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Broken Wings

This is a new fic that I wrote. It was sort of hard work and I know its not too good and all, but I did put my heart and soul to it. So please if you can help it then do review it. Only suggestions can make me better and I crave to be better.

Also, I don't own this. And special thanks to Gregory David Roberts and lili evans dot com, for some lines are theirs.

Good day to you all.

Love,

C.S.

The entire room was engulfed in an eerie silence- a silence more unnerving than death looming over its victim. The harsh patting of the Nike shoes on the floor was almost too loud for even the shoe-wearer. As the object of his pursuit came finally in sight, the scuffing of his heel against the floor softened, and he let a sigh escape, perfected by years of practice. The eyes of the room's occupant darted towards the pitying, almost cold and calculating gaze, as his body tensed and his lower lip trembled. The shoe-wearer sat down opposite the tremulous man waiting, patiently. As the seconds turned to minutes, his gaze became almost too terrifying, too demanding for the man.

It was time, the shoe-bearer contemplated with another patient sigh because patience is not passive- it is concentrated strength, and that was all it took.

The frightened man broke down, pouring out the remorse of his crime, the plea for mercy and forgiveness.

The captivator's lips turned into a fine smirk, a merit to the feeling of pride rising in him. It was done. The confession to the terrible crime was out in the open. All that remained was the sentence that would be served for the crime done in the heat of passion. It was the end of another mystery- another battle that wagered between the good and the evil. The just had won. The case was concluded and the victory was his. He could finally sleep peacefully, knowing he had done some good, helped someone, and brought justice to this world.

He was James Charlus Potter- a revolutionary who had gained his ideals and morals though the injustice he had witnessed in the society; by the bitter experiences he had suffered. The smolders of his shame and guilt had flamed into anger at the unfairness of all he had been through.

He grimaced at the sight of the other detectives hauling the ass of Thorfinn Rowle- the murderer of Mary Rowle, his wife and a famous singer. The reason had actually been rather anti-climactic for the grotesque act- she had filed for a divorce and was dating another man, which had outraged him- to say the least- and then as the opportunity arose, he had killed her, in again a rather dull fashion, a small bit of arsenic in her morning tea.

How original, James rolled his eyes, shrugging slightly before making his way to the coffee machine.

"James," a raucous voice filled the entire Homicide Department.

"Good work there, mate," Longbottom smiled at him, coming forward to shake his hand. James shook hands with his colleague absently, reminiscing their first meeting. It was the same smile that he had given him a year ago when he had entered the department as a law enforcement agent, there was something in the upturning of his lips- a kind of mischievous exuberance, that had got to James and he had decided to trust this stout man with laughter crinkling the corner of his eyes.

Frank Longbottom was the partner and one of the few friends that James had. A man in mid-thirties and married as a high school student, Frank was good person with a rather dry sense of humor. One of the most endearing qualities of Frank for James was his morning ritual. It was somewhat amusing, the way Frank entered the department right at 9:07, not a minute before or after. How Frank balanced James's morning latte in one hand, and his mobile in another, texting Alice as he walked in his usual refined way. As Frank would take a seat in his office, he would receive a call from Alice about the groceries and they would indulge in a 3 minute phone conversation which involved a lot of mushy dialogues. At sharp half past 9, Frank would then begin with his first case.

"Nah, it was nothing. Almost too easy," James returned his smile with a winsome smirk.

"Always the modest," Frank answered, with an exaggerated raise of his eyebrows.

"So anyway, down to business. Are you free tonight? Alice and I are going to the new movie with a couple of friends and we would like you to come along. Naturally, the pack would be incomplete without Remus Lupin, and it's your responsibility to haul his arse up at the theatre at 8 sharp! And I'm not taking no for an answer!"

"Obviously," James gave a slight chuckle. "Do you ever? We'll be there!"

"Remember to dress your best, mate," Frank advised sternly, "Because there are going to be gorgeous girls around and someone special for you!"

"Alice is trying to set me up again, isn't she? She never learns that old hag!"

James still winced at the memory of the previous attempt. Agreeably the girl was pretty, but weren't they all? She wasn't special; yes maybe good enough to be used and discarded but more than that! James snorted. He didn't quite remember her name, but that laughter was embedded in the depth of his mind, he still had nightmares over that squeaky, shrill and over the top laughter. He grimaced at the memory of that girl's unfortunate advances and then when she had cried on his shoulder that was the ultimate strike. James remembered running faster than he would have ran after a criminal.

"She believes there's still hope for you, my friend. And yes, you better not dismiss this girl. She isn't like the rest. She is a friend of mine and you would not come across a better girl for yourself. She is charming and yet has a temper of a dragon

"Does she wield fire too?"

"Nope, but she can definitely wield you." Frank answered, hinting shamelessly.

"You are putting her on too high a pedestal, Longbottom. I hope she doesn't fall, for your sake."

"Well, Potter, she has never taken a fall, and I doubt she ever will!"

James snorted slightly.

"Whatever you say, O Your Highness!" he mumbled under his breath, but Frank heard him anyway.

"You will see Potter," he retorted, in his guttural voice.

-X-

As the clock struck 1, James decided it was a rather decent time to meet Remus. It was his break- the only time when Remus was actually free from his tangled web of shit, which Remus called his life.

Remus Lupin another close friend of James was a doctor by profession. An overall wise man, Remus had always been there when James needed him. Remus was probably one of the closet things to a family that James had. Remus had always been that sensible, intelligent and hard working man. For James, Remus was probably been one of the biggest inspiration, having suffered more than anyone he knew of and still rising from those ashes with only a few scars. Remus was gentle and patient with James and for all that and much more he loved him.

So James Potter strutted towards the door, radiating his general air of arrogant impudence.

Faces turned at the sight of him. Even after a year in the department, people still couldn't help but turn to gawk at this lanky Greek God with that perfect combination of arrogance and humility in his ambiance.

-X-

"Moony," James smiled at the pale figure with premature lines etched on his face, his light brown hair falling on his deep coffee eyes. As the dull light illuminated the scars etched on his face, Remus gave a slight sincere smile to his best friend, his shoulders dropping in gentle awareness.

"Prongs," James did not wait for his friend to invite him in, he went ahead and sat down on the large comfortable couch, eyebrows rising as he saw his friend retreating back to the corpse working his way inside the heart though a sharp blade.

Remus saw his friend's raised eyebrows and he smiled a little to himself reflecting on the way the small and murky room lightened by his friends presence. The bare walls with plaster peeling off them seemed a little livelier due to his friend's presence. But then James always had that effect on his surroundings. Remus felt a sad smile gracing his lips at the stoic mask his friend carried, flashes of his old self seen barely and only by very few people, he considered himself lucky to be counted among those few.

"What are you doing? Busy?" James enquired, grimacing and turning away from the gross sight. Gore always made his stomach churn.

"Just practicing, Prongs. We have a new patient suffering from a heart problem. He comes in for the operation in 2 days,"

"Who is this patient of yours?"

"Gary Richards."

"Isn't he the drug user, women abuser guy?" James asked rather baffled.

When Remus nodded in acknowledgement, James made a appalled expression but otherwise remained silent.

Remus gave a hint of a smile before he started in mock repetition, "I SWEAR by Apollo the physician and Aesculapius, and Hygiea, and Panacea, and all the gods and goddesses, that, according to my ability and judgment, I will keep this Oath and this stipulation. To consider him who taught me this Art as dear to me as my parent, to share my substance with him, and to relieve his necessities if required; to look upon his offspring as equivalent to my own brothers, and to teach them this Art, if they wish to learn it, without fee or stipulation. And that by precept, lecture, and every other form of instruction, I will impart a knowledge of the Art to my own sons, and those of my teachers…."

James gave an exasperated groan getting a hollow laugh out of Remus.

Remus gave a cheeky smile before quoting the words of his medical school dean Dumbledore to answer the questions luring behind those glasses of James.

"Dumbledore once told me that there are no good people or bad people. It is the deeds that have good or bad in them. What people do or not links them to good and evil. The truth is that in an instant of real love, in the heart of anyone can change their whole purpose of life."

"Frank ordered us to the theatre at 8 sharp," James told his friend in a flat tone, busy avoiding the gruesome sight before him.

"Prongs pal, This is the best offer I have had in the entire month ."

XXXXXXX

It was strange; James realized as he walked on the dust laden boulevard, his inside was in a morbidly jovial turmoil. He had a feeling that something was about to happen, but he put the thought somewhere deep in the well of his mind, now was not the time to think about what lay ahead in future, he concluded, at that moment all he should concentrate on was reaching the station on time.

The station was in a frenzy of activities, the normally organized place saw people running around and as James stood trying to decipher the cause of such upraise among the people, he was pushed aside by a rough large hand.

"Move aside or do some work, Potter," barked the harsh lieutenant.

"Sir, what happened?"

"The Rampage Killer has left us a witness. We have a direct order of keep this witness safe until the rampage killer has been captured for good. You are going to take the lead on this one, Potter; this again is a direct order. They only want the best, apparently,"

James cocked his eyebrow and gave a smile laden with his usual indifference.

"Also," the lieutenant continued ignoring James, "the witness will be under your custody and will be residing with you. Any problem?"

James gave a slight shake of his head , tousled his hair a bit, and demanded for Benjy Fenwick and Caradoc Dearborn to report to him.

"Benjy and Caradoc, we have a witness, as you have already heard, and he's been brought in as we talk. The witness would be rather stressed, so we will take it easy. Tomorrow report at sharp 9, we have a major pain in the arse to catch . Any questions?"

"No Sir," two synchronized replies echoed in the station.

-X-

Astounding and puzzling images from the past tumbled and turned in his mind like leaves on a wave of wind and his blood so thrilled that he could not suppress a smile, finally James knew he had a real, legitimate chance of capturing The Rampage Killerand giving him exactly what he deserved for what he had put the people through. As he walked in the bright interrogation room subdued by the realms of bright piercing sunlight, his gaze fell upon fiery red locks tainted by copper in that radiance.

He saw the ironic smile that primed and swelled the arch of her lips. There was astuteness in that smile, astuteness that would be mistaken for arrogance but James did not make that mistake. He saw her eyes, large and spectacularly green, a green that trees would be in vivid dreams, a green that the sea would be when a storm was about to hit the coast.

James blinked back satisfied that her emerald orbs were resting on him, as astounded and stunned as his were.

On that high chair sat the exquisite witness.

James Potter finally understood that morbid jovial sensation, he had felt and he could not curb the smirk tugging on his lips.

I do hope you guys review it.. And you are probably wondering where Sirius and Peter are. Well they would be introduced in the next chapter.

Love,

C.S.