dark streets and black eyes

Characters: James Potter, Marauders

Summary: Trusting is dangerous.

Prompts: "Never regret. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it's experi ence." Victoria Holt, Morbid, Delicious


"Heard you got a new client, James."

The black-haired man with the glasses looked up as his best friend sat down next to him. "Is there even anything that goes on in this town that you are not aware of, Sirius?" he asked tiredly.

The man with the wolfish grin smirked as he ordered his own beer. "The Evans heiress, well, you are not to envy with that case," he mused aloud. "The ques tion whether she killed her sister in a fit of jealous rage … she may say no but the evidence is against her … they were alone at home when it happened after all..."

"She says she did not do it and hired me to find the true killer," James shrugged. "It's good money in any case so there's no harm in it."

"There is a lot of harm in this!" Peter exclaimed.

Remus raised his left eyebrow. "Mind to explain?" he asked calmly. "Yes, I know. Messing with high society always carries a risk in itself, investigating something that happened in golden halls is even more dangerous. But James has done this – quite successfully even – before. So don't worry."

"He is walking on thin ice nonetheless, Remus," Peter said, a little less self-con fident and a little more shy now.

"It's James, Pete," Sirius said as he rolled his eyes. "James walks on thin ice all the time, don't you remember?"

The entire scandal surrounding the violent death of Petunia Evans had been annoying to the young Black who lived estranged from his rich upper class family in the little apartment he shared with James. Usually, Sirius did not particularly care about what which rich fool had done to get himself into trou ble but as he knew Lily and Petunia Evans from the time before he had been ignored by most members of the higher society, he was concerned. The Lily he had known, the Lily he had played with in the sandbox would never have killed anyone, much less her own sister. Petunia might have been exhausting and an noying at times but sweet Lily had always let it slip.

The chances that the pretty redhead had finally lost it and lashed out were slim to the point that Sirius considered them non-existent. No, there was a darker secret behind the death of Petunia Evans and from the current point, it seemed like James would find it out sooner or later – hopefully sooner because this en tire situation did not sit well with the young Black.


A few days and many investigations later, James met a rather nervous looking Remus in town, hastily smoking his cigarettes, one after the other. It was rare to see the photographer this much out of control because usually, he was the one who was always in charge of his feelings, more so than anyone else James happened to know.

"What happened?" the private investigator asked, pushing his hat back and closing the buttons of his trench coat before he lit his own cigarette.

"Sirius is dead."

"Are you kidding me, Lupin?"

"I wish I was," the shorter and paler man sighed. "I went to see him earlier to day, went to your place and opened up the door when he didn't open even though I heard the radio playing. Shit, I feel so morbid for saying but … they played his favourite song right when I found him."

James felt how his blood froze inside his veins. Sirius had not been supposed to die this young because the man had had dreams, goals and ambitions left to complete. Also, the Black man had been a rather skilled fighter and was no one who went down without one hell of a fight.

"In further morbid news, I can add that his killer will have heavy injuries. Sir ius died with his knife in his hand so yes, he died the way he would have wanted to – in the middle of a battle," Remus said, lifting his shaky hand to his mouth to continue his smoking. "It's still all screwed up … and don't tell Peter yet. Sirius was suspicious of him lately."

"Peter wouldn't have been able to kill Sirius. Peter wouldn't be able to kill any one."

"Peter wouldn't have been able to kill Sirius, true, but there is at least one per son in this town who might have an interest in seeing Sirius dead – shit, I still can't believe that he's gone."

"And … who would that be?" a dark, velvety voice asked. The woman who stepped out of the shadow was beautiful in a dangerous way. She wore a hat with a butterfly on it and her coat had hems of fur. In her left hand, an um brella was resting – but somehow, James doubted that this was simply an um brella … especially since it was not supposed to rain in the next few days.

"Ah, just like you knew where to find us, Andromeda," Remus said with a nod. "James, I am not sure whether you have been introduced to her before: Miss Andromeda Black, Sirius' favourite cousin."

"It was not like I had much competition for that place, Remus," the pretty woman said with a smirk that was not unlikely Sirius'. "So, is … is it true?"

The brown-haired man lowered his head before he nodded. "I am sorry, An dromeda, no good news from me today."

"Bellatrix will pay for this."

"From the state the study was in, she already did."

"My sister shall be my concern," the woman said. "Whether the price she paid for Sirius' murder was high enough or whether I shall make her pay an even higher price, this will be in my hands."

The Black Family with all its branches was more than just loosely affiliated to the mob and while Sirius had quit years ago, they had always been aware that the gun the man owned was more than an empty promise. If someone of their group was capable of serious fighting, it would have been Sirius.

But his cousin seemed to be more than capable of taking care of herself as well so it was likely that she would not pay for her revenge with her life.


The last curtain fell not too much later.

James Potter was a skilled private investigator but in spite of his profession, he trusted too lightly at times – especially when it came to his friends. As he saw Peter Pettigrew at the harbour the night he had finally found proof that it had been not Lily Evans who had killed Petunia Evans – but someone else, someone he had never believed to be capable of such a thing – Narcissa Black.

"James."

The voice was strangely unfamiliar as the investigator turned his head – only to see the gun that used to belong Sirius, the gun the police had not found when they had searched the site of the crime, in the shaky hands of Peter Pettigrew.

"So, it was you who betrayed us?" James asked with a dull voice. He was unarmed and he might be fast but not fast enough to escape a bullet.

"You left me no choice. I told you to leave the Evans-case alone, didn't I? You did not listen. That put my boss into quite a predicament. I thought you would leave it alone after Sirius had been killed but no, you had to finish this."

"Sirius would never have wanted me to quit because of him."

"You and him, you will see each other again."

"Because you are going to shot me with his gun, I see."

"Miss Black, my boss, has a feeling for metaphors. This gun was Sirius' favourite, right? He had gotten it from his grandfather or something like that, huh? Well, and since you brought death to Sirius, Sirius will bring death to you."

"Strangely sappy for the boss of a mob."

"Those were her dying words, not even she would make sense there."

"So, if the woman was killed, why are you still following her orders, Pete?"

"Because, you see, there is no point in not doing it just because she is dead, you see? There are others, others who know of this as well. I have to do this – to survive."

"So you rat out your friends to survive?"

"They say, the taste of revenge is delicious. I guess I agree with them. Goodnight, James."

And a single gunshot ended the life of the Private Investigator James Potter.


"Never regret, Remus Lupin," Andromeda Black said as she met the man by the docks a few minutes later. "If ends good, it's wonderful. If ends bad, it's experience."

"That experience, Andromeda, got two of my best friends killed," he said, bitterly and with eyes full of sadness and resentment as they walked away from the scene.

"The experience also got my cousin who was like a brother to me killed," she replied calmly as she unsheathed the bloodied blade that had been hidden in her umbrella. "And no matter how much I hated her, it is still bitter that I killed Bellatrix."

"You had a choice."

"No, not in that matter. She killed Sirius who was my dearest friend. I could not let her get away with it … even though she would have died from her wounds anyway very soon. In a way, I was just helping her to get it done."

"You know that they will be calling you before the sun is up again, yes?"

"I am the Black Widow, a murderer who has always been one and will always be one – so why should I bother with the consequences. Let's drop Potter's evidence that Evans did not kill her sister at the next police station and then..."

"Yes, what will you do afterwards?"

"I will leave town. I stayed because of Sirius. So I will also leave because of them."

And so, that fateful day, the Black Widow and the Lone Wolf left the town.


AN: The outcome was probably not that much of a surprise but eh, I have never written something like this before. No happyend for anyone.