Sirius tore through the atrium, carefully dodging the people who could not see him; he did not want to risk the fact that they might be able to feel him if they collided at speed. Something, however, caught his eye. He skidded to a stop in front of a gigantic black statue. He was absolutely certain that this had not been in here when they had come through earlier. There had been a statue, a fountain, he recalled dimly; he had not paid close attention to it, but that one had not been dark. It had filled the dark atrium with dapples of light as the water had reflected off the shining metal.
He looked up at the enormous sculpture and saw with disgust that a haughty looking witch and wizard were sitting on a grotesque pile of human bodies, their features twisted and contorted so that they would have looked almost comical if it were not for the symbolism.
Sirius’s attention was then drawn to the words beneath.
Magic is Might? That surely was verging on Death Eater ideals. His suspicions were confirmed, something Dark was going on here; it looked like it had started already. Was Fudge still Minister? He was an idiot, for sure, but Sirius had trouble imagining that this commission had come from him. And what about the conversation he had overheard between Yaxley and Thicknesse? Thicknesse had urged Yaxley to call him Minister, but he could not have simply taken power like that. Maybe Fudge had been Imperiused, and they were acting through him.
Sirius shook his head, he was resigned to the fact that he had been out for some time down in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries, something had happened when he fell through that veil, the evidence was too strong to ignore. But the question was what? Who knew what Harry and the others had been doing in the other rooms, what they had broken, or dislodged down there, and had caused this strange rift in time. The most important thing now was to relay to Dumbledore what he had witnessed; the other questions he was burning to ask could wait. This was far more important.
He had once told the Weasley twins that being in the Order was more important than anything, and now that was being tested. However strong his impulse was to go and find Harry and make sure he was alright, he knew that the Order had to come first. There would have been a time, long ago now, when he would have cast something like this aside if he thought one of his friends was in danger. But that impulse had weakened when he joined the real world, and saw how things really were. Saving people’s lives was more important than checking up on a friend. Anyway, there had been numerous Order members there, and even Dumbledore himself, they would take care of him, wouldn't they? He shook his head angrily to rid himself of this thought, and the guilt of doubt that was becoming to creep on him. Moony was with them, he would take care of Harry and the others. He was sure of it.
Casting one last disgusted look at the gruesome statue, he turned on the spot, and vanished, reappearing only a second later in the leafy square outside number twelve, Grimmauld Place, a place whose former inhabitants would surely have approved of the statue he had just been staring at, and what it implied. He charged up the steps, and threw the door open and almost fell into the hall, tripping over the troll leg umbrella stand, which crashed to the floor.
Promptly, the curtains covering that detested picture of his late mother flew open, and she began to scream.
‘DISGUSTING MUDBLOODS AND HALF-BREEDS PLOTTING AGAINST THE DARK LORD!’ she screeched. ‘INCESSANT MUTTERINGS AND PLANNING! I WILL NOT TOLERATE IT!’
‘Oh shut up, you old hag!’ Sirius roared, as he massaged his painful leg. He hobbled over to the curtain and managed, after a struggle, to wrench it shut, and peace was restored. He limped towards the door at the end of the hall, cursing both the troll leg and his mother, and down the stone steps to the kitchen, the place where Order members were most likely to be. The door to the kitchen stood open, and Sirius could see that it was empty. That was strange, he thought, slightly unnerved. He also noticed that the place seemed to have undergone a thorough cleaning, the pots and pans hanging from the walls had been polished to a shine, and the long table had been scrubbed and waxed. However, this seemed to have been done some time ago, as there was a thin film of dust covering every surface.
Shrugging this off, he traipsed back up the steps, assuming that everyone was in a different part of the house, but his quick search was fruitless. Each of the rooms seemed to have been cleaned within an inch of its life, but all bore thin covering of dust; evidently this house had been uninhabited for some time.
Perplexed, Sirius threw himself onto his four poster bed, wondering what on earth could be going on. Had something happened to time, or was it just him? Was it Dark Magic? And why couldn’t anyone see him? He was beginning to realise that this was the most worrying thing, if nobody could see or hear him, how could he relay what he knew to the Order? How could he communicate to them? What good could he do, if he could not warn them?
He needed Dumbledore; the man was so extraordinary it wouldn’t surprise him if he alone could see him. It was worth trying, he needed to know what was going on, what was happening, and most importantly he needed to tell Dumbledore what he had discovered. He would have to go to Hogwarts.
He sighed, casting his eyes wistfully at the photograph stuck to the wall. Four beaming teenage faces grinned back out at him, almost in mockery of what he had become. He didn’t like going back there, to the school. It reminded him of when he had been young and carefree; in stark contrast to the man he was now. While he was there, there were constant reminders of the adventures he and his friends had undertaken, alive with excitement, the fun they had had together, but most of all, it reminded him of James. When he had been there after his escape from Azkaban, just walking down the corridors had been painful, he could almost hear the ghosts of themselves as they laughed and joked their way to their next classes about their latest adventure at full moon, or James’s most recent failure in asking Lily out. No, he did not like going back to that place, but there were things more important than his pain, he reminded himself of his earlier internal battle.
With a sigh, and a last glance at the photograph, he got off his bed and turned off the spot, vanishing into thin air.
A Stone From the Riverbank by Sapphire at Dawn
Chapter Notes: Thanks to my betas harrypotter627 and katie616!
Chapter Endnotes: Thanks for reading, please review and tell me what you think!