Chapter Thirteen: Motives
James eyed the man in the witness box warily. The other wizard would have been tall, but he was stooped over, his shoulders rounded. His gray eyes were narrow and shrewd and his face was lined with wrinkles. His salt-and-pepper hair fell down nearly to his chin, and there was just something about his entire countenance that gave the impression of experience. This was a man who had seen a lot in life.
But he was also quite obviously upset about something. His eyes kept wandering around the courtroom, and it was clear that he could not meet anyone’s gaze for more than a few seconds.
Lestrange smiled enigmatically at his witness as he walked forward. There was a gleam of triumph in his eyes that James did not like, and it set him instantly on edge.
He looked over at Lily, but she was not looking at him. Her eyes were focused intently on the witness, a frown appearing momentarily on her face. It was as though she only vaguely recognized him, and was trying to determine where she had seen the wizard before.
“Please state your name for the record,” Lestrange said, and James snapped his attention back to the witness.
“Robert Ringleton,” the wizard replied.
“And your occupation?”
“I’m the barkeep at The Hungry Hippogriff,” Ringleton replied. “As I am sure many of you know,” he added with a wry smile, nodding his head towards the audience that filled the seats on the edges of the room.
His comment was met with a few chuckles from around the room.
James eyed the witness with renewed interest. Although he had never been inside the Hungry Hippogriff itself, he knew the reputation. Everyone did. The tavern was known both for its popularity and its seedy character. While most of its patrons were common criminals, it entertained the pureblood elites as well. Particularly those who needed to find someone else to do their dirty work for them.
“Thank you,” Lestrange said. “And can you please tell the Wizengamot, in your own words, what happened on the evening of September 15th?”
“I was working at the tavern,” Ringleton said, lifting his chin slightly and meeting Lestrange’s gaze for a brief moment before looking away awkwardly. “It was quite crowded, and one of my barmaids had come down with dragonpox and was unable to work that night. So it was just me and Esmie “ my other barmaid “ and we were both overworked.”
“Esmie?” James whispered, looking over at Marlene. “Is that…”
“Esmeralda Moon,” Marlene confirmed. “I think that is who he means. I remember her getting a job there after graduation.”
James narrowed his eyes at that. He knew Esmeralda. They had gone to Hogwarts together, although she had been in Hufflepuff. He remembered her as tall and pretty and remarkably uninteresting, but honest to a fault. So much, in fact, that she had more than once gotten herself in detention because of her inability to lie to a professor even when she would have been able to get away with it.
He filed that bit of information away for later. Whatever story Ringleton had to tell, it might be worth double-checking the accuracy of it.
“It was about eleven o’clock that night when this bloke entered,” Ringleton continued his story. “He came up to the bar and waited there for a while. He kept looking at the door kind of anxiously, so I figured he had a lady friend coming and I let him be.”
“Do you know who this man was?” Lestrange asked.
“I didn’t at the time,” Ringleton answered. “But then I saw the papers and I recognized his picture. It was Remus Lupin.”
James inhaled sharply.
“So how long did Mr. Lupin wait at the bar?”
Ringleton appeared to consider this. “Um… about forty-five minutes. Then his friend came.”
“His friend?” Lestrange pressed.
“Yes,” Ringleton said, his gaze sliding past Lestrange as though he meant to look at Lily. But he didn’t quite manage it, and he averted his eyes before he could meet hers. Looking at his own hands, he said, “Lily Evans. She showed up a bit before midnight and the two of them went to one of the tables in the corner to talk.”
“I never met Remus there…” Lily started, eyes flashing. She was straining against the chains that wrapped around her wrists, holding her in place. Her face was flushed and her reaction was so genuine that James couldn’t help but believe her.
Still, he couldn’t let her start arguing in the middle of the testimony. It wouldn’t help her case.
“Lily,” he hissed, interrupting her protests. “Don’t.”
“But he’s lying!” Lily spat.
“Mr. Potter, if you cannot control your client…” Bones threatened lazily from his seat on the Wizengamot’s raised platform.
“Lily, please,” James whispered, trying to keep his voice low enough so that the audience and the members of the Wizengamot wouldn’t hear. “Please, just let Lestrange finished his questioning. If you interrupt, it’s not going to help. It just makes you look more desperate… and more guilty.”
Lily glared, but nodded reluctantly.
Lestrange continued as though there had been no interruption. “So Mr. Lupin and Miss Evans met at The Hungry Hippogriff on September 15th, the day before Mr. Lupin was found dead.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you. Please proceed.”
“Like I said, we were busy that night,” Ringleton said, picking up his story once more, “so I didn’t pay much attention to either of them. They were there for about an hour, I believe. It was close to one o’clock when they left.”
“If you were so busy, how do you remember the time that they left?” Lestrange asked.
Ringleton looked down at the ground for a moment, then said, “They were arguing. Evans started yelling at Lupin. It caused a lot of commotion and I was worried they might actually start some sort of fight. I went over to tell them to calm down, but before I got there, Evans…” He looked up, stared squarely at Lestrange, and said flatly, “Evans yelled at Lupin that he was wrong about everything and he’d better change his mind. Or else.” He trailed off and let out a long sigh. “Then she stormed out.”
“I never said that! This whole thing is a lie,” Lily whispered at James, her face pale, her eyes wide with horror. “Why is he saying any of this?”
James didn’t answer. He was too busy studying Ringleton’s expression. Throughout the entire testimony, the barkeep had been unable to look directly at Lily. He had been unable to hold anyone’s gaze, but he had avoided even glancing at Lily. And there was something about his last comment, about the way he looked at Lestrange…
James glanced at Marlene. “What do you think?” he whispered.
Marlene looked back and forth between Ringleton and Lestrange. “I think you’re not going to be able to find any weakness in his testimony,” she murmured. “And I think he’s not going to back down from what he is saying.”
James ran a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated.
“Don’t do that,” Marlene muttered irritably. “You know it just makes your hair even more messy.”
Marlene had been right. Nothing James said or did had been able to change Ringleton’s story, and without any preparations, without knowing anything at all about the barkeep, he had been woefully unprepared for the cross-examination. Lestrange had sat there the entire time, smirking triumphantly, and James felt his anger grow.
Only Marlene’s constant admonishing glares had kept him from completely losing his temper at the situation.
Ringleton would not budge. His testimony had been damning, and James had no idea how to counter it.
But Lily had sworn that this was all a lie, and James believed her.
And so he had decided to go for a walk in the hopes that the fresh air would clear his mind and give him some idea of how to proceed. Lily had been taken back to Azkaban and Marlene had gone back to the office, and he just needed a chance to think.
He wandered aimlessly, finding himself turning down side streets and venturing into a long alley.
The attack came without warning and James, tired and frustrated and paying no attention whatsoever to his surroundings, stumbled forward as his wand went spinning out of his grasp. It slipped through his fingers even as he tried to regain his hold on the smooth wood, and flew in a wide arc. It was deftly caught by a hooded figure who stepped out of the shadows.
James tensed, ready for whatever would come next. He did not have his wand and his control of wandless magic was minimal at best, but if the figure came close enough, he could perhaps use Muggle fighting long enough to get away…
But the figure did not come any closer.
“Potter.”
The voice was hoarse and strained, and it sounded familiar. But James couldn’t place it.
“Who are you?” he demanded, shifting his weight forward slightly and focusing all his concentration on reaching for the magic inside. If he could just manage to somehow…
The wizard “ because James was fairly certain it was a man “ flicked his wand and James was suddenly shoved up against the building. He felt frozen, but his head was free enough that he could talk. A modified full body bind?
“You’ll have to forgive the spell but I’d rather not have you attacking me or trying to escape,” the unknown wizard said. He stepped into the dim light of the alley, and James saw that his face was covered by a mask. There were two thin slots for eyes and through those, he could see gray orbs staring back at him.
“What do you want?” James demanded, refusing to show his fear. He cursed inwardly for his own foolishness. How could he have let his guard down? Now he was trapped and helpless. Was this wizard working with Lestrange?
“Just a moment of your time,” the wizard answered. “I have something to tell you, and I need you to listen. And to understand.”
“Okay,” James said slowly, unsure. It didn’t seem like the wizard was going to kill him, but then why all the secrecy? And why did that voice sound so familiar?
“Lucius Malfoy was supposed to be Minister of Magic,” the wizard said in a hushed voice.
“What?”
“Be quiet,” the wizard snapped, eyes darting back and forth beneath the mask. “I don’t have time to waste on your interruptions.” His voice was angry, but James suddenly heard the worry beneath it, and watched as the head turned towards the opening of the alley.
The wizard was afraid.
James didn’t know what to think of that.
“Seven years ago. It was part of the plan, of his plan. Malfoy would be Minister, and Rodolphus Lestrange would be Chief of the Wizengamot. St. Mungo’s was to fall to Augustus Rookwood’s control,” the wizard said, his words rushed.
James frowned. “Rookwood? He’s an Unspeakable,” he countered, shaking his head. “He’s not even a Healer, why would he get control of…”
“Fool!” the wizard snapped irritably. “Do you think that mattered? What does the Dark Lord care for Healers or qualifications? It was about control, and Rookwood was a loyal follower. They all were, all three of them, and he had spent a long time building up this army and this plan.”
“The Dark Lord,” James repeated numbly. “I… Voldemort?”
“Do not say his name!”
The unknown wizard glanced around once more, his movements sharp, tense. It was almost as though he expected to be attacked at any moment, or to be spied upon and reported back to someone else. His eyes kept searching for something or someone, and it took James a moment to realize that this man must be a follower of Voldemort’s.
How else would he know the details of the Dark wizard’s plans?
James strained against the invisible binds holding him in place. But the spell was too strong, and his assailant still had both wands. Even if he were to somehow escape these confines, he wouldn’t be able to win any fight against the other wizard, and he probably wouldn’t even be able to escape.
He focused once again on the stranger, on the voice that sounded so oddly familiar.
“And then Malfoy died,” the wizard continued. “And Lestrange… the fool went against a Mudblood and lost.” There was a sneer in the voice, and a definitely derisive emphasis on both the slur and the word lost. James had a brief moment of vague wondering what bothered this man more “ that Lily was Muggleborn, or that Lestrange had been unable to beat her.
James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So?” he asked, opening his eyes once more. “Why does any of this matter?”
“Why does it matter?” the wizard repeated incredulously. “Don’t you see?” He stepped backwards, shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. “I thought you were supposed to be intelligent.”
“At least I am not a coward,” James spat. “You had to disarm me and cast a body bind before you would talk to me?”
The wizard hesitated. “I am no coward,” he said finally, his voice thin. “But I am no fool, either. And don’t speak of cowardice, I remember you at Hogwarts. You were hardly brave enough to duel anyone on your own, were you? And I don’t remember you ever allowing for a fair fight.”
James frowned. So this hooded figure knew him well enough to know he played pranks on students at Hogwarts, knew him well enough to know he was friends with Sirius. But who was it? A Slytherin he had pranked one too many times, perhaps?
But if the man disliked him so much, why hadn’t he simply hurt or killed James and then left? Why was he still standing here, talking about Lucius Malfoy?
The wizard looked about the alley once more, then said, “Don’t waste any more time. I have the wands, Potter, and I will silence you if I have to. But you need to hear this. You need to understand.”
“Alright,” James said, thoroughly bewildered but willing to play the game for now. “I’m listening.”
“Malfoy was dead and Lestrange was disgraced and the plans were ruined,” the stranger said. “The Dark Lord never wanted an all-out fight. He’d been recruiting, yes, and his followers… well, we’d taken a certain amount of glee in our soon-to-be future, but never anything people would really notice.”
“Muggles and Muggleborns,” James whispered, remembering what Dumbledore and Mr. McKinnon had both told him about the darkness of seven years ago.
“Nobody cares about them,” his assailant confirmed.
“I do,” James argued heatedly.
The wizard laughed. “No, Potter, you don’t. You never did. Very few lifted a finger to stop the Dark Lord seven years ago. Very few even noticed anything was happening.” He stepped closer to James. “Dumbledore, the old Muggle-loving fool, and a few of his loyal followers. But who else? Who really cared?”
James swallowed uneasily. It was true that he had not known of Voldemort’s slow rise in influence, and if he had not decided to take Lily’s case, he probably still would know nothing about it. But it was not prejudice that closed his eyes to the plight of Muggleborns, or intolerance that made him focus more on his own needs than on the growing bigotry in society. It was just…
Just what? Indifference?
That thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The stranger continued, “As I was saying, the Dark Lord did not want a big fight. He wanted to simply take over the wizarding society, to wrap his influence around everything that actually mattered. And he would have had that, too. A bloodless coup and then he would have had untold power and a beginning for his campaign to purge the world of dirty-blooded filth.”
“Why try to avoid bloodshed if his plan was to start killing people as soon as he had power?” James demanded, feeling sickened.
The man laughed again. “Ease, I suppose. It is far simpler to destroy when you already have the power, Potter, than to destroy while trying to gain power.” He paused, heaved a sigh. “But with Malfoy dead and Lestrange discredited, only Rookwood was left. And what could he do? What did St. Mungo’s matter to the Dark Lord if we did not have the Ministry and the Wizengamot?”
“Why did you need all three?”
“The four most powerful and important institutions in wizarding Britain, Potter,” the wizard said with a sneer. “The Ministry, the Wizengamot, St. Mungo’s, and Hogwarts. Hogwarts is beyond our reach at the moment, and even the Dark Lord will admit that Dumbledore is a powerful wizard. He could not risk taking over with only two of the institutions under his control. Leaving the other two to Dumbledore was foolish at best, and the Dark Lord is no fool.”
“So… so Voldemort is afraid of Dumbledore?” James questioned.
“He’s not afraid of anyone,” the stranger spat. But then he was silent, and although James could not see his face, had no way of knowing what expression he wore, there was the oddest sense that he was rethinking his words, perhaps relenting a bit. “He’s concerned,” he said at last. “And he is wise enough not to begin a battle unless he is sure he can win.”
“But seven years is a long time to wait,” James protested.
The wizard shrugged. “Time means little to the Dark Lord,” he answered. “But enough of this. Let me finish what I came to tell you, and then you may go.” He glanced again towards the entrance of the alley before turning attention back to James. “Lestrange was beaten by a Mudblood and was discredited, and Malfoy died, and the Dark Lord was not pleased. And look at everything Lestrange lost because of it.”
“You mean his reputation?” James asked.
“More than that,” the figure snarled. “When Evans was tried for murder, it was that old Muggle-loving Forsythe who was Chief. He died, though, and it wasn’t Lestrange who got the job. It was Bones. Bones won. Why do you think Lestrange is so desperate now to get Evans convicted? He has to prove to the Dark Lord that he is still worthy of his position in the ranks. Why do you think he did everything that he did? Why do you think Alice Longbottom died?”
James gaped. “Lestrange did that?”
“Of course. Because Frank Longbottom was Evans’ alibi. And that alibi did quite a lot of damage to the case. So Lestrange was left without the prestige he needed, and without the Dark Lord’s favor.”
James frowned. Once again, he was struck by the oddest sensation of knowing this man, of having met him before. The voice was strangely familiar, as was the man’s build…
“When the Dark Lord delayed his plans to take over the wizarding world, Dumbledore stopped paying attention. Or, at least, he was momentarily diverted by other issues, allowing the Dark Lord time to continue his recruiting. But the Headmaster grew suspicious again, he sent Lupin to investigate… and Lupin found something he wasn’t supposed to find.”
“What was it? What did he find?” James demanded eagerly. Would this be it, would this be the moment that the truth was revealed? Would he finally learn what it was that had lead to Lupin’s death, and would that somehow allow him to figure out who had actually killed the wizard?
But the other wizard simply shook his head. “I don’t know. That bit of information was never imparted to us. The Dark Lord did not find it relevant.”
They were both silent for a moment, James trying to get over his disappointment and not receiving an answer, and the other wizard seeming to be gathering up the rest of his thoughts.
“Why are you telling me this?” James asked finally.
“Because I want you to understand what you are up against. I want you to understand why this is about so much more than personal revenge for Lestrange. It is about power and greed and his need to prove his worth, and he will stop at nothing to succeed,” the man answered. He came closer to James, close enough for his gray eyes to be seen clearly through the slits in the mask. “And because we all know that Evans didn’t kill Lupin,” the man finished. “I don’t know who did, specifically, but I know that the Dark Lord ordered it.”
“But why would a servant of the Dark Lord be revealing all this?” James asked warily.
The wizard did not answer right away. And just when James thought he wouldn’t answer, he said, “I am not so loyal to the Dark Lord, it would appear.” And then he pointed his wand and James and muttered a spell.
James woke up on the dirty ground of the alley a few hours later, the immobilization spell removed, and his wand replaced within the folds of his robes.
“Merlin, mate, you look horrible,” Sirius announced as James sank wearily into the chair behind his desk and dropped his head onto the wooden surface.
“Are you alright?” Marlene asked worriedly, crouching down next to him. He lifted his head briefly, and she met his eyes, searching his gaze for some sort of answer.
“I’m fine,” James said. He attempted to sound dismissive, as though he could get them to drop the subject if they believed that it was of no consequence to him. But his voice didn’t quite manage the right tone, and Marlene simply raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “I’m fine, Lena,” he said again.
Marlene nodded slowly and straightened back to her full height. But there was still suspicion in her gaze.
“What are you two doing here?” James asked, glancing at the clock. “It’s late.”
“When you didn’t return after your walk, I was worried,” Marlene explained. “I asked Sirius, and he hadn’t seen you, either. We were just about to start searching for you when you entered.”
“Rough day, huh?” Sirius said, conjuring a chair for himself with an idle wave of his wand and flopping into the seat. “McKinnon told me about the trial. Tough luck.”
James snorted. “Lily says it’s all a lie.”
“Well, if the woman accused of murder says it then it must be true,” Sirius drawled sarcastically.
James frowned at his best friend. Sirius’ attitude towards the entire situation seemed bordering on cavalier, but he supposed he couldn’t blame the other wizard for not being convinced of Lily’s innocence. He had yet to meet the redhead, after all. He had yet to hear her speak about Remus’ death and her need for justice, regardless of what it cost her.
And some voice in the back of his head whispered that he shouldn’t be as convinced, either. Lily had lied… a lot. And she had been found standing over the body, blood on her robes. It was pretty damning evidence.
“James, really,” Marlene interrupted his thought, “what happened to you?”
James sighed and started to relay the story. It took him a while as he struggled not to leave out even a single word. Everything the mysterious wizard had said had been important, every detail had been a clue about something. But he still couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out how this new information influenced what they already knew.
Marlene and Sirius listened in silence. As the story progressed, Marlene’s expression grew grim and her face paled drastically. By contrast, Sirius leaned forward, eyes flashing dangerously; his reaction, though silent, was still obviously much more volatile.
“And then the wizard must have hit me with something, some spell, and I woke up later.” James finished a bit ruefully, running a hand through his hair nervously. It galled him, when he thought back over the events, at how easily he had been bested. He had not seen the attack coming, and had failed to protect himself properly.
“Well,” Marlene said after a pause, “we did know that this was about more than just revenge on Evans for Lestrange. There is far more at stake here than just the outcome of a trial.”
“It seems like it all revolves around this… this Voldemort,” James agreed.
“We have to do something,” Sirius seethed. “We have to stop this. We have to reveal Lestrange for what he is and fight back.”
“I think we should focus first on finding a way to win this case,” Marlene countered. “If that is possible.”
“Lily never thought it was,” James said despondently. “From the very beginning, she was convinced that we would lose. That I would lose. She cared only about getting justice for Lupin.”
“This is about more than just Evans,” Sirius snapped, rising to his feet and beginning to pace. “More lives than hers will be ruined if Voldemort gets power. You’ve heard the sorts of things he wants to happen, the things he believes in…” He trailed off for a moment, then shook his head and said, “Blood purity and all that nonsense.”
“Be reasonable, Sirius,” Marlene said tensely. “What do you think we can do? Track down this Voldemort and demand a duel?”
“You heard all the things Dumbledore said!” Sirius retorted, flushed. He stopped his pacing, whirled around to face her. “You heard what he believes Voldemort is planning.”
“Yes,” Marlene agreed in a clipped tone. “And I’m not foolish enough to think the three of us can stop him by rushing around with our wands drawn.”
“So now it’s foolishness to want to fight evil?”
James reached across the table and caught Marlene’s wrist before she could respond to Sirius’ last comment. He shook his head at her and she gave him a hard look, but let the matter drop. Still, James could see the annoyance in her eyes, and he knew how little she thought of Sirius’ need for action.
But it wasn’t just this tale that had gotten under Sirius’ skin. James knew exactly what had upset his best mate so much, and while he was worried that Sirius’ method of dealing with his frustration “ attack first and plan later “ was hardly appropriate given the circumstances, he could not blame Sirius for his feelings.
After all, it was likely that if Malfoy had been one of Voldemort’s followers, other elitist pureblood families had been followers as well.
Like the Blacks.
Like Regulus.
James thought of the wizard who had attacked him in the alley and sighed. They needed to know more.
“We should tell Dumbledore what we’ve learned,” Marlene suggested finally. “And then we should figure out a way to show that Ringleton was lying.”
“Assuming he was lying,” Sirius hissed. “For all we know, every word he said was true. So then we’d just be wasting valuable time trying to poke holes in his story instead of focusing on the real threat.”
“Lily didn’t kill Lupin,” James said flatly. “Even the wizard who attacked me believed that. And I will not stand idly by and watch as she is made a scapegoat. Again.”
Sirius gave him a searching look, then rolled his eyes and looked away.
“Besides,” James continued, “if this trial is Lestrange’s chance to prove that he deserves the power he has been promised, then we have to stop him. It will be our best way of doing something to hurt Voldemort’s plans. I’m sure Dumbledore will agree with that.”
Sirius still looked mutinous. This was clearly not enough for him. Not while his family “ and more particularly, his younger brother “ was being sucked into the wrong side of a coming war.
But there was little any of them could do at the moment. How could they fight an enemy they had never seen, a wizard that they had only just heard of?
And that thought made something twist unpleasantly in James’ stomach. How could he only be hearing of Voldemort now? How had he been so blind to the plight of Muggleborns before? Voldemort might have been quietly plotting in the background for these seven years, but if everything else James had learned was true, then prior to that, the evil wizard had been much more active.
He had still been acting in secret, though. And he had been good enough at it that most of the wizarding world seemed not to notice.
“I’ll take to Esmie,” Marlene offered softly. “Maybe she can help us. Maybe she can tell us what actually happened that night.”
James acquiesced with a nod. “Sirius… can you talk to Ringleton?” he asked. “And also tell Dumbledore?” With any luck, Dumbledore would be better able to offer something that would appease Sirius’ fury.
“Fine,” Sirius muttered ungraciously. “What are you going to do?”
James thought back to one particular bit of information he had learned, that Lestrange had killed Alice Longbottom. “I’m going to talk to Frank Longbottom,” he said. “I have something I need to find out.”
Sirius and Marlene both left the office, and James leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes briefly. It might be about more than simple revenge for Lestrange, but James now knew that it was about more than just winning for him. It was about more than saving Lily or getting justice for Lupin.
Now, it was about the need to choose a side in the coming war. And he knew, without a doubt, which side he was on.