Entry One
"Again," he said, touching the tip of his wand to the splotch of paint that was covering his chest. The paint gathered itself into a little ball of bright pink that he threw to the side of the room, barely even enjoying the way it splashed against the dark, dreary walls.

Sirius shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said, then grinned. "Try to make it a little more of a challenge, though. You barely even reacted to those last few. So much for Seeker reflexes, huh?"

"The timing's hard," Harry protested.

"Only because you're trying to do something you don't have the skills for," Sirius pointed out.

"Dumbledore did it," Harry said. "So it's possible. I feel like I'm on the brink of figuring it out, I just need to figure out the trick..."

"Dumbledore did it," Sirius echoed. "You're not Dumbledore, Harry. Not yet, anyway. Though maybe if you stopped cleaning up all the paint I keep hitting you with..."

Harry groaned. "Let's just get back to it."

Still grinning, Sirius went back into position.

Of all the wizards that Harry knew, Sirius was the one who had had the most classical training, and it showed in the way he led off. He stood in side profile, both feet point forwards, and with his wand tip pointed forwards so that he could easily move into any casting position he wanted to. Sirius' entire menu was curses, curses, and more curses, with occasionally some minor transfiguration work when he figured he could get away with it.

He got away with it a lot.

Taking a breath while he still remembered to, Harry let his wand fall to the side, holding it ready in a loose grip. He hoped he looked more ready than he felt, because so far he'd had a day full of failures that hadn't taught him anything at all.

Sirius took the first move, and his first spell was a bolt of bright blue that Sirius didn't bother calling out the incantation for, then he followed it up with a sparkling red jet of light that Harry recognized as a variant of a Babbling Curse.

That first curse would miss him easily, so Harry focused instead on the second. It reached him before he could do more than mumble Protego, and the shimmering shield barely flickered into being before the curse hit it and it was nearly gone again.

Harry took a step forward. Sirius' reflexes had dulled after years in Azkaban, and Harry's hadn't, so the closer he got the better he would do.

With a hissed Accio, one of the blocks next to Sirius began to drag itself across the floor towards Harry, but it was too slow and too obvious. Sirius raised an eyebrow, flicked off a quick Jelly-Fingers curse, and then used the backswing of that wand movement to begin a quick transfiguration of the block Harry had just tried to Summon.

Letting his barely-there shield soak up the dark-red curse, Harry took another, quick breath, then shouted "Reducto!"

A small dog had formed itself out of the clay block, though, and while the block behind it was blasted back, the little dog shook its head and charged at Harry. It was a chihuahua or something, a rat-like little critter that Aunt Petunia might love. Harry ended it with another Blasting Curse.

That left him on the back foot against Sirius, though, who capitalized eagerly. A flurry of curses began to rain down, a spell-chain that'd see Harry paralyzed, blind and humiliated in short order.

Harry clenched his teeth. Come on, he thought, and cast another shield. He'd thought ahead this time, though, and instead of appearing directly in front of him he'd managed to have it construct itself two feet in front of him. It took more concentration that way, but it allowed him to inch his way forward, little by little, as Sirius began to really let loose.

His shield held, but only for now. It blazed with a thick light where the rain of spells hit it, until Sirius twirled his wand into a quick, choppy figure-eight pattern. Harry dropped the shield as quickly as he could, because he'd been hit with enough shield-breakers to recognize them immediately, and at the same time he allowed a dark purple spell to soar past and soak into the walls.

Stabbing his own wand forward he let loose a quick Stunner offhandedly, then made a guess and stepped to Sirius' left.

He'd guessed correctly, because the shield-breaker flew quite a bit past him and blew a hole in one of the windows. Below he heard Kreacher give a pained little shriek as the house-elf felt the pain of the house he was connected to, but on the other hand Sirius just grinned and ignored Harry's stunner flying past.

Harry tried another transfiguration, trying to crush the growing frustration inside of him that Sirius was dominating the duel again, and had to abort abruptly when Sirius sent a Tongue-Tying Curse at him.

"Protego!" he called, cursed at himself for not repeating the trick with the shield, and then had to hunker down while Sirius worked his way through another chain of spells.

He sat there, panting, like a sitting duck while Sirius unloaded on him, three spells flying at him in the time it took him to cast two. Anger at himself growing, he stewed in it for a moment more and then decided to just go for it, even if the moment didn't feel right to him.

Judging the spells carefully, he waited for the heartbeat in between spells - a Conjunctivis curse and a Leg-locker. After that, Sirius'd probably try another shieldbreaker, giving him just a bit more breathing room. The Leglocker's bright flash sped towards him as Harry reached out for it with his wand. Come on, he insisted. Come on!

Then he dropped his shield and held his breath.

The spell rushed towards him, slammed into him - and then he held it at bay with the tip of his wand, letting it rest there for only the slightest moment. A thrill ran through him as the spell started to bleed over slightly into his wand, and he could feel its intent to lock his legs together seep deeper into his mind. If he let it, it'd take effect any moment now.

He'd done the first part. Now came the harder part.

Instead, he pushed his wand forward and roared the first spell that came to mind, letting the intent wash through his mind.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted. Instead of just one, the moment he finished his wand flick, two spells launched at the same time, the scarlet of the Disarming Charm mingling with the Leg-locker's blue until they melted together into one streak of blended blue and red that slammed into Sirius' quick shield.

"Huh," Sirius managed, watching the purple creep over his shield like a living thing, too surprised to seem worried. His wand drooped a little as his eyes flicked up at Harry again. "You -"

Then the entire thing exploded into a violet flash so suddenly and violently that Sirius slammed into the far wall and Harry had to grit his teeth against the sudden blast of air, despite the distance between them.

After a moment, Harry remembered to lower his wand again and hurried over to Sirius, who had slid down the wall and collapsed onto his arse. His wand had flown from his hand and rolled underneath one of the desks they'd put aside when they'd started their duelling sessions.

"You alright?" Harry called urgently. His elation at having finally succeeded at parrying a curse by sending it back had been crushed by the sudden guilt. What had he been thinking? If Sirius got hurt...

Sirius groaned loudly. "Can't feel my legs," he mumbled. "I hope that's the Leg-locker."

He stared, a little fuzzy-eyed, at Harry, while Harry was quickly trying to cast the counter-curse to the Leg-locker. Surprise, pride, and a little pain warred in Sirius' expression, though that was replaced with a deep wince when he tried to stand up.

"Well," he managed. "I guess I was wrong. You did have the skills for it."

Entry Two
“Stupefy!” shouted Lily, trying to catch out an unmasked Evan Rosier as he jumped dramatically and very much aided by magic over the tracks, heading for the southbound platform, for Moody and the muggles. She missed, and then had to duck as a hex soared past her. The spells exploded around and above her, showing off the curves of her shield charm, eruption of colours amplified by Farringdon station’s glass ceiling and the crimson backdrop painted by the setting sun.

There were several more cracks of apparition on the southbound platform, and Lily saw Peter’s anxious face as he sent stunning spells in every which direction, almost hitting Moody. Death Eaters had apparated to both platforms now, and Moody and Peter had their work cut out for them. The muggles were visible behind a latticework of gleaming metal and magic in the corner of the platform, Moody’s spellwork keeping them safe for the time being. Lily sent another stunning spell towards Rosier, who was doing his utmost to take down Moody. She missed again and prepared to apparate to the other side.

The train station loudspeakers crackled into life, and Lily recognized Sturgis Podmore’s voice as he, with unreal calm, explained that Farringdon station was under attack, everybody needed to evacuate, and no trains would be allowed to enter the station. At the same time, however, the tell-tale rush of air of the tube was heard, and the next northbound train pulled into the station in complete disregard of Podmore.

Lily had abandoned her disapparition plans and begun locking the doors magically long before the train came to a stop, running along it as fast as she could. Behind her she heard Marlene and Benjy doing the same, jinxes and curses still whizzing past, colliding loudly with the train. A few of the middle car doors opened before anyone got to them, but mercifully the passengers stayed put. Not even the most adamant muggle commuter could’ve wrangled their way through this.

Lily saw Death Eaters fighting with renewed vigour, desperate to get closer to the stationary train and the muggles within. A mild explosive curse hit just outside one of the open doors to the accompaniment of worried screams, but Lily couldn’t see any real damage.

Then a shout of glee sounded just in front of her by the locomotive. A Death Eater blasted the door open, and before Lily could do anything a dead body fell out, blood all over his uniform. Heart in her throat and blood pounding in her ears, Lily leapt to the door sending a tripping jinx into the large opening, just as it started moving again. There was a grunt and a body slammed to the floor, and Lily didn’t hesitate but jumped into the locomotive. Her left hand got hit by a nasty, skin flaying hex, but she overpowered the single Death Eater before she had even registered the pain. After a full body-bind curse aimed at the man on the floor, she cradled her hand and stared down the empty driver’s seat. The train was rattling forwards through its tunnel at a leisurely pace, and Lily needed to figure out how to drive it.

“Merlin’s unwashed petticoat,” she grumbled incoherently, memories of Marlene’s and Dorcas’s attempts to teach her wizarding sayings surfacing unhelpfully. She’d never quite gotten the hang of it.

Stepping forcefully on the Death Eater’s masked face (no sound, not even a grunt) she took the seat, noting the thermos and half-eaten sandwich the driver had been forced to abandon. There were several buttons, a small wheel and two levers, also something that looked like a speaker or a walkie talkie. Fortunately, one of the buttons was labelled ‘emergency stop’, and Lily didn’t hesitate to press it. There was already light, though, and blinking into it her train rattled into the much larger King’s Cross station. There was an oily, burnt smell, and the piercing groan of grinding metal, but the train stopped in a way that left only the first two cars by the platform, the rest of the train still in the tunnel.

Lily took hold of the thing that looked like a walkie talkie connected by a thick curly cord to the panel and tried to think of what to say to calm the passengers down. Then the screaming started, but it was not coming from her train. The commuters on the platform were running and crying, bodies collapsing left and right.

A long-limbed man in a black cloak was striding towards her. He had immaculate, dark hair and his face was whiter than a skeleton's. His eyes were flashing red like in a badly developed muggle photograph.

“This is not over yet,” Lily found herself saying into the speaker, hoping her passengers could hear her. “There’s a man the police are looking for, believed to be IRA, he’s trying to get on this train with a gun.” Voldemort was alone on the platform now, alone with dozens of corpses. Lily could hear an official message over the loudspeakers at the platform, everyone was being told to evacuate King’s Cross immediately. “I need all of you to hide in the last car on this train.”

Lily dropped the microphone and fumbled behind her for the door handle. She pulled and pushed ineffectually with her damaged hand, keeping her panic at bay, wand steady in her other hand. Finally, with a twist, the door opened, and she pushed through, hearing glass breaking when the first curse hit as she pushed the door shut.

“Duro!” Lily roared, putting all her might into the spell, a rasping noise coming directly from the walls of the car as they turned to stone. She ran through the empty car and into the next one, slamming the door shut and repeating the spell that turned the car into stone, then doing the same for the door and the windows. She had barely gotten through to the third car, which still contained a few frightened passengers, when a blast like a bomb sounded. Crashing to the floor with the wave of power from Voldemort’s spell, it took Lily seconds to discover which way was up and which way, if any, she could escape from. Squinting and coughing through the burning dust, she realized she was staring straight at the edge of the platform, dark shapes whirling among debris, a sole set of footsteps… the first two tube cars had been blown up.

There was the sound of dozens of people apparating on the King’s Cross side, and Lily had no idea if they were friend or foe. The rubble was clearing and she caught Voldemort’s eye for a second time. A sneer twisted his features momentarily before he conjured fire and disapparated. A fire that engulfed the car in seconds, hotter and more powerful than anything Lily had ever experienced.

She almost felt as if she wasted the seconds it took to perform a bubblehead charm on herself and the others in the car, but her decision proved valid as the passengers were able to get back up from the floor, no longer coughing and retching from the fire and the smoke, able to stumble into the next car in an orderly queue, patting hems of smouldering clothing or strands of hair as they went. Rarely had Lily been prouder of her countrymen than today. She left the car last, buzzing with adrenalin, sweating profusely and with scorched feet, her plimsols not at all designed for walking through infernos.

Entry Three
"Oh," murmured Bellatrix. "You do know the etiquette of dueling, don't you? Hogwarts hasn't fallen to such low standards, has it?"
She bent forward slightly, her silver eyes watching Harry's every move. The wand in her right hand twitched in anticipation.

Harry stiffened.

“Must we repeat what happened in the graveyard? The Dark Lord has told me all about it,” said Bellatrix, her fleeting expression of satisfaction replaced by a look of outrage. “I was trying so hard to be kind as well. You would not like it when I am angry.”

For his freedom, he would set aside his pride, and so Harry bowed — his face taut and his fingernails digging into his palms and desperately grasping onto his wand.

“Diffindo!”

The invisible spell shot through the air as Harry retreated from the bow and a few feet to the side, calling out another Severing Charm.
He barely watched Bellatrix raise a translucent shield, absorbing the impact of the two spells, before Harry launching a series of attacks.
One of his Bombarda Charms went wide, causing splinters of wood to rain upon the floor. The other spells; a mixture of Severing and Bombarda charms were easily blocked with a swish of Bellatrix's wand.

“Do you really think you could hurt me with these first-year spells?” The Dark Lord's most loyal follower taunted. “Are you really so weak, Harry?” She took a step to the right, allowing a red-tinted spell to pass by. “— using spells that were designed to not tear into human flesh —?”

“Confringo!” Harry shouted, the Blasting Curse hurling from his wand— only to be disintegrated mere feet from her wand.

“Incendio!” The spell was torn apart, the flames sputtering and dying.

With a wordless snarl, Harry sent forth a barrage of spells, Blasting, Flame and Reductor Curses, while moving across the alleyway, looking for any opening or an escape route. Bellatrix never even moved as she tore apart or redirected every curse. Not even a single spell neared him.
Becoming aggravated, and seeing Narcissa block the only other exit, Harry turned towards the walls, summoning the lanterns one by one and banishing them towards Bellatrix. The alley way grew progressively darker as the sources of light were slammed into the walls with a flick of Bellatrix's wand.

Harry could hear flames crackling as he panted for air. A wooden crate resting against the stone wall was aflame.

“You are weak.” said Bellatrix, taking his first step forward since the fight began. “Are you already giving up?”

“Never,” said Harry, banishing the fiery debris towards Voldemort. With a simple wave of his wand, the wooden pieces exploded outwards. Harry dived to the floor to escape the flying splinters.

He angrily pushed himself to his elbows, small wood chips falling to the ground as he moved.

“Useless.” The Bellatrix stood in front of him, staring down with a sneer fitting on her face like a princess looking down on a peasant.

With seeker reflexes, Harry rolled and furiously shouted, “Confringo!”

The roar of magic leaped towards Bellatrix, causing his hand to buckle and grasp his wand tighter as the fury of his magic soared out of him. There was little time to do anything but watch, yet a near opaque shield formed around Bellatrix, leaving not an ounce of her skin exposed. His spell ricocheted off the shield and settled on the floor.

“I was hoping for a challenge for once. Apparently, this was nothing more than a foolish dream." Bellatrix sighed. "Shame. I had heard all about your adventures in Azkaban. It must have been lies. You are nothing. Less than a Mudblood."

The alleyway was beginning to fill with smoke as Harry pulled himself from the ground.

Bellatrix, with a full mouth grin exposing her rotting teeth, did not even bother looking at the wand. "I am the Dark Lord's most trusted. He was the one who brought me into the fold, taught me everything I knew. You are nothing without him, just look at you. You can't even make a poor woman bleed."

Bellatrix threw back her laugh as Harry grasped his wand tighter. Damn her, damn her all.

The rage lingered in the depths of his stomach, slowly growing as it ate the anger and worry. He barely knew any magic compared to Voldemort or Dumbledore, yet they all wanted him. He could not escape, and he was sick of it.

“Scindio!” bellowed Harry, releasing the anger bubbling in his stomach. He slashed his wand downward.

The Rendering Curse slammed into Bellatrix’s shield as if it were a sword, ringing the alley with a sharp and distinct sound. The near transparent spell slid down the maintained magical barrier.

Damn those shields!

Moving to the right, Harry attempted a shield breaker, he saw in The Aurors' Guidebook, and watched it fail dramatically — not even managing to dent the shield.

His anger molded his magic, as he roared out another harmful curse, “Perseco!” He wanted to see Bellatrix’s blood dripping on the ground, her face in agony.

But Bellatrix parried the curse, sending it blasting into the cobblestone wall.

Harry began another series of attacks, using spells he had assumed he would never use. Yet, nothing went through. Bellatrix, with no help from Narcissa, managed to block, avoid or parried, every curse he sent.

Harry went to something beyond anger and suddenly everything seemed bright and sharp and clear. It was like passing through fire to reach ice. He was numb to everything in the world except to cause this monster pain. This is what hate felt like. The old journal popped into his mind.

…she re-lived every curse, every injury and every emotional pain I had ever experienced…

He twisted his wand into a complex pattern and thought about the pain Bellatrix and Voldemort had put him through.

“Arderus Memoriam!”

“Enough!” There was a loud POP and Harry flew backwards. He slammed into the ground with his wand escaping his wand and being flung out of his hand. He breathed heavily, as he watched the broken planks of an old crate be consumed with flames. Bellatrix approached him with a smile, leaning over his prone and sprawled body.

Bellatrix seemed to waiver between anger and amusement, her eyes flashing and her hand on his wand tightening as she slowly broke into a grin. “Do you feel changed, Harry — as if you were tainted by the Dark spells you used? Of course not. There is no good or evil in magic, just intent, Harry Potter.”

Harry turned and dived for his wand. Bellatrix slashed her wand in the air; Harry, whipped with what seemed to be a leash, struck him across the chest. He was forced backwards and into the wooden floor. For a singular moment, the breath seemed to have been gone from his body. Harry struggled to sit up but found himself unable. His head still swimming from the contact with the ground, he saw Bellatrix standing before him, her wand steadily pointing at him.

“Though I admire your determination… In, it is quite fair to say that you have lost. You will stand down, behave and do as I say. I am Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lord's most trusted. It is only right that I should be the one to bring you back to the manor when my Master is preoccupied with far more important matters.”

With Bellatrix's wand lowering, Harry felt the weight of the spell disappear, allowing him to rise and grasp his wand.

“You’ve proved yourself once. You duel well, and I am pleasantly surprised at the skill you have with the Dark Arts," said Bellatrix passionately. "If I didn't know better, I would’ve assumed you had tampered with the arts long before now.”

Harry said nothing, a sense of uneasiness filling him.

“I will leave you your wand, as you’ll need it tomorrow morning.”

Bellatrix turned away and lazily flicked her wand. The fires were instantly extinguished, and the broken objects began to fix themselves as if they had never been fighting in an alley.