain that Alex was weaving around her own fingers.


“Two turns, right?” he said, tearing his eyes from the object and meeting Alex’s gaze.


“Yeah,” she answered, throwing the chain around both of their necks. “You ready?”


He thought about the question for barely a moment, mentally making sure that he had his wand and all the other items that had been in the satchel. His own individual Time-Turner also around his neck, and Alex’s around hers as well, he nodded.


And after receiving a nod from Alex in return, he lifted the heavy Time-Turner, turned it around once – twice – and both Sirius and Alex disappeared from the bench in a swirl of colour, leaving no evidence behind that the two of them had ever been there.


----


If anyone had been looking into the large field, they would have seen two people materialise out of thin air, popping into existence in the blink of an eye. If they’d been watching, they would have noticed the two strangely dressed people – a man and a woman – stumble upon their arrival, the man barely managing to keep the woman from falling to the ground. If a person had been close enough to hear the two speaking, several muttered curses would have reached that person’s ears as the woman pushed away from the man, each sending a glare in the other’s direction as they did so.


“Still have trouble arriving without falling, Alex?” asked Sirius, the smile evident in his voice as much as on his face. He paid just as much attention to her returning glare and curse as he always had in the past – which was, of course, none at all.


“Do you have any idea where – and more importantly, when – we are?” she said instead, yanking the chain from their necks and motioning for Sirius to return the Time-Turner to the box.


He did so before placing the box in the satchel and looking around, his gaze taking in the sight of the large, wide open field that the pair was in, surrounded as it was by many trees. A bright sun shone from the highest point in the sky, signalling that it was nearly midday, and bathed them both in its golden warmth.


There was, however, no sign of any civilisation.


“I don’t know,” he said, still looking all around. “Time-Turners are supposed to bring you to the exact spot you left from, just a different time, right?”


“Yeah.”


“Then we had to have gone further back than just a few decades, since the town’s not here – nor is there any sign of a town around.”


“No sign that we can see, Sirius,” said Alex, her dark brown eyes staring pointedly at him. “Transform. See if you can tell anything as a dog that we can’t as humans.”


And so Sirius did, his sense of smell barely picking up a slight smell of people and animals – a home if not a town. He transformed back into himself. “There’s something to the west,” he said, pointing. “People and animals, though I can’t tell if it’s just a home or something more.”


“Better than just standing here, whatever it is,” she answered, and together, they headed off towards the west.


----


Sirius had no idea how much time had passed, though he figured at least a quarter of hour had elapsed since he and Alex had started leaving the field. They’d spent most of the journey in complete silence, each lost in their own thoughts, trying to connect their relationship of the past with that of the present.


“Alright, Alex, now you can tell me,” said Sirius. “Where did you think we had to time-travel to at first?”


Alex sighed but still didn’t answer, and it wasn’t until Sirius had opened his mouth, ready to stop her walking and demand an answer, that she did.


“I thought we’d have to go back to 1981,” she muttered, keeping her gaze towards the ground. “It was fourteen years to the day, and both of our poems seemed to hint at it, I thought. But then I didn’t understand why we’d go to then if we couldn’t change anything about what happened. And I didn’t want to tell you because I know how you still feel about James and Lily’s deaths, and –”


“Alex!” he interrupted her rambling, sighing himself as he stopped walking and saw her do the same. Neither met the other’s gaze, however. “I understand, and – I don’t – It doesn’t –” He sighed again as he tried to figure out what it was he was attempting to say. But no matter how hard he tried to figure out and organise his thoughts, it didn’t work. “No … Just forget it.”


“Sirius –”


“We’re here.”


Sirius was glad to see that his announcement had forced Alex to drop the topic. What happened fourteen years ago wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now, after all. So instead, he focussed his attention on the sights in front of him.


They were both on the top of a hill, looking down at a small village below. Brown and grey seemed to be the predominant colours in the scene, the buildings all made from either stone or wood and the roads a dusty, light brown. Thatched roofs covered the buildings, wooden carts stood along the road’s sides, and animals – mostly horses, Sirius saw – could be seen every once in a while, tied to a railing or bearing a rider.


“Um, Sirius,” started Alex, and Sirius turned to look at her. “I think we need to change; we’ll look a little out of place down there.” She motioned back down to the village, waving her hand in a sweeping action over the people. And Sirius, taking another closer look at the moving bodies below him, saw what she was talking about.


The Time-Turner had apparently hurled them back not just years or decades, but centuries – It had to be the Middle Ages or something, judging by the primitiveness of the village. Alex was indeed correct; they would look extraordinarily out of place in their 20th-century apparel. (Well, Alex would blend in better in her robes than Sirius would in his Muggle clothing, but neither of them would exactly be inconspicuous.)


“So we transfigure these clothes to fit in,” he said, waving his wand and demonstrating as he changed his jeans and shirt into something more befitting, removing his glamour as he did so; there was not really a need for it, considering he wasn’t a wanted criminal centuries in the past. Alex quickly did the same, and within a few minutes, the two magical visitors of 1995 looked like they belonged centuries in the past.


Together, the two of them made their way down to the village, careful not to draw attention to themselves. The locals paid them little attention, only occasionally glancing their way for a moment before returning to their own business. And as Sirius and Alex walked through the village, they tried to figure out what to do next.


“So, any idea what we’re supposed to do now?” said Alex, watching a brown-haired woman yelling at an enthusiastic toddler, his own brown hair bouncing upon his head as he ran away from his mother.


“I don’t really know, to be honest,” he responded, his grey eyes scanning through the crowd, taking in everything like a Muggle-born seeing Diagon Alley for the first time. “Those poems weren’t precisely clear on what this task is, and –”


He broke off as he caught sight of a figure standing not too far in front of him, sun shining down on the man’s smooth, bald head. The tall man’s dark skin contrasted heavily against the light colour of his clothing, light reflecting off of the single, gold hoop hanging in his ear. He didn’t look out of place in the least, but there was no mistaking who the man was – and Sirius knew that there was no way Shacklebolt should have been centuries in the past.


Damn.


~**~



Author’s Note: Well, the second part is finished, and now there’s just the third and final part in this adventure to go. Explanations are forthcoming, but will they be what Sirius expected? Find out in Part III, entitled, funnily enough, Explanations Given and a Task Completed that’s coming soon. For now, though, thank you for reading and please, let me know what you think!


~Megan
Part III: Explanations Given and a Task Completed by megan_lupin
Author's Notes:
Summary: Finally, the answers are given and everything is explained.

Author’s Note: Here it is – the third and final part of my Gauntlet V entry. A huge and wonderful “Thank You” goes out to red and gold for being a fantastic guide this time around, even when I was sending her 1000-word drabbles! But now, without further ado, I present for your enjoyment Part III of Adoris Integare, entitled, Explanations Given and a Task Completed.



~**~


Adoris Integare


By megan_lupin


~**~


Part III: Explanations Given and a Task Completed


~**~



Sirius immediately ducked off the main street and out of sight, grabbing Alex behind him. They had both barely made it behind a tall, nearby cart when Alex whirled on him, yanking her arm from his grasp as she did so.


“What are you doing?” she hissed, glaring at him.


But Sirius didn’t have a chance to answer her. He had barely opened his mouth to reply when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and a dark shadow was cast over both him and Alex. Eyes shutting and sighing, Sirius turned around to face the other wizard.


However, it was not Kingsley Shacklebolt that had approached him – at least, not directly. The man whose hand was on Sirius's shoulder was short, thin and blond, while Shacklebolt stood a few metres away, his dark eyes watching the scene with an expressionless face.


“Who are you?” said Sirius, but the blond man simply shook his head, before motioning back to Shacklebolt and increasing the grip on Sirius's shoulder. Sirius turned back to face Alex and together, they followed the man as he brought them towards the other Order member. Kingsley was the first to speak.


“Sirius,” he said, his voice low and rumbling.


“Kingsley.” Sirius motioned to Alex. “This is Alex Bonnet,” he said as the witch nodded and Kingsley returned the greeting.


“What’re you doing here, Kingsley?” asked Sirius.


The dark-skinned wizard motioned for the other man to leave the trio in private, and as he walked away, Kingsley led both Sirius and Alex to another path on the road, fairly deserted and a good place to have a conversation without great threat of being overheard.


“So you are the ones sent?” he asked, looking at the two visitors from the future for confirmation.


Sirius was confused, and a quick glance at Alex showed she felt the same. “What do you mean, sent?” he said. “Do you know what our ‘task’ is?”


Kingsley shook his head. “I was not told everything,” he muttered. “But I do know another step in the journey, if you will – or so I believe I do.”


“Which is … what?”


“Follow me, Sirius.”


----


The three magical visitors from centuries in the future walked down the empty path for nearly a half hour before they reached a large, stone building, its walls seeming to tower to the skies and the massive roofs held up by great columns. Large, oaken doors barred the entrance, but they were opened soon after Kingsley pounded upon them thrice. A small creature – it looked like a mixture of house-elf and goblin to Sirius – greeted them with a bow and led them down several long corridors and through many more doorways.


Upon entering the final room through silver-studded doors, the creature left the trio of wizards and witch with a bang – a lot louder than the tiny pop of a house-elf’s departure. Sirius's attention, however, wasn’t on the creature. His gaze was busy trying to take in everything in the wide and large room.


Inside, shelves upon shelves covered the floors, documents and scrolls littering the wood and everything else around. Some looked ancient, while others still had the ink glistening on the page as it dried. A few were unrolled, like they’d recently been read, while others seemed as if they’d been undisturbed for years, thick layers of dust having settled on top of them. A few quills also dotted along the tables.


Remus would love it in here, Sirius thought, his mind thinking back to his research-loving best friend. Remus had always loved finding the most obscure references that the others needed for a prank to be pulled off just the right way, or that one spell that would get the Map to do exactly what they wanted. A room full of historical documents such as this one, filled as it was with knowledge that had probably been lost through the centuries, would be a treasure.


But then his gaze returned to Shacklebolt and Alex, who were also both surveying the destruction of the room – for the multitude of scrolls lay as if a great wind had ripped through the room – and he sighed.


“So you’re saying that we have to fix all of this,” he said, staring at the others. “And without using a quick spell to do so, but in doing it, we’ll find out the next part?”


Kingsley nodded, having already told both Sirius and Alex what he knew: He had arrived a millennium in the past, in the year of 995, right outside the doors to this building. A cloaked figure had told him to go and wait in the town for two more visitors from his own time, who would be on a task, and together, they’d have to return here, help out the owners of the building without the use of magic, before the next part would be answered. The figure had shown Kingsley the room, just as torn apart as it was now, before leading him back to the centre of town to wait for the others.


“Yes,” he said.


“Well, then, we’d better split up,” said Alex, starting to head off towards the right of the room. “It should go quicker that way, I think.”


And so they did. Alex went right, Kingsley went further ahead, and Sirius walked opposite of Alex, each getting lost from the view of the others before long.


----


Time seemed to pass incredibly slowly, as far as Sirius was concerned, and with every scroll he placed on its proper shelf, the job never seemed to get any easier, the piles never seemed to decrease in size. For a moment, Sirius even wondered if the scroll piles were enchanted to never decrease.


But the wondering was torn from his head as he heard the approaching sound of footsteps among the scrolls. Tensing slightly as the sound increased – for the steps were too light to be Kingsley’s and too heavy to be Alex’s – Sirius dropped the documents he held in his hands and spun, withdrawing his wand immediately and pointing it directly in front of him, its ebony tip directed at the chest of the new figure.


Long, black hair curtained her gaunt and pale face, the dark strands contrasting greatly with her light skin tone, and icy blue eyes met his own grey gaze unblinkingly. Her thin form was instantly recognisable.


“Sirius Black.”


The fact that the figure had identified Sirius by name did nothing to calm him, for he, too, knew the identity of the woman. And there should have been no possible way for Melinda Maleficent, a Dark witch who hadn’t been born until 1799 and who Sirius already had previous memories concerning, to be with him once again, this time in the year of 995.


“What do you want?” he asked, his wand still pointing at Melinda.


The witch ignored the magical instrument and walked regally towards him, a smile lining her gaunt face. “Why don’t you put your weapon away, Sirius?” she asked, nodding towards the wand. “It will do you no good in here.”


Sirius adjusted his grip, but did not lower the ebony wood. “I said, what do you want?”


“Very well.” And with a flick of her wrist, the wand vanished from Sirius's hand, only to reappear in Melinda’s, who placed it in a bag hanging from her shoulder. “I do not wish to speak with you while you’re pointing a weapon in my face, Sirius,” she said. “Such is not the proper way to conduct a conversation.”


“I’m not usually in the habit of calmly conversing with Dark witches who shouldn’t even be alive yet,” Sirius responded. He hadn’t moved from his current position, not even when Melinda motioned for him to take a seat, and he kept his gaze focussed on her. A part of him briefly wondered where Kingsley and Alex were. Had they not heard the arrival of Maleficent?


“Your friends …” the witch responded, a slight sneer appearing as she uttered the word, “won’t be able to hear us,” she said, almost as if she could read Sirius's mind. “We are no longer in the same room as they.”


“What do you mean? Of course we –” But he broke himself off as he gazed around. Melinda was right. While the room still contained shelves upon shelves of scrolls and documents, everything was in perfect order, not a single thing out of place, and there were many pieces that hadn’t been present before. Several heavy, leather tomes had been added, the wood of the desks had been changed …


“Where are we?” he asked.


Melinda smiled. “Perhaps the correct question would be when we are, but the answer, Sirius, is unimportant. As I said earlier, I wished to speak with you, and I did not want to be interrupted.”


Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Melinda immediately silenced him – either with magic or something else, Sirius did not know.


“And I was including you in that statement,” she whispered harshly, her icy blue eyes glaring directly at him, just as they had so many years ago from a Chocolate Frog card in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was easy, when Maleficent appeared like this, how one could see her capable of orchestrating the Massacre of 1845 that resulted in the deaths of more than 400 people.


“Now, please, sit down.” Her voice was back to its kind tone, and she motioned once again towards the chair.


Sirius thought briefly of ignoring her, but then realised that acting like a rebellious teenager wouldn’t do him any good here. And so he took the seat.


With a nod and a smile, Melinda continued. “What do you know, Sirius, of your friends? The two you were with before in the Learning Chambers?” At Sirius's still-confused expression, the witch spoke again. “Do you believe you can trust them?”


Sirius was shocked into silence, an answer of “Yes, of course” wanting to come out of his mouth, but Melinda’s words had caused some of his previous doubts to return. About Kingsley, there was no question; Sirius knew he could trust him – the man was a part of the Order and keeping the Ministry from finding him, after all. He was intelligent and had a sense of right and justice that many seemed to lose as they climbed the ranks in the magical government. Dumbledore trusted him, and he was dependable; one couldn’t help but to trust the Auror –


But Peter was dependable once, too, hissed a vicious voice in his head. Sirius tried to block out the words – He didn’t need to hear it right now – but the voice wouldn’t disappear. He was a part of the Order and had Dumbledore’s trust before, you know, it said. Everyone couldn’t help but trust Peter, either … You did, and remember what happened –


His eyes squeezed shut, Sirius shook his head, as if the movement could physically knock the voice from his mind. It didn’t completely work, however. His thoughts had left Shacklebolt but had instead turned to Alex.


And Bonnet, the voice whispered, snorting. You should know that you can’t trust her anymore – probably shouldn’t have in the first place, all those years ago. She never did say how long she’d been a Death Eater, after all. Alex was probably never loyal to the Order … or to you. Sirius mentally screamed at the voice to shut up, to quit, but as it had done with Kingsley, the voice didn’t listen.


She was just acting for all those years, and you know it. And she’s acting again now, yet you just believe her again, following her to centuries in the past and accepting that she’s telling the truth about her ‘task’ – The sneer in the voice was obvious. Your poem said nothing about her, after all, and it was more than likely just by chance that the two of you met up again –


His thoughts were only broken when he heard Melinda’s voice.


“Do you believe, Sirius, that they are really helping you to complete this task that you are meant to do?” she said, leaning forwards in her own chair, her gaze never leaving his face. “Do you believe that your trust was not misplaced?”


Sirius, who had generally prided himself in the past on being sure of his decisions, couldn’t seem to erase the thoughts from his mind. There was a part of him that defended his friends – Kingsley was dependable and trusting, and there was no way that Alex had been a Death Eater before she left for France. But then that internal, damning voice would hiss the doubts at him again: And how well do you really know them? After all, Peter was dependable and trusting; there was no way you thought Peter would have been a Death Eater, either.


“I don’t know,” he muttered, sighing. “I don’t know anymore.”


Silence fell over both Sirius and Melinda after he had admitted to his doubts and confessed his fears. His head bowed and eyes focussed on the floor, Sirius did not see the small smile that crossed Maleficent’s pale face, disappearing almost as quickly at it had appeared. Nor did he notice as she rose from her chair, picked up the brown satchel that he had discarded before starting to work on organising the room, and began sifting through the objects within.


It was not until the Dark witch stood directly in front of him that he lifted his gaze and met her own, though with a motion of her hand, he brought his eyes downward to see the object that the woman held out before him.


Clutched in her hand, the topmost runes barely visible on the object, was the egg-shaped glass ornament that had originally sent Sirius on this entire journey he’d travelled. Light reflected off the glass – or what could be seen of it – and the etchings of the runes were clearer than ever before. Despite the fragile appearance of the object and its rough handling during Sirius's recent adventures, however, the glass remained perfect; not a single break or chip could be seen.


Sirius's gaze drifted from the object and back up into Melinda’s face, his stare meeting her blue orbs unblinkingly.


“Take it,” she whispered, extending her hand once again and nodding. “You have a task to complete, Sirius, and you are now ready to do so.”


“What are you talking about?” he asked, jerking back the hand that had, subconsciously, risen to hover just above the glass egg. “I just confess to not being able to trust my friends, and you say that that makes me ready to accomplish this ‘task’ – whatever it is? I thought Alex and I were supposed to do it together? And why should I even trust what you say to me?”


Melinda did nothing but maintain her glare, her eyes hardening only slightly as she looked at Sirius. “Yes, Sirius,” she said. “Certain things had to be accomplished before you were ready for the next part –”


“But I thought –”


“The preparation was never in organising a room, Sirius,” interrupted the witch, shaking her head as if amused at the entire situation. “All of the travelling through time was never the ultimate goal of your journey, but you had to overcome certain obstacles before that final step could be taken. And you have done so, Sirius.”


Sirius knew his confusion showed clearly on his face, knew Melinda could tell every thought that floated through his mind, every emotion that he felt. “So what was the point of all the different Time-Turners if we weren’t meant to do it all?” he asked. “What was the point of having Alex come along, if the ‘task’ was only my own to complete?”


“Your female friend, Alexandra, played her own part in the matter,” she answered. “The ultimate end to the task was yours, that is true, but her poem was correct when it said that both of you would be needed to complete it. And as for the Time-Turners, Alexandra was quite close in her own ideas about what the ‘task’ was, though not truly in the way that she believed.”


“What –” But Sirius didn’t need to finish his question, memories of what Alex had said earlier already floating to the forefront of his mind as an answer. “I thought we’d have to go back to 1981.” Fourteen years, she had said. Fourteen years to the very day. And the whole thing had started with him awakening from a nightmare about that night. “She thought we’d have to go back to Halloween,” he muttered.


A slight nod from Maleficent told Sirius that he had answered correctly. “You had to overcome the desire to change what cannot be changed,” she whispered. “Before you could move on, before your journey could end, you had to accept that what happened fourteen years ago should not be altered.”


Sirius opened his mouth to disagree, to tell the witch that she didn’t understand, that what happened shouldn’t have occurred and that it, more than anything, should be changed – but she silenced him just as she had before, continuing on as if nothing had changed.


“And you did,” she said. “You had everything at your disposal to go back to that night and try to stop what happened.” She motioned to the Time-Turner still hanging around his neck. “That object goes back seven years for every turn. Two turns would have taken you to 31 October 1981. Alexandra’s works the same way, only it takes you forwards, so you would have been able to return to the present just as easily.


“But you did not take that path.”


“Only because I didn’t think of it!” Sirius exclaimed, slumping down in the chair he’d abandoned earlier and placing his head in his hands. “The idea never even entered my mind; I didn’t interpret the poems the same way Alex did! I didn’t do anything only because – because –”


“You didn’t do anything, Sirius,” she said, “because deep down, no matter how much you wish differently, you know that meddling with Time can sometimes bring results that are more disastrous than the original events created. You understand that some events must still unfold without disturbance …”


Sirius's mind wandered as Melinda Maleficent kept talking. Her last words had brought back earlier memories of the night, of the poems that he and Alex had received, of the warnings inherent in both of them to not interfere with certain things –


“That’s why you added the warnings,” he said, cutting the witch off in her statement. She turned her blue gaze to him, and he elaborated. “The poems you sent – they had advice about not interfering with the past. They were there in case we decided to go back.”


A long moment passed after Sirius spoke when Melinda didn’t respond at all – not a word, not a movement, not a sigh. Sirius was just about to open his mouth to continue when she answered with a very slight, almost-impossible-to-see nod of her black-haired head, before silently holding out her hand again, revealing the glass egg just waiting for him to take.


And, exhaling as he rose from the chair, Sirius reached out his own hand and picked up the object, the same bright, white light of before encompassing both him and the room before he disappeared.


----


When Sirius next opened his eyes, it took him awhile to realise that he had done so, for no sight greeted him. He was surrounded by pitch-black darkness, barely able to see his own hand as he held it out in front of him. Blinking, he tried to make his eyes adjust to the blackness. Sirius stubbornly pushed back the memories and fear that threatened to rise up and paralyse him as he stood there – an effect of twelve years trapped in the heavy and unyielding darkness of Azkaban where even the smallest of lights, if it somehow managed to penetrate the shadows, barely lasted a second before being overcome again.


But not even the warmth of wherever-he-was was enough to completely calm him, and a moment later, Sirius had changed into Padfoot, the dog not feeling the fears in the same way his human counterpart did.


He walked forwards, not really having any sort of destination in mind – It’s not like Maleficent told me what to do here, he thought – but moving felt marginally better than standing still. It at least made Sirius feel like he was doing something, at any rate. He had no idea where he was, and nothing had appeared that gave him any type of hint to figure the entire puzzle out. Supposedly, this was the last part of the task, the final step in his journey.


Sirius was unsure of how much time passed before he froze, his eyes catching a brief glimpse of what looked like a light shining through the darkness. It looked no brighter than a candle flame, but somehow, the twinkling, white tongue of fire seemed to penetrate the dense blackness like something ten times its size would. He felt a mixture of hesitancy and joy at the image, but he quickly pushed the conflicting emotions aside and ran towards the light, Padfoot’s four legs getting him there in barely a moment.


Upon reaching the white flame, Sirius transformed back into himself and, giving in to the compulsion to throw caution to the winds, tentatively reached out a hand to hover it over the fire. The fire did not feel like he’d expected it to: it wasn’t hot and burning. It felt cold, like ice, yet it wasn’t painful in the least. Rather, the feeling of the light was cool and refreshing, like it was just the very thing he had needed and longed for, though he had been unaware of it until now. A great calmness washed over him, his entire body feeling a peace that he knew he hadn’t felt in years. Every last part of his earlier fears was swept away, pushed from his mind almost as if they had never been there.


He didn’t even realise that he wasn’t alone.


“It feels good, doesn’t it?”


Jerking his head around and withdrawing his hand suddenly from the fire, Sirius laid eyes on the owner of the voice.


She was a young girl, her hair almost as white as the flame in front of them and shining like the full moon would on a clear night. Her skin was completely opposite in colour from her hair, for it was darker than even Kingsley Shacklebolt’s. Large, silver eyes, stared up at him, meeting his own surprised gaze unblinkingly. Thin and short – she couldn’t have been older than seven or eight years old – the small child nevertheless seemed almost as knowledgeable as Albus Dumbledore.


“What?” he asked, startled.


“The Adoris Integare,” the child replied, lifting a hand to point a small finger at the white flame. “The Healing Flame.”


Sirius turned back to face the fire, his eyes resting on its flickering light. A tiny part of his mind vaguely recalled there having been legends of just such a thing, though the number of versions of the tale all differed on what, precisely, the powers of the Adoris Integare were, and it had been so long since he’d heard any of them that Sirius couldn’t recall anything other than the fact that legends had existed. As for what those legends told – any of the versions – the Animagus had no idea.


He stared into the flame’s depths, his gaze seemingly drawn to the very centre of the fire, and what he saw within made him jump back in surprise.


Swirling and twisting in the deepest, central part of the flame had been black smoke that was curled tightly into the shape of a round, solid ball. Tendrils of the smoke tried to separate from the main entity every once in a while, their strands stretching out like snakes as they sought freedom from both the rest of the smoke and the fire itself. But even the ones that reached the furthest, the ones that were the closest to achieving their escape, were pushed back into the centre by the fire before it could penetrate the outside of the flame.


“Don’t worry,” said the girl again, her voice startling Sirius. “It won’t escape again.”


“What is it?” His gaze was still focussed on the smoke, entranced as he was by its constant bids for freedom.


“Well, it’s not so much of a ‘what’ as it is a ‘who’, I think.”


“What do you mean?”


The girl didn’t reply right away, and her silence made Sirius turn back to face her. Only when she had his constant gaze did she answer. “It’s you, Sirius Black,” she said. “Or, I suppose I should say that it was you.”


Sirius had no idea how much time passed while he just stood there, staring at the small child in front of him. To say that he was confused would have been a grand understatement, as far as he was concerned. His eyes only broke away from the girl to glance back at the flame and the smoke within – which, he was surprised to see, seemed to be shrinking ever so slowly – before they refocused on the child.


“Me?” he said, finally finding it in him to speak. “How?”


She nodded. “It was the malignant part of your soul,” she said. “It was the part that felt all the guilt, all the shame, all the helplessness. It held the fears and powers that paralysed you before, earlier in the entryway, and it was the part whose strength was gained by nothing but hatred and a desire for vengeance. It was the part of you that was destroying you from the inside, so to speak.


“And it had to be removed so that you could be healed.”


----


When Sirius next looked back at the smoke, he saw that it had almost completely vanished. Only a ball the size of a marble remained within, and even as he watched, it became smaller and smaller until, with a poof, it disappeared, leaving the white flame as clear and bright as when he first saw it.


“Congratulations, Sirius Black,” said the girl, and Sirius tore his gaze from the fire. She had a large smile on her face and her eyes twinkled, the entire appearance making her look like a child would who awoke on Christmas to find an entire room filled with gifts and all of them addressed to her. Sirius couldn’t help but smile back at her, even as he pushed some of her earlier words to the back of his mind – He’d think about them later, he figured.


“Your journey – and your task – is complete.”


With that, the girl handed him the objects that had, somehow, appeared at her feet the very moment she had finished speaking. (Or, if they’d been there earlier, Sirius hadn’t noticed.) He looked down at the objects he now held.


In one hand was the glass egg, the runes having faded to the point where they were barely visible, while in the other hand, he held the old parchment that he’d received in the very beginning of his journey – the parchment that so closely resembled the Marauder’s Map, save for the identification charms they had used. As he watched the lines stretch over the map in black ink, he also saw a clear line of bright, red ink trace a path through the drawn corridors, a matching version appearing at his feet and stretching out in front of him.


“Just follow the red line,” the girl whispered, “and you will be able to return home.”


“And the glass egg?” he asked, holding the object up.


The girl just smiled at him. “You need something to remember that this wasn’t a dream.”


----


A sound of someone knocking on his bedroom door first tore Sirius Black from his sleep. Though normally a very heavy sleeper – on the nights that he did manage to sleep well – the light sound was enough to return the nearly thirty-six-year-old to consciousness. Rolling over in his bed, he faced the door, opening his eyes just in time to see the wooden barrier swing inwards and Remus Lupin enter the room.


“Sirius?” he asked. “Are you awake?”


“Yeah,” said Sirius. “Just woke up, why? What time is it?”


Remus glanced at his watch. “It’s almost lunch,” he answered. “Which, by the way, is ready downstairs, and Dumbledore’s also called an Order meeting for later this afternoon.”


Sirius nodded. “Thanks,” he said, sitting up and rubbing the remainder of sleep from his eyes. “I’ll be down in a minute.” As a giant yawn escaped him, Sirius almost missed the concerned look that his best friend shot him, but was able to catch a glimpse of it before Remus could fully hide it.


“What’s wrong?”


Remus opened his mouth, almost like he was about to say something, but then shook his head, thinking the better of it. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Never mind, Padfoot. I’ll see you in the kitchen.” And he turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.


After Remus left, Sirius shook his head, sighing slightly at the still unsolved mystery that was Remus Lupin. He threw back the blankets on his bed, and was about to stand when a tiny, twinkling light caught his eye.


Turning back to face his bedside table, he saw the small, egg-shaped glass object, its runes etched cleanly into the smooth surface, the noon sunlight streaming through the opening in his curtains to reflect off of the dust-free ornament.


~**~


THE END


~**~



Author’s Note: All right, there it was! Thank you so very much for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed it. I had a LOT of fun writing this story, especially since Sirius didn’t argue with me too much throughout the writing. Once again, a “Thank You” goes to Andi, for being such a fabulous guide on this Gauntlet!


~Megan
This story archived at http://www.mugglenetfanfiction.com/viewstory.php?sid=77275