The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix Part Three

Take Their Power Away

Ace Dante wasn't much taller than Sirius, but looking at him made Sirius feel very small.

A lot had changed about Ace's features since Sirius had seen him last, but there was no mistaking that it was him. He had a bit of a five o'clock shadow on his chin and jawbone and his eyes were tired, his face a bit sunken about his cheekbones and his hair was not the admirable height and shine that it had once been. Instead, it was cut short, growing back from a shave - a look at Sirius recognized all too well from his experience following the agrafo curse he'd been subjected to in fifth year. Ace's frame was skinny, hollow almost, in a way that said he'd been under nourished for a great deal of time.

He's been in jail, Sirius reminded himself, and the thought conjured images of his time in the cell at the Ministry.

Honestly, looking him over, Sirius felt more bad for Ace than angry at him, or even hurt by him. A funny twist went through him that he wasn't sure he knew how to put words to. It was something akin to pity, but in a weird way. Later, Sirius would vocalize it as being an intuititive understanding that there was nothing Ace or anyone else could do to repair or change what had been done to Sirius, but that a price had indeed been paid nonetheless. Like Sirius had lost something, it was clear looking at him that Ace Dante had also lost something and perhaps Ace had ultimately lost even more than Sirius had in the end.

Sirius stared at the man he'd once had nightmares about, the man who Achlys had conjured up in him as a sort of mental boggart, and he found that instead of Achlys voice speaking now, he heard Dorcas Meadows voice.

"Sirius, you need to let go of your resentment."

"But he hurt me and I want him to hurt," Sirius had said.

"Sometimes," Dorcas's voice had been gentle compared to the grit of Sirius's tone, "It hurts us more to hold onto things. As long as you're holding onto it, it has power over you. It has the ability to hurt you. He has the ability to hurt you. Achlys has the ability to use that over you. Do you see? But if you let it go, if you choose for yourself to release the resentment, then you're opening yourself up to freedom from that power. And what way do you most hurt someone who seeks power?"

"Annihilating them and everything they love?" Sirius jokingly guessed.

Dorcas shook her head. "Take their power away."

Sirius stared now at Ace Dante and he realized two things: First, Ace Dante had no power over him, Sirius, whatsoever. He felt pity for the hollow man before him, not hurt for the things that Ace had done to him. Second, Ace Dante had no power at all. He was a weakened shell compared to the slick, cool figure that Ace had once represented in Sirius's mind - before everything happened - and whatever power Ace had actually had back then was completely obliterated now. As though time had annihilated Ace without Sirius ever lifting a finger.

Sirius stared at him and Ace stared back. It was as though time had stood still to allow Sirius a moment to process all these things in his head so that when things began moving again, it was like he was ready for it.

"Sirius Black," Ace's voice finally ground out, a defeated sound to the tone of it. "Holy shit. It's you."

Sirius didn't speak. He couldn't. Not because of emotion or anything, just something in him told him to hold his tongue for just a moment, as though he were watching himself on a film reel and it wasn't time for him to deliver his line yet.

"I've been trying to - to figure out how to reach you - but the old address I had for you in Godric's Hollow. The house isn't even there anymore. Like it burnt down or something."

"Why were you trying to reach me?" Sirius asked.

Ace reached into his pocket and he pulled out a ring of keys. Hanging from the ring was a chip - a chip from Alcoholics Anonymous. He held it up. "I'm trying to clean myself up. And part of that is facing people I did wrong and saying that I am sorry for what I did. I don't remember everything. I don't remember much of what I did to you, honestly. I know I did you wrong. I know I did you really, really wrong and I wanted to say that I was s--"