215 Chapter 215: One Bad Day

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1 May 1994, Unknown Place

With a clink, his chains fell, and Neville looked at his free hands with glee and relished the astonished expression on his cellmate's face, "So, what next?"

Sirius Black suppressed the urge to cackle as Neville Longbottom followed his lead like a good little duckling. All it took was a sad story and a bit of acting and the boy was putty in his hand.

No wonder Lily's spawn was able to manipulate him so easily. It was a shame, though, he was a good kid. His parents were also good people. Frank was strong and honourable, so much so that even James had tried to emulate him. Alice was kind to a fault but had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, a real spitfire.

Their son might have a big head and a bigger ego, but he was a good kid at heart, one that was slowly maturing into a good young man. It was too bad that good men often suffered at the hands of people like Dumbledore.

Sirius motioned towards the right corridor just outside his cell, "This way. I remember one of the guards going that way after saying that he forgot something."

The boy followed his lead without even asking any other questions. Dumbledore really did raise a good little follower, didn't he? He motioned to the brat to unlock the door while taking cover and Neville used his wandless magic to open the door once more, not even commenting on the lack of wards in the area.

Sirius was about to deal Dumbledore the largest blow to his cause that the old man would ever experience. All he had to do was get the brat to use his magic, "Do you mind conjuring some light? I can't see anything."

The boy nodded and conjured a ball of light in his palm, "So, what are you going to do after we get out of here?"

"I don't know. I never actually considered this eventuality. I've been here for so long… I guess I would want to get custody of Harry and make a good person out of him. One that wouldn't betray his friends, like Peter did to me. Like he did to you. I would keep him out of Dumbledore's clutches. I have a lot of grief with the old man. I don't even know what I'm going to do when I get out of here."

The Longbottom brat seemed to glare slightly whenever he mentioned Harry. Damn, Grindelwald was spot-on with his information. Whatever form of Divination or Clairvoyance the Dark Lord had it was eerily accurate. It was kind of terrifying, to be perfectly honest. Not that Sirius cared. Grindelwald kept his part of the deal. Harry Potter was now out of the picture, trapped in one of the most abominable prisons ever devised.

Grindelwald had picked up Sirius at his lowest, as he had lost at the hands of a child of the woman who murdered his best friend. He was barely more than ash and pain. He put him back together and made him a body that looked normal. Even the pain from Lily's hell had lessened. It was still there, yes, but it was in the background, like a faint whisper in the back of his mind.

Grindelwald gave him a goal, trained him, and taught him discipline, and how to order his chaotic mind and emotions. He gave him a plan to follow, and it worked. The Potter brat was gone, and now Sirius would serve the Dark Lord loyally to repay him.

Choosing to put even more pressure on the boy, Sirius continued, "I'll probably end up attacking Snape on sight. He caused me so much pain and suffering. And to hear that Dumbledore had let him teach children. I have no idea what that man was thinking. I suppose that's schemers for you."

"Schemers?" the boy asked.

"It's what I call people like Dumbledore. They look from the outside, manipulate people like me and you to fight their wars, and take unnecessary risks, for their sakes but they don't give a damn about us. They'd make it sound so reasonable like you've fulfilled a higher purpose. You should have seen him during the war. He barely ever got out of the castle. All he did was ask us, his order, to respond to the attacks. Hell, your parents faced Voldemort as much as he did. Although, it was better to say that they ran away from Voldemort. But still, it was far too much risk just to avoid a fight."

"They had to fight him, though!"

Sirius couldn't help but release a bitter laugh, "They had to? They didn't have to do anything, Neville. I realized that a very long time ago. This entire war was a bad joke. The morals that Dumbledore spouted, his code of non-violence were barely more than illusions, dropped at the first sign of trouble. When someone tries to kill you, you fight back with everything you have. It's what's natural. You probably think we were white knights, your parents and me. We weren't. We played dirty and used horrible spells on our enemies. We wouldn't have survived otherwise. Dumbledore says a lot of things that make sense if you don't think too much about it."

The boy stayed silent, and Sirius continued, "We liked to think that we were good men. The truth is that people are only as good as the world allows them to be. And this war made beasts of us all. Sometimes I wonder how many people died just because Dumbledore and Voldemort never wanted to fight directly."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"To make sure you understand that the world is more complicated than what Dumbledore wants people to see it is. It's a lot more chaotic. If there's something I have learned in my miserable life, it is that the idea of good and evil is a lie, a social construct that people use to make the world spin their way. Death Eaters did not go after Muggleborns because they revelled in cruelty, apart from a few cases that is. They did it because they thought that they saw them as a disease that would endanger their lifestyle. We did not fight Death Eaters, even kill them, because we were monsters, but because we were trying to save lives, because Dumbledore said they were bad men. Every act has its justifications. Good and Evil depend entirely on your perspective. And with how much the system is corrupt when you realize that it does not help you, sometimes you have to ignore what everyone says and do what you really want. That's what matters in the end, doesn't it? What you want…"

Normally the boy would have realized that he was being manipulated. Sirius was being a little blatant about it, but when the boy kept channelling that scar of his, kept using its power, it was easy to make a few suggestions and watch them take root in his psyche.

It was funny to see the boy try to make sense of his thoughts, fighting on two fronts without even realizing it. He was trying to resist the influence of his scar and trying to deny Sirius' words and failing miserably at either.

Just as they planned, the door at the end of the corridor opened with a slam, and half a dozen masked guards entered the premises, wands barring and sending spells at them. Sirius leapt towards Neville to get him out of the way.

He stood there, guarding the boy, as he was peppered with seemingly painful spells. And they were painful, of course, and Sirius would have probably been dead had he been a normal wizard. Alas, he was not. This was barely a sting compared to the agony he felt every day. Instead, he yelled out, "Do something!"

"I… I…" the boy stammered.

"Enough of this boy! Just do anything! I don't know how much of this I can take!"

Sirius started to scream, and the boy was obviously running out of ideas, "We're both going to die if you don't do anything!"

And just like that, a spark lit in the boy's eyes. He pushed Sirius Black and released giant black flames from his hands. Sirius couldn't help but giggle at the sound of pain and the smell of burning flesh. The boy then fell down on his knees, both emotionally and magically spent, watching with fascination and horror as his enemies fell before him, "I'm a killer."

Sirius grabbed the boy's shoulders gently, "So what? I'm a killer, too. And you know what, so were your parents. You youngsters often forget that we fought a war. Everyone on both sides was either a killer or dead. Sometimes, we don't have a choice but to take a life. Do you think you had a choice besides killing them? Look back, was there any other way?"

The boy looked pensive, "No, they would have killed us."

"Yes, they would have. That's what I'm trying to teach you. That's what I think your parents would have taught you. It's alright to take up a cause, to fight. But your life is precious. Your first priority should be yourself or the people you love. If you have a choice between you and anyone else, always choose yourself."

Neville nodded, his eyes hazy, "I think you would have been a good godfather to Harry."

Sirius snorted, "I hope so, kid. Now, let's get out of this place. I've been here enough. Too bad you burned their wands though."

They walked in silence to the basement and Neville opened the lock wandlessly. Sirius watched as Neville found his wand sitting on a shelf and grabbed it with a smile on his face, "I missed this…"

"What did the portkey that brought you here look like?" Sirius asked.

"A glowing trophy… Ah, there it is!"

The boy turned towards the trophy, pointing towards the other side of the room. The moment he did, they heard loud voices, "Run! Get to the trophy now!"

Before he could do anything, Sirius ran the trophy. He saw one of the attackers point his wand towards Neville and release a green flash. He ran towards the curse in question, taking it just as they were inches away from the trophy. He watched the boy's look of pure agony and hatred as he touched the trophy and was transported back to Hogwarts. He couldn't help but burst into laughter.

It was funny how much a few words can impact anyone. He could only imagine Dumbledore's face as he saw the new and improved boy who lived. Grindelwald really had plans inside plans that were inside another layer of plans. Being a seer must have helped in a way.

Sirius grabbed the small golden disk that Grindelwald had given him earlier that contained the Potter brat. He had gotten one of his agents to retrieve it for him. Oh, he didn't care about Harry in any way. He just thought it would have been wasteful to not use the boy's magic in some way. Still, he had let Sirius have the Garden of Avalon until the boy was no more.

And according to the Dark Lord's calculations, the boy's soul would burn up sometime in the next few days, depending on his resilience. He wondered if the brat's pain would rival his own. Sirius couldn't help but feel a small thrill of pride and pleasure as he destroyed Lily's legacy so completely. He wondered what she would have felt like to see it happen, the pain in her eyes at her son's suffering. It made him almost wish the woman wasn't dead. Almost.

He walked to the main hall of the fortress he was in. It acted as the base of the Dark Lord's agents in Britain. Hundreds of vampires, dozens of mages and werewolves. There were even a couple of giants. A small army, and other than Grindelwald himself, Sirius was in charge.

Before he could say anything, he felt the golden disk in his pocket vibrating. Was it supposed to do that? He tried to grab it, but the thing burned him, and he let go of it.

The runes started to light up once more and suddenly there was a violent flash of light and a bang. Everyone was thrown back during the explosion. It took a few seconds for Sirius to regain his vision and stand up. However, when he did, he growled in anger recognizing the person standing where the disk used to be. 

A ragged and exhausted Harry Potter was standing in the middle of their fortress, "I'm back!" 

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Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.