Sealing Their Fate
Peter had no idea why he was doing this. He could have refused. He didn’t get that much flack for avoiding the fight when Dorcas had died. Well, Moody and his friends hadn’t exactly been pleased with him, but what did that matter? He knew what was important to him and that was his life. He had seen the destruction, seen the injuries the Order and the bystanders had sustained, particularly the injuries James had sustained. He didn’t want that for himself. He knew that much “ he did not want to constantly be recovering from some horrific injury. He didn’t want to die in the line of a battle he didn’t want to fight.
If he knew that, then why was he patrolling Knockturn Alley, at night, for the Order of the Phoenix?
Because he was weak and foolish, that was why. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he didn’t have the guts to admit he wanted out. He didn’t have the guts to go to Moody and Dumbledore and tell them that he had had enough. He didn’t have the guts to show his friends he didn’t believe what they did. He would have to find those guts soon. He was already in way over his head and if he didn’t stop it soon, he would be dead before he reached age twenty. That wasn’t something he was bargaining on. He knew it was something his mother wasn’t planning on either. He hated to think of what this was doing to her. Ever since his father had died, his mother had been terrified of something happening to Peter as well.
He was doing nothing except increasing her worry.
Peter tightened his grip on his wand as three particularly shady looking men made their way past him, shooting him hard looks. When they were out of earshot, he had to laugh at himself. Particularly shady looking people? Knockturn Alley only contained shady people. How was he supposed to know if any of them were Death Eaters? They would know he was part of the Order, though. They had the advantage. If they caught him off guard, he was as good as dead. Merlin, he needed a drink.
Unfortunately Peter wasn’t close to the entrance to Diagon Alley at all. He would have to settle for getting something here. With his luck, it would be poisoned. He’d be writhing on the ground before he knew it.
He turned into a dank pub labeled the Dueling Dragon. The place wasn’t crowded at all. There were only two cloaked figures sitting in the farthest corner of the pub and the barkeeper, who was running a rag across the bar. The man looked up with disinterested eyes when Peter entered and grunted in acknowledgement when he sat on one of the stools. Peter took that as the cue to state his order. “Firewhiskey,” he said, keeping his voice free of any disgust he felt. Funny, Firewhiskey was always Sirius’s drink of choice. Peter had a feeling ordering a butterbeer in a place like this would get him hexed or give him very bad indigestion.
Peter accepted the glass with a grunt of thanks, passing the gold across the counter. The barkeeper greedily scooped it up and stuffed it away. Peter took a sip, hiding his wince at the fiery taste it left in his throat. That would explain the name. It wasn’t long before one of the cloaked figures in the corner migrated to the bar, sitting down on the stool directly beside Peter. “Don’t look too happy, do you?” the man asked, his voice a sort of hiss, yet it strangely didn’t bother Peter.
“No, not really,” Peter replied shortly, taking another gulp of his drink and again, hiding his wince.
“Oh, it can’t be too bad,” the man went on, his voice oddly cheerful now, as if he had just learned something very helpful. Peter wasn’t very troubled to find out what it was. This man didn’t concern him at all. The man nudged him in the shoulder, as if urging him to go on. “Come on, mate, tell me what your troubles are.”
Peter shot the man a glare. “I’m supposed to tell someone I don’t know what my problems are?”
The man, however, appeared unabashed by Peter’s abruptness. “Who better? An unbiased ear, some might say. I don’t know you, the people you consort with, I can’t possibly influence anything you say.”
Peter mulled this over. The man was right. Peter could vent all he wanted and this man wouldn’t be biased towards anything because Peter didn’t know him. “Ever feel underappreciated?” he asked the man before taking another swig of his drink. The glass was nearly drained and the man hailed the barkeep, ordering two more and paying for both.
“Ah, yes, well we all have at one point or another,” the man agreed, nodding his head from side to side. “What’s so bad about it? It usually blows over.”
What was so bad about it? He was risking his bloody neck for people who probably didn’t give a damn that he was. “When it involves fighting all the time and not being appreciated for it, it starts to get a bit irritating.”
Peter could see a strange glint in the man’s eyes, but he ignored it.
“Ah, well, that would get upsetting, I imagine.” The man nudged the glass of Firewhiskey closer to Peter, encouraging him to drink it. He grinned when Peter accepted it, nearly downing the liquid. “Do something about it then!”
“Like what?” Peter had nearly drained his second glass of the alcoholic beverage and he was feeling slightly fuzzy headed, but he liked the feeling. He wanted to hear what this stranger had to say.
“Something drastic, something no one would be expecting. Whatever those ungrateful people wanted you to do, do the opposite. You should do something that’ll make them realise they were bloody fools for not appreciating you enough when you were on their side. What’s the use of being a part of something if no one cares about what you do, right?”
Peter drained the last of his drink and almost ordered a third before deciding he may as well get home. His shift was just about over. It was time to turn the patrol over to Remus, if the bloke was up to it. Merlin knew his friend was probably feeling too ill to do anything. Peter didn’t care though. He was done with his shift; it was time for Remus to do his. “Good to meet you,” he said to the man. “Thanks for the drink, and the advice.”
The man nodded. “No problem, mate. Maybe I’ll see you around here again.” The man leaned forward on the bar and waited for Peter to disappear completely through the door. Once he was gone, the man got up and returned to his companion at the back of the bar.
“Was that one of them, Dolohov?” the second man asked. His voice was icy and very reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy.
“You’ve seen him before, haven’t you? Shouldn’t you know if it was him?” Dolohov spat at Malfoy.
“I haven’t seen the kid since he was a chubby eleven year old boy. Besides, he may recognise my voice; why else would I send you up to talk to him?”
“No one sends me to do anything. Especially you, Lucius. I spoke to the vermin because the Dark Lord requested it. He wants one of them. It’s best to go after the weakest.”
“Out of all the resistance, he’s the most spineless,” Lucius agreed. “Snape always said he was powerless in school. I can’t imagine how he managed to survive this long fighting with the resistance.”
“Merlin knows. The point is that we’ve found one of the resistance; one who isn’t happy. That can only benefit the Dark Lord.”
“Come on, Moony, wake up.”
Sirius sat on the cold, dirty ground in the forest he took Remus to when the full moon fell. Sirius had wanted to say with him for the night, had nearly begged Mad Eye to reprieve him from his Order duties that night, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have an excuse, not one he could divulge, anyway. He couldn’t exactly tell Moody that he wanted to stay home because he was really an Animagus and could help control his friend during his transformations. So Remus was left to fend for himself. James had originally planned on going, but Lily was having one of her cravings and he was scrambling to find the right kind of cheese. Peter couldn’t go by himself as what chance did a rat have against a werewolf?
Sirius lightly tapped his friend’s bloody cheek. “Moony!” He said it louder this time, hoping that would do something to wake him. He had some success. Remus mumbled a jumble of incoherent nonsense, though he did not open his eyes. Sirius smirked to himself; at least his friend was in the realm of the conscious now. “Oi, make some sense will you!”
“Shut up, Padfoot,” Remus said, attempting to sound angry, but he just succeeded in sounding tired.
“Success.” If Remus was well enough to attempt to snap at him, that could only be a good thing. “Let’s get home, alright?”
Remus nodded slowly. He could only thank Merlin that there was such a thing as Apparition. Sirius carefully gripped Remus’s forearm and it wasn’t long before they were in the living room of their flat. Sirius wasted no time in retrieving his two-way mirror from the kitchen. James wasn’t due at the hospital for another two hours; he had time to stop by and see what he could do.
When James knocked on the front door, with a considerably larger Lily in tow, Remus was resting on the couch, his eyes shut as he tried to block out the awful pain he was experiencing. Lily’s continuously growing motherly instincts overtook and she hurried over as fast as she could, asking if there was anything she could do. “No thanks, Lily,” Remus said, his eyes fluttering open and darting to the woman. She needed to worry about herself, not him.
“I just came to see how you were feeling,” she said, offering him a warm smile. “I’ve got work soon.” She gently squeezed Remus’s hand before bidding the men farewell as she left for the Daily Prophet office.
“Okay, Moony, let’s see the damage this time.” James grinned playfully as Remus shot him a glare. James looked at him thoughtfully. “You know, at this rate you’ll be lucky to see twenty.”
“Are you anticipating me dying in eight days?”
“Well, I hope you’ll at least live until my birthday. I expect a present.” James flashed another cheeky grin towards the man as he pressed his wand against a gash on Remus’s left forearm. The skin soon began to mend itself, leaving just the stains of blood as reminders of what had been there. James lightly pressed his fingers on Remus’s ribcage to inspect the damage there. Upon seeing his friend wince badly, he knew he had some work for him there. “Does your furry little problem enjoy doing a number on you month after month?”
“Of course, I just sit here and wonder how to mutilate myself, don’t I, Padfoot?”
“I have to tell him to stop it,” Sirius laughed, playing along. This was James’s method to keep Remus’s mind off the pain “ get him to joke around. “Sorry I couldn’t be there.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Remus said dismissively. “We all know Moody would’ve had your arse if you weren’t.”
James laughed. “I can see it now “ Moody has it mounted about his fireplace and he calmly sips tea, sitting below it.”
Both Remus and Sirius sent James startled looks. “What? I was just kidding…”
James had just finished mending Remus’s sprained elbow when there was furious knocking at the front door. Sirius’s guard instantly went up as he carefully walked towards the door, sliding his wand out of his pocket. “Who is it?” he barked.
“Gideon!” shouted one voice.
“Fabian!” shouted another. “Is James there?”
James stood up uncertainly upon hearing his name. “What do you want?” he asked loudly.
“Something’s happened in Diagon Alley!”
James’s blood went cold. Lily was in Diagon Alley. She had left a while ago; she obviously would have been there by now. Oh, Merlin, what had happened? He hoped it wasn’t too close to the newspaper, but what else could be the explanation? It was must have been if Gideon and Fabian were asking for him specifically. “What’s happened?”
Sirius pulled back the locks on the door and let the Prewitts in. They were both frantic, their eyes wide, their faces pale beneath their red hair. “What’s going on?” James snapped. His wife was in Diagon Alley, his pregnant wife.
The look in Fabian’s eyes sent the worst jolt of panic through James. “They’re fighting at the Daily Prophet office.” Fabian, one of the strongest members of the Order, even winced when he saw the expression of horror slide onto James’s face. “I’m sorry, James. But we’ve got to get there now!”
James wasted no time. He had Apparated the moment the words were out of Fabian’s mouth. This wasn’t happening. Voldemort had it out for him and Lily, and now their child was at risk. Merlin, would this world let him have a shred of happiness to keep? His parents were barely cold in the ground, he wasn’t about to lose his wife and child so closely after. Gideon and Fabian disappeared seconds later.
Only Sirius and Remus remained. It was obvious that Remus wasn’t going to be able to fight, not so shortly after a full moon with more than half his injuries still intact. Sirius, on the other hand, had his best friend’s wife and his godchild to fight for. “You’ll be alright?” he asked his friend.
Remus said nothing except, “Go.”
Sirius didn’t hesitate to turn on the spot and disappear with a violent crack! Why was it always Diagon Alley? Why did Voldemort want Lily and James so badly? They were everything he despised. Lily was a Muggle-born “ a Mudblood to Voldemort. James was a blood traitor! What was it about them that interested Voldemort so much? Whatever the reason, there was no chance in hell that they would ever join such a vile creature. After all the destruction he had caused, after all the lives he had taken away and destroyed, there was no way Lily and James would ever consider joining him.
This was strange…
Diagon Alley was quiet. Much too quiet. It was as if every soul had disappeared in the seconds it had taken him to Apparate. But no, Gideon and Fabian had told them that there were Death Eaters at the Daily Prophet! James! James must have already been there. Damn it! Sirius broke into a sprint. He knew where the newspaper’s office was, having visited Lily there dozens of times and the occasions when he and Remus would drop in on Remus’s father while he was at work.
Oh, Merlin, this wasn’t right! The office was functioning so bloody normally. It was as if none of the writers were aware of anything wrong. Was there anything wrong? James was standing outside of the building, confusion etched onto every inch of his face. “What’s going on, Prongs?” Sirius asked quietly as he stepped beside his best friend. “Where are Gideon and Fabian?”
“I don’t know. They weren’t here when I Apparated.” James stepped closer to the building, looking as though he was desperately trying to figure this puzzle out. “Something’s not right. The way those two looked at me… you had to believe them, right?”
“But there’s nothing wrong here. Look, there’s Lily now.” Sirius nodded as the redhead came into view. She had her quill in hand and was scribbling something down on a sheath of parchment. The woman glanced up towards the window and smiled as she spotted her husband, though the puzzlement was there. She came out of the building. “James, what are you doing here?”
“Has everything been okay at work?” James asked her at once. He doubted if there was a commotion it would have blown over already, especially with no remnants left behind, but he had to check.
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Everything’s been fine. James, what’s going on?”
“Gideon and Fabian… they came to Sirius’s flat. They said there were Death Eaters here at the Prophet. But… but they’re not here.”
“Gideon and Fabian? They wouldn’t lie about something like that.” Lily’s face mirrored the confused ones of her husband’s and Sirius’s.
“We’ve been tricked, Prongs.” Sirius’s voice was grim. That was the only explanation. They had been tricked and something was going to happen if they didn’t get out of here. “Let’s go. All three of us. Lily, you’re done with work for the day.”
Lily didn’t disagree. If they had been fooled, she was not lingering when the eruption finally happened. Not with a child in her belly.
The only problem was they didn’t get that chance to escape. Two cloaked and masked figures had appeared behind James and Lily, snatching them before either one of them could shout for help.
“Prongs!” Sirius shouted. “Lily! No. DAMN IT! No!” Right before his eyes. They had disappeared right before his eyes! No, no, no! He had to get to Dumbledore. He had to alert the Order. They had been tricked and if James and Lily died because of it… Sirius felt the bile rise in his throat. He had to get a message to Dumbledore. His Patronus. Merlin it would be difficult to summon a happy memory when he felt as if the world had just ended before his eyes.
It was a relief when the dog appeared and Sirius was able to relay the message. “James and Lily have been snatched. I don’t know where they’ve been taken. We’ve all been tricked!”
James had no idea where he was. It was a dark, windowless room. The room was freezing and held the foreboding sense that this might be the last room he would ever be in. The only consolation was that Lily was beside him. She was still there; they hadn’t done anything to her. They hadn’t done anything to her yet. At the rate this day was going, if they made it through this James would go to every Muggle church he could find and praise the powers at be. He really hoped he would live to do that.
“It is very unfortunate that we keep meeting like this.”
No matter how many times he heard it, James would never cease to be terrified when Lord Voldemort spoke. He instinctively tightened his grip on his wand and reached out for Lily. When was this ever going to end?
“You’re looking well, Potter. The injuries did not last, I see.”
James resisted the urge to spit at the monster. If it hadn’t been for him and his Death Eaters, James never would have been so badly injured. If it hadn’t been for them, Dorcas Meadows wouldn’t have been killed. “How did you find us? What did you do?”
Voldemort laughed cruelly. “The wonders of the Polyjuice Potion. I’m sure your friends will be wondering where Gideon and Fabian Prewitt are.”
James heard Lily gasp beside him. If Voldemort’s Death Eaters got to them and used a Polyjuice Potion, that could only mean one thing. No… oh, sweet Merlin, no!
“I must say, they fought bravely, some might say they died like heroes. It took five of my Death Eaters to finally kill them. They were no match. As your numbers grow smaller, mine grow larger.”
James couldn’t believe it. Gideon and Fabian were dead. That couldn’t be right! They were too strong, too good of fighters to have died. They were some of the best the Order had and they were gone. Voldemort had to be lying. They couldn’t be dead. They were so young! They had a sister; they had nephews. James felt his stomach churn painfully as he thought of the Prewitts’ family. Oh, he didn’t want to be the one who had to tell them they were dead.
“I am not lying, Potter,” Voldemort hissed. James felt as though someone had slapped him in the face. How had Voldemort known that was what he was thinking? Voldemort seemed to find great pleasure in this and he demonstrated it in his cruel laugh. “I’ve given you the chance to come to reason twice now. I am not feeling nearly as generous this time and I will not give you an option. You have no choice.”
No, this wasn’t happening. Why didn’t Voldemort just give up? Because it wasn’t in his nature, that was why. He wouldn’t stop until he had gotten what he wanted. That was why the world was falling to pieces; that was why the Order of the Phoenix even existed. It was all because of this monster standing before James and his wife. Wasn’t there a shred of mercy in him? Wasn’t there a part of him that could see Lily was carrying a baby and would be useless to him? No, there wasn’t because Lord Voldemort didn’t stop for anyone. He had no interest in anything except his own needs.
Why were they part of that category?
“How surprising,” James muttered to himself before hearing Lily groan beside him. His eyes darted nervously to her, thinking she may have been in pain. Then he realised she was probably groaning because of his comment. He had to stop saying them if he wanted them to get out of here alive. He wished he knew where they were; he could have tried to send a message to one of them. But how could that help? He was in a dark room with no windows; he had no way of knowing. Merlin knew there were hundreds of rooms like this.
Who knew if they were even still in England?
How was he going to contact them? He couldn’t use a Patronus, it was too obvious. Voldemort would have to be brainless or blind to miss that. What could he possibly use? His mirror! The two-way mirror! Sirius always carried his with him and Sirius had been the last one to see them before they were snatched. Now the only problem was - how was he going to get it out without Voldemort realising what he was doing? Which pocket was it in? The one closest to Lily, but how was he going to tell her to get it out? He gently nudged Lily, getting her attention. It wouldn’t look so suspicious to Voldemort if James touched his wife. “Have you ever looked in the mirror lately?” James spat, hoping Lily would pick up on the key word.
“A mirror, Potter?” Voldemort sounded amused.
“Then you could see just what a horrible, wretched thing you are.” He was signing his own death warrant, he knew it, but he had to get Lily to take the mirror out. He chanced a sideways glance at Lily and saw she was looking curiously at him. At least she realised he wasn’t just trying to egg Voldemort on. She knew he was up to something. James went on. “A mirror would show you all of that, not that you care, I’m sure.”
James felt Lily stir beside him; very subtly tap the pocket of his robes that the mirror was resting in. Good, she had figured it out. He shifted where he was standing, concealing any part of Lily that would show what she was doing. To anyone, this would merely look as though he was protecting his wife. He looked around the room; trying to figure out where they were, maybe find a tiny, practically miniscule hint. It wasn’t helpful at all. James felt the weight slide out of his pocket.
“How did you find out where they lived?” Lily asked curiously, the rage seething just beneath the surface.
“Who is that?” Merlin, they really loathed the way Voldemort seemed so perfectly content with where he was.
“Remus Lupin and Sirius Black!”
James prayed this plan would work. If it did, Sirius’s mirror would activate; he would be able to hear them, but he wouldn’t be able to see anything. James was standing in the way of the mirror. He didn’t have any other option. Even if he wasn’t standing in the way, nothing would help locate them.
“It wasn’t difficult. I’ve had spies watching them for days to find out where they went.” Voldemort sounded proud, bloody proud. Merlin, they had to warn Remus and Sirius that it was as good a time as any to move out. If Death Eaters knew where they lived, they weren’t safe living there anymore.
What were they going to do? They had to let the others know where they were, but how were they going to do that? Maybe if they got Voldemort to reveal some information about where they were. “What is this place?” James snarled, his eyes still darting about the place in hopes of finding something revealing. “Are we even still in England?”
“I had no need to take you out of England; no one will find this place.”
So they were still in England, at least they knew something. But where, in Merlin’s name, were they in England? “So we’re in a big, wet, dark room without windows in England?” He just had to describe the place; maybe one of the Order was aware of a place like this? Hopefully Sirius had gone to Dumbledore. Dumbledore seemed to always know things others didn’t. “Good job, but just because you have us here doesn’t mean we’re going to do anything to help you. You think after refusing you twice already we’ll change our minds?”
“That is where you’re wrong, Potter.” The amusement had left Voldemort’s voice. Now he was a cold and cruel as ever. He was on his last nerve. They had gotten away from him twice already, he wasn’t going to allow a third. “You will. Your talents can only benefit me and are being wasted with your miscreant resistance fighters. If you do not do as I say, I can think of ways to change your mind.”
Voldemort’s eyes drifted towards the visible bulge on Lily’s and James’s stomach practically dropped out of his body. No, not his child. His pride was only so much. He couldn’t let his child get killed because of it. If Voldemort killed the baby, he would inevitably have to kill Lily in the process. James couldn’t let that happen. His parents had just died… not Lily and the baby, as well.
“I have you thinking, don’t I?” Voldemort advanced upon the two. “Do you want to kill an innocent life because you were too stubborn to listen to reason?”
Had this been under any other circumstances, James may have scoffed at the irony of what Voldemort was saying. Wasn’t he doing the same thing? He was killing innocent people because they refused to listen to what he believed was reason. But if he scoffed now he would lose the two people who meant the most to him, one before he or she ever even got there. “You no longer have a choice, Potter. You will join me or your child will die before you ever get to meet it.”
James felt a bead of sweat sliding down his face and his stomach was churning terribly. He wanted to say that he would never join the Death Eaters. He wanted to. But, with a glance at Lily, who was pale and shaking, he didn’t know what to do. “I…” Would he want his child to think of him as a coward? His child would live and forever think of his father as someone who couldn’t stand up for what he believed in. What kind of influence would that be for the baby? A terrible one. “No.”
Voldemort’s thin lips narrowed in a dangerous line. “No?”
“No.”
“Then you will die.”
As Voldemort raised his wand, James did the same. He stepped sideways in front of Lily, knowing Voldemort would go for her the first chance he got. James was not allowing this. As Voldemort opened his mouth, there was a blast and the single door leading into the room was blasted open.
James didn’t have to wait to see who it was to know that he and Lily were saved.