WHO: James and Lily Potter and a few... friends
WHAT: They arrive home early from their honeymoon to a bit of a surprise.
WHERE: Their house in Liverpool for a wee bit!
WHEN: August 1st, around 7pm
Lying wasn’t the best of things to do to your friends, but when it got you two days of absolute peace to unpack and unravel from what was probably the best two weeks of your life, it was okay. They’d scheduled their vacation days until they had to return to work on the fourth, so the newlyweds were kind of cheating the system, but who could blame them, really?
Lily had never been happier to walk into her house. Sure, now that the honeymoon was over there was no more relaxing and no more laying in bed all day and no more mornings and afternoons and nights straight of--ahem--and now they had to both go back to work and--no, but she was happy to be back home. The flight back from Fiji had been madness and sleep was impossible when you had a husband who somehow hadn't been worn out of airplanes by hours and hours of flying back and forth and spent the whole time asking you how planes stay up, even if you had told him in the first five minutes that you didn't really know and--just, needless to say, there was no place like home.
"Mum, Dad, we're home!" she called as she set her suitcase down by the front door. Strangely, her voice seemed to echo. It sounded like she was talking to an empty house. Furrowing her brow, Lily took a few more steps inside. "Mum? Dad?" Same result, and no response came.
She turned back to James, as if he had the answer to where her parents could have gone. "Are they... out for dinner? When I called Mum, she said they'd be home when we got here.."
“Lily!” James said through his laughter, dropping all of his suitcases (and Lily’s, and the bags they’d picked up with presents, “Mrs. Potter---you’re supposed, oh, come here you nut—“
James wouldn’t let himself get annoyed that she was off and searching for her parents already, the first minute back from their honeymoon---he was in far too good of a mood to let that get to him and before waiting for Lily to respond he came up behind her and swooped her off her feet in the traditional ‘over the threshold’ position. “Silly Lily,” James said, loving that rhyme for quite some time now, “Now we’ve got to go back outside.”
Without hesitation James walked them back to the door and made a show of shutting it and jumbling for his keys while managing to keep Lily up in his arms. That’s how you did it, right? At least that’s what he’d seen in the shows and magazines Lily and her mum had been watching these last few weeks. Not even bothering to shut the front door, James carried Lily into the kitchen, thinking that maybe he wanted to show off how strong he was (or thought he was) by holding her for longer than necessary. “Ooh, look, a present.”
"James, I--" Lily stuttered as she was swept up into his arms. For a moment, she didn't even know what was happening, having been so intent upon finding her parents, but when she realized that she was in his arms and he was walking outside and--she caught on quickly. Involuntarily, she laughed and latched her hands around the back of his neck and hoisted herself up more securely in his hold.
"You're ridiculous," she told him good-naturedly as he continued to carry her through the house, past the door, all the way into kitchen and--she too was distracted by the box sitting on the counter. James apparently wasn't planning on letting her down still, so she waited until he went over to where she could see the note attached to the top. It was addressed to them, from her parents.
James and Lily,
A little something for your hospitality.
Love,
Mum and DadJames grinned widely at the gift; aw, okay, that was really nice of them, giving the newlyweds the house for the night of their return.
“They’re probably at Tuney’s---” James joked, having overheard Lily call her sister that the other day, and reached out to pull the ribbon off the top of the present. It was big and blue, with polka dots all over the box and James could only imagine what they’d given them. Really, his father had said (he’d been the one to take all their presents back to the house) that they literally had two rooms full of stuff and---
---the horribly familiar feeling of a portkey tugging at his naval erupted through his body and James was quite sure he was going to die.
He landed roughly with Lily still in his arms, and managed only to drop to one knee at the impact. They were in a dark, damp---damp what, dark and damp what, James couldn’t think and put Lily on the ground quickly, his arm immediately going in front of her to push him behind him, brandishing his wand immediately.
“Lumos,” he whispered quickly, and when his wand didn’t light, James felt like the walls should crumble upon them now. No…no, no, no, not now, not now. They’d just gotten back, they’d just---
“Lily?” a familiar voice called, and James recognized it immediately as her father’s, but he didn’t move, not after this, not after this winter, no, no---
“Show yourselves!” James shouted, his wand still out even though he was quite sure he couldn’t perform any magic. Lights flickered on all around them, and James’ stomach twisted even harder.
Lily could hardly register what was going on, all she knew was that she knew that feeling of being roughly tugged into the air and it was all she could do to grasp onto James with all her might to not be thrown away from him. It was almost a relief when they were finally set (probably too nice a word for it, more like smashed) down onto the ground in...wherever they were, she had no idea, all she knew was that the air on her bare arms had suddenly turned very chilly.
A few seconds passed, and she dared to open her eyes, although frightened of what she would see. The first thing she saw was James' arm, blocking the center of her vision because apparently he had set her down--and she hadn't even noticed, only that she felt cold and that this didn't feel right at all, this didn't seem right.
"Lily?"
A hint of warmth filled her veins at the voice of her father, but it could do nothing to stop the nagging feeling that something was inherently wrong about this.
"Da--" James' shout cut her off, sending a strain of panic into her. She wasn't the only one, James sounded frightened and no, this couldn't be--and then the lights came on.
Before her eyes even had time to focus on the room, on the group of dark figures in cloaks that was surrounding them on all sides, Lily felt two strong hands on her arms, and her hand on her husband's arm was pulled away. Survival instinct running through her, she screamed loudly in protest, but a gloved hand to her mouth muffled her cry. Held tightly by what she could feel was a female body, Lily looked up into the, oddly, unmasked face of her captor.
The world could have crashed down around her at the moment Samantha Evans smiled down at her.
"Now, now, darling... what's all the fuss?"
“LILY!” James screamed, but his mouth was covered my a large hand as he continued struggling against the arms that had grabbed onto him as well. Death Eaters, Death Eaters had Lily, they had Lily and they had him and they had Lily and James didn’t stop pulling against the strong grip they had around his arms and waist until he was knocked in the back of the head with something rather heavy and forced down to his knees.
“Keep it up, Potter,” one of them growled from behind, grabbing hair from the back of his head and tilting his neck back. James got a good look at the masks of the three Death Eaters holding him down before he turned back to where Lily was being held and began to shout for her again.
“DON’T TOUCH HER---GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!” James couldn’t understand the insane fear of Lily’s mother right now, because fucking hell she was so God damn calm, had they told her to—had they---out of the corner of his eye he saw Lily’s father approach, but, he—he was…he was growing? Clark Evans had always been a short man (about the same height as James, really) but as James’ eyes locked onto him, his ears catching onto the man’s whistling…what song…what song was that…he realized that the figure approaching him was no longer that of Clark Evans, as the older man’s hair turned from grayed dark brown to short and black. James couldn’t breathe as the man he vaguely recognized from his childhood at what had to be some ministry event or---or even Hogwarts, he was a few years older, fucking---
“Eight days a week,” the man that had been Clark Evans muttered, taking James’ chin in his hand, and James’ eyes shot toward Samantha Evans’, whose red hair had turned a deep, dark black, “is not enough to show I care.”
There were no words to properly describe the absolute pain that Lily felt at watching her mother--her mother's face--melt away and... it was worse than any Cruciatus curse could do, and she couldn't even understand--she didn't know--of course she recognized the signs of a polyjuice potion but--how could this not be her--did this mean that--
A million thoughts were swimming through Lily's head, but as the transformation finally finished, as the woman who was not her mother's hair blackened, grew longer, as her facial features sharpened, as she grew in height and her nails lengthened, piercing her arms where she was held uncomfortably, only one thought was absolutely clear.
Bellatrix Black.
"No--" Lily choked, fear and pain and fury and a lack of comprehension overwhelming her. Somewhere in the far distance she heard James still shouting, but that was far away from where she was now... no... no no--nonononono--
Bellatrix cackled in that twisted manner that only she could, and yet her smile was still so maternal as she looked down upon Lily. It was so wrong. So wrong. "Surprise," she hissed softly into the other woman's ear. "Have a nice honeymoon?"
The Death Eater---Montague, that’s the name, he---yes, fucking hell James remembered him from the quidditch team---Montague lifted his chin high, moving his head back and forth to examine him carefully as if he were an animal he’d just hunted down in the forest, if he was good enough to take home as a prize.
“You defied the Dark Lord?” Montague whispered, low enough for only James to hear, and in a whirl of realization James figured it out. Just like the attack on Frank---this was revenge, it was revenge from escaping back in January, from not joining his ranks, oh---fuck, fuck, and James began to struggle again even with Montague’s grip on his chin tightening with each passing second. “You’re wasting energy. You’re going to need it.”
He stood, motioning with two fingers toward the Death Eaters holding James and the man was tugged to his feet where he immediately began to struggle again, and for a fleeting second he felt the tip of a wand pressed to his lower back before the cruciatus curse was set upon him. He couldn’t stop the scream he emitted and didn’t feel his feet be dragged along the ground as he was moved across the room and thrown to the ground through what felt like a shield. James proved his weary thoughts as he pushed forward, only to be knocked back by the field. Groaning, he pushed himself up against the wall and fixed his glasses (always---fucking---lopsided) and tried to find Lily in the crowd.
She wasn't particularly difficult to find, to tell the truth, and the Death Eaters were making sure of that. On either side of Bellatrix, they parted like the Red Sea, and the cloaked woman dragged her defeated, stunned-into-inaction prey forth by the back of her shirt to a spot just meters away from where James stood. As Lily wearily raised her head to stare at James, her eyes were blank, ghostly even, just.. completely lost. She felt just... numb. This woman, these people, this place--none of this could be really happening, could it? No, it was just a dream, all she had to do was balance in this state of lulled numbness for a little while longer and then she'd eventually open her eyes and everything would be okay.
Bellatrix pulled Lily up to face level and cocked her head in taunting confusion. "No reaction, pet? Not even a yell for your poor husband's torture?" she asked. Lily barely heard her. She wasn't listening to anything, what was this woman talking about... "Pity... Well, maybe we'll get a bit more out of him."
After all the lack of feeling she'd been having, to have the Cruciatus cast upon her and have such a distinct and fiery pain erupt in her body, down to the very marrow of her bones--it was too much. The scream that escaped Lily's lips was blood-curdling and nothing short of it. Bella threw her down onto the ground in a crumpled pile at her feet and aimed her wand from above, waving it and controlling her victim's writhing like a demented master of a marionette. Her eyes sparkled with the absolute pleasure of her task, and that pleasure only heightened as she glanced up to James in expectation.
"What do you think, Potter!" she shouted, her sentence punctuated with loud laughter. "Enjoying the show?"
James had managed to get to his feet and no matter how much the shield forcing him apart from Lily burnt his fists he continued to bang and pound against it, screaming, screaming for Lily, cursing at the death eaters and begging them to take him instead. This was worse than the curse they’d just put him under, his insides continued to burn at the sight of his wife, his wife lying on the ground in the utmost pain, and didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face until Montague casually mentioned it.
“Oh, look, Potter’s crying. What a waste of a pureblood.” Montague stood in front of James’ view and James moved back and forth to try and catch sight of Lily again but it seemed like the Death Eater took up every last centimeter of space. “How far back does the Potter line go? Six, seven, generations? And you’ve got Black in you, do you? Your mother must’ve been a right idiot if she went and married into the biggest blood traitors outside of the damned Weasleys—“
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” James roared, slamming his hands back onto the field and grimacing greatly at the shock that was going through him for it. “LET HER GO! LET LILY GO!”
“Oy…Potter, we can’t do that just yet, we’re waiting for---“
There was a loud and ear piercing crack, and Montague’s face quirked up with a smile and a slight tilt of his head. His nose actually scrunched slightly in what James could only call excitement, and his heart dropped into the acids of his stomach as Montague stepped away and revealed Lord Voldemort standing besides Bellatrix Lestrange. The dark mark that had been carved into James’ left arm burnt fiercely and he felt like it was going to crumble into ashes, but James kept his hands on the field feeling as if he was building up energy by doing so.
Lord Voldemort looked down at the writhing girl, then to Bella. “Bella, I knew there was only one person who could complete this job as perfectly as yourself.” Out of the corner of his eye James saw Montague stiffen, but immediately looked back at the Dark Lord, who was staring straight at him.
“James…long time no see.”
It seemed eons before Bellatrix snapped her wrist away from Lily, breaking the curse, although it had only been a minute or so, and she had done so immediately upon her master's arrival. The Death Eater dropped to one knee instantly at his words and crossed her arm over his chest, raising only her head to stare up at him with eyes gleaming with the excitement of his praise. "Thank you, my Lord," she said quickly. "I set the portkey to bring them here last night, and the room has been warded against their wands for weeks. They will not be able to escape."
She apparently didn't care that she nor Voldemort were including mention of Adrian's work on this whole mission--but truly, she didn't. If Voldemort had decided to recognize only Bella, then it was an opportune chance that she would just have to jump at, no matter how ired her colleague became. She was more important, anyway.
Voldemort gave no reply, but motioned with his wand hand to have her rise back to her feet. He was far more focused on the Potter boy before him... the silly boy, looking so pathetic holding onto that wall as if his life depended upon it, sobbing in pain shared with his mudblood slag, eyes wide and fearful, as they rightly should be. It was a beautiful sight, indeed.
Lily stirred on the floor, having to nearly pry her own eyelids open... Merlin, her whole body ached all the way through, like she had been thrown down a flight of stairs over and over and had finally been just left to lay there and die. It hurt to lift her head, but before her she could see the black cloak of Bellatrix, and another, just as familiar cloak a few feet away... With some strain, Lily shakily pushed herself up a bit further, to one elbow to see better who this person was that she couldn't quite remember right now--
--she had not been prepared for the feeling of being stunned into awareness that followed. It was like she had swallowed an ice cube, the feeling of cold absolute fear that raced through her. No--no---it couldn't be him, no--this had just gotten so much worse, oh fuck--she'd take a million Bellatrix Black's to him--
He opened his mouth to speak his little amused greeting to James in that creepily sibilant voice of his, and Lily wasn't sure what came over her, but she was very suddenly overwhelmed by searing anger.
"FUCK YOU!" she screamed in a voice that was not her own. She had never heard herself like she heard herself now. "FUCK YOU! LEAVE US ALONE, YOU BASTARD, DON'T YOU SPEAK A WORD TO HIM!"
If James didn’t know it before, this was the reason why he married Lily.
The grin that had slid onto his face was wiped off immediately as Voldemort whipped his wand up and smacked Lily with—not even his hand, with a spell as if he couldn’t bear to touch a muggleborn, and James slammed on the field again with a roar. The death eaters around him were barely containing their laughter, and he hated them, hated them so fucking much---he’d never wanted to kill someone before but if it would wipe that shit-eating grin off Montague’s face, or knock the glitter in Lestrange’s eyes----he’d do it, he could do it.
Lord Voldemort didn’t hesitate in stepping forward after Lily was smacked away, and tilted his head back and forth as he watched James continue to holler and scream for Lily through the field. Why the fuck was there a field if James couldn’t use his wand? There was no need to hold him back, what the---why…why was he behind…
“I’ll stop, you know,” Voldemort’s voice was quiet, almost soothing. James’ eyes widened only slightly as he was immediately reminded of the gentle tone the Dark Lord had always taken with him and Frank over the winter. The mark on his arm throbbed violently, but it began to give off a warm, almost---it felt like one of those pain relief potions that James was constantly giving out at St. Mungo’s. Voldemort was healing him, he was--- “Just agree to come along with me, and I’ll let her go. It’s simple, really.”
James’ mouth was tight; he was biting down on the insides of his cheeks as the idea of letting Lily off free was far more appealing than giving himself to Lord Voldemort’s service. These death eaters looked happy, he could---no, it would never---he could never---even if he did, who could really take the Dark Lord’s word? He’d hurt him before, not like he promised---with that last, more than upsetting and confusing thought, James stepped toward the field, pressing his hands against the burning wall once again and staring Voldemort straight in the eyes.
“Fuck. Off.”
The dark wizard’s lips curled and without his eyes leaving James’, he said, “Kill her.”
“NOOO!” James screamed, and he punched the field again, only this time he felt what could only be related to an electric shock shoot through his arm, both arms, through his hands and fingers and he watched as the shimmer of the field flew down into the ground and Lord Voldemort was knocked off his feet along with the rest of the death eaters. He paused for barely a second because his body felt ready to collapse within itself before rushing over to Lily, who had been pulled to her feet most likely to be killed----and caught her, he caught her and----door, there was----a----“Come on, Lil, come on, we’ve got---!”
Lily held onto James' hand as if for dear life--and honestly, it probably was for dear life, because if they didn't take this chance, they were as good as dead--and forced her legs to move, to run, despite the fire coursing through her whole body. She forced herself to run faster than she ever had before towards that door, it was the only thing she could see right now, that door and James beside her and that was all she needed to force herself to keep moving.
Behind them, the Death Eaters and Voldemort were quickly coming to their senses, standing up and looking around to find where their victims had gone--Bellatrix screamed in anger, realizing before the others, and brandished her wand. Towards them.
Green lights flashed past their heads, but Lily had to ignore it--if they hit them, they hit them, they just had to keep running and hope that they were lucky and they didn't--
They didn't.
But they almost did.
Just as they reached the door, Lily looked back, and just in time to duck below the path of a curse (Bellatrix wasn't the only one now), she got out of the way. Instead, the--Stunning spell, she thought that's what she saw, but really who cared at this point--hit the door, blasting it, its frame, and part of the wall on either side into pieces. She had to cover her head and neck with her arms as she turned her back to the flying debris, and for a moment afterwards they were engulfed in dust from the explosion.
The dust stung in her eyes, but she opened them, groping out for the hand she had lost when she had dodged the spell--finally, she felt James, and grabbed onto his arm and pulled them through the hole in the wall, coughing and sputtering, lungs burning, but safe.
Merlin’s pants, it was the best feeling in the world, Lily’s grip on his arm, and James didn’t hesitate in tugging her through the debris that had engulfed them. James pulled out his wand as he somehow recalled that Lestrange had only mentioned that the room they’d previously been in was warded, not the entire house---he sent off a spell that cleared a path through the dust in front of them and raced through, trying his best to keep standing because the shock he sent through that room literally felt like he’d ripped out all of the magic inside of him. James was panting greatly but shot off a shield behind them to get some distance between the pair and the death eaters that were chasing them---they were in a big manor, a big, fancy---
“In here,” James hissed, ducking into a room whose door had been left open. He shut it quickly and put as many locking spells as possible before crossing to the room to the window and---James dropped his head to the glass for a moment, he felt so weak and out of breath, and checked the window for wards before pushing it open. They needed the Order, they needed their help---“Expecto Patronum!”
But the patronus fizzled and dropped the two stories down to the ground and James felt like dropping to the ground. “Lily---Lily the patronus, you’ve got to send it, I can’t---“
Of all the fucking bloody times to fail at magic. James turned back to the door where he heard footsteps thudding past, and knew that they had to get the patronus out and…probably jump out the fucking window. He could tell that the wards on the house---they felt like his home, he could feel the anti-apparation spells. They’d have to jump, fucking----
As James went about his work putting locks on the door, Lily was drawn to the detail of the room that they found themselves in. A strange thing to be concerned about, given their present situation, but while they had a moment alone and away from the Death Eaters, she found that she was inexplicably interested in this place. The room was decorated with a recurring theme of silver and emerald--not surprising, given their welcoming committee downstairs--and there were artworks and finely crafted pieces of furniture everywhere. It was more like she was in a palace exhibit at a museum than in someone's home.
Lily made her way over to the fireplace, above which there was a portrait of a rather imposing man in dark, meticulously woven clothes. Surprisingly, he didn't look as if he was much older than the two of them were--he could only be twenty-six, at best. Turning around, the other wall was taken up completely by a tapestry, woven in on it in silver lines what looked to be something of a tree... a family tree.
Like Sirius had talked about? Was this like the Black family tapestry that he had always spoken of being blown off of?
In the darkness, she had to squint a bit to see, but upon coming closer, Lily could tell that the whole of the thing was written in Welsh--Welsh, did that mean they were in Wales? It didn't really matter at the moment anyway, but-- James was the one that could read Welsh, so she was no better than lost, but there was one thing that she could read. Her eyes were easily drawn to the very top of the tapestry, to a large name in glittering letters: Selwyn.
"Selwyn," she murmured, trying to commit the name to memory. Selwyn, Selwy--
It was then that she was jarred from her thoughts by James' voice over by the window. Turning just in time to see his patronus fall below the windowsill, Lily suddenly remembered where they were, what they were doing... and she panicked.
She couldn't cast a corporeal patronus.
"I--" she hesitated as she made it to his side. "I don't know if--fuck--" No, she shook her head in protest to her thoughts, no, it wasn't a question of being able to or not, she had to, or else... She couldn't let that happen, they needed the Order and she was the only one that could call them with James drained like this and shit, okay--
Conjuring into her mind the happiest thought she could muster--and nothing, fuck, no, that wasn't good enough and her wisp of silvery mist quickly dissolved--what could she think of, what was happy enough to call forth a real Patron--oh. Lily's eyes flitted to the man beside her and in a split second the answer dawned on her. Well, it was obvious, wasn't it? All she had to do was think of him and--
"
Expecto Patronum!"
