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The Moment That Would Need Changing




Liam Harding’s greatest fear in the world entire was snakes. And this one was a particularly terrible snake. It twisted and tightened around Liam’s narrow body, slithering and hissing until it’s forked tongue flickered against his face, its coils about his torso and his neck. Liam was paralyzed with the fear of it, his mind screaming out as tears poured from his eyes, his hands shaking… Voldemort laughed, leaning closer and he sing-songed, “Hissy hissy, little snakey…” the words barely a breath, using legilimency to peek into the images of Liam’s mind stealthily…

But then something caught his attention. Another flash - a house, a small, destroyed house behind a large wall of hedge… and a voice…

”That’s where the crazy man lived. The crazy snake man. Legend has it that he could sing to snakes, in the snake language… he would sing and they would obey him…”

Voldemort turned, his entertainment in Liam spent, and he stared into Wally’s still face, undulating like his snake as he stood before Wally. He hissed, too, and he leaned closer and he whispered, “The house in your mind… why is it there?”

Wally looked confused. “The - the house?”

“The house of the crazy snake man?”

“Just a story… a thing kids talk about back home… stupid, really… you know, legends and that. Like the Riddle House. Just silly legends is all.”

Voldemort hissed. “What do you know of the Riddle House?”

Wally stared, confused. He looked at Severus, who raised his eyebrow for Wally to go on and tell the Dark Lord what he wanted to hear, and Wally said in a hurried voice, “Dunno not tons, they was murdered all of them, the whole family and a load of servants… Nobody never was found guilty for it, nobody ever figured out what it was that killed them anyway! The groundskeeper Frank Bryce is the only one that’s alive there still and he guards it like mad, keeps all us kids out with his shotgun. But his legs are bad, see. He was in the war. But the big kids, they’ll pay a couple quid to go up and touch the house or to steal a trinket or whatever, and --”

Rage surged through the Dark Lord, “You’ve stolen from the Riddle House?!” he bellowed and his face reddened deeply and he switched his wand as though he were brandishing a whip. “CRUCIO!!!!”

And Wally fell to his knees… screaming.




Regulus Black stood at the top of the stairs with his brother, the others were working out a plan to levitate Charlus out of the dismal hole. Sirius stood facing his brother, their shoulders pressed to the door. He took a deep breath and reached up to dust some straw from Regulus’s shoulder, where it had been stuck since he’d first arrived. He stared at him for a long moment. “Little brother…” he started, then he paused, biting his lip.

Regulus stared up at Sirius.

“You’d best be careful.”

Regulus nodded, “Of course.”

Sirius put his other hand on Regulus’s shoulder so that he was holding him, staring into his eyes for a long moment, then he dropped his hands away, unable to form the words to say what he felt. He took a deep breath.

Regulus felt a dull ache, wishing Sirius had said the things in his eyes. But the words did not come and Regulus looked down after a few moments. He reached down and carefully rolled the sleeve of his jumper up so that his Dark Mark showed, black and horrible, and he saw Sirius’s eyes flicker to it. He looked up. “I didn’t ask for the Mark, Sirius.”

Sirius didn’t answer.

He paused, “Sirius.”

Sirius’s eyes met Regulus’s again.

“I lo--” And suddenly Regulus understood why Sirius hadn’t said it. He didn’t know how to, either.

Sirius nodded and reached ‘round to tug Regulus closer - and they hugged awkwardly, Sirius patting Regulus’s back before he pulled away. When they were finished he reached for the handle of the door. “Ready?”

Regulus nodded.

“Alright.” Sirius pushed the door open. “Out you go, then.”

And Regulus took a deep breath and stepped through into the little hall that led from the dining room into the kitchens. One of the house elves passed by, scurrying along, carrying a tray, looking up at Regulus in confusion. Regulus turned and followed the elf into the dining room and found he was serving tea to the people seated about the table: Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange, and Narcissa, Lucius, and Abraxas Malfoy. They were leaning together, talking in low voices. Narcissa noticed him first and she sat up slowly, drawing away from the conversation. It took a moment, but the next to look up was Lucius, noticing his wife had pulled back, and he cleared his throat, “Mr. Black,” he said, smiling at Regulus, a twitch of confusion to his eyebrow, “What are you doing here?”

Regulus said, “I would like to speak with the Dark Lord.”

Bellatrix stood up, wobbly on tall heeled boots as she walked around the table, staring at him, her hair thick and tall, she clutched the high back of the chair closest to where he stood. “Is this about the recruits that Severus has brought?” she asked in a wavering, low voice. “These… new… Death Eaters? These ickle Knights?”

The first years. Severus Snape is here with the first years. He had to box that thought away in his brain quickly to keep his face from reacting to it. He nodded slowly. “Yes,” Regulus said, “It’s about them.”

“Who are they?” Abraxas asked.

“Children,” hissed Bellatrix, “I told you Abraxas.”

Narcissa’s eyes flashed with concern.

“But who are they?” Lucius demanded.

Regulus said, “That is something you’ll need to come to -- to the meeting we’re holding to see.” He cleared his throat. “Didn’t Severus tell you about the meeting?”

“You are calling a meeting?” Bellatrix giggled, laughing with a manic air so that her whole body shook and wobbled on her heeled boots and she fanned herself in mirth, “Oh that is adorable, you precious little thing!” and she came ‘round the table and patted the top of Regulus’s head with a grin, her fingers running through his hair as though he were a toddler announcing he was going to fly an aeroplane. “Did your new Mark go to your ickle head? Do you think you are a big, big boy now?”

Regulus grit his teeth. “If that’s what you think, then don’t come. Don’t be involved. It’s your choice.” He looked toward the hall, “Are they in there already?”

And then - as if to answer the question - there came a scream from down the hall. A horrible, twisting gut-wrenching scream that sent a shiver of terrific horror down Regulus’s spine. If his jaw had not already been clenched, he might have lost it and screamed too with the horrible flashbacks that screaming gave him...

Narcissa’s neck twisted fast to look at the hall.

“Let’s go.” Regulus said and he waved his hands for the Death Eaters about the table to go and, reluctantly, they went. Rudolphus raising slowly, an almost liquid sort of motion. Abraxas and Lucius went first, Narcissa following along, her hand in Lucius’s hand, her face pale and the fingers of her other hand rolling the pearls at her neck. Bellatrix stared at Regulus for a long moment before finally turning and walking with a quick gait across the room, practically skipping ahead of them, excited by the screams that were echoing through the house, her eyes dancing with amusement. Rudolphus waited at the door to the corridor, staring at Regulus as the screams continued from down the hall - agonized, horrible screams.

Someone was being tortured.

“Sounds like one of yer little friends has displeased our Lord,” Rudolphus sniggered.

Regulus didn’t know how to answer, so he stood there. He wanted Rudolphus to go first, so he could give the signal, but Rudolphus wasn’t budging. They stood, both waiting for the other to move.

“Does it bother you?” Rudolphus asked, “That screaming? That pain?” A horrid grin crossed his mouth.

Regulus’s stomach was turning because of it. It reminded him of Sirius. He could still hear his brother’s pleas in his memories.

“No,” he lied. Then, because Rudolphus was clearly not going to go down the hall until Regulus did - he said, “Snuffles.”

Rudolphus stared at him, “Excuse me?”

“Just clearing my throat.” Regulus stepped into the hall quickly.

Rudolphus stepped after him, pausing, looking back over the dining room with suspicious eyes a moment, and backed away down the corridor.

In the doorway to the house elf quarters, Sirius turned around, looking down the stairs. “Alright lot… Let’s go.”

They moved Charlus slowly, coming up from the elf quarters in one group, the elf Dobby watching and following them as far as the top of the stairs, nervously staring after them as they made their ways across the dining room.

It would be this moment - this moment specifically - that would need changing.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

The spell was shot so suddenly - so fiercely - the green sparks shot across the room. Rudolphus Lestrange had come ‘round the corner of the corridor, out from the shadows he’d been lurking in, out from the dark. He’d leaped into the dining hall, his suspicions confirmed, his wand waved before he’d even completed the turn - not aiming for any particular member among the figures walking across the hall - simply throwing the spell and hoping for the best…

Sirius saw it in slow motion.

He heard the words as though they were shouted underwater and his head turned and he saw James look up - saw the sparks glowing green in the reflection of his best mate’s eyes…

Sirius reacted… his feet digging on the wood as he spun about his direction and he threw himself for James, grabbing onto James’s arms.

He’d seen James Potter lying dead once - he would not see it again.

He refused.

And so he stepped between James and the sparks…

He was staring into James’s eyes for a second... and all the world seemed to pass between them, a hundred thousand words exchanged in the nanosecond of time in which Sirius Black stared into James Potter’s eyes before the spell hit him square in the back as he fell forward, the breath blasted from his lungs, the light in his eyes bright and then --

All hell broke loose.

There was screaming.

Loud, heartbroken, gutted screaming.

James could hear it, and the voice was familiar, the voice that was screaming... but he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that it was his voice, that it was him screaming, even as he could feel his vocal chords vibrating, even as Harold Minchum stepped around him, still wobbly in foot and began firing spells back - even as Rudolphus Lestrange was joined by the others - as his mum came to his side, begging him to come along, as Lily Evans let out a shriek and only just missed being hit by the same spell that Sirius had been… There was Minchum, pulling James from the floor, and Sirius’s body slipping away and James grappling at the air, screaming for him, trying to pull out of Minchum’s grasp… and there was this unexplainable moment when the fireplace blew up with great green flames and there were Ned Veigler and Albus Dumbledore and bits and pieces of the Resistance… Bilius Weasley and Ted Tonks, there was Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Prewett twins… and sparks everywhere… green sparks and red sparks and white sparks and exploding snapping shields and there was Regulus and Bellatrix and the Malfoys and Voldemort himself and so … so much was happening…

But James could only see Sirius Black, laying dead on the floor, half beneath the table, his eyes glassy and unseeing. And he fought - he fought, trying to get back to him. “NO!” he screamed, “NO! SIRIUS GET UP! SIRIUS! NO!” And Harold Minchum kept his arm firmly ‘round James’s chest and James screamed all the more, even as Minchum forced him into the arms of Albus Dumbledore and he felt himself jostled and pushed until he was standing in the hearth, Dumbledore’s arm wrapped firmly about his chest, holding him in place, and Dumbledore shouted, “MY OFFICE!” and the entire scene was gone in a flash of brilliant green flame.

James was still screaming, even as Dumbledore released him and he stumbled across the office, slamming into a small table and knocking it over… silver instruments spilled across the floor. He caught himself and he turned back. “TAKE ME BACK!”

“I’m sorry, James, I cannot.”

“DUMBLEDORE, TAKE ME BACK!” James hollered, “MY FAMILY! MY FAMILY… AND LILY! DUMBLEDORE… SIRIUS! SIRIUS IS DEAD! SIRIUS IS -” he was struggling for the Floo. “TAKE ME BACK! TAKE ME BACK!”

But Dumbledore held out his arm, barring James from the hearth with more strength than anyone would expect a man of his age to possess. Dumbledore’s jaw quaked and he looked James in the face. “Mr. Potter,” he said, “Come, come. Have a seat. We need to have a talk, you and I.”

“ARE YOU MAD? MY FAMILY IS BACK THERE! MY FAMILY, YOU OLD FOOL! MY ENTIRE FAMILY - EVERYONE THAT I LOVE - AND --”

“James! Please!” Dumbledore motioned to the chair, “Will you please, listen to me?”

“THEY NEED HELP!! AND WE CAN’T LEAVE SIRIUS’S BODY! WE CAN’T LEAVE -- THEY’LL DO TERRIBLE THINGS TO IT! DUMBLEDORE! TAKE ME BACK!!!”

Dumbledore stared at him for a long moment as James raged on, and finally, he said, low - calm - “Mr. Potter. We are going to fix all of that. If you will just have a seat, please. Please. We’re going to have a little talk, James, about the mystery that is time. Please. Sit.”

James stared at him, shaking. “But --”

“James. Sit down.”