Stunned, James lay momentarily sprawled on the ground. Blood covered his tongue from where his teeth had cut his tongue. He was sure his left hand was broken, for it throbbed and shook with pain from beneath him where he had landed.
But he could not stay here â“ he must get up.
Wincing to refrain from moaning with pain, James, eyes closed, tried to wrench himself from the dewy blades of the forest earth.
âStop.â
No voice he knew cut so harshly. The man spoke with the authority of a strict watchman, unyielding and self-important.
âWhere-â James began to say.
âDonât speak!â said another voice, venomous; James felt both the sneer and the threat implied in the tone.
James knew he was in no position to fight, especially â“ he realized with sinking dread â“ with no wand in sight. He stayed quite still.
âThis isnât the right one!â shouted someone faraway, angrily. His head was truly spinning now, knocked too hard, confused with the sudden chorus of furious men.
âNo?â asked the slippery-spoken man.
His vision, which had been filled with distorted colors through his broken glasses was suddenly blocked. A blurred face, wrinkly it seemed, appeared in place of hazy greens and darkness.
The old man, spitting into Jamesâ face as if he were a lowly worm, hissed, âWhatâs your name?â
In the instant he decided to tell the truth â“ they could find out easily enough, and from the looks of the group so far, he was not encouraged to lie.
âJames,â he coughed, finding his voice tore from his throat.
Angry yells came from a crowd of dark-cloaked figures that James began to distinguish. A large hand swooped down to take the paper from his grasp. That one ridiculous leaf of parchment was already costing him enormous energy to form simple words.
âWhere did this come from, boy?â
James, slowly licking his lips, took a moment to properly hear the question. For some reason this forest seemed to be slowly creeping into his brain and meddling with his mind.
âWhy⌠why does it matter?â
Laughs echoed through the scene.
âWhy, he says. Who wants to tell him?â
Here came a new voice, high and cold; James felt his thoughts clear around a single stream of consciousness. This was him.
âWho wants to show him?â
Silence followed this mocking question. James saw, though he felt it was harder to see, that the robed men were on their knees.
âI will, my Lord,â said the sharp voice James had first heard.
Someone came striding through the thick green grass, robes catching each leaf and twig in an eerie quiet. From above, the man whispered â“
And James was on fire. He wove and writhed with anguish - his body surely broken in each separate fibre â“ his broken hand was stabbing his arm like daggers â“ his back bent in every direction, wrenching him in every direction â“ he could not tell if he were sane, or whole, or breathing⌠only pain, and screamsâŚ
Downstairs, Helena and Jack had just come from their room, armed with potions and their wands.
âWhatâs this?â Helena said, turning quickly to her husband.
Jack looked past her, noticing that the note was not where he had left it. Nor, he saw, had that cloak on the floor. It had once belonged to him; he knew it inside out.
He had entrusted it to James on his eleventh birthday. James had promised to keep it safe, just as Jack had promised his father, and so on through the generations.
âJames wouldnât leave this lying around. I know he wouldnât,â said Jack to himself, picking up the cloak and running it through his fingers. Helena bent over and took her sonâs wand, confused.
âWhere is he, then?â she asked. Panicking, she shouted, âSirius! SIRIUS!â
In a moment, Sirius Apparated to her side, out of breath.
âWhere is he?â Jack demanded. Sirius looked from Jack to Helena Potter, whom he loved and trusted more dearly than any single member of his own family - then to Jamesâ wand and cloak.
âI donât know.â Helenaâs eyes bore into him. âThe git⌠he had meant⌠Thought he could get Lily back to right if he⌠if he dueled the Death Eaters himself.â
âWHAT?â Helena shrieked. Jack paled.
At that moment, an owl glided upon the windowsill outside the kitchen and pecked the pane.
âWhat isâŚâ
Jack strode to the window, and opened it with a swish of his wand.
The official looking tawny owl stuck out its leg, and Jack tore off the letter he was presented. Closing the window as the bird flew silently, Jack read it quickly with widening eyes. When he finished, he was shaking his head in disbelief; he had to hold on to a chair to stay standing.
Helena rushed to his side, took the letter from him and read the notice:
âDear Mr. Potter,
We have received notice that an unauthorized Portkey was used at your place of residence at quarter-to midnight on the night of the 2nd of April. In conjunction with the International Statute of Secrecy, and Treatise on Improper and Irresponsible Spell Casting, section 34-f, no unregistered Portkey may be used unless given notice by a Ministry official.
Any further use of unauthorized Portkey will result in a disciplinary hearing by the Ministry of Magic.
Thank you,
Malfada Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Officeâ
Helena looked defeated. âThis canât⌠oh, Jack, what has he done?â
âIt means,â explained Jack, slowly and shakily, âthat they have him.â
Sirius knew who âtheyâ were.
âHow?â Helena exclaimed desperately. âHow could anyone create a Portkey in our own home without us knowing? The entire mansion is charmed with Trespassing Triplines! We have no portkeys here!â
Sirius did not know what to say. James was certainly gone, and something certainly felt wrong. It was a moment before he could make sense of it â“ Jack pieced it together just as Sirius managed to.
âWhereâs the parchment⌠oh, Helena, thatâs it!â Jack said suddenly, sitting down and putting his face in his hands.
âBut youâve been carrying it around for days!â she told him, a tear spilling over her cheek. Her hair seemed grayer every second.
âNever so late! Not tonight!â Jack replied sternly. âIâve left it on my desk, in my robes⌠I had a hearing today, anyone could have swapped itâŚâ He swore brutally at himself.
âWe⌠we must go to the Ministry. Figure out a plan, stop the others!â Helena asserted; her voice was higher than usual, and Sirius noticed she was shaking slightly. Jack nodded, and two *pop*s signaled their exit.
Sirius stood, alone in the kitchen. Jamesâ cloak and wand lay on the table, deprived of their owner. He put them safely in a drawer.
The darkness outside, the unnatural stillness only served to bring images of Jamesâ mutilated body through Siriusâ mindâŚ
James, torn apart by Inferi⌠His body found, bloodless and mangled, on the steps of Hogwarts or Hogsmeade or the MinistryâŚ
Maybe he would be possessed, driven so far beyond himself that he ceased to exist but as a carcass to be driven by a Death Eatersâ mindless spellâŚ
This was no good. He abruptly stood up, wishing he could force his mind away. His parents have often said, so to the Mudbloods, so too unto the blood traitors of the landâŚ
The Potters had a reputation, and James was somewhere, paying the price for their refusal to bend.