A/N: I suck, I know. Three chapters in two years. Who does that? Um... yeah. :/ I was inspired by the review and favorite story notices that were entering my inbox. Nothing inspires me to write more than knowing that readers like my work enough to fave or review it. You all rock. :)
ENJOY!
October 1976
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"Brian? Can I talk to you for a second?"
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Dorcas had wanted to practice some Quidditch, and Lily had needed some air, so they ended up just staring at the sky together. "Lily, can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
"I'm glad you told Brian Creevy you couldn't go out with him," she says quietly – a strange thing, for Dorcas.
After a few seconds of silence: "I'm glad you told me about Potter."
"I really meant what I said."
You belong together. "I know." And some part of her thinks that she has always known that, too.
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It is a Hogsmeade weekend, and Lily Evans is sitting alone in the Common Room, curled up on the couch and staring at the fire.
The door opens and closes, and James Potter sinks down in the couch across from her. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, and he looks absolutely shell-shocked. Oh, the new James Potter is certainly difficult to read, but it is the minutest shifts in his facial muscles that mean things, and the tilt of his eyebrows tells her everything she needs to know. She doesn't know when she became so acutely aware of him, but she thinks that maybe, in some way, she has always been mindful of James Potter.
"You turned Brian Creevy down," he says quietly.
"I did."
He stays quiet, and almost brooding.
"It had nothing to do with what you said," she lies. Liar! A voice in her head screams. It had everything to do with what he said, and what Dorcas said, and what Alice said; it had everything to do with what she felt when she was with him. James Potter got under her skin like no one else. He made her so angry, so embarrassed, so full of hatred, she thought she would scream. Before, she did. James Potter, more than any person she had ever known, made her feel alive. It had everything to do with the fact that things had changed, and she was realizing that James Potter was so much more to her than she had ever thought possible.
But because she is scared, and ridiculously human, she lies.
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They are seated in the library.
Dorcas stares at Lily. Then she stares at Alice. Then she looks at the next table, where Sirius is talking urgently with Remus and Peter, and James is staring out a window.
"I can't handle this."
Lily and Alice look up.
"What did you do to James?"
"I didn't do anything to Potter."
Dorcas groans in frustration. "We had Quidditch practice today. You know what James did? He told Sirius to captain the squad, because he wasn't feeling up to it. When is James not up to captaining the squad? James Potter loves Quidditch, and is the best Quidditch Captain we have ever had," she says vehemently. "I'll ask you again: what did you do to him?"
The conversation halts when James stands up abruptly to leave the Library. Much to the consternation of many, Lily Evans stands up and follows him.
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He stops in a long, empty corridor. "What do you want, Evans?"
"Do you love me?" The words echo in the corridor, over and over again. They slip out of her mouth without her thinking about them, and she thinks that this is the question that has been on her mind for ages: does James Potter truly love her? Does he really? Or is it a joke, a game, a fantastically well-thought out ploy to drive Lily Evans mad? Now that the words are out, she doesn't regret them. She wants to know the answer. Maybe this is one of the most important questions she will ever ask anybody. James Potter and she have had a relationship that she could never truly understand. Mostly because she never understood James Potter. She needs to know; she needs to hear it, because she thinks – no, she knows – she knows the answer, but she needs to hear it from him. It's written on every single line of his face when he looks at her, it's practically screamed by his actions, and hers, and everyone around them when they look at each other. But she wants to hear him say it.
He turns around to stare at her. Even if she can read him so well, she cannot read this face at all. And then suddenly, she can. This face is tired, horribly tired. In a gentle tone, like he knows this news will change (break) her, he says: "I tried not to. But you can't really tell yourself who to fall in love with, can you?"
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That night, alone the safety of her bedroom, Lily Evans thinks.
She thinks about who she is, and what she is. She thinks about what she used to be, what she is, and what made her into what she was. She thinks about relationships and people and the eccentricities of life. And she thinks about James Potter, and what he was and is to her.
She realizes, almost sadly, that she loves him. She is in love with James Potter.
She loves him because he made her who she was, and made her life what it was, and shaped her in such a way that she was ruined for anyone else. And she loves him simply because she does, because she always has and she knows she always will.
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Present Day
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1:31:am.13:05:1979
Paris
"Meeting."
Lily Evans rolls out of bed.
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1:34:am.13:05:1979
Paris Headquarters
A set of doors opened to reveal nine people sitting around a table.
Lily and Gavinsky settle into their seats on either side of Sara.
"We have received the intelligence reports," Sara says gravely, eyes skimming over all ten members.
The atmosphere in the room plummets.
"They are planning simultaneous attacks at the end of the week, during the Potter Wedding."
Lily curses mentally. Of course attacks must be planned; it was the perfect time to pull it off. Everyone would be expecting Death Eaters to attack the wedding, so security would be at its maximum, and other areas would not be guarded as heavily as normal. Something didn't add up, though: why hadn't she found out? Her eyebrows furrow. If the Death Eaters had been planning attacks, she would have been informed. Before she can speak, Gavinsky does.
"But that doesn't make sense. Evans and I haven't been informed," Gavinsky says, his voice thick with tension.
"Maybe you're out of the loop," Keira Jansen tosses in. "I have it first hand from Crabbe."
Assents from three others follow, each of them tossing in the name of their informant.
Sara looks around the room severely. "We cannot afford to be mistaken about this. Lily, Mark – are you certain you never heard anything?"
"I checked in two days ago," Lily says softly. "There was nothing."
"This is ridiculous: four of us have proof," Sandy Olympus protests.
Penelope pops her gum. "Sounds like four of you have been duped," she shrugs cavalierly.
Lily feels the wheels begin turning in her head. "Who informed you?"
"Crabbe, Goyle, McCluskey and Greyback."
"None of them are in the Dark Lord's inner circle," Lily says slowly. She stares at her comrades. "Is it possible that any of you have been found out?"
There is a long silence.
Suddenly, Keira closes her eyes. "Oh, my God," she whispers. "Yes. Shit. I think Goyle might have seen me curse Malfoy when we were in the attack last month. But I had a conversation with him right after, and he was perfectly normal. Plus, I thought he was too idiotic to ever notice and do anything about it."
Lily has to grip the table hard to keep from screaming at Keira that her 'I thought' was going to get them all killed.
"Keira, you and Sandy are partners: so if you were found out we assume Sandy was implicated in this, too; and the Knotts are very close with the Casket brothers, so Ren and Scott were found out that way, too." Sara is calculating. "I want you four to pull out of Operation C completely, and work in the background as a support group."
"This is going to be a lot harder: they'll be more conscientious now," Penelope observes.
Sara closes her eyes. "Evans, Gavinsky, Turner, Plank, Piandre, Clayton: I want you on Operation C full time. I do not want any of them to have any reason to doubt you. Do you understand?"
"Sara, I can't: I have the special assignment for Moody."
"After the Wedding, I want you on this full time, Evans. Gavinsky, make excuses for your wife. The Potter Wedding is in three days," she says softly. "Plenty of lives are in danger. We need that data. Go."
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1:59:am.13:05:1979
Paris
Lily, Gavinsky and Penelope apparate back to Lily's apartment, after Penelope makes plans to rendezvous with her partner, Piandre, later.
Lily collapses on a chair and stares at her hands.
Penelope immediately kicks off her shoes before Indian sitting on the Dining Room table. "I hate her."
Lily shoots her friend a look.
"I don't care if I'm being juvenile," Penelope whines. "Because of Keira's carelessness, the entire Operation is in danger."
"Surely not the entire operation," Lily protests.
"Penelope's right," Gavinsky says tersely. "The Ministry depends on us to retrieve the information they need, even if they don't know it. Because of Jansen's slip with Crabbe, everyone is going to be even more suspicious." He shakes his head. "It's going to be a lot harder to relay information now."
Lily sighs, pressing her fingers into her temples. She feels a headache coming on. "There's nothing we can do about it. Keira made a mistake. It was a stupid mistake, one that could very well cost us our lives. But we knew what we were getting into when we were recruited. Death isn't the worst thing that could happen."
They all stay quiet for a while.
"Lily, are you okay?" Penelope whispers. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Sensing that maybe Penelope should handle this alone for a while, Gavinsky leaves the room, muttering, "I'll get the tequila."
"No, and not really."
Penelope leans down to hug her friend, pressing her lips against her cheek. "I'm so sorry."
"I just – Pearson was my friend, you know? We weren't that close, but we were friends. And James…" she swallows. "Well, he's James Potter," she says helplessly.
Penelope pulls back and studies her face carefully, wiping the tears that have fallen. She laughs sadly. "Evans, why did you enter this business? You don't belong here any more than Gavinsky belongs in a candy shop. You had too much to live for."
But Lily doesn't answer, and she doesn't need to answer: duty. Duty to the cause that held them all bound, that made them all willing to sacrifice their lives if it meant those they loved would live in a better (safer) world. Although for some of them, accepting their recruitment invitation had been something they had done because they had had nothing else. "I thought maybe I could get over him," she whispers. "I thought that I could make an exchange: my life for his happiness."
Gavinsky reemerges with three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. He sets them on the table and starts to pour. Lily watches the liquid splash on the table, and finds that she doesn't really care.
"Can we please not talk about it?"
"Not talking about it doesn't make the problem disappear, Lil," Penelope says gently.
"If I don't think about it, it doesn't hurt so much," Lily whispers, closing her eyes.
There is another long silence.
"We are all so fucked up," Gavinsky sighs, handing them each a shot of tequila.
"Amen," Penelope and Lily say, lifting their shot glasses into the air with a clink.
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6:01:am:13:05:1979
Ministry of Magic, London
Not wanting to attract attention, Lily moves through the corridors as Anna Evans quickly. Anna is a common entity in the Ministry. Her presence will not be questioned. Jane Wickham's will. She enters Moody's office, before changing her appearance to someone utterly unrecognizable.
"Reporting for duty, sir," Jane Wickham says.
Alastor Moody's eyes flicker. "Evans, who are you masquerading around as now?"
"Jane Wickham, sir."
He rolls his eyes, and the sight of two eyes rolling in different directions is so distracting Lily almost chuckles. "Right, then. Port key. I want the entire Church warded and charmed so much that if a Death Eater even approaches the place, they'll spontaneously combust," he says gruffly.
"Spontaneously combust; got that, sir," Lily says.
If Alastor Moody had been a different man, he would have smiled. "Dismissed."
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6:03:am.13:05:1979
London
"Mr. Potter, we have the information you requested on Anna Evans."
"Go ahead."
"The only records found are unlimited shopping accounts in certain shops in London. They aren't only hers, though; they are joint accounts among ten people. The account itself traces back to The Paris National Bank."
"What has been bought?"
There is a small pause. "It is a variety of things, Mr. Potter. I could owl the list over to you now."
"Just read it," he says with a touch of impatience.
"Underwear, figgs, owls, salamanders, eyeballs of newts, thirteen broomsticks, four cloaks, plenty cauldrons – shall I go on?"
"Is there anything particularly unusual?"
"Well, they've bought ten wands. The wands are active, sir: they are being used, and often, but the people who are using them…"
"What is it?"
"Mr. Potter, the people who are using them don't exist in Ministry Records."
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6:04:am.13:05:1979
Waverly Cathedral, London
Before Jane Wickham existed, and before Anna Evans existed, and before two other people existed, there was a girl who loved weddings. It is this girl she tries to channel now.
It is a futile effort. You can pretend the memories aren't there, but you can't erase memories. Or feelings. God, she hates feelings. She tries to summon anger, or indignation towards the soon-to-be wed couple, but she can't. All she feels is an overwhelming sense of loss that threatens to make her melt down and cry.
She shakes her head and stares at the Church.
This is a beautiful Church.
She would have liked to get married here.
Lily Evans bares her teeth and shakes her head. "Forget them," she instructs. "Forget them." The tactical side of her looks at the job before her logically.
She frowns.
She is not at all happy with the security of this Church. It is a nightmare. Eleven entrances, an isolated upper floor, a bell tower, too many hidden alcoves and inadequate escape routes made it almost impossible to guarantee the wedding guests' safety. If she had be asked, she would have suggested an underground wedding, in a cement box reinforced with steel, with port keys being the only way to enter. Of course, she doubts such a place even existed, and had she found one, the couple's high society family would have snubbed it in a second.
She sighs and rubs her face wearily, before starting the wards with the very basics.
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6:05:am.13:05:1979
London
"They don't exist in Ministry Records."
"Exactly, Mr. Potter." The detective sounds pleased that he has caught on so quickly. "There are other records of them: in newspapers, sir, bank statements, and whatnot. But no records whatsoever in the Ministry database."
"How is that possible? Unless someone not only removed the records, but is also actively erasing anything that comes in…"
Actively erasing anything that comes in.
"Is Anna Evans' name listed as a user of any of the wands?"
"No."
"I need all the information you have collected. Owl them to my office."
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7:00:am.13:05:1979
Ministry of Magic, London
There was a puzzle piece here that didn't fit in yet, but once it did, everything would fall into place.
He wracks his brains, staring at the pieces of paper scattered all over his table.
Someone from the Ministry was actively hiding records of ten people. It wasn't impossible to search for them, of course, but it made it incredibly difficult work. The database was the Ministry's main way of tracking the activities of all the people in the Wizarding World. Removing someone's file was tantamount to making them vanish. Now: why would people want to vanish? He stares at the list of names.
All of the people in this list are Pureblood, and known Voldemort supporters. He knows he should probably turn this list in to the Ministry: but everything here reeks of deception.
He has a list of ten known Voldemort supporters, who are using wands bought by a group of ten different people who have absolutely no records whatsoever, except those that link them to their joint account. He runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated.
And so, he does what he always does when he needs help.
Three minutes later, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are in his office. Three heads are better than one.
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7:08:am.13:05:1979
Ministry of Magic, London
"I've got it," Remus Lupin says quietly. "Look at the list of wand users: they're all foreign. Hale, Knott and Charleston are American. Casket and Bongers are German; Pria and Chevalier are French. They haven't been in Voldemort's circles for long; in fact, at most, their Pureblood families only go back three or four generations."
Sirius and James wait for him to continue.
"It wouldn't be preposterous, then, to conclude that they're fakes."
"Aliases," James says thoughtfully. "Ten people with no records pretending to be ten people whose records have been stolen from the Ministry Database."
A slow smile makes its way across Sirius' face. "It's so mad one might believe it has to be true."
"How do we verify, though?" Remus murmurs, staring at the list of names. There are ten names on each side of the paper. He knows, through gut instinct, that each name in column A matches up with a name in column B.
James grins ominously. "Looks like we're going to make a small trip to Paris National Bank."
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7:15:am.13:05:1979
Paris National Bank
"This is a very special account, monsieur," Simon Rousseau, the Bank Manager, apologizes. "I cannot simply tell you the information you request," and at this he holds up a finger, "even if you are on Ministry business."
Sirius has to press his lips together to avoid from chuckling, as his words came out sounding like every 's' was substituted with a 'z' and his 'r's rolled terribly.
"We need to find the address of any of the people on this list."
"I cannot give you that information, unless you have permission of the account holder, monsieur."
"Who's the account holder?" Remus questions, as James looks like he wants to rip the man's head off.
"That I can tell you," he smiles, showing all of his teeth, and looking suspiciously like a shark. "Her name is Sara Fournier. Shall I call her for you?"
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7:16:am.13:05:1979
French Headquarters
"Some Ministry hotshot is asking Simon about the account," Keira announces to the three other people in the room. As she speaks, she waves her wand, changing her height, eye shape and color and hair. "I'm going to Apparate there to see if I can settle it myself."
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7:28:am.13:05:1979
French Headquarters
The word 'shit' is the first thing that comes out of Keira Jansen's mouth as she appears in the room where her colleagues are sorting through large piles of paperwork.
Her partner, Sandy Olympus, looks up from his work. "What?"
"James Potter is the one making the inquiry," she hisses. "He has a list of all our aliases, and he seems to know they're fake."
Ren and Scott Chaplin, brothers in real life, also known as George and Graham Casket – although those aliases are now bust – stand up at the same time.
"We have to tell Sara."
They walk hurriedly down the hall and into their boss' office. Sara looks up, sees their faces and stands up. "What?"
"James Potter has a list of our aliases," Keira announces. "He has both aliases, and he knows that they're the same people, although he doesn't know who is who. He's with Simon now, inquiring after the joint account."
"Merde," Sara groans.
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7:31:am.13:05:1979
Paris National Bank
Sara and Keira appear in the bank foyer: Keira looking like Kelly, and Sara looking like Sara.
"I am so sorry," Simon says apologetically. "But the guards, once they saw it was James Potter, they let him in, Madame, even though I have insisted that no one is to be let it at nine, and certainly not without an appointment."
"If anyone is at fault, it is I, monsieur, for being so careless with receipts."
"Non, Madame, how could you have ensured that every single cashier in all the stores would not have handed over receipts at the wave of some money, no? It is impossible these days to ensure complete privacy."
Sara sighs. "Nevertheless, there will be dire consequences. Where are they?"
"In the Board Room; I assumed you would want privacy."
"Thank you, Simon."
She walks into the room and settles in a chair across the three men. She meets their eyes fleetingly. "Hello, gentlemen. My name is Sara Fournier, and this is my assistant, Kelly Jansen. How can I help you?"
Remus speaks first, because he is always the one who talks when with people of high authority. This probably has something to do with the mischievousness that most would call insolence that leaks from James' and Sirius' voices when provoked.
"I'm Remus Lupin, and these are my colleagues, James Potter and Sirius Black. We were working on something for the Ministry when we came across this account."
"I fail to see why you needed to inquire into this account, Mr. Lupin, as there has been nothing illegal going on."
James stares at Kelly Jansen. Kelly Jansen was someone who had no Ministry records – ever, and had no other paperwork except for those that linked her to this account. And yet here she was, in the flesh.
"Are you the person who pays for the purchases, Madame?" James says quietly, and suddenly.
Sara forces her eyes away from Remus Lupin to settle them on James Potter. He and Lily Evans are so similar: they have that exact same intensity and passion for living sparking in their eyes. She finds it almost difficult to meet his gaze. "Yes."
"Are you aware that, using this account, ten different people have bought wands?"
"Yes."
"So you're also aware, I'm sure, that the purchased wands are not being used by the people who purchased them, but by ten different people entirely? And that these ten people are known Voldemort supporters?"
Sara surveys him with soft brown eyes. The assessment lasts only for a few seconds, but James knows that Sara Fournier has probably read him better than most people would ever be able to in a lifetime. She gave him the same feeling he got when he was in the presence of Albus Dumbledore or Alastor Moody: that this was someone who had the wisdom of the ages behind her.
"I feel like I can trust you, Mr. Potter. So I will tell you this," she murmurs mildly, "sometimes, things are not at all what they seem. Now, I ask you to trust my judgment. It would do you and your friends well if you don't ask questions about this issue any longer."
"I will," James agrees easily, leaning forward to stare her straight in the eye, "if you tell me where Lily Evans is."
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7:40:am.13:05:1979
Waverly Cathedral, London
A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.
The phrase has been drilled into her head so often that sometimes, she murmurs it in her sleep. She stares at the Church, and flicks a pebble at it. The invisible barrier shimmers as it deflects the pebble.
The shield is dome shaped, spaced a good ten meters away from all sides of the Church. It repels anything or anyone that tries to pass through it, except, of course, those on a very select list. The shield is only the foundation, for any wizard or witch who can cast a particularly strong Patronus will be able to create a break in the shield, if only for seconds, and pass through.
To remedy that problem, she slashes her wand through the air, pauses for two beats before saying, "Salvarus frangere." It's frightening, the amount of material she has learned through being around people of high magical caliber. She conjures an image of Hogwarts days in her head and says, "Expecto Patronum." The doe bursts from her wand tip only to freeze in front of the shield. It shakes its head and looks back at her, as if to say, no can do. Satisfied with her work, the doe disappears.
"Fyrian Protegere," she whispers, waving her wand in a complicated series of twists. The shield glows a peculiar shade of bright orange for six seconds. Lily conjures a leaf and sends it floating towards the shield. It is burnt to a crisp. As the ashes swirl around for a few seconds, she almost smiles.
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7:49:am.13:05:1979
Paris National Bank
"Mr. Potter, you are not in the position to be making demands about Miss Evans' whereabouts," Sara says softly.
If James is frustrated, he doesn't show it. Instead, he smiles at her. "So you do know where Lily Evans is."
"Mr. Potter –"
"That's all we need to know. Thank you for your time."
"Mr. Potter, do I have your word that you are not to make further inquiries about this account?" Sara demands, standing up and gripping her wand.
James stares at her with twinkling hazel eyes. "No."
Kelly (Keira) looks appropriately disgruntled at such a show of disrespect and takes her wand. "Look here," she begins.
"I think we're done here, then," James says pleasantly, standing up. Remus and Sirius follow his example and shoot them cheeky grins.
"Mr. Potter," Kelly tries again, "if you don't sit down, I will have to use force to restrain you."
"Would you really?" James questions, his eyes twinkling, tilting his head to the side. "I'd like to see that."
Kelly, having had enough, shoots a body-binding curse at James Potter, but to her surprise, it bounces off him harmlessly.
James grins. "It was lovely to meet you, Madame Fournier. Miss Kelly Jansen. I do hope we see each other soon."
And then, before either of them can say a word, he vanishes, along with his two friends.
Keira and Sara stare at the spot where those disgruntling young gentlemen stood seconds ago.
Sara sighs, falls into her seat and drops her head into her hands.
"How did he reflect that curse?"
"Shields," Sara mumbles. "He put up a shield with wandless magic."
"You have to be extremely good to perform wandless magic," Keira says in a matter-of-fact tone.
Sara snorts. "Trust me, Keira: James Potter is extremely good."
"He should have been recruited," Keira says suddenly. "He's better than me, and I am no slouch."
"He almost was." It's said so quietly, she almost doesn't hear it.
Keira's interest is piqued. "Why wasn't he?"
"Too much joie de vivre," she laughs, before turning somber. "Just like his ex-girlfriend." This was such a mess. James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were unraveling loose ends, and it wouldn't be long before they found out the entire operation. It was time to tie loose ends, and burn all evidence of the team. They shouldn't have been careless.
"Just like who?" Keira considered herself to be a relatively smart girl: a bit too guided by instinct, maybe, and a tad careless and brash, but altogether an intelligent and talented wizard. She wouldn't have been recruited otherwise. But, even then, all of this history was confusing her.
"Lily Evans," Sara says tiredly, standing up. "Lily Evans was James Potter's ex-girlfriend."
Dundundun. The mystery unfolds! =)) So. What do you guys think?
