AN: Please approach this chapter with care. I'm sort of nervous publishing it, so I'll be frank and brief in my explanation. This is not a happy chapter. If you have a favorite stuffed animal or box of chocolate from the holidays, now is the time to grab them.
Potion Number 48
"Come in Mr. Potter, Someone will be with you shortly," a chipper blonde with hair the same volume as Hagrid's beard announced as she opened the door for James before leaving him alone in the small room. After two months at the training center, he was surprised she was so bubbly and excited. She must be new; I give her a week before she's as chipper as a corpse or transferred to St. Mungo's...
The room was like all other rooms they used in the Training Center. It was square with white washed walls and artificial sunlight coming from a fake window, as parts of the Academy were completely underground. There was also a portrait hanging on one wall that changed depending on the mood of the instructor, and a large mirror opposite of the painting that ran the length of the room. The room was otherwise bare except for a pensive, two chairs and a writing desk that sat under the emotionally tired portrait.
A few of the other potential recruits said the building was disguised as an old Muggle Asylum, and for that reason all the rooms were uniform copies of each other. Others said that was so Muggles wouldn't be alarmed if they heard the occasional scream of insanity coming from a student who finally cracked. He could believe that, he had only been there two months, but in many ways he felt he had aged years.
There had been thirty others who had joined him that first day. By the end of the first week, twenty three remained. He had almost contacted Sirius but knew that wouldn't be any use, it was either succeed or quit and he had come too far to give up. That, and he was sure that if he did leave, Lily would kill him in his sleep or run off with a man who could follow through and accomplish something.
So he had kept marching on. He learned more defensive hexes and jinxes in the first two weeks than in all his years at Hogwarts. The kid who slept in the bunk next to him had been sent to infirmary after James used an Indian Burn Hex mixed with Vera's signature Siam Slit jinx that left him with an inflamed, cut on his arm. Despite the half day his roommate spent in the infirmary, his instructor had been rather impressed. James was making himself known amongst the instructors and he knew they were paying attention.
Hexes, Jinxes, Offensive and Defensive tactics on dealing with Dark Wizards, learning who the Dark Wizards actually were became the extra curricular activities of all recruits, in addition to learning what happened to those who had fallen when combating those Dark Wizards. Then there was the life expectancy, a fellow from York liked to remind them all that the Aurors only used to recruit fifteen students initially, but that they had to double the number of students after Death Eaters had killed so many Auror's in 1975 that they were at threat of all being killed off. When Mr. Doom-and-Gloom seemed to be on a roll, his friend who he had hexed would follow his lead and gripe about their low salary that Ministry Officials had just protected. It was around this time James would return to his bed, pull the coverings and pull out the small stack of letters he had from his parents, mates, and Lily.
At first, the letters had been steady. Her explaining how the Potions institute ran, and her new assignment set up by Dumbledore that had her working on "Operation Alpha Lupa" but that she'd have to explain the details for him when they saw each other at Christmas. She wrote about her internship, her latest dinner with Remus and Sirius, baby-sitting with Vera, the further he'd been in the Academy, the shorter, more brisk her letters got. "I feel like I'm writing to my journal James, or a wall, and I know charms that will make the walls talk back to me," or more recently "Sirius and Remus are considering charming a stuffed Stag to resemble you they miss you so. I'd keep telling them that's a silly idea but it's starting to sound brilliant with each suggestion."
But even if he could find the time and clear mind to sit down and write her a letter, he doubted she would want to know what he had to say when every day was the same as the previous: Long, violent, and a threat to his life expectancy. There was only so many ways for him to write "I'm Safe", "Having a great time," and "I love you my dearest Lily," before the words became empty. There were some nights he was glad Sirius wasn't there with him to witness his habit of pulling out a picture of Lily he had tucked under his mattress, but he looked to that blushing red head to keep him sane as lessons turned his world dark.
He felt like a teenage girl, or at least how he imagined teenage girls would act, but he needed that picture. Of Lily walking the streets of Godric's Hollow in that dress, her carefree smile as she twirled in around a dry fountain, rolling her eyes and waving him to come to her. That was his motivation. He was here, learning to fight dark wizards for her. He'd always fight the Darkness; put his life on the line, so long as that meant she would make it out clear and all right; happy, healthy and most importantly unscathed from the scars of dark magic.
"Potter," a more sober man who had obviously spent several years in the Academy judging by his lifeless expressions read from his clip board as he entered the room than the blonde who had left him there holding a leather case. "My name is Richardson, and I'll be your Specialist today."
"Mind telling me what's exactly going on today?" James asked. When he and the others had arrived to their room that morning they had each been taken to one of these rooms with out an explanation other than "Endurance Training." For the slightest moment, he thought they were going to do exercises but the tell tale signs of an old man's belly was evident from Richardson's robes.
"We're testing your ability to resist the Imperious Curse today," Richardson said, looking at James file. Setting the case down on the desk he opened it to pull out a silver potion in a vile still corked. "You've done well under the curse on a minimal level of exertion, ridiculous commands like jump and bark…"
"So we're upping the threat? More physical harm?" He asked, wondering if he was going to be forced to give himself a bloody nose or black eye. He wouldn't mind an occasional battle scar; it'd at the very least make an interesting note home to Sirius who was convinced he was becoming a pansy.
"Something like that," Richardson smirked a dangerous smirk. "Next month you'll hit the half way point of the training program; this is simply just part of the next step. To be an Auror, we need to see you're resistant to the Imperious curse for—obvious reasons. In a way, this test is how we thin out the heard of recruits even further."
"So they can't manipulate me like they did Weyland?" James looked up dubiously from his chair, thinking of the Auror who had gone rouge recently. The Ministry had him locked in Azkaban and was putting a case together where he had been the one who murdered Jesse Logan and his wife in March. It was only a matter of time, James knew, before Barty Crouch had the Dementors kiss one of the strongest Aurors who had come out of the academy, only to be compromised by an unforgiveable. "Was this part of the training exercises three years ago?"
"Sometimes adaptions must be made to survive regrettable circumstances," the man grumbled, uncorking the vile, his face twisted bitterly. "We're going to administer Potion Number 48 you'll retain consciousness, will stay in this room, but you may believe your elsewhere, Hogwarts, back home, childhood town, places and people you're familiar with will be in your surroundings. Do you understand?"
"You're drugging me to see what makes me crack," James said matter-of-factly, rolling up his sleeves and leaning back into the chair. "And how exactly will you guys know what I'm experiencing? Wouldn't it be easier to pull a Boggart out of the storage closet?"
A sickening smile crept on his Specialist's face. "Boggarts can only show fears, we can't manipulate them. That's the beauty of Potion Number 48. It was explicitly designed for Auror candidates. You'll be given the Potion, and we draw a blood sample. Because of the mechanics of the potion once it coincides with your blood stream we can take that sample and inject into a piece of technology that allows us to see what you see and the test can continue from there."
James could then see the glistening shine of the silver needle in the leather case. "Little bit medieval don't you think? Brutish…"
"The potion if you will Mr. Potter," the Specialist interrupted as he forced the silver vile into James hand. He could only imagine the words Sirius would use to describe him as he chocked back the potion, an icy feeling rushing down his throat and spreading throughout him. "You know it wouldn't hurt you lot to warm that up a bit before you give that out...I've been in warmer blizzards…bloody hell! You could warn a man before you do that," James swore looking at the spot on his arm that Specialist Richardson had chosen to take his blood sample.
Then the room began to get fuzzy, and James could feel his knees give way. "You best sit down Mr. Potter, side effects include, but are not limited to, drowsiness, nausea, motion sickness and distress."
James could see the chair in the room but felt like his legs had become iron as he strived to move forward to the chair. Finally he felt the Specialist drag him over and harshly throw him into the chair. Brute's the most violent Specialist I've ever met, he thought. Drowsiness wore down on him like thick blankets keeping him captive to the chair. He was almost claimed my unconsciousness when he heard the quiet whisper of "Imperio."
((*))
When James came to, nothing had changed about his circumstances. He was still laying limply in the chair, in a white room with its poor wall hangings. He had hoped in those minor seconds before the drowsiness carried him away that he would wake up else where: perhaps in his boyhood home, or if at worse, Remus and Sirius' flat in London. Perhaps he had thought he'd wake in Lily's apartment, on that small, cramped couch they kept with a knitted blanket tucked under his chin...but obviously...
"Nice set up you have here, Prongs," a voice in the chair opposite of him chuckled, "Nice to see the Ministry is going out of their way spending galleons to train you lot up. Think they could have spared the paintings?"
"Padfoot?" James smiled, as his vision came through. Sure enough, there sat Sirius, idly in the chair as thought it was his throne, a smug look on his face "What the devil are you doing here?"
"They called me in here, said they needed to observe you and your interactions with others," Sirius said straightening up in the chair. "Supposedly there was a report or two that you've been incorporative with your fellow-what's it you're called?" he crossed his legs and lifted his chin up and tapping it with his thumb. "Moony says you aren't Aurors yet, so he calls you trainees, which make me think you're trainers. Leave it to the ministry to turn you all into running shoes."
He's mocking you James, a little voice in his head whispered, he's been mocking you since you were accepted into the program. He's never wanted you to be in the ministry... that was partly true. But why was this voice so agitating. You should mock him. Show him this isn't a laughing matter.
But he didn't want to show Sirius anything, he was his mate...
"I've always fancied trainers, reliable, well broken in," James said leaning forward in his chair. "It's what they're trying to do to us. Break us in like trainers."
Sirius kept grinning. "It's good to see you Jamsie; it's been too boring without you. When are you busting out of this place?"
He isn't taking you seriously James, the voice muttered again, this time louder. Show him you aren't one to be mocked. Hex him.
"No," James said aloud, gripping the edge of his seat.
"What was it Prongs?" Sirius asked.
"No...I'm not busting out of here," James covered, his knuckles turning white as he clutched his chair, trying to fight back the urge within him to go after his friend. You're stronger than this; don't let this take over you. This is Sirius. . .
"Suit yourself," Sirius shrugged. "But you might want to get out sooner then later, after all, remember what your mum said, 'out of sight out of mind...'"
James didn't need to hear the voice telling him to react, he stunned Sirius shoulder, "Oi, I was just trying to warn you, damn it Prongs, my shoulder's numb."
"Sorry, It'll come back in a minute, it was just a stun," James bounced back, shaking Sirius shoulder as though it would take away the numbness. "They taught us that on the first week, supposed to help us numb attackers."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, "I warn you Stenson Diggory's coming after your dear love and I get the Death Eater treatment? Merlin, I'm not telling you if she runs off with some guy. I think I'd get more than a stunning."
It's just a trick James, he's trying to trick you into leaving. Lily wouldn't do that. Sirius wants you out. He's lonely. He wants you to be out there with him, not in here...Jinx Him. Take him down.
He couldn't do that. Sirius wouldn't do that.
Jinx him James, make him suffer. He wouldn't be taking this calmly if the roles were reversed and you were telling him about Vera...
"So if Diggory's after Lily, who's after Vera?" James asked, trying to ignore the voice in his head beckoning him to hex his mate. He noticed he must have hit a sore spot with Sirius as his eyes turned dark.
"Point made Prongs." He looked down at his watch, "Well, I have to jet. I'll see you later. Keep your head up, they'll send in another person soon," and before James could ask him a second question he was gone.
"That's all you've got?" James asked, looking at the portrait hanging on the wall where he was sure Aurors stood by observing. This wasn't that bad. The worse they could throw at him was Sirius picking on him for his career choice? He had been doing that for years. If the Imperious Curse was just something he could push back by having a stronger will than the caster, he would always be the victor. Potters, after all, were a stubborn lot. He could take on all the Death Eaters. Single handily. If the war would be decided by his strength and stubbornness, Voldemort would be vanquished and he and Lily would enjoy the longest and happiest of lives.
"All who's got?" a gentle voice asked from behind. He spun on a dime, his ears perking at her voice. He'd know that voice anywhere.
Lily.
She stood at the doorframe, wearing the white dress she had worn in Godric's Hollow that one special weekend they had before he left. Her hair was twisted back, as though she had recently made a potion. A smile spread wide across her face lighting her eyes as he strode to her side and wrapped his arms around her while her hands found their home behind his neck. "They let you in?" He kissed her head. "Who did you imperio my darling Head Girl?"
"You know me James, I can be a regular Death Eater if I need to be," she smiled as she rose on her tiptoes to kiss his lower lip. It was like adding a fresh log to their fire; it sent the familiar warmth rushing back to him. But it wasn't familiar completely, it was missing something. In many ways it was just an imitation. "I've missed you my darling Death Eater," he moaned, holding her tight, "You have no idea how much I've missed you. Even if Sirius says Stenson Diggory fancies you..."
"Since when did you start listening to Sirius when it comes to our relationship?" Lily asked, looking up at him with an arched eyebrow. "You and I know perfectly well that Sirius has been jealous of me stealing his boyfriend," she smirked impishly. "He doesn't take well to being your mistress. As for me, I'm alright if you have another woman so long as it's him."
"Imperio" a voice whispered, so quietly James wasn't sure he had heard it right. He couldn't have, just his mind playing tricks. But it was between their laughter intermingling, their bodies shaking together as they laughed; he heard the voice come back louder, deeper, more forcible than could feel his senses, his nerves, acknowledging the voice, as they would to his own will. It was like the voice was an extension of his thoughts, but he knew it couldn't be. Because never in James Potter's life would he or could he think the cruel words that seemed to be laced in hate. Laced in malice, dripping with deathly images.
Cause her pain...cause her pain...
But why? There was no reason for this, James thought in his heart. He would never hurt Lily. He could never hurt Lily. Even when she hated his existence, when they were apart up till their seventh year, he never dreamed of hurting her. He loved Lily, in many ways more than life itself. That may be over dramatic, he reasoned, but the thought of life without her was a nightmarish thought indeed, and he was being instructed to hurt her and cause her pain? No, he thought, never Lily. Not in this life. Not ever.
"Imperio" the voice whispered, and James felt his hand twitch. She was busy talking to him, speaking without noticing his lack of attention, his own personal struggle. Her hand gently holding his, she didn't notice the thin sheet of sweat developing on his forehead. Perhaps in the weeks of separation she had always assumed his hands were warm and clammy. He could hear the occasional Vera, St. Mungo's, Potions, I love you but the voice was growing stronger, still without reasoning. He didn't have an excuse or a reason to hurt her other than the fact the voice was telling him to do so.
Break her James, break her. You need to for your training. What if she was the enemy...But that logic didn't even make sense, she would never be the enemy...He could see himself as a Death Eater before Lily was, and he would die before that...
Whose to say she's not the enemy? Dumbledore wouldn't let her be privy to somethings—perhaps she can't be trusted, James noticed his hand flitch again as the pain rang in his head.
That's it, Hurt me before you make me hurt Lily Evans, he thought so hard it was more of a prayer than a defense to the voice in his head. You'll have to take me before…
Crucio! He heard the voice whisper, and he could feel what he thought was a knife twisting into his side and jerking gone. Knives were stabbing the power the voice had over his nerves and it felt like ever part of his body. His grip tightened around Lily's wrist, her eyes grew wide and she looked up interrupted from her tales from St. Mungo's, "James?" she started, her voice panicked and eyes wide. "James what's wrong?"
"Run Lil-ee," he said through gritted teeth as her face turned pale. The knife continued to twist along his front, as a second knife twisted along his spine. The pain will end when you hurt her James. Transfer the pain to her, or the pain will only get worse. You're not that strong. She wouldn't want you to hurt. The voice became soft and warm like a Butterbeer, she'd welcome the curse if it meant less pain for you, you know this...
"Imperio!" The voice spoke again, harshly, in response to being ignored and James felt as though he was growing puppet strings. Why wasn't Lily running, why hadn't she noticed this danger. Damn her, she was trying to help him! She was trying to force him back in the chair, some place where he wouldn't be able to hurt himself. "James?" her eyes seemed wider fear dancing along the emerald edge, "James pay attention! James, what's wrong, your eyes look red. You're scaring me! James—"
He could feel his teeth clench together and his breathing became quick and haggard. If blood could boil, it would explain the pain that was running through his limbs. "Lily get out, you need to get out," he broke out as a scream escaped from him. He rose from the chair unwillingly, clenching the armrest in hopes to gain some control. "I'll be alright damnit, but you have to get out of here. Run Lil-Lil-ee..."
"You're a bloody fool if you think I'm leaving you James Potter!" even through the agony he could hear the barely masked hysteria in her voice as she looked for ways to help him. "What can I do? How can I make it stop? Tell me and I'll do anything."
All it would take is one Cruciatus… the voice purred in his head. One Cruciatus and the pain would be gone. One Cruciatus and it'd all be done. James looked up at Lily, who was going through the desk drawers in a panicked haste cursing under her breath, thinking perhaps there was a potion that could sooth him, or better yet a soft object she could knock him out with without causing either of them too much trauma.
"Imperio!" The voice bellowed, his will had snapped. James could feel his will, his perseverance, his free self, broken and put in chains within his brain as he raised his wand to Lily's back. "Lily RUN!" He yelled out, one last warning. But she didn't, she couldn't, she just turned around with wide, frightened eyes as he muttered the word. That damn, unforgiveable word.
"Crucio!" He watched as her body reacted to the curse, the way she bent down to her knees, how her shoulders shook, her sharp cry out…"James!"
That's when the pain seemed to take over him. He collapsed into the chair as the final knife ravaged his body and a scream died in his throat.
((*))
James woke in a cold sweat. An elderly Healer held a compression at James' forehead and muttered to herself as she read over a clip board while Moody and Richardson looked over a clipboard of their own. "Held back four Auror's casting the Cruciatus curse on him," Moody smiled. "Only broke when we brought in Gildenstern and Rosencrantz. Brilliant, this is just what we need. I could use a squad of people as stubborn as Potter. Pity he broke...but five seasoned Aurors… that's more than most in the field could take."
It was a test, James thought to himself; trying to relax, calm the heartbeat that still carried on like a drum within him, staccato and uneven. She's safe, she didn't see you like that, she's fine, Lily's fine, you didn't hurt her.
But he felt as guilty as he would if he had actually hurt her. The peace that came from reality was short lived. Peace turned to guilt, then to anger, then to an inner self-hate that ravaged from within. Did you hear that scream when you cursed her? Did you hear the tint of betrayal and disbelief in her voice?
"Well Mr. Potter, you did extremely well," Moody said looking away from the clipboard. The two blue eyes staring down at the broken trainee with approval, "You did a really good job. Keep a stubborn will like that and you'll be ready for field training in no time. I'll have to keep an eye on you. Perhaps we could accelerate your training eh?"
James didn't know what happened to him, but it was like a reflex. His fist rose up and he hit his instructor in the eye before he strode to the door in fury only looking back as he felt his frame shake with rage.
"Don't ever force me to hurt her again," he muttered, his voice the same ice cold he had heard MacNair and Snape use with absolute seriousness. "I would kill anyone, including myself, before you make me hurt her like that again. Real or unreal."
He didn't turn around or acknowledge the commands from the other instructors. All he could hear was the string of obscenities that came from Moody that ended with "let him go blow of his steam" and his demand for a steak on his eye and a steak on his plate for lunch. James bolted down the hall past the other rooms; only stopping once he reached the courtyards of stone and artificial sunshine that had been created for the underground academy.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the small mirror and muttered "Sirius." He didn't know how long his actual test had taken, how long he was under the spell of the potion and unforgivable. Had it been minutes or hours of hell? How long had he been manipulated to hurting Lily?
"Sirius," he called again, hoping that his friend would be able to call him back. Give him the pep talk he needed, give him some of his spark, his courage back. Someone who could take the image burned into his mind of Lily suffering at his hand…
"Sirius you mangy mutt!" He snarled but nothing answered. Only the silent mirror reflecting the broken reflection of the broken, homesick Marauder as the tears finally escaped him.
AN: See, I told you it wasn't happy. I put in a couple references to some of my favorite books and plays but even then this chapter didn't sit well with me. Please let me know what you thought about this chapter and I promise to have the next chapter mildly happier than this (forget mild—It'll be down right comedic). TThis chapter had to come sooner rather than later; Remember when Hagrid picks Harry up in Book one? "Dark times they were, very dark" That's always stuck with me and I'm trying to write in a way to show those dark times. I feel like I abused James in an unforgiveable way in this chapter...
So, that being said, I hope you liked (or at least tolerated) this chapter. Again, things will lighten up next chapter. I can't write back to back depression. It gives me the munchies.
Please leave a review. If you have suggestions on how to write dark, I'll take them. If you also have suggestions on making nice with a character you've abused, I'd also like to hear those too. I'm going to try and make a goal to respond to your reviews better, I've been a failure as of late at that too.
Happy 2012-Kh.