Adventure Lives Forever

Chapter One: Escape

"James and Lily Potter, you have been found guilty of the torture and consequential insanity of Frank and Alice Longbottom...

Remus Lupin sat in the court room of the Wizengamot, watching as two of his best friends were found guilty of a crime committed by Voldemort. One of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy, sat on the other side of the room, plainly smirking and very pleased with himself. Lily and James, chained to chairs, were pale as death and trembling. Lily kept darting frantic looks across the room, whilst James was putting up a futile struggle with his bonds.

You are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban Prison.

'Come on, Albus,' Remus murmured to himself, wringing his hands as he looked on, helpless. 'Get here soon...please...'

Your wands are to be destroyed to prevent further usage, and your place of residence in Godric's Hollow is to be destroyed to eliminate all chances of further crimes on behalf of any unidentified allies you may have.

An old wizard named Albus Dumbledore Apparated into a corner of the courtroom, noticed only by Remus. In his arms he held a small baby with scruffy black hair and enormous green eyes. He hurriedly hid the child under his cloak as its mother saw him. Then he discretely unlocked the door of the courtroom. "Albus!" Lily shouted. "Albus, please, you can't let this happen, please!" The baby started screaming at the sound of his mother's voice. Albus winced. Tears started to fall silently down James' face.

Your child, Harry Potter, is to be placed into care of his godfather, Sirius Black.

At that moment two men burst into the courtroom through the newly opened door, running and out of breath. One was tall and handsome, with shoulder length black hair and blazing grey eyes, and the other was short and larger, with pale blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. The two of them were brandishing wands and muttering under their breath between pants. Their wands were pointed towards the Potters. Smiling in relief, Remus stood up to attract Sirius' attention, and he started to chant with Peter so Sirius could talk to the Potters. Ministry officials were coming at the Marauders from all angles

"Lily, James, there's not a lot of time, so just listen," Sirius whispered hurriedly. "We're getting you out of here. You're going to be okay, and I promise I will take care of Harry until you get back—I swear it."

"Sirius, what are you talking about?" James asked pitifully. Sirius cringed at seeing his best friend cry.

"Just trust me, okay. You know that most people have past lives, right?" James gave a groggy nod. "Well, we're putting you back in yours until it's safe for you to come back." They seemed to understand this. "Here." He swiftly wrapped James' Invisibility Cloak around James' neck. Then he slipped a piece of parchment into his shirt pocket. "This explains everything."

"Thanks mate," said James' disembodied head.

"Thank you, Sirius," added Lily. He nodded, and was about to say again how he would take care of Harry, when two Aurors grabbed him from behind and pulled him to the floor.

"NOW!" Sirius yelled. Peter and Remus finished the last words of the spell, and pointed their wands at Lily and James. The room was overcome with a flash of blood red light, and then the room cleared as fast as it had clouded over. Everyone stared at the two empty chairs in the centre of the room where the Potters had been restrained only seconds before. As one, the three remaining Marauders smiled as they watched Dumbledore produce his wand. Peter pulled Sirius out of his tangle with two dazed Aurors, and they walked over to where Remus was standing behind the old wizard with half moon spectacles. Albus handed the baby to Remus, and, before the Aurors could stop him, pointed his wand at the jury, judge and 'witnesses' in the stands, and completed the last spell in the Marauders' escape plan.

"Obliviate!"

"Lily? Lily, wake up!" Lily opened her eyes with difficulty. She saw James' face looking down at her, and relief flooded through her.

"James, thank Merlin!"

"It's okay, remember what Sirius said." He took her in his arms, whispering to her soothingly.

"What did Sirius say?" She tried to sit up, but she was still weak, and he had to help her onto the bench. Despite her bleariness she noticed he had the Invisibility Cloak tucked under his arm. She also noticed that she appeared to be in a human sized cage, with straw and sand lining the floor and the unmistakable stench of urine coming from somewhere too close by. The only light came from the nearly full moon, visible through a thickly barred window high up near the dirt-encrusted ceiling.

"He said that everything would be okay," James replied, as if that cleared up everything. She rolled her eyes and pulled the protruding piece of parchment out of his shirt pocket. "Oh," was all he could manage. He wrapped his arm around her, and she leaned back against him. Together, they read the apple-green words on the parchment:

Dear James and Lily,

Three words: Please. Don't. Panic. We know what we're doing. You just have to understand that we only heard the verdict the night before you get this letter, so we were a little strapped for time. If we could have come up with a simpler plan, we would have. But we didn't. Live with it. On the bright side, you're not in Azkaban! In fact, where you are, Azkaban hasn't been built yet! Remus would like me to add that whilst there is no wizard prison, in the late 19th century witches and wizards still had permission by the Ministry to use the killing curse on all known magical criminals. He would also like me to add that in your past lives, you have been accused of murder. About your past lives: the Rebecca Rendell and Stefan Hanford of 1884 are the very different, reincarnated souls of the Lily and James Potter of today. (That is MY today, which is—temporarily—no longer YOUR today.) Rebecca is a French thief who met Stefan in London. Stefan appears to be a rich, intelligent, English aristocratic git before he met Rebecca, and then he became a particularly brutal bastard, by all accounts, with a bad case of pyromania. And from the written descriptions we found, you seem to look similar enough to be recognisable as Lily and James. The earliest historical mention of them is of an arrest in a Texan prison, and after that it was discovered that they were partners in crime for about nine years, at the end of which they died in a fire. By the way, I know this because I was up until the wee hours of the morning looking all this up with Remus and Peter. Dumbledore refused to tell us anything—something about 'not changing the past'. But when have the Marauders ever listened to our teachers, eh? So, Remus' advice is to avoid authority figures. My advice is to avoid Texas. According to prison records, all three prisoners in the jail (that's you two, 'Stefan and Rebecca' and some other guy whose name we don't know) broke out a few hours after their arrest. If you do end up getting arrested, I'd like to hear the story of how you broke out. The details are vague, but apparently it involved a lot of bleeding on Rebecca's part.

Lily winced.

After that, there are a few sightings of you around Europe. Remus is telling me not to tell you in case you go to these places on purpose. But I am telling him vat I can.

"I guess he meant 'that I can'." James muttered.

"No, he means 'vat'." Lily corrected, picking up on the reference to the Muggle building. "See? Vat-i-can. The Vatican, in Rome."

I just got smacked by the rat. I hope you appreciate the lengths I'm going to to get you out of this mess. Seriously though, you know I'd do anything for you guys. We all would. So, after that, quite a lot happens to you. And it's all very boring and bloody and I'm not going to bother telling you. Suffice it to say, I'm jealous. Bring me back a souvenir (something pointy) and I might not kill you. Now, the reason we sent you back to your past lives is a little hard to explain. Peter came up with the idea. Dumbledore, you might be surprised to hear, thought it was a brilliant plan. Remus still isn't sure. I'm just glad you're out of harm's way. Now, we sent you back to 1884 because we needed time. Simple. Dumbledore, Wormtail, Moony and I need time either to clear your names or perform a heck of a lot of memory charms. We could have just done that with you still here. Rotting away in Azkaban. Something tells me you'll be glad to hear we decided against it. So, we sent you out of this time, into an old time, which you've actually already been in because your spirits were there. As you read this, you're sitting in your past lives. Now (and please don't panic), in your past lives, you died in 1888, which is four years from where you are now. So don't be surprised if you are rather old when you look in the mirror. You don't have long left to live. That didn't come out right. Whatever, it doesn't matter, because as soon as we clear your names, Dumbledore is going to lift the barrier which is stopping you from returning at the moment. He put it up so that you won't come back until your name is cleared. It's very heavy and complex magic. Only Dumbledore can control it. So just as long as the old man doesn't pop his clogs before he can lift the barrier, we've got no worries. Moony is telling me that the way in which I am phrasing this letter is not likely to inspire confidence. His words, not mine. To get back you have to do a very simple spell. I'll let Moony tell you how to do that. I haven't got the faintest idea. All I would suggest is that, unless you want to burn any articles of clothing you are currently wearing, you will keep tight hold of this letter. Very tight. All that's left to say now is have fun in 1884, and that Harry will be perfectly fine with his godfather. Better than fine—because I love that kid. And I've got Moony looking over my shoulder. Just in case. Your favourite mutt, Sirius

Underneath Sirius' note was another letter in midnight blue, easily recognisable as Remus' more mature handwriting:

Dear James and Lily,

I have to agree with Sirius on one thing: there is no reason to panic. The spell to return to the future (or present, whichever) should be no problem for the former Heads of Hogwarts. Basically, the key element is an object from both past and present. More specifically, an object from the two exact areas of time that you wish to travel between. You are reading from that object right now. Don't lose it. If you do, a substantial amount of clothing would be an adequate replacement. Firstly, you need a fire. It doesn't matter how it gets there or what you use for fuel or even how big it is. All you need is some flames. Secondly, you need to make sure that you have contact with each other. Holding hands should be enough, and you shouldn't let go until you reach home. Then, you need a little blood from both of you and some sand (The Sands of Time. Ironic, eh?). Throw all of it into the fire at the same time. Next, one of you has to ask: 'nonne his verbes, conseseus recissus est?' (It's Latin—you don't have to understand it, you just have to say it) You will hear in reply: 'tempus perditum est, in venietur'. When you do it's alright to continue. You simply say 'Harry'. We had to choose a personal keyword that corresponds to the right time frame, and we hope you don't mind. The word you should hear in reply is 'Potter'. If you don't hear it, then you mustn't proceed. That is imperative, because you only have one object to use. If you do hear the reply word, throw the object (so that's this letter) into the fire, and hold on. It's a bit like flooing. You'll come back to the good old eighties with a bit of a bump, and that will be that. So don't lose hope. Try the spell periodically. We promise you we will have Albus lift the barrier the second it is safe to return. Good luck. See you soon—very soon. Remus

P.S. Peter sends his best wishes, and says: Have faith in the Marauders. Have we ever steered you wrong?

As soon as Lily finished reading the letter, she just felt worse. She loved the boys—she really did—but she wasn't sure if they all had their heads on properly. Even Remus was easily led astray by his friends.

"So where exactly are we?" James shrugged.

"In a filthy little Texan prison in the middle of nowhere," came a deep voice from the shadows. Lily jumped. Slowly, a figure stepped out from the dark corner. It was a man, clad in black from head to toe: a black wide brim hat that hid his face, a black leather waistcoat, black leather trousers, black boots and a black, heavy, floor length, leather coat. Under the hat, Lily could see a rather romantically long mass of shoulder length, curly, dark brown hair. The whole ensemble was rather appealing to Lily's romantic mind. She fought the urge to giggle as she felt James' arm tighten around her protectively.

"And...you are...?" James asked warily."

"Just as baffled as you are," the stranger replied coyly, keeping his distance. James noticed the protruding gun at the man's right hip, but despite his apprehensions, slid off the bench and walked over to the armed prisoner, of whom he knew nothing, quite confidently.

"I'm James." He held out his hand, and the figure stiffened. Still James held out his hand in a friendly manner, and after some hesitation, the man shook it. (Lily made a mental note of the black leather gloves he wore).

"Gabriel," the man offered. James smiled, having made some headway.

"This is my wife, Lily." Gabriel inclined his head towards her and tilted the brim of his hat.

"A pleasure."

"So," James began. He shifted awkwardly. "Ummm...this is going to sound crazy...but do you by any chance know how Lily and I ended up here?"

"Don't you remember?"

"No," he replied bluntly. Gabriel didn't say anything for a beat, but then he doffed his hat and they saw his face for the first time. Lily's heart skipped a beat. Gabriel was......well, she had more important things to worry about than those deep brown eyes and that ruggedly handsome sullenness...not to mention that unkempt stubble that made him look so...rebellious... In the two seconds Lily had valiantly resisted the urge to drool, James had realized that (whilst Lily told herself she should not worry about the mysterious stranger) this man was the one thing he was most worried about. Forget not getting killed or arrested, this was about losing his girl to a stubbly, 19th century biker for heaven's sake!

"Well, you were out cold when I got here," Gabriel replied.

"Great. So how do we get out?"

"You're on your own there. I'm staying."

"By choice?" Lily asked incredulously.

"Not for long," he replied slyly. Lily's heart wasn't behaving itself today...whenever today was...and her throat had gone a bit dry. There was silence for a moment. James sighed, walked over to the bars and started kicking them.

"That's not going to help, love," Lily muttered. Gabriel scoffed and leaned back against the dirty wall with his arms folded. James just kept on kicking. "So what (clang) did you get arrested for?" Lily asked conversationally.

"It's (bang) not important," was all she got in return.

"Shouldn't there be a guard (slam) or a sheriff or something?"

"Yeah," James grunted, "If they're not careful we may move about freely in our impervious, 10 by 9, metal prison (clang-clang)." This at least earned a chuckle from Gabriel.

"You know James," he began, "I've never..." he trailed off.

"Never wh—?!" Gabriel clamped his hand over Lily's mouth before she could go on. James stopped kicking, and in the eerie silence all three of them heard the strange, shuffling thumps that were growing steadily louder.

Sssssss-thump

Sssssss-thump

Sssssss....

"Good evening, Van Helsing."

If Gabriel hadn't had his leather clad hand still clamped over her mouth, Lily would have screamed. James made a small hoarse noise and stumbled away from the huge figure near the bars. It was colossal: a man mountain that walked with a limp, and had long, sharp talons that sprouted where fingers would have been on a human; its skin was pale and sickly, reminding James and Lily of that of a Dementor, and its eyes were... Well, its eye sockets oozed something black and rancid, and yet it still seemed able to see them. And despite the fact that the...thing...had no lips, it seemed able to talk without them. "And what would you be doing here, hmm?" it continued in a strong Texan accent.

"Looking for you," Gabriel replied, finally releasing Lily. He swept forward quickly, reached into his coat and withdrew:

"A paperweight?" Lily asked before she cold stop herself.

"It's an Orb of Thesulah," he shot back, sounding not a little hurt. The disfigured bulk shuffled back at the sight of the round, pale, shiny ball that Gabriel held, seemingly more impressed with Gabriel's 'paperweight' than Lily.

"Where did you get that?" it rasped. As an answer, Gabriel produced a tiny scroll, and knelt down, holing the pale ball in one hand and the scroll in the other.

"Your soul is to be restored, Olivier," Gabriel told the creature. "By command of the Knights of The Holy Order," he added, before he began to read from the scroll. It was in Rumanian...not that the Potters knew that:

"Nici mort al flinçtei! Te invoc, spirit al trecerii! Reda trupuli ce separa omul de animal! Cu ajutorul acestui magic glob de cristal!"

"No! I won't let you get away with this, Van Helsing! I'll see you hanged!" cried the creature in a fit of rage. He pounded against the bars, and then, realising the attempt was useless, tried to flee, but the door leading to the exit wouldn't open. Lily was forced to clamp her hands over her ears as the brittle bars of the prison quivered and debris fell from above their heads to the ground.

"Te implore Doamne, nu ignora accasta rugaminte!" Gabriel went on with more gusto, seemingly happier now that he had the creature's attention. "Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transportasufletul la el!" The ball in his hand had begun to glow with a frightening, ethereal light that lit up the entire room, illuminating the crumbling walls and bouncing off of the bars. Unfortunately for James, this meant that he could also see the creature, which was still seething on the other side of them, a whole lot better.

"Este scris, aceasta putere este dreptul popuruil meu de a conduce..."

The crumbling ceased as the creature actually took the time to listen to what Gabriel was chanting. After a pause, it started laughing.

"That can't be good," James muttered. Gabriel stopped and fixed the laughing beast with an agitated glare. "What?" he snapped.

"That's the Spell of Restoration of the Soul, you moronic monk!"

"I know!"

"I've never had a soul! You can't restore something if it was never there in the first place!" Gabriel frowned "You've never...but then..."

"All you holy fools! Always assuming there was once good in everything; there never was good in me! And now you can't touch me," it added, leaning against the bars and...well, James thought it was smiling. It was a little hard to tell without lips.

There was a moment of silence, where no-one moved. James and Lily stared, and the beast did the same. In a movement as fast as lightning, Gabriel extended his arms and two metal cogs appeared, strapped at his wrists, with indentations like razors. In an instant they began to spin at a frighteningly quick speed. The ball fell to the ground and shattered, spraying shards of glass in all manner of directions. With the wheel-shaped razors, he cut through he bars swiftly, slicing across the belly of the creature at the same time. They just slid into it like he was butter. Both Gabriel and the beast let out an animalistic cry, before the top half of the creature fell away from the bottom and fell to the ground with a squelchy plop. Before it hit the floor, Gabriel flipped back his wrists, once again hiding the lethal weapons from view, and crossed himself with a furious mutter, "Requiescat in pacem."

"Wow! That was amazing!" James exclaimed. "How the hell did you do that thing with...and those spinning...with the...wow. You're a monk?"

"Thank you, and no" Gabriel returned, swinging the door of the cell open. He had cut through the lock with his weapons as he had bisected the creature. "Are you comin--?"

"LILY!" James ran to the fallen form of his wife. She wasn't moving, and she was bleeding from her throat, wherein were embedded shards of glass.

"The Orb of Thesulah," Gabriel hissed, clambering back inside the cell.

"The what?" James cried, slightly hysterical.

"The paperweight," he replied ruefully. "When it smashed it must have...I'm sorry."

"Don't stand there saying you're sorry, help me!" he shouted. As he spoke he was ripping the sleeve of his shirt off, using more of the glass to cut the stiff material. He cut his own arm in the process, but either didn't notice or didn't care. "Come on, baby, don't do this to me...shit, I want my wand..." He tried to pull the glass out of her throat, but only succeeded in deepening the wound. More blood dripped onto his hands.

"Here, let me." Gabriel knelt down and gently extracted the largest piece of the orb, stemming the flow of the blood with his other hand. James nodded his thanks, and wrapped the sleeve around her throat.

"She needs proper attention," he murmured, lifting her limp form into his arms. Gabriel regarded him for a moment.

"I'm meeting some people who would be able to take care of her." James looked hopeful. "We'd have to leave now," he added. James nodded fervently. "Follow me." They clambered through the bars, slower than they could have been with James carrying Lily so delicately, and made for the door through which the creature had entered. Gabriel had to move the bottom half of the corpse to allow them access. As the entered the room, James's attention was instantly drawn to the fireplace on the far wall. In a matter of seconds, his gaze had flicked from the flames, to the blood at Lily's throat, to the sand stuck to her cheek, and the bleeding wound on his forearm from where he had cut his shirt. Forgetting all about Gabriel, he moved towards the fireplace. His only thought was to get Lily to a Healer. Pulling the blood-soaked material from her throat, he used it to smear his own blood from his forearm, and then the sand from her face, onto it, before casting it into the flames.

"Nonne his verbes, rescissus est?" he muttered.

'Tempus perditum est, in venitur', he heard in reply. The fire immediately spread from the fireplace, engulfing the wall, burning the plaster and singeing the stone. The heat was intense, and James was forced to step away, despite the fact that he was overjoyed that it had worked. He dropped Lily down so he could hold her with only one arm, and retrieved the parchment from his pocket in order to be ready. "Harry!" he shouted with relief. As fast as it had begun, the fire rapidly diminished, leaving only a small flame burning in the grate. The room fell eerily silent; the char grilled walls being the only sign of anything unusual having come to pass. "No..." he breathed, his fist tightening around the parchment, his knuckles turning white.

"James?" Lily murmured, regaining consciousness in his arms. "Did...it work?"

"No, sweetheart," he whispered. "We're not going back just yet."

"You're damned right," came a deep voice from behind them. The sound of whirring metal destroyed the silence. Turning slowly, the Potters faced Gabriel. He was aiming his circular weapons, the same he had used to butcher the towering creature only moments ago, at James' throat.

"Any last words, warlock?"