Chapter 2
Chapter 2 of 2
TarpeiaDetermined to drive Severus away from the Dark side, Lily feigns to join him in his service to the Dark Lord. She cannot imagine that her reputation is the least of the things she will lose. Very dark.
ReviewedNote: Many thanks to blue artemis for the beta.
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A smile, gentle like the kiss of dawn upon a snowdrop. A twinkle of laughter deep in the forest green eyes. A playful toss of the flaming curls. Then she was gone again.
The lump in his throat was suffocating him. He wished to look away, yet found himself gazing at the window glass with more tenacity than before. Would he get another glimpse of the sweet face that haunted him? He both craved and dreaded the translucent vision on the pane, even though it was a mere phantom of his imagination. The peaceful life flourishing behind his window was no longer of interest to him: the wizards and witches strolling down the snow-covered alley, the children playing in the snow, the occasional owls circling above the lanterns, none of them could offer him comfort.
The illusion came again, fleeting like a dream. She was looking up through thick lashes, a blush on her cheeks. Her hair was twisted in a simple bun he longed to untie, just to feel her locks spilling between his fingers. He had only done so once.
Blinking, he turned away. Lily's magical picture smiled at him from the mantelpiece. Sirius had once suggested removing it; the idea had earned him a mutinous glare, after which he had never voiced it again. Secretly, however, James felt grateful for his friend's concern. Seeing this picture caused him so much pain.
Lily's face had been ashen pale the evening she had left; gone had been her cheeriness and vivacity he loved so dearly. With a quiet I'm sorry, she had handed him back the engagement ring he had given her shortly before their graduation. Then, in a few lifeless flicks of her wand, she had packed her belongings while he watched, unable to comprehend what was happening, unwilling to accept it. It was only when she had paused to give him one last glance that he had gasped out the words swollen in his throat, "You don't have to do this."
But she had sadly shaken her head and stepped out into the fog, Disapparating on the spot. His shock had been so great he had remained in the hall, his eyes fixed on the evening alley through the door she had left agape. It was as though a Dementor had enfolded him, compressing his heart with its chilling claws; the feeling of emptiness in his chest could not have been more complete. Nothing had horrified him more than the despair in her eyes, though...not her silence, not even her leaving. The day before, she had been laughing merrily, kissing him with genuine passion and love. Whatever had brought the change in her demeanor had made her suffer. And he hated himself for not having prevented her from going away. He should have caught her arm, taken her home and begged her to stay, for if she loved him, what else mattered? What could be more important for either of them? But he had been frozen to his core, incapable of a single thought.
The ring was burning his skin through the fabric of his pocket, just like the unshed tears were burning his eyes. He longed to know where she now stayed and whether she was happy. But he had no right to pursue her any more. Not unless she chose to return.
Suddenly, the tension in the air mounted, similar to the moment of silence before a lightning strike. A second later, a figure materialized before the house. It was a slightly plump man in a dark cloak, with brown hair glittering with snow. Peter. James watched him approach the entrance door, still immersed in his despondent musing; the sound of knocking had the effect of a Reviving Spell upon him. He quickly banished the traces of grief from his face, fully aware that no amount of pretense would deceive his friends. He had almost descended the stairs when the door slid open: Sirius, who stopped by every day in an attempt to comfort him, had let Peter in.
As the latter rid himself of his cloak, his fatigued expression came into focus. The circles beneath his eyes were heavy and striking, and there was a frown line on his forehead James had never noticed before. The beady eyes exuded wariness and, most disturbingly, resignation. Peter presently looked much older than his age.
Their gazes locked. Something important, something terrible had happened, James could tell this at once.
The guest's enunciation was uncharacteristically distinct and somber. "We need to talk."
With a nod, James turned on his heels and led the way to the living room, where he and Sirius lowered themselves into armchairs, leaving the sofa to the newcomer.
"It's about Lily."
The name sent a jolt through James's body, and he instinctively straightened up in his seat. Even in his distress, it seemed to him those two syllables lightened the air around them like a beam of sunlight.
"Have you seen her?" The question had slipped from his lips before he had even registered it.
"No, but I know where she is. Brace yourself, this will hurt. She is with Snape. And she is in serious danger."
There was a short silence, followed by Sirius's exclamation of disbelief. "Snape? He is a Death Eater!"
"Yes," Peter snorted grimly.
James had gone rigid with consternation. Snape. His wild imagination instantly pictured to him the sallow face and the inscrutable black eyes, along with all they represented. He loathed the skanky git, yet his hatred was nothing compared to the hatred the said git entertained toward him. Irrespective of his blood status, the man had been the perfect incarnation of the elitist Dark wizard since his very childhood: calculating, unscrupulous, self-serving, and fascinated by the Dark Arts. Lily had never seen him for who he truly was, even though he had hurt her dozens of times. But James had come to know his nature, and the way Snape would observe Lily had not escaped his attention. He had been a fool not to have realized immediately who the cause of his misfortune was.
"Did he harm her?" he heard himself snarl.
"I think he did, in a way. I don't know what he told her to make her believe him...maybe he put her under a curse...but he convinced her it was her fault he had joined the Dark... You-Know-Who. And that if she really wanted to right her wrongs and save him from the Dark side, she had to stay with him."
James trembled with rage, his face crimson and hot. At his side, Sirius scanned Peter with a piercing look, utterly bemused.
"But this is not the worst of it," Peter continued. "He plans to do more than just seduce her. Apparently, he proposed that You-Know-Who should use her against us...you know, by turning her into one of his 'servants.'"
His companions gaped at him.
"This doesn't make sense," James objected. "Lily would never join You-Know-Who."
Peter arched an eyebrow. "Not even to save someone from a tragic fate? Someone she thinks she made miserable?"
His mouth went dry. The idea was inhumane. How could Snivellus have planted such a belief in her mind? How could he dare tell her such a thing...her of all people?
"That's right," Peter stated drearily, gauging James's reaction. "He knew she would fall for his story. He is manipulating her into joining his master. Once she is at their mercy, they'll use her as a puppet against Dumbledore."
A thousand delirious questions whirled in James's mind, filling him with anger and apprehension. But he knew this: he would save Lily from their clutches, just before killing Snivellus with his bare hands.
"How do you know this?" Sirius inquired.
"I saw him." Peter's eyes became distant, glassy, as did his voice. "Snape. Heard him talk to the Death Eaters."
"When?"
"Yesterday night at Knockturn Alley." He shook his head as if to clear it. "I was spending the evening in Flourish and Blotts, looking for books on counter-curses. When it grew late, I went to the Leaky Cauldron for dinner; it was quite deserted at that hour. As I was talking to Tom, I saw a black figure sneak to the courtyard and tap the bricks. I suspected right away it was Snape: he had exactly the same bearing, the same gait, the same greasy hair. He set out to Diagon Alley, and on impulse, I came after him. I didn't give it much thought...it just felt like a golden opportunity to find out more about him, maybe about the whole bunch of them...and with no one around, I decided to try.
"The street was dark and it was snowing again, but I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself just the same, in case more of them arrived. Eventually, he turned into Knockturn Alley and walked up to a shabby little shop called the Spiny Serpent. After he entered, I peeked into the window. There were people inside, all dressed in black and seated around a table; it definitely gave the impression of a meeting. I used the Unlocking Charm to open the window a few inches, which allowed me to make out about the half of their conversation. This is what I heard.
"According to Snape, Lily trusts she can drive him from the Dark side and persuade him to join the Order. She now lives in his house, and he keeps her under supervision, making sure she doesn't spy for us. He means to trick her into swearing allegiance to You-Know-Who."
"Are you saying they consider giving Lily the Dark Mark?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"No, not the Dark Mark. That would be too much honor. I understand there is a specific complex of spells for those He chooses to enslave; it must be loosely based on the magic inflicted on house-elves. The brand in question is a tattoo shaped as a little snake on a person's wrist."
Peter threw a cautious glance at James's livid face.
"If Lily is subjected to those spells, she won't be able to use magic without You-Know-Who's permission. They'll make her work for him...presumably brew potions...to both mentally destroy her and present her as a traitor to the Order. Snape will keep her under control; he had a word with You-Know-Who, who agreed to let him have her as a sort of... reward. I don't reckon we can reasonably save her after this ritual is performed."
James could not take another word. Blood was drumming in his temples, and fury was slowly clouding his vision.
"When does this ritual take place?" he ground out.
Peter lowered his eyes. "Tomorrow."
This was not happening. James exchanged a look of dismay with Sirius.
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow evening. I'm sorry, I came as quickly as I could."
James stood up and walked over to the window, propping himself against the ledge. His eyes shifted from one house to the next without taking in anything. Sirius's grave voice broke the silence.
"Where does Snape live?"
"Somewhere in Cokeworth," James said hatefully. "Not far from Lily's family. It should be easy enough to find him."
"I don't think it's a good idea," Peter objected, much to their surprise. "I understood the ritual would be held in the Lestranges' house. It's quite possible they'd gather there today to get ready. Besides, it would be difficult to break through Snape's wards; Dark magic has always been his specialty."
"What about the Lestranges' wards?" James riposted, struggling to stifle his rising temper. "Does it sound easier to enter an old pure-blood mansion than breach Snivellus's enchantments?"
Peter chewed on his lip as he contemplated this.
"It's not easier," he conceded. "However, I'm pretty certain going to Cokeworth will do us no good. It will be a waste of time."
"You said it was quite possible they'd be spending the day in the Lestranges' house," Sirius pointed out. "Now you're pretty certain?"
"It's much more plausible. Cokeworth is Lily's native town, and she could find a way to escape at the last minute if she changed her mind," Peter explained patiently. "And despite their number, the location actually plays in our favor. Snape knows we're Animagi...I've no doubt he set wards to prevent us from coming anywhere near his house, especially now that he's keeping Lily captive. The Lestranges might still not know, or they might not have bothered extending their protection."
James turned, his eyes feverish.
"You suggest that we transform to slip into the house?"
"Exactly. If we're lucky, we'll steal in without trouble. You know Hogwarts isn't secured against the intrusion of Animagi; let's hope the Lestranges are no more creative in their magic."
Sirius pondered this, a frown of concentration on his brows.
"What about Moony?"
"He doesn't have to go," James said distractedly.
Sirius shook his head. "He'll want to, Prongs. He'd never accept to be left behind. Moreover, our chances will be better if he comes along."
As true as this was, the knowledge his friends would be accompanying him to this nest of snakes left James with the sensation of a lead weight setting below his heart. He had no right to ask such a sacrifice of them... nor did he have the choice.
His eyes sought out Peter, who was listening impassively.
"In Moony's case," the latter started, "the only way to get him past the wards would probably be to transfigure him into a beast."
He raised his gaze to find both James and Sirius speechless and sighed.
"I know, but what else? We have no time to get the Polyjuice Potion, and your Invisibility Cloak won't be sufficient. Also, we don't want to alert them by attempting to destroy their wards."
"On second thought," Sirius reflected with a shadow of a smile, "Moony might prefer to stay behind after all."
James forced the corners of his lips upwards. Then his face sobered.
"I've heard enough. I'm leaving. I don't ask any of you to come with me."
Sirius flashed him a condescending smirk and sprang to his feet. Peter followed suit, fumbling in his pockets.
"I have to make a stop home before we go. Give me half an hour; I'll be back by the time Moony joins us."
He granted them a faint smile...a smile belied by the anxious way he was wringing his hands. James almost drew a breath to object, then halted. He owed Peter more than he could ever repay. Besides, they were right: it was indispensable to wait for Remus.
Sirius, however, did not appear to share his understanding. He was scrutinizing the guest, his gray eyes pausing, for the space of several heartbeats, on the forearm Peter was kneading restlessly.
"What is it you need to go home for? Prongs might already have it."
"I need to check a few spells," Peter assured. "I won't take long."
With a nod to them both, he strode out to the entry hall and threw his cloak across his shoulders, waving off James's solicitudes.
A snap of the door, a soft pop, and he was gone.
Swiftly, James walked back into the living room, where Sirius was pacing up and down, a shadow of unease on his face.
"I don't like this, Prongs," he declared earnestly. "I don't like this one bit."
James knew he was not referring to Lily's capture.
"Did you notice how twitchy he became by the end?" Sirius scowled. "Have you ever heard anything comparable? From Wormtail?"
Unsettled by the turn the conversation was taking, James listened quietly.
"We've known him for eight years, Prongs. Personally, I can't remember the last time he did a thing on his own. And now, on a simple impulse, he followed Snape to Knockturn Alley, eavesdropped on a Death Eater meeting, and presented us with a plan he would never be able to improvise on the spot. How likely is it?"
"Are you implying he lied about Lily?"
"Maybe not. But I don't feel we can trust his story."
James heaved a breath of distress and frustration, running a hand through his hair. It cost him a great effort to form his next words.
"You were looking at his arm."
Sirius's chiseled features paled imperceptibly, but his voice did not waver. "Yes."
Peter was conversant with the Death Eaters' intentions. He was informed of their customs and could even provide a precise idea of the magic Voldemort had recourse to in order to subjugate his victims. When Sirius had put him a direct question, he had taken flight like a spooked hare. And unless it had been an auditory illusion, he had nearly called Voldemort the Dark Lord...a title favored by the wizard's followers.
Dread closed on James's chest like a vice.
"Suppose this appalling accusation is true and he is one of them. Isn't he staking his life by revealing their secrets?"
"Then he should have told us earlier, not at the last minute." It was Sirius's turn to hesitate. "It could be a trap."
"Perhaps. But if it isn't..." It was unnecessary to complete the sentence. If Peter had spoken the truth and the Death Eaters enslaved Lily, he would not survive the pain. "No matter what happens, I have to go. If Lily is there, I'll save her. I won't let Snivellus hurt her any more."
Unsurprised, Sirius fixed him with a long look and nodded.
"I'll come with you. But let's call Moony. We'll need his help."
James turned toward the window and closed his eyes. Memories of Lily's beautiful smiling face enveloped his mind, filled his entire being.
"Expecto Patronum," he cried out, raising his wand. A dazzling silver stag blossomed in the air and dashed through the window into the snow-covered alley.
***
The Lestranges' mansion loomed in the snowstorm like an immense, blurry shadow with a multitude of sharp angles and turret-like chimneys. The heavy, rectangular windows were black on all the floors. Protected by their strongest Disillusionment Charm, James, Sirius, and Remus strode toward the front gate, crouching against the wind, yet grateful for the violent tempest, for it perfected their camouflage.
Peter had not returned. An owl had arrived in his stead, bringing them a piece of parchment which contained a seventeen-syllable-long incantation and Peter's apologies. According to this succinct note, he was being delayed and they ought to proceed without him. James and Sirius had shared a dark glance, but there was no turning back. They had taken the risk, cast the incantation and penetrated through the protective wards as easily as though those were mist. The simple part ended there.
The gate swung open at their approach. Shaking snow off his hair and coat, James retrieved his Invisibility Cloak and motioned to Remus, ending the enchantment. Sirius transformed. Since they could no longer hide under the Cloak together without letting their feet protrude from the hem, Sirius, the tallest of the three, preferred to assume his animal form and run by his companions' side, concealed by a Disillusionment Charm. Aside from an effective disguise, this ruse presented a precious advantage: when transformed, Padfoot possessed the extraordinary olfactory senses of a dog.
The entrance hall was deserted. It was vast and cold; the fire on the grand hearth, topped by the macabre skull of a horned dragon, was extinguished. Carefully, they stepped into an assembly room. The windows were so tall they immersed the chamber in a ghostly shine, although not a flame flickered in the chandelier or the fireplace. The Marauders bypassed the long table with its countless chairs, eyeing mistrustfully the vigilant portraits and tapestries on the walls.
A gloomy corridor stretched before them, lined with even more paintings. While Padfoot sniffed at their surroundings to show the way, James pulled out his wand and murmured, "Homenum Revelio." The sensation of a presence swooping upon him confirmed his hopes: they were not alone. He nodded at Remus.
Chambers and hallways succeeded each other, chilly and lifeless. The furniture was rather heavy than elegant, though there could be no denying the residence had been decorated with both taste and luxury. Every door they walked through caused James's heart to plummet deeper in his chest, as the silence around them presaged no good. Despite Peter's claims, the mansion did not seem to be hosting an army of Death Eaters preparing for a ritual; it was empty and much more likely to constitute the trap Sirius had suspected. But he refused to admit Peter might have lied to them. There were people in this manor, and he had to find them. They would know where Lily was staying.
After crossing a series of rooms, they reached the staircase to the next floor. Padfoot mounted it without hesitation. At the top of the stairs, he hastened his pace and bristled up. James's breath caught in his throat in anticipation; he gripped his wand more tightly, and so did Remus. They were in a rectangular hallway that led to six closed doors, three on each side. At Padfoot's sign, they marched to the first one on their left, and he instantly smelled the doorstep, growling softly.
"He's in there, isn't he?" Remus said.
Sirius adopted his human form and freed himself of the Disillusionment Charm. The snarl he gave was not unworthy of his Animagus self. "Yes."
"Is Lily with him?" James asked at once.
Sirius shook his head. "No, but he's got company."
An oblong keyhole was visible below the elaborate door handle. Digging into his pocket, James produced an oval piece of blue glass, slipped out of the Cloak and dropped to his knees, placing the object against the narrow hole. It magnified the image tenfold, allowing him to inspect the room without great obstacle. The chamber was spacious, richly decorated. He discerned two figures seated at a chess table and gesticulating dramatically as though in argument...Rookwood and Macnair, he was positive. Off to their side, Lucius Malfoy was reclining on a couch, his icy eyes attached to the players with a mild interest. And there, by the window, two men stood in deep conversation. Hatred swelled in James's chest as he recognized Snape's tall black silhouette, his statue-like posture, his repugnant oily hair. The other person was one of the Lestrange brothers...Rodolphus, considering his slim frame.
"He's in there with Malfoy, Macnair, Rookwood, and Rodolphus Lestrange." He scanned the contents of the chamber. "But there is a door at the back of the room. There might be more of them inside."
"Perhaps they keep Lily elsewhere in the house," Remus said, discarding the Cloak so they could hear him. "If we could find her and leave before they notice..."
It was, indeed, the most sensible option.
"What if we don't find her?" James's eyes drilled into the loathsome black silhouette. "What if she is in this back room?"
"We'll attack," Sirius promised.
With one last look at the reflection, James pulled away to rise when his peripheral vision caught a movement in the closed room. Malfoy had turned his head toward the door. A tiny smile was playing around his lips, and he was regarding...how could it be?...the keyhole James was peering through, as if trying to establish eye contact. James's heart skipped a beat.
"They know we're here," he breathed, watching the blond wizard lift himself from the couch in what was clearly meant to be an elegant swish of his robes.
"Wands out, quick!"
Malfoy's hand plunged into his robes, and James jumped to his feet, backing away from the door which was certain to explode any second. Alert, Sirius and Remus waited by his side.
"Let's blast it open!" Sirius whispered. "Then Stun whomever you can."
James nodded in assent, and it was this small move that made him perceive a twitch on the wall to his right. This twitch had been caused by the bland painting of a bearded man in a gray cape. The portrait surely had a twin painting in the adjacent chamber and must have warned Malfoy about their intrusion.
"Bombarda Maxima!"
The stream of light from Sirius's wand blew the door into pieces, and a heartbeat later, the three of them were firing Stunning Spells through the cloud of dust and fragments of wood.
One of the scarlet shots rebounded from the wall and shattered a vase. The second charm was deflected by Malfoy, who, judging from his smug expression, had expected to be attacked. James's spell was reserved for Snape, but instead it hit Lestrange, making the man collapse to Snape's feet. Then an ear-piercing crash came from their right, where Rookwood and Macnair had sent the table flying out of their way. The four Death Eaters stationed themselves in the middle of the chamber, their wands pointing toward the entry. Snape's black eyes finally distinguished the invaders, and he sneered. James felt his blood boil in his veins. With a silent Protego on his lips, he burst into the room, followed by his friends.
"Where is she?" he growled.
"Who?" Snape retorted, his voice a concentration of malice and arrogance.
"Lily! Where is she?"
"That is none of your concern, Potter. She cares nothing for you."
The assertion was undoubtedly tailored to sting, yet it only served to fuel James's rage.
"If you don't tell me where she is, I'll curse each and every one of you, and I'll break more than your slimy face, Snivellus."
Snape smirked and raised his wand, poising himself for the combat. He could not express more eloquently that he accepted the challenge.
But before either wizard could charge, Malfoy and Rookwood cast the Torture Curse. Two jets of red light passed on both sides of James, and he heard with trepidation Sirius and Remus dash aside to dodge them. There was no time to rush to their defense: a billow of black vapor was soaring toward him from the tip of Snape's wand. He blocked it, dissipating it with a charm, and fired a Disarming Spell at his enemy, who promptly Disapparated to reemerge at the opposite end of the chamber, conjuring another thick ribbon of light. He still was sneering, but the look in his eyes was changing, gaining a disturbing gleam. The moment James fended off his curse, a new stream of fire was already licking at his face.
The air vibrated with incantations and clamor. He caught a glimpse of Sirius fighting off the combined attacks of Malfoy and Macnair while Remus was dueling Rookwood. His wand hand itched to knock at least one Death Eater unconscious and help his companions, but he could not let his attention drift away for so much as a split second. He had underestimated Snape. Every curse he received was frightfully precise, and he was positive some of them had only recently been invented. With both anger and alarm, he realized he was defending his position instead of assailing his nemesis. This was no way to win.
Once again, he attempted to Stun Snape, to no avail. The Dark wizard released in response a series of Cruciatus Curses at a very short interval, forcing James to take steps back until he reached the back of the room. With a sharp flick of Snape's wand, James felt himself brutally pushed against the wall, sore and gasping. He instinctively sensed a new spell flare toward him and dove to the ground as swiftly as he could. The next instant, a stream of green light produced a crack in the wall where his face had just been.
He heard Sirius roar in outrage. Shaking splinters from his head, he leapt to his feet, breathless but on his guard. His heart sank: Lestrange had recovered and joined the fight.
As soon as their number was complete, the Death Eaters' tactics changed. They started retreating as though intent on staying close together, but each of the men kept focus on the Marauder he was dueling. Their coordination was uncanny: they moved like a single giant creature, not once glancing at each other for guidance. James suddenly understood how they had become this powerful.
"Now!"
The command had come from Malfoy, who brandished his wand, as did his cronies. Five jets of green light shot in the trio's direction. In the ensuing boom, James crouched to the floor, casting a charm to protect himself from the large pieces of stone that were showering on him. To his immense relief, his friends let out a cry a few feet from him, and he knew they had avoided the curses in time. From his low position, he sent the Stinging Hex at the nearest Death Eater...Macnair...and watched the robust man tumble down with a shriek.
Malfoy ignored him.
"Again!"
This time, the Killing Curses were four; the Marauders eluded them in a deafening crash of sound. Pillars of dust hovered in the air like thick swarms of midges. James peered at Sirius's face to find it pale with fury.
"Moony!" his best friend shouted. "At the next!"
They threw themselves aside, away from the deadly green beams, and once the danger passed, Remus and Sirius fired the same curse at the group of enemies, much to James's dismay. He fleetingly reflected how well Sirius knew him, how he had chosen not to ask for his assistance, aware that James would never consent to kill.
The assault did not succeed, but it had the merit of breaking the Death Eaters' compact formation and dispersing them into different directions. The duels began anew.
Lestrange and Macnair...who, in the meantime, had shaken off James's Hex...turned against Remus while Rookwood and Malfoy strived to defeat Sirius. Snape, for his part, paid heed to none but James. There was something chilling about the way his four companions kept their distance from James, as though respecting Snape's claim to kill him on his own. The black-eyed wizard's gaze and motions were literally imbued with determination.
James felt no fear or exhaustion, only the burning urge to incapacitate the monsters and find Lily. The thought filled him with strength as he blocked Snape's sinister curses, reciprocating them to his best ability. He risked a glance at Remus, who was slowly being cornered and overpowered, and this small distraction was his undoing: a shot of magic hit him in the chest with the force of an iron fist. Once again, he was sent flying against the wall. Although the collision made all before his eyes go black, he thrashed fiercely, as his momentary weakness could have the most fatal consequences.
And then he heard a cry: a short, high-pitched cry of anguish. His heart gave a throb because it was the most beautiful voice he knew. He would recognize it anywhere.
Through heavy eyelids, he saw Lily's silhouette at the door to the adjoining chamber. Her hair was wild, and her eyes glowed. Without a second's hesitation, she lunged forward to James's defense.
Her abrupt intervention surprised the Death Eaters as much as it had the Marauders, and the streams of green light ceased on the spot. The men manifestly could not take a chance to harm her. Snape's wand hand, raised high for the ultimate curse, dropped...he had half-turned to look at her with a furious disbelief.
"Hold her!" he barked.
Macnair swooped on Lily, grabbing at her arm, but she elbowed him in the stomach with such abandon that he doubled over. Rookwood quit his duel to aid him. Thick ropes spurted out of the tip of his wand, entwining themselves around the girl's frame. He roughly pulled her to the back of the room.
James had already regained balance, and he could barely contain his rage at the sight of the yellow-eyed creep bruising Lily.
"Get your filthy hands off..."
His way, however, was obstructed by Snape, and he was forced to parry new spells.
While his colleagues dueled, Rookwood paced in the shadows like a large panther, observing them with his eerie amber eyes. Wriggling and desperate, Lily lay on the ground behind him, bound from shoulders to feet. A tiny part of James was grateful the man was at least shielding her with his body.
In the tumult of cracking and booms, another cry rose in the air. Sirius. From the corner of his eye, James discerned Malfoy's face, animated with a smile of pure malevolent glee. He was steadily approaching an injured, gasping Sirius, who seemed to be bleeding from his right side. Horror seized James like a nightmare come true. Summoning all the energy he could muster, he hurled a ball of fire into Snape's face and used the ensuing instant of confusion to Stun the blond pure-blood. Staggering, Sirius pointed his wand to his wound, his head thrown back in a strangled moan of pain, and an incantation on his lips. His hasty healing charm lived to its purpose, for he straightened up and rushed to Remus's help.
James felt giddy with agitation and alarm. When his attention was reclaimed by Snape, he poured his inexpressible emotions into an exchange of quick, dangerous hexes. In the end. Snape's wand flew from his hand and landed yards away. He was finally disarmed.
Right then, a thundering Crucio! split the chamber, and from her spot on the ground, Lily screamed in agony. It was as though James's heart had been smashed to smithereens.
"NO!"
His nemesis forgotten, he darted toward her. This was enough for Rookwood to release the girl from the curse and look up, his smug eyes shifting beyond James in a meaningful nod. White-hot pain engulfed the Marauder. Although it was not the Cruciatus, the sensation was nearly as dreadful and intense, causing him to collapse on the ground in a shuddering heap. He heard a burst of voices, but it took his disoriented mind a few seconds to comprehend them.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Saving your bloody life, Severus."
"Keep her out of this!"
"You'd be dead if I had."
He was scrambling to his feet. His bones hurt, his muscles hurt even more, and his breaths escaped in hissing rasps. Glancing over his shoulder, he realized the curse had been cast by Lestrange. To distract the Death Eater, Remus and Sirius were now assailing Macnair.
In the meantime, Snape had recovered his wand, and Rookwood had revived the unconscious Malfoy. Resisting despair was becoming more and more challenging. This was not going to end.
It was by sheer force of will that James continued fighting as vigorously as before, ignoring his growing fatigue and pain. Snape had noticed: he could see it in the bastard's smirk. There was no telling whether his enemy had tired as well.
Hatred rose inside James, scorching and suffocating. How he loathed him.
"Crucio!"
For the first time in his life, the shot of red light left his wand, and he did not regret it in the least. But Snape deflected it easily and let the magic crash into the wall, where it blasted a hole. Then he laughed.
"Potter, don't tell me you have grown up to use the Unforgivables! What an honor it is to be your first... target."
"Levicorpus!" James yelled, slightly red faced. He was not interested in trading obscene insults with anyone, especially Snivellus.
Remarkably, the black-eyed wizard went silent as he blocked this spell; a hint of anger even flashed in his gaze. He responded with the Conjunctivitis Curse, which James dodged. As he did so, the latter took note of three details that frightened him greatly: Remus was bleeding, Rookwood had gone back to fight, and Lily was gone, her ropes lying severed on the floor. Had she broken free once Rookwood had abandoned his post, or had one of the Marauders helped her? So long as she was safe, it did not matter. Before James could scan the room for a sign of auburn hair, though, a stream of blue light missed him by half an inch.
Three more hexes followed. The first one injured Snape on the shoulder. The second one burned a mark on James's thigh. The third one accidentally hit Sirius, expelling the wand from his hand. Then a curse came swishing from James's left, and a tremendous force lifted him off to project him across the chamber. He was slammed into the wall so hard his bones creaked.
For a while, there was nothing, only distant shouting and commotion in the darkness. His body ached all over. A warm trickle was running down his face, and he mused wearily what it could be. All he knew was that he still was alive, and this intrigued him. Why were they delaying...to kill him when he was fully conscious?
A sweet fragrance drifted to him, filling his nose and pervading his senses. Sea fragrance, he divined. He had always liked the scent of this perfume on her. A feeble smile lit his face.
His eyelids fluttered and let in a glimpse of red: a gorgeous mane of wavy dark red hair. She was there, and she was protecting him...shielding him with her own body. For an instant, she turned her head, and in her brief, penetrating look of anxiety and resolution, he read everything he needed to know. She loved him.
His tenderness and ecstasy were overwhelming. No one in the world could hurt him any more; he feared nothing. Ignoring the pain, he rose to his feet and tucked Lily behind him. As if intent on protecting him at any cost, she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. It was the sweetest minute in his last months, perhaps in his entire life.
Sirius and Remus emerged by his side, both wandless yet determined. They positioned themselves by either side of the couple, forming a defensive formation around Lily. James raised his eyes at the five Death Eaters, who were advancing, eyes gleaming, wands at the ready, and felt nothing but disgust. He would fight for Lily until he dropped dead. Since his wand was lost, it might not take long, but he did not care.
All the Death Eaters, he could see, bore traces of the struggle. They were eyeing the Marauders with the calculating expressions of prey beasts. Except for Snape. Snape was watching Lily alone, and his stare was impassive. On instinct, James drew back, anxious to protect his love.
Then, to James's amazement, Snape lowered his wand and took a step forward.
"Lily," he said, "if you leave now, the Dark Lord will kill me."
And good riddance, too, James thought savagely. Being slain by your idol is all you wankers deserve.
Lily jerked and straightened up. She must have peered at him from behind James's shoulder, for Snape nodded.
"That's what he told me a week ago at the meeting. Should you leave, should I lose you, he would kill me."
There was a tiny whimper, and Lily withdrew her arms from around James, who suddenly understood what Snape was trying to do.
NO! No way! Over his dead body!
As though sensing the turmoil in his mind, Sirius and Remus closed around Lily to better obstruct her way. Remus leaned to her and whispered, "Don't listen. He's lying...he just wants to get you back. You don't owe him anything. Don't let them trick you."
"As a matter of fact"...this was Malfoy's arrogant, wily drawl..."the Dark Lord won't have to bother. We'll kill him ourselves. It is our duty as the Dark Lord's most faithful followers to do the dirty work for him."
He threw a meaningful glance at his fellows, who grasped Snape at once, their wands pointing at his throat.
"You see," he went on nonchalantly, "what makes us so much more powerful than your pathetic Order is the fact that we don't suffer the faulty members of our circle to live. We take care of them the way a gardener would sever the rotten branches from a tree to keep it strong and healthy. If Severus proves himself unworthy of the Dark Lord's trust, we'll make sure he never taints our Lord with his presence again."
This was so transparent...Snape did not even wince when they took hold of him. They were not going to harm him, this much was obvious. But he kept gazing at Lily, willing her to take the bait.
And to James's horror, she did. He could hear her moan behind him despite Remus's relentless words of reassurance.
The hell he would allow them to recapture her.
Sneering at her misery, Malfoy waved his hand to let his men proceed.
"Avada..." Macnair rasped.
"Stop!"
The five Death Eaters looked expectantly at Lily.
"Leave him alone!" she demanded, and there was an edge to her voice, a distinct note of hysteria.
"Lily, listen to me," James whispered over his shoulder. "It's a trick. Don't mind their lies. Please, stay with me."
She did not seem to have heard, though. He turned back to his enemies, just in time to catch sight of Malfoy and Lestrange flicking their wands at him. He and Sirius were brutally pushed to one side while Remus was pushed to the other, leaving an empty space for Lily to run out of their protective circle... straight into Snape's open arms. The second he embraced her, she burst into tears. The greasy bastard then smiled over her head.
James had the impression the floor was sliding beneath him, getting out of shape and out of all proportion. The single points that did not budge in his distorted vision were Snape's black eyes above Lily, who was slowly going to pieces. He came forward, his pace wobbly...he did not realize he was shaking with a rage so extreme it had made his mind go utterly blank...and all at once, four wands were pointing at his chest. Four faces were grinning at him.
Lily sobbed out a few words into Snape's shoulder: a barely intelligible Let them go.
"But of course," he replied with mock gentleness. "Gentlemen, we will see you safely out. You are free to go, and I suggest that you take this opportunity to heart. The rest of my colleagues are on an errand, but they will be joining us shortly. And while I'm sure they would be charmed to meet you here, the pleasure might not be quite mutual."
He stroked Lily's hair before burying his nose in her curls.
James saw red. He was going to rip Snape's throat open with his nails if this were what it took. Never mind the outcome.
When, however, he attempted to approach the Death Eater, a shot of white light darted from one of the drawn wands and propelled him several yards backward. Hands yanked at his clothes from aside: Sirius and Remus were pulling him away despite his efforts to break free, and they were talking to him, only he could hear nothing besides a peculiar drumming in his ears...not even his own voice. Was he screaming? It felt this way: his lips were moving feverishly, and his throat was on fire.
As strong arms hauled him out of the chamber, Lily swam out of his view, though the image of her frail, sobbing figure was burned into his very eyelids.
***
Severus stared down at Lily's sleeping form bathed in soft candlelight. Her ivory features were now serene. He had been compelled to resort to a Memory Charm, two doses of Calming Potion, and a vial of Sleeping Draught to appease her hysteria. Her sleep was currently close to coma. Once she awoke, though, she would feel refreshed and would remember nothing of the day's events. The house-elves had already restored the demolished chamber to its original state, and a group of Death Eaters had left to notify the Dark Lord of the Marauders' visit.
Pettigrew had switched sides, this was beyond doubt; none of the loyal Death Eaters would have disclosed their plans to Potter. An hour ago, Avery and Mulciber had raided the rat's house to find it deserted. They would have to endure the Dark Lord's wrath, for it had been their duty to keep the fickle spy under surveillance. Tense with apprehension, they were pacing across Lestrange's drawing room, expecting their Dark Marks to go ablaze any instant.
The consequences of this recent battle, however, were far from unfavorable for their side. For one, Pettigrew was a virtual cadaver. Severus would not have to Crucio him to death after all: there would hardly be anything left of the rodent after the Dark Lord had finished with him. Unless, of course, the Animagus had decided to take refuge in the Order. How would he be received? Would Dumbledore believe him innocent in spite of the evidence? It was no secret Pettigrew was a spectacularly poor Occlumens.
In fact, all was going rather well. It had been most entertaining to watch Potter lose his temper as he was dragged away by his sidekicks, screaming and struggling like a male banshee. Severus would have preferred to end the trio's lives when the occasion was afforded, but it had been wiser to let them go. If Dumbledore had lost four members of his Order in such a short interval of time, he would counterattack for certain. Thus far, Lily was a lone deserter, and retrieving her would be too dangerous. All, indeed, was well. Except he could feel no satisfaction.
His folded hands were clenched into fists so tight his nails were leaving marks on his palms.
She had been ready to run off with Potter. She had all but escaped...with no regret, not so much as a glance back. His fellows had had to blackmail her with his life before she had deigned to rejoin them. The whore.
For a moment, he toyed with the idea of recovering her memory after the ritual was complete: she deserved to know how close she had been to evasion. Then he dismissed the whim. Too many of her memories revolved around Potter. It also was time he stopped tampering with her mind, lest the magic damage it irrevocably. Besides, there were more ways than one to make her suffer. The next night...the night succeeding her initiation...he would let her see a glimpse of his darker desires. If only she had not betrayed him, he would feel inclined to be lenient with her.
At present, what he needed most was to vent his rage. There was a Muggle village five miles away; a century of proximity with the Lestrange residence had caused it to wither, but it would suffice. Fury seemed to run in his veins in place of blood, and his combat with Potter appeared distant to him. With a few careful flicks of his wand, he set up powerful wards around the bed. It was unlikely she would wake up before twelve hours were over, but he was no longer willing to take his chances.
As he locked the door, it occurred to him he owed a bottle of firewhisky to both Lucius and Augustus for having helped him out of danger when it had mattered most.
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