Harry Potter Fan Fiction

“YOU BROUGHT ME THE WRONG TWO!” He roared, and Peter cowered in terror. “I asked you for Figg and Black. And now, do I have Figg and Black? NO!”

Peter cringed, but Voldemort smiled. “However, you did bring me Potter and Evans. I have awaited their capture for the longest time, and they have continued to elude me. No longer. I have desired this pair even more so than that of Figg and Black. I have been waiting for this for a long, long time...”

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, deflating.

“However, this does not change the fact that you disobeyed my orders. CRUCIO!”Oh get off it, Potter! I didn’t hurt you too badly, now did I?”
James pouted to himself and rubbed his hand over his sore cheek once more. “Yes.”
Lily gave an irritable sigh. “You’re an idiot.”
“Why, thank you!”
“And a prat, you know that?”
“Yes, Evans, I’m well aware of your sentiments for me. I’ve only heard them every bloody thirty seconds!”
Lily smirked at him. “As long as you know that I hate you, I’ll be happy.”
James inwardly winced, and took several deep calming breaths.
“After all, Potter, you’re an egoistical, annoying, stupid moron…”
James’ eyes flashed with anger. “Evans, where do you come off—”
“Who got us into this mess.”
James gaped. “What the bloody hell? Are you daft, woman?”
Lily sniffed indignantly. “Well it had to have been you. Your blundering idiocies must have gotten us captured.”
“Wha—Arrgh! Women!”

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“Peter!” The short, plump man glanced wearily in the direction of the shout. The familiar walls of the Order’s meeting place were strangely foreboding tonight, and did not bring him the comfort, the luxury, of safety. For no one was ever safe from the Dark Lord.
“You look awful, Peter,” There was Arabella, always worried and doting after everyone’s health. “You must have heard the news of James and Lily’s capture.”
“Hm? Oh, yes, I heard.”
“You poor boy,” Arabella tutted, looking compassionate. “I know that James was—is, a good friend of yours.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
She led him through the lit hallways to the makeshift bunks, and throughout the way, sickeningly sweet concerns were tossed in his direction. The well wishes and sympathetic glances were nearly more than he could take.
He wondered, absently, what they would say, what they would think, if they knew the truth. In all honesty, however, he was not eager to find out.
A small part, a very small part, whispered that this was wrong, that this was the utmost betrayal. It was quickly silenced however, by the Dark Lord’s promises of power, admiration, and respect. They’ll all get what they deserve, every last one of them! He thought with conviction. This was war, and there was no use in thinking about the well being of others. There was no time for friends or loyalties. There was only one thing that mattered in this whole damned war, and that was himself.

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“You’re a big headed prat.”
“You’re a know it all.”
“You still run your hands through your hair to make you look cool!”
“You snore!”
“You’re a womanizer!”
“You’re a feminist!”
“You pig!”
“You troll!”
“You MAN!”
“You WOMAN!”
“You’re infuriating!”
“Yes, well, so are you!”
“Shut up!” The two cried at once, and fell back into a sulky silence, glaring at the walls.

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“Moo~oony…” Sirius wheedled. “Come on, Moony.”
Remus didn’t even glance up. “Shut up, Sirius. We have to follow procedure. You know that we can’t report anything until the person has been missing for twelve hours.”
Sirius growled in frustration, and exploded, “Look, just because YOU don’t care, it doesn’t mean that I’m going to sit back here and do nothing!” Sirius immediately regretted his words as soon as they left, and wished he could snatch them from the air and stuff them back inside his mouth.
Remus pulled back his hand as if burned and took a step back into the shadows. His eyes were covered by the shadows made by his bangs, and he stared at the ground.
“Moony, look, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, I know. I’m a werewolf,” A bitter smile touched the corners of his lips briefly. “And I can’t…care.”
“Moony—!”
“No, Sirius, I know.” Remus’ quiet voice was soft and slightly weary. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
Sirius bit his lip as he stared at the other’s slumped shoulders. He cursed himself and his god-forsaken mouth, and wished that he could rip out his wretched tongue.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Remus glanced up at him, a small smile on his features. “Well then? Shall we go?”
Sirius stopped, bewildered, “What about procedure?”
“Damn procedure.”
Sirius’ mouth dropped open as he watched Remus’ retreating back, and quickly hurried to join him.
Lily checked her watch. It had been six bloody hours stuck with Potter and there was no end that she could see. It had been a miserable, depressing, and very, very long six hours. So, the crimson haired witch took a deep breath and gathered her Gryffindor pride as she addressed the person across the cell.
“Potter.”
“What do you want, Evans?” Came the response, her name nearly spat out as if it were a curse word.
“Look Potter, you’re a complete and utter arse and I despise you.” The scarlet haired witch gave a long-suffering sigh and then continued, ignoring the sputter of indignation.
“Pull all your punches, don’t you?”
“But, due to these rather…desperate circumstances, we have to call a truce.”
“A truce?”
“Yes, a truce, Potter, does your feeble brain comprehend that word?”
James scowled at her form, half-hidden in the shadows of the cell. “Fine, Evans, fine. But this is just because we need to work together. But after this, it all returns to normal, got it? You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“Of course,” Lily sniffed disdainfully, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Good.” James stuck his hand out and Lily reluctantly reached out to shake it. However when their hands met, they felt a very strong shock and pulled their hands hastily away. Lily stumbled and fell onto the cold concrete floor.
“What did you do that for, Potter?” Lily groused from her position on the floor, nursing her hand as she glared up at him. “Don’t you understand that we have a truce? No more childish pranks!”
“Me?!” James exclaimed. “I didn’t do anything! You gave me a shock with that hand of yours!”
“I did no such thing!”
They glared at each for a few moments before James sighed and offered an explanation. “Well, Evans I honestly did nothing. And apparently neither did you. It must have been our magic colliding.”
Lily was silent for a few seconds and nodded reluctantly. “I suppose that could be it.” She hefted herself up so that she was standing again, and admitted, “It didn’t even really hurt anyway. It was just sort of a shock.” Almost… rather pleasant.
“All right, then lets try this again, shall we?” He offered his and gave her a firm and very brief handshake, which left their hands with nothing but a warm tingle.

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“Moony! Moony, where are you going?” Sirius raced to catch up to Remus’ quickly retreating form.
Remus snorted, not bothering to grace him with a glance. “Where do you think? Dumbledore, of course.”
Sirius was saved from replying by Arabella Figg’s voice cutting across the distance between them. “Sirius! Remus!” She was quickly shuffling towards them, eyes wide and worried.
Remus turned to look at her. “What is it, Arabella?” He asked kindly, as he stopped for the usually unflappable witch. A hint of panic and anxiety was in her tone that made him anxious.
She rung her hands as she glanced at them hesitantly. “It’s—it’s Peter, he’s been in a daze since he came in…”
Sirius felt a jolt of chagrin course through him. Truth be told, he had not even noticed that he had been gone. Torn between finding Dumbledore or going to Peter’s aid, he finally gave a sigh and followed Arabella and Remus to where his fellow Marauder was.

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“Potter!” Lily cried with excitement coursing through her veins as she leapt up. “There’s a window!”
“Really.” James was completely unmoved by her sentiments and gazed at her disinterestedly from his position on the floor.
“Potter! It’s a WINDOW!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Was I supposed to be surprised? Of course there’s a window, Evans, are you daft? Where do you think that we were getting the moonlight from, anyway?”
“Oh, shut it Potter. Do you reckon that we can get out?”
“James eyed the pitiful structure with a dubious eye. “No, unless you can manage to squeeze through those bars.”
“Well, do you think that we could break them?”
“Perhaps…” James mused, a glint in his hazel eyes as he stared at the distant window with an assessing gaze. “We’d have to get up there though.”
“Well, that’s easy enough. I can get on your shoulders.”
James glanced at her petite form dubiously. “Are you sure, Evans? I rather like my shoulders.”
Lily flushed furiously. “Shut up Potter, I don’t weigh so much, and you know it, you git.”
James chuckled and nodded, much to the surprise of his companion. “I know, Evans, I’m sorry. It was out of reflex.”
His smile was soft and sincere, and Lily felt herself nodding in spite of herself as a faint fluttering of hope stirred within her. The tousled haired man crouched down. “Let’s try this, shall we?”
Whump!
“Oof!” Hard breathing for a few moments before a pained voice finally managed to articulate his opinion with a weary sigh. “I don’t think that this is working, Evans.”
Lily grunted in agreement as she rolled off her position from being sprawled on the floor. Her long, luxurious crimson locks were matted and tangled with dirt and sweat and she pushed it back with an annoyed grumble. “One more time.”
James sighed but stood up once more. With their added height, they were able to access the window, but with a certain degree of difficulty. He crouched down and Lily took her place on his shoulders as he held her legs tightly. James suppressed a groan as her feet dug into his already sore and aching shoulder blades once more and lifted her higher still.
Lily stretched until she felt as if her arms were going to pop out of her sockets. Her slim fingers brushed the edge of the bars that covered the windows teasingly and she nearly growled in frustration. She was so close…She managed to grasp the bars for the first time with a strong grip and she was about to give a trill of triumph but instead gave a shout of shock and pain.
“Evans? What’s—?”
The searing pain was unavoidable as it laced up and down every nerve in her body. She wind milled backwards and felt herself toppling dangerously into empty space. She closed her emerald eyes, ready for the impact but instead found herself cushioned from the floor by a slim, lanky body.
“Potter?”
James spat out the hair that had managed to work itself into his mouth. “What?” He groaned.
Her voice was soft, wondering. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Evans. But if you don’t mind…”
“Oh!”
She quickly crawled off of him and sat beside him on her heels as he slowly, painfully, got up. She bit her lip, feeling guilty as she watched him try to hide a grimace of pain. “I’m sorry, Potter.”
James waved her off. “Don’t mention it, Evans. I simply thought that your head didn’t need any more knocks on it.”
Lily bit her lip again as she assessed his slow movements in sitting up. “Perhaps we should stop for now,” She offered hesitantly.
James nodded, blinking so that the blackness faded from his vision. Once he was certain that he could focus, he glanced at her as he propped himself up against the wall. Curious, he questioned, “What happened when you touched the bars?”
Lily shivered as she tugged her robe closer around herself. “Oh…it felt as if—it felt like the Cruciatus, only… lessened somehow…”
James closed his eyes as despair overwhelmed his fatigued form, and he felt the faint hope flying out of his reach. He heard Lily shuffle her way towards him, as she too leaned against the wall for support. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
Her eyes were wide and blank as she looked at something that he could not see, deep inside herself. The aftershocks of the Cruciatus left her shaking like a leaf on a cold autumn’s day. They sat in silence for a moment, before she whispered, “Do you know what it’s like?”
He did not have to ask for an elaboration. Quietly, he answered, “Yes.”
Lily shuddered, her eyes slowly reverting back to their normal selves, but still slightly haunted. “How?”
“The summer before seventh year—Deatheaters attack. They had great fun using it on all of my family.” His eyes darkened with pain at the memory and his voice grew distant, emotionless. “They used it over and over again, and none of us could fight back, because nothing in Defense Against the Dark Arts had ever taught us to deal with that. My mum and dad—they fought until the very end, protecting us…but it wasn’t enough. Mum, Dad, Sarah. They died. I lived.”
Lily was silent for a few moments as she waited for him to gain his composure as he left his field of memories. They touched something within her, knowing that she was not the only one who had suffered. It made her feel a strange bond that only war could bring.
“I’m sorry, Potter.”
James nodded his head in acknowledgement.
Lily continued, feeling the words of her past surge within her like a turbulent ocean. She took a deep, calming breath. “My parents died too—they were tortured to death because they were muggles in my sixth year. I was at school.”
Her last few words were said with a whisper of regret and sadness. James was similarly quiet before he laid his hand on her shoulder as an act of compassion. “I’m sorry Evans. I really am.”
“Lily.”
“What?”
“You—you can call me Lily. If we’re going to be stuck here in this miserable cell then we might as well call each other by our first names.”
“Yes, indeed.”
They chatted for the longest time of inconsequential things such as favorite ice cream flavor or broomstick, of likes and dislikes, of pets and memories of happier times. They explored the essence of the other’s very soul, and found, to their surprise, the wonderful people that lingered underneath the layers of rudeness.
Lily felt her eyes drooping once more and her head lolled, falling onto James’ shoulder. She gave a soft, sleepy sigh and smiled as she inhaled the scent that was solely and purely James. With contented thoughts, she drifted off into the land of Nod and was soon snoring lightly.
James sighed as well and his eyes drooped close. No sooner had he done so did the door of the cell creak open. A cold, malicious voice that haunted his dreams dredged him out of his stupor as hard, blood red eyes twinkled in malevolent delight.
“Well, well, well…Now what do we have here?”
Well, well, well…now what do we have here?”
James’ hazel eyes snapped open and darted towards the door of the cell. The flickering light from the corridor caused the figure to cast long, looming shadows, shadows that hid all his facial features. All features except for the glittering crimson eyes that were ingrained into James’ memory. They were filled with something akin to pleasure as they gazed at the two’s huddled forms, and James shivered in the suddenly frigid air.
He swept into the room and James shook himself out of his stupor as he slowly, slowly reached for the wand that wasn’t there. His own eyes were calculating as he estimated the odds of surviving without putting Lily in harm’s way. His gaze automatically darted to the figure lying beside him.
Voldemort gaze a light chuckle of pleasure as he saw where the gaze was cast. “And to think, that I was half expecting you two to kill each other…no, this is much more…enjoyable.” Softly, he murmured, “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
James’ hands clenched in anger as fury blurred his vision for a moment before he regained control.
Voldemort did not miss the brief flash of emotion. He continued to stroll around the cell, teasing James’ with the nearness of his dearly wanted revenge. “I wonder what I shall do with her when her usefulness is over…Perhaps she can provide amusement.”
“Don’t you dare touch her.” His voice was calm, deadly.
Voldemort raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, taking perverse delight from getting a rise out of the Auror. “Really…and exactly what would you do to stop me?”
Hazel eyes darted again to the innocently sleeping redhead who murmured softly in her sleep and cuddled closer to his warmth. ‘Anything. Everything.’ He thought. As he wondered, vaguely, why she hadn’t woken up, Voldemort answered his unspoken question.
“She will not wake until I bid her to.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, Potter, that cannot be easily remedied. She will awake when she wills herself to wake from her dream world, or when I bid her to. Otherwise, her sleep shall be uninterrupted…forever.”
James felt a jolt of fear rush through him. She would awake only when she wished to return to reality instead of staying in her dream world… And what crazy person would choose hell over heaven?
He gently eased her to the floor and stood, knowing quite well that he had a snowball’s chance in hell of doing any injury to Voldemort if he attacked now. His brashness from his youth had lessened somewhat, during the war, because he had seen what brashness did to people. Or rather, he had seen the remains of the people who were foolish with their timing and decisions.
“What do you want?” He questioned quietly.
“What do I want?” Voldemort’s lips drew back into a thin line faintly resembling a smile. “It’s not what I want, Potter, it’s what you want. All I want is for you to see the nobleness of my cause—the extermination of all mudbloods. All I want is for you to join my ranks and become my loyal disciple. But it does not matter what I want. I can give you what you want the most.”
He slithered closer, midnight robes swirling around him majestically. James suddenly heard the voice that haunted his dreams coming from every corner of the cell enticing him with it’s promises.
“I can offer you so much more than what Dumbledore can…One of yours has already joined my ranks…I can offer you what I offered him…

The Order of the Phoenix.net

24 Hours - Part 2