The Brightest Black

She turned to cast a spell, twisting on her broom. Abruptly her world was filled with orange and then pain - so much pain. She screamed as her skin felt like it burst into invisible flames. As if a million ants were biting her at once.

She dropped her wand and began ripping at her robes. Oblivious to the fact that she was now plummeting towards the ground. There was nothing in her world but the burning, itching skin.

Arms wrapped around her, pushing her into the broom, trapping her hands. She shrieked louder and threw herself against the arms, trying to break free. She had to reach her skin. Only then could she put out the flames.

She was rolling across the ground, the arms still around her. She shrieked and tried to push them out of the way.

It burned.

It burned so bad.

The hands moved out of her way and then started helping her. Within moments her own hands were on her bare skin and she was scratching, cooling the burn with her sharp nails, heedless of the wet warmth that was soon coating her fingers.

But it wasn't enough. She scratched harder, trying to find peace.

Someone grabbed her wrists and pulled them away. Before she could do much more than scream in anger and pain red light filled her vision and darkness took her, dousing the flames.

XXX

A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, showing one of the two brooms plummeting towards the ground, the other racing behind it. Lucius cast, his spell hitting another in mid-air, stopping whatever it was from hitting the Black girl.

A Malfoy never hurt family, even family by marriage.

A few moments later a loud crack was heard and quickly followed by a dozen more cracks.

"Aurors! Stop casting! Get out of here," The Dark Lord hissed. "I will call you later. They must not believe I'm back. There must be no proof. Not yet."

Lucius breathed a silent sigh of relief, praying that one of the aurors caught Hermione Black before she hit the ground. He could do nothing for her, not without putting his son and wife in danger. Even aiming to miss or hit other spells with his own had been chancy.

One day he may have to choose between his son and his wife's cousin, but not today. Not with the shock of finding the Dark Lord still alive and in a new physical body still coursing through him.

He had to think this through, make a plan.

And, much as he feared the Dark Lord, he had to live with Narcissa.

She would slaughter him if he ever hurt anyone she cared about. Not that he blamed her, or that he ever planned to hurt his wife in any way. He loved her dearly and he wanted, no, needed, to speak with her about what had occurred today before he did anything. When he'd first joined the Dark Lord he'd been single, and being a Death Eater did not facilitate family life. Though he'd never considered leaving, even after Draco was born.

It simply wasn't a possibility.

But the world was different now. He had a wife and son, ties to families and people that had been on the opposite side in the last war. Before the Dark Lord had been defeated by a simple babe. He could be defeated again. Hadn't three school children just succeeded in defying him?

Maybe he wasn't as powerful as Lucius had always thought him to be.

Just as he was about to apparate out he heard the Dark Lord hiss, "Barty, stay and deal with them. Cover us, escape if you can, but make them believe it was just you."

"Yes, master."

There was such worship and love in Barty Crouch Jr's voice that Lucius wanted to vomit into his Death Eater mask. He had never understood those that saw the Dark Lord that way.

Serve the power, yes, but worship it?

Never.

And he only loved three people in this world: Narcissa, Draco, and himself. The Dark Lord was worthy of his respect, but not his love.

With that thought in mind he apparated out. He took a couple random jumps to places in the countryside; removing his Death Eater ensemble as he went. On the third jump he landed in Knockturn Alley. From there he walked to the entrance of Gringotts before apparating home.

He never used to be so careful apparating away from the Dark Lord, but the aurors had become a lot more competent since Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom became section leaders.

The mansion was quiet when he arrived, but that meant nothing. Narcissa was rarely loud and the house elves were always silent.

He found her in her private sitting room. The room was dark, not even a fire was lit. As soon as he entered she spoke, never looking at him. Her gaze was focused on the window and the dark, wet countryside beyond it.

"Draco owled me. Is it true?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Apparently Crouch Sr. was an imbecile. He exchanged his dying wife for his Death Eater son. The dementors never even noticed. He kept him locked up under the Imperius Curse."

"Then, last summer, when Crouch Sr. had a heart attack..."

"Crouch Jr. escaped. He chased down rumors and found the Dark Lord. He took care of him, and then when the time was right, he kidnapped Harry Potter off the streets of Hogsmeade. An old ritual, one I'm sure was in one of the Slytherin tomes, was used to give the Dark Lord a new form. I've never seen the ritual before, but he used his father's bones, Crouch Junior's hand, and Harry Potter's blood. Junior is a fanatic and he almost killed Potter when he took the blood. The Dark Lord forced a blood replenishing potion down Potter's throat and bound the wound after the boy dropped into unconsciousness. After that he spent a long time taunting and torturing Potter before using the Imperius to force Potter to duel. After the mockery of a duel he tried to use the Imperius again to make Potter answer a question, but the boy resisted." This last bit was said with wonder, and Narcissa finally looked away from the window, her eyes narrowing as she made out her husband's expression in the dark.

"He resisted?"

"Yes, quite strongly. Refused to say if he wanted to be tortured or not again."

"And then?"

"The boy ran and hid. The Dark Lord chased him down and cast Avada Kadavra. Potter jumped out of hiding and cast Expelliarmus. After that.... The spells collided in the air and forged some sort of bond between the two wands. Potter won the battle of the wands, he pushed something from his wand to the Dark Lord's. After that things came out of the Dark Lord's wand. I couldn't make out what they were, there was some sort of golden cage-like dome over the two of them. But they looked like people."

"People?"

"So it seemed, perhaps we will learn more from Draco later. I doubt the Dark Lord will share the information."

Narcissa purses her lips, "True, he likes his secrets. And Hermione may tell Draco, however it is unlikely; as he refused to accompany her on the rescue of Potter. Though he did agree to inform Dumbledore of what had happened, before owling us."

Lucius stiffened at the idea of his son directly defying the Dark Lord. Images of Draco being overwhelmed and out-dueled. His son being captured and tortured. They flashed across his eyes and his heartbeat quickened in fear.

But, no, it hadn't happened. Draco had refused. But he'd still sent a letter home. Informing them of what had happened. He'd even informed Dumbledore. He was in the middle, able to go both ways. Ties to both sides.

And Lucius would do his best to keep Draco there until they knew which side would win. He couldn't let his son be hurt. He needed to step up Draco's training this summer. Maybe he could hire someone. Perhaps the current Defense teacher would like some summer employment. He’d heard she was very good.

He took a deep breath and continued his accounts of the afternoon and evening.

"After a few moments the dome disappeared and the forms raced at the Dark Lord. Potter reached his hand up and the Weasley girl came swooping down like a Valkyrie. She clasped his hand and pulled him up behind her. They flew away, with Hermione Black providing covering fire. Then the aurors arrived and the Dark Lord told us to leave, that he wanted no proof of his return. He made Junior stay and take the blame."

"He plans to undermine the government then. For Dumbledore will believe Potter. But Fudge won't. He'll see Potter as a mere confused boy and Junior as a madman. He'll be afraid of what the Dark Lord's return means."

"So it seems."

She turned away from him and looked back out the window, "All my work, all my plans..."

Lucius crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Narcissa, feeling her lean back into his strength.

"Not all is lost, Love. Once again the Dark Lord was defied a full victory by three children. I believe he is not as powerful as I once thought."

She turned and looked up at him, her eyes a beacon of light in the darkness.

"Are you saying you'll turn from him? Put your family first?"

Lucius stared down into the eyes of the woman he loved most in the world and looked inside himself.

Always he had felt an emptiness inside of himself. His father had told him it was the Malfoy curse. This feeling of powerlessness and inadequacy, despite the knowledge that they were anything but.

He had once sought glory, believing himself to be fighting for the protection of his legacy and all his family held dear. He'd truly believed that muggleborns and muggles would be the downfall of their society, and he still did to a degree, but waging this war against them was not the right way.

A war of words, of knowledge, perhaps. But not of spells, not of death. Death always occured on both sides.

What had happened last year at Hogwarts had shocked him to his core. First the use of such a beautiful, ancient tradition as locking your magic for the one you love being used as a potential threat against a child. Not that he'd seen it that way at first, but Narcissa had shown him what it really meant. Men almost never locked their magic; he'd never truly considered the significance of it. It had always just been the way it was, he'd never had reason to think about what it meant. What a woman gave up when she did it.

Then there had been the vitius at the tournament celebration. That it had been boys from such old and well-established magical families behind the attack...

They should have known better. What they did served no purpose. It was complete cruelty that did nothing to further any goals. And simple cruelty against muggles, who were no better than animals, was one thing, but mudbloods had magic. If nothing else that earned them a quick, clean death.

And while Lucius knew he was not a good man - he'd done many cruel acts to fellow magical people - but they had always served a purpose.

He'd slipped that diary to the Weasley girl to undermine Dumbledore. He'd been sure in the knowledge at the time that he was the worst possible man to be running Hogwarts. Something he still felt, but he knew now that they also needed Dumbledore. The man served a purpose. His death in such a place of power would mean the Dark Lord would win. As long as he lived the future was still uncertain.

Dumbledore was now trying to solve one of the problems made evident by the vitius incident; by using Narcissa and her sister to educate the victims, so they could protect themselves, but this was just a temporary fix. The real cure was needed on the other side. To find out why those boys thought they could just hand out one of the most protected substances in magical Britain like they were chocolate frogs.

It never would have happened when he was back in school; back then there were rules, codes of conduct, subtlety.

Mayhap it had changed because of the war, but the foolishness of men like Dumbledore could-

"Lucius?"

His thoughts were cut short as he remembered the question his wife had first asked him.

"I-I don't know if I will turn from him, but I will put our family first. Whichever side that requires me to be on."

She smiled a bit. Just a small, sad twist of her lips.

"I suppose that's all I can ask for."

He didn't reply with words. Instead he reached out and pulled her close to him, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

He didn't yet knew what the return of the Dark Lord meant for his family, but he would do his best to bring them through this unscathed.

It was all he could do.

XXX

Harry sat patiently as the healer fitted a sling for his left arm. It had been easy to heal the damage, and Voldemort had already given him a blood replenishet. But magic couldn't solve all problems. Crouch Jr had sliced quite a few important tendons in his haste to secure blood of the enemy for his master.

"Now, you need to keep the sling on at all times. And when you sleep switch to the soft brace. We don't want you twisting in your sleep and doing more damage. I want you to go visit Madam Pomfrey once a week. You should be able to take this off in 4-6 weeks," the healer said, pulling back and observing her handiwork.

"Yes, ma'am. Good thing I'm right-handed. OWLs are in about three weeks."

She smiled, "I wouldn't worry about that. If necessary St. Mungos can issue a medical excuse and you can take your exams when you're fit."

"That's what's going to happen to Hermione, isn't it?"

She stood up and began tidying up her things. "I'm not your sister's healer, Mr. Potter. I've specialized in bones and tendons. Miss Black was hit by a curse."

Harry could tell she was suddenly uncomfortable. He'd been in St. Mungos for hours now, and no one would tell him about Hermione or let him see her. But he knew it was bad. He'd barely been able to focus after she'd been hit. It had taken all of his force of will to stay in his own body until he got her onto the ground.

She scratched her own skin badly enough to draw blood. He'd been with her then. The burning...

It had been a relief when someone knocked her unconscious. He himself had passed out from the sudden release from the pain. Even now he could feel her, distantly, in the back of his mind. Whatever they were doing to her, she was still in severe pain.

"Now, you just wait here. Mr. Black will come and fetch you after he’s filled out your release forms."

"Thank you."

Harry watched her leave the small examining room he was occupying. In an attempt to distract himself from the fate of his sister he looked around the room, trying to find something to hold his attention. Sadly, the most interesting thing was a glass jar full of cotton swabs. The rest of the room was nothing but white walls and off-white cabinets. He was seated on the centerpiece - an examining table painted in more white.

He glanced at the floor and began to count tiles. Anything to keep his mind occupied and off of the events that had just occurred. Off of the pain he could feel coming from Hermione. He had just reached thirty-one when the distant sound of shouting drew his attention.

Curious, he slipped off the table and over to the door. As soon as he cracked it open the voices became crystal clear.

"HOW DARE YOU CALL MY DAUGHTER A LIAR!" Mrs. Weasley's thunderous voice rang through the hospital.

"M-Mrs. Weasley, you have to admit, it's highly irregular. It's been a decade and a half. Besides, only Crouch Jr was found at the-"

"Fudge! We told you! As soon as we popped in there were numerous people apparating away!" Padfoot declared.

"And Crouch Jr. declares he was the only one. He was distraught, saying he failed. We checked his wand, he cast that curse at Miss Black. As well as quite a few other nasty ones."

"So, you'll believe a madman over my daughter?" Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Mr. Weasley sound so angry. Well, except for when the twins tried to make Ron swear an unbreakable vow.

"Your daughter is only fourteen! She's only a little girl. And she'd just flown halfway across the British Isles! She made a mistake. You-Know-Who isn't back. He CAN'T be back," Minister Fudge protested.

Harry saw red. He'd already been growing angry, but this attitude...He yanked the door open and stormed into the hallway, following the conversation to its source.

"Minister, there was evidence of more than one person in that graveyard. Surely you must admit that Barty Crouch Jr wasn't working alone," Dumbledore's said soothingly.

"It was raining! And there were a dozen aurors there! Not to mention the children! Of course there was evidence of more than one person!" Fudge blustered.

Harry found the half-open door, through which the voices were originating. He shoved the door, letting it bang against the wall and draw everyone's attention.

He already knew the Minister, Padfoot, Dumbledore, and the Weasleys were there. There was also Mrs. Longbottom and a lion-haired man that Harry recognized as Padfoot's boss: Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Aurors.

"So, will you call me a liar, too?” he asked. “Voldemort was there, as well as at least a dozen Death Eaters."

"Now, Mr. Potter, let's not be hasty. You were injured, mistakes are made in the heat of the moment one man can become many," Fudge countered.

"Heat of the moment? Heat of the moment?!? There was no heat when I watched Barty Crouch Jr. drop a baby-shaped creature in a cauldron containing bone of the father, flesh of the servant, and blood of the enemy! There was only cold, stark fear as I watched Lord Voldemort rise from that cauldron! Naked as the day he was born with glowing red eyes, a snake's nose, and bone white skin. He's back! Ginny isn't lying," he practically spat the last three words.

"Now, Mr. Potter, you were injured and lost a lot of blood. You were just seeing things. There is no such ritual."

Padfoot snorted, "No such ritual? That's a load of hippogriff dung, Minister. Lord Voldemort was the last heir to both Slytherin and the Gaunts. He likely has family tomes full of things that no one knows about."

Fudge sniffed, "Family tomes should be made illegal. All that knowledge, trapped, available to only a few."

"Oh, really? So you would give up your own family tome?" Mrs. Longbottom asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.

Fudge puffed up his chest, "I have no idea what you mean. I'm a half-blood. My grandfather was a muggleborn. We can’t have a family tome."

"And your grandmother was the half-blood daughter of a Malfoy," Mrs. Longbottom snapped back.

Scrimgeour cleared his throat, "Could we get back on track? Minister, it’s my opinion that Crouch Jr is not sane enough to orchestrate this evening by himself. Whether it was You-Know-Who or not isn't important at this point."

"I'm sure you see the logic in that, Minister," Dumbledore said mildly.

"No, I don't. I refuse to believe that there is another former death eater running about in hiding! It's not possible!"

"Fudge! Get your head out of the sand! There are quite a few former death eaters running around! And now that Voldemort is back they're going to restart the war! Undoing all the work we've done over the past fourteen years!" Padfoot snarled.

"No," Fudge shook his head, "if I declare that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, just on the words of three children, I'll be the laughing stock of Britain! No one will believe-"

"Then get a proper recording auror in here! Take my memory! Take Ginny's! I'll even take Vertiserum! He’s back!" Harry shouted.

"No, can't do that. I'm sure you believe you saw him. Likely some nightmare from your childhood. All that blood loss. As for Miss Weasley, she was exhausted. So much stress to fly from Hogwarts to Little Hangleton. Maybe we could trust Miss Black, but not after that curse. She’s out of her mind with pain. No, it simply can't be done."

"Fudge! Stop making excuses to avoid the truth! Just wait! He'll make his move and then-"

"Mr. Black, please stop speaking to me in such a manner. I am your Minister and you will address me properly."

"Argghhh!!!! That's it!" Padfoot ripped off his outer robe and threw it at the shocked Minister. "I'm done! I try telling the truth and you slander me, my children, my friend's children, and everything the aurors stand for!"

Fudge's mouth opened and closed, like a beached fish.

"Same," Mrs. Longbottom said, pulling off her own outer robe. She didn't throw it. Rather, she folded it neatly and handed it to Scrimgeor.

"But-but, you can't!" Fudge gasped.

"Actually, Minister, they can. Thank you for costing me my two best aurors. Three total if I'm right in assuming that Tonks will follow her cousin," Scrimgeor looked at Padfoot and Mrs. Longbottom, "If you two ever change your minds, let me know. Don't know who’s capable of being my replacement one day without you."

"Kingsley is a good man. Lots of initiative," Padfoot said.

"No! You can't leave! You two are aurors! What else can you?" The Minister’s voice was high-pitched and held a note a panic.

Padfoot and Mrs. Longbottom shared a look before Padfoot let out a bark of laughter and Mrs. Longbottom twisted her lips into the facsimile of a smile.

Professor Dumbledore rested his hands on his stomach and rolled back on his heels, taking in everyone in the room, "My dear Minister, I think you've failed to realize that Alice and Sirius never really needed to work. Also, I do believe I'm in need of a new Defense teacher for next year. As Ms. Roux has expressed interest in returning to France.”

Harry looked away from the Minister in time to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley share a weighted look before Mrs. Weasley gave a small nod and spoke.

"So, you still maintain that our daughter is lying?"

Fudge pursed his lips in rage, "Of course she's lying! Or mistaken! Or both!"

Mr. Weasley let out a small sigh, "Then I must also tender my resignation. I cannot work for a man that cares so little about the truth."

Once again Fudge was left gaping like a fish.

Padfoot arched a brow at Mrs. Longbottom, giving her a look that Harry had seen Hermione trying to emulate for hours in front of a mirror.

She gave a sharp nod and walked out of the room. Padfoot followed, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders and moving him through the doorway and down the hall.

"Let's go look in on Hermione. Then get you back to school. I don't think it's a good idea for you to see her like this, but I know you won't leave until you do."

"But, Padfoot, what about Voldemort? And your job? What are we going to do?"

The older man stopped and pulled Harry into an alcove, where a few wheelchairs and IV holders were stored. He put both hands on Harry's shoulders and looked into his eyes. They were almost level and Harry was struck with the sudden realization he was almost at the same age the Marauders had been when everything fell apart.

"Harry, I know you're wrapped up in all of this. I know I can't tell you to stay out. Even if I did you would get drawn back in. He won't rest until you're dead. As for my job, don't worry about it. I was an auror at first because it seemed like the thing to do when the world was descending into darkness. I was still in training during the last war, and I chose to continue it after the war ended because I wanted to make the world a better place for you and Hermione. And, no matter what happens, I will continue to do my best to make the world a better place. I'm fairly sure I can find quite a few useful things to do. As for Voldemort, we can't do much at the moment. I need you to return to Hogwarts, finish your OWLs. Hopefully you'll have your sister back by then, but if not, we'll deal with that later. I just-" he stopped and took a ragged breath, tears beginning to leak from his eyes. "I just need you to stay vigilant and study hard. No matter what. When you come home I'm going to up your training. Bring out a few tricks I was planning to save until next year. But I need you to keep your head down and go back to Hogwarts for now. Can you do that?"

Harry nodded stiffly, his mind racing with questions, but his mouth unable to voice them.

Padfoot took a deep breath and pulled back before wiping his eyes." Alright, let's go see your sister."

He once again wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and the two of them continued on their way to the magical elevator.

A few floors and a short walk later they stood outside a rather simple looking door. Neither of them moved to open it. Harry felt as if a weight was pushing him back.

He'd seen what Hermione had done to her own skin. He'd been with her, feeling the pain, before the satisfaction of scratching had calmed the flames. Even now he could sense her on the other side.

No, he had to go in and see her. Hermione would visit him.

He reached out and turned the knob.

It was a small, private room; but a curtain was still drawn around the bed.

Tentatively he moved forwards until he came to a gap in the curtain. He could feel Padfoot behind him, ready to be his support. He took a deep breath and shoved the curtain aside.

The sight before him brought tears to his eyes.

He'd expected the worst, but he hadn't expected this.

She was asleep, but even in sleep she was in misery. For her hands, tied to the safety rails on the bed, were curled into claws as they tried to reach the bandages around her middle. Her face was scrunched up in pain.

It was as if the very sight of her snapped something in him and all the shock, fear, and pain of the past twenty-four hours hit him at once. He let out a sob and immediately felt himself be turned and enveloped in a hug.

"It will be alright, Harry. They have Crouch Jr's wand. They'll find the spell that did this and they'll reverse it. They will. Don't worry, they'll do it."

And, much as Harry wanted to believe his dad, he couldn't help but hear the uncertainty and fear in the older man's voice.