~*An Accident in Time*~

Written by: Cisselah

Life is divided up into the horrible and the miserable.

A Woody Allen Quote

Part IV - the Captive

5:30 pm ~ 29th July 1980 ~ Ministry of Magic

James Potter was shut in a small room the size of bathroom. In James Potter's room there was a bed and a broken chair. James Potter was allowed food three times a day and roughly five bathroom breaks – or so they had informed him. James Potter was not allowed to speak and James Potter was not allowed to insult the guards because James Potter was a fugitive in the Ministry's custody until Barty Crouch had said otherwise. This gave James Potter a lot of time to think.

Thinking was not good for James Potter's mental health.

As it was, James had come to three conclusions.

One: He was in 1980 and his mother was going to kill him when he got back.

Two: He was still very much an idiot to be lusting after his best friend.

Three: Barty Crouch did not have any sense of humor and deserved to be put in a cell in Azkaban together with three and a half hungry Dementors.

This, James decided, was going to become some kind of story parents told their children to keep them from picking up girls. It would probably go something like this:

Don't sleep with strange girls you pick up at bar, children, because one of them may be an insane genius that has cracked the riddle of traveling back in time for years. Said insane genius may or may not keep an altar of your dad in the closet, and you may or may not ruin said altar and then get sent back in time in the fight that occurs after you do so. You may or may not be wearing only your boxers and you may or may not get arrested by the Ministry for being a Death Eater. But that doesn't matter because you may be stuck in a room with no way of going back. Your father may be born the day after tomorrow and if you by some magical miracle – a man can hope after all - get home in one piece, your mother may or may not take care of that by killing you.

If all these things occur, children, then either you're really unlucky or your name is James Potter. Either way, you're dead. So remember, don't sleep with strange chicks from some random bar and if you against all warnings do, then don't insult the Head of the Auror Office's intelligence by calling him a headless chicken. It will only piss him off even more.

And that was how he was going to go down. Not as the awesome Quidditch player or the fearless Auror but the stupid klutz that got himself landed back in 1980 and arrested by some very gruff types that didn't like his jokes.

Freddy was going to have a field day with this shit.

Oh Circe, he missed his family. All of them, even Uncle Percy…

Okay, maybe not Uncle Percy, but everybody else. He missed the jokes and the sounds, the warmth and the feeling of never being alone. He even missed Grandma Weasley's hugs, and Merlin knows how many times he had pretended to be sick only to get out of them.

He really needed to stop thinking about it. It had been one day (technically it hadn't even been that, yet…) and he was already getting nostalgic. There was only one answer to why that was.,,

He was turning into a girl… All those chick flicks Selina and Maddy had forced him to watch must have had some permanent effect on his psyche. Why it was kicking in right now and not before James had no idea. Maybe it was set on a timer.

Well, there was one good thing that came out of this. It was only a matter of time before he grew boobs, and then he could finally amuse himself for some time.

James frowned.

What the hell am I thinking? Was he really this bored? The answer was yes, he was really this bored. There were no girls, no drinks, no cigarettes and no Selina. He couldn't even draw funny things on the wall because he had forgotten his wand at the apartment of that crazy witch that had called his mother a bitch.

That rhymed! How funny…

He needed to get out of this place.

If he hadn't fallen in love with Selina, this would never have happened. He could be sitting in the couch at Maddy's place and chilling out with Maddy and Freddy and Selina then. Would they even notice he was gone? Freddy would, but the question was if he thought that James was out in a bar or flirting with some random bird somewhere. It wouldn't exactly surprise him if they thought that.

He wondered if Selina was jealous, but the thought of her not being it made his chest hurt so much that he gave up.

Why the hell had he fallen for her anyway? Couldn't it have been someone else? Someone easy?

No… It couldn't have, James realized and scowled at the wall. This was probably his punishment for something he had done while he was drunk. But somehow it didn't feel like it. It felt like his heart was expanding in chest every time he saw her. It felt like someone had set him on fire with a lighter, like he had liquid lightning stuffed underneath his skin. Every time she talked he hung onto her words, every time she laughed he died and was reborn and every time she touched him he wanted more.

Every day with her was a day in heaven and a day closer to hell. The things he thought about her should earn him a ticket to hell many times over. It was easier to just ignore her and hope it would all go away. That he would wake up one day and she wouldn't be the first thing on his mind. To pretend that she never had been.

He could remember the moment he realized he loved her like it was yesterday. It had been in the early morning and they had crashed at Freddy's place after a wild night in some bar he couldn't even remember the name of. Maddy and Freddy had been fighting about the bed – Maddy had gotten it in the end and Freddy had been forced out on the couch - and Selina had collapsed in an old armchair.

She had been beautiful, he remembered, like an angel. Perhaps it was the fact that he was still a little drunk from whatever shit he had been drinking this time, but there was something about her that captured the light in the room and made her outshine everybody else… There was something about the way her dark hair turned wine red in the morning light that made him want to run his hands through it.

She was beautiful and he had told her so. She had laughed at him and that had made him happy. "You're still drunk," she had said and her smile had been just a little bit sad. "Go to bed, James. I'll wake you up in a few hours"

And that had been it. You're still drunk. Go to bed, James. I'll wake you up in a few hours. And it had hit him like a hammer in the face. Suddenly she wasn't little Selina Wood anymore, but the most beautiful girl on the planet. He had wanted to scoop her up in his arms, carry her home to his own bed and lay her down and do unspeakable things. He had wanted her in his arms, underneath him, in his sheets, screaming his name and suddenly he had been hit with the realization that his feelings for her wasn't brotherly, not anymore, and maybe they had never been.

You're still drunk, she had said and smiled. And he had been a goner.

As soon as the realization had hit him he had felt a burning shame. What was he doing, fantasizing about his best friend?

Well… Yes… And there wasn't exactly anything he could do about it. He felt dirty and disgusting. Selina was his best friend, his sister, his partner in crime. They had stolen apples from old McDougal, eaten ice cream in the oaktrees and set off Dungbombs underneath old Aunt Muriel's chair. This was Selina. Selina who couldn't drink a drop of alcohol without throwing up and who had never been kissed because she was much too busy playing Quidditch or getting in silly fights over who got the last sausage.

In that moment everything that had been had been erased as if some crazy god had hit the Stop button.

Click. Splat. Game over, mate.

Suddenly he couldn't be close to her without wanting to run his fingers underneath her shirt or through her hair. Suddenly the world was on fire and he was burning up and all he could think was; SelinaSelinaSelina.

Game over, mate.

Just like that.

No matter how many girls he were with or how many bottles of alcohol he drank he couldn't forget her. She was on his mind constantly. What would Selina think? Selina wouldn't like this. Selina would have understood. Selina this, Selina that. SelinaSelinaSelinaSelinaSelina…

This was the reason why thinking was bad for James's mental health. Because if he had to think any more about the gaping hole that was present in his chest he may have to hang himself and that would cause all sorts of trouble because James didn't really fancy hanging himself in his boxers.

Thinking sometimes made James Potter a little bit suicidal.

-w-

10:10 pm ~ 29th July 1980 ~ London

1980 was not a good year to be an Auror. Actually, no year was a good year to be an Auror, but 1980 was by far the worse one. There was a war going on and on one side they had the ones that hated the Aurors for doing something about it, and on the other side were the ones that hated the Aurors for not doing something. Either way, 1980 was not a good year to proudly declare yourself an Auror.

The only thing that was possibly worse than being an Auror was being a member of the Order of the Phoenix. If you happened to be both, then it was only a matter of time before someone decided to corner you in a dark alley.

Benjy Fenwick hated 1980.

Limping down the streets of the murkier part of London, Benjy sure was a sight. His robes were torn, his hair was a dark mess of dust and his left leg was grotesquely twisted beyond all recognition. He was a bloody mess (no pun intended) and he was quite sure that if anyone from the office saw him right now, they would either pity him or laugh.

Hastily casting a glance behind him to see if anyone was following, Benjy felt a moment of grief over his appearance. He had never been the model kind of handsome but a more mischievous, elfish kind. There had always been something boyish about Benjy that made him look younger than he really was and he liked to believe that his dimples and quick wit made up for his skinny frame and somewhat innocent appearance - the last thing was a big fat problem when he was out drinking. There were not many things more humiliating than the sexy bartender asking if he wanted a soda or a glass of milk. He had always thought about himself as funny and charming.

Judging by the amount of blood, he wasn't very charming right now.

Somewhere along the way Benjy had lost his wand (thank you Lestrange, thank you very much!) and his hands were cold and sticky of sweat. It was an Auror's nightmare; alone and unarmed while being chased by a group of dangerous fugitives that wanted to do unpleasant things with him because he busted a few of their friends.

Benjy really, really hated 1980.

He turned around a corner and limped on, ignoring the burning agony bursting from his mutilated leg at the slightest movement. There was no sign of pursuit and somehow that made Benjy even more worried. They should have been able to catch up without breaking a sweat but instead they let him run like some kind of twisted game of cat and mouse.

He was sweating now, feeling exhausted by the fighting and running. Sweat was dripping of his back and forehead, blinding him as he continued on.

Just a little bit longer. He thought and set course towards one of the bigger roads. I'll make it… I have to make it…

It wasn't a question of life and death anymore. Or well, it kind of was… But anyway, it wasn't just Benjy's life on the line anymore. He had to live so that he could tell his fellow Order members about the starling truth he had just learned. He had to tell Dumbledore before it was too late.

"Benjy! Benjy, darling, come out and play!" the sweet voice was so unsuspected that he almost tripped. He turned his head a little and glanced back.

Damn. It was that bitch again.

"You shouldn't be so persistent," he called back over his shoulder. "People may think that you're getting desperate" The unsteady voice made the insult lose a little power, but Benjy was proud of himself anyway. He turned around the corner and stopped abruptly.

Benjy Fenwick was the luckiest bastard on the planet.

The muggle girl whom he had given a small heart attack was about nineteen and not very pretty - not that it mattered anyway. She was surprisingly sober for a teenage girl walking home alone at night and her clothes were modest. A little disappointing really, because Benjy was pretty sure he was about to die.

"Listen," he told her and grabbed her shoulders to keep her from running away. She looked as panicked and Benjy wasn't sure if it depended on the urgency in his voice or the fact that a bloodied stranger had ambushed her and started shaking her shoulders. "If you want to live you need to do exactly as I say, okay? No questions, no arguments and no godforsaken screams"

The girl looked like she wanted to cry. She looked like the kind of girl that read a lot of books and spent a lot of time studying. A muggle version of a Ravenclaw.

If Benjy hadn't been so busy trying to stay alive, he would have been sorry to ruin her evening.

"What do you want with me? I don't have any money!" she was about to cry. Great… Benjy could hear the Death Eaters closing in. He really didn't have the time for this shit.

"I'm about to be brutally murdered by a bunch of idiots, so please spare me the suffering and don't cry. I need you to give someone a message from me. Can you do that?" She nodded and a few tears leaked from her eyes. They were very pretty, her eyes, now that he thought about it. Light brown and warm with little flecks of melted gold in them that…

Focus, Benjy.

"Go to Trafalgar Square. Walk down Northumberland Avenue until you get to Great Scotland Yard. There's a red phone box there. Press 3 five times. Don't stop and don't talk to anyone when you're down there. Find James Potter and tell him that Benjy Fenwick sent you. Tell him that the kid was telling the truth and that he's not a Death Eater. Tell him that time is running out," He cast one look at the girl's tearstained face. "You got it?"

"Northumberland Avenue and Great Scotland Yard. Red phone box. Press the number 3 five times. Don't talk, don't stop. Tell James Potter that Benjy Fenwick sent me. The kid was telling the truth. Time is running out," she told him in a voice that revealed that she was about to become somewhat hysterical.

"And he's not a Death Eater," There wasn't much time left.

"And he's not a Death Eater," the girl confirmed with a frantic nod. That would have to do, Benjy realized and made a face.

"Good. Remember, don't talk to anyone but James Potter, and for Merlin's sake; Shut up!" Before she could protest he grabbed her and dumped her in one of the containers. She gave up a startled cry that was muffled by the trash. He sincerely hoped she would shut up.

Grabbing one of the bags of garbage – there wasn't much else useful things there - Benjy limped forward and patiently waited for what would probably be the last – and most pathetic - fight of his life. He didn't have to wait long. A few seconds later a grizzly face showed up from behind the corner. Benjy didn't waste any time and slammed the garbage bag in the werewolf's face. The werewolf swore and staggered back.

For some reason the whole thing was ridiculously funny.

It wasn't so funny when the others caught up. Suddenly Benjy was on all four and breathing heavily as some unseen force was holding him down. Strangely, all he could think about was how dirty the ground was.

"That was fun, Fenwick. Why did you stop? Did you get a dead leg?" They laughed at him and Benjy felt the need to say something witty. He didn't, because it wouldn't help his cause the slightest.

There were four of them, not counting the werewolf, and Benjy recognized three of them. The one to the left was kind of a mystery, seeing as he didn't speak at all. The only reason Benjy recognized the first one was because he had arrested Rosier before. If he remembered correctly, Rosier had cursed one of the Senior Auror's so badly he had been in St. Mungos for a month and then escaped with a hidden portkey.

The next one was hard to miss as well. Severus Snape had not changed at all from their Hogwarts days and was still as greasy and nasty as always. He was looking at Benjy with cold, dark eyes that seemed like endless tunnels. A smirk was hanging out of the corner of his lips and his face was cruel underneath the mask.

Bellatrix Lestrange was also hard to miss since she hadn't bothered with a mask at all.

"Oh Benjy darling, how nice to bump into you this fine evening," she said with a mocking bow. The others laughed and Benjy realized that he was screwed.

The werewolf, who had now recovered from the trash-attack, growled and took a step towards Benjy, murder in his eyes. Immediately Lestrange jabbed her wand under his chin. Her eyes were malicious in the faint light.

"Back of, you filthy half-breed. This one is mine," she snarled.

The werewolf backed off.

"That sounds vaguely dirty when you say it like that, Bella," The words slipped out from Benjy's mouth without him noticing.

"Crucio," Bellatrix Lestrange said casually.

The pain that ran through his body was like no other pain before. He was on fire cut to pieces electrified broken. Everything was red and black and pain and nothing but pain. His thoughts were jumbled a mess without an end please make it end.

He wished he was dead. He wished they would kill him. He wished he had his wand so that he could kill himself. He wished the pain would go away he would do anything just if the pain went away. He was burning on fire in pieces shattered. Somewhere in the distance someone was screaming and it was him. He didn't care because the pain was too much and he needed it to stop he needed it to…

Suddenly it went away and he was left gasping for air on the sidewalk. To his surprise there were tears in his eyes. He had never thought about how nice it was to not be in pain. If he survived this he would treasure every day he went without pain.

They were laughing again.

"…screamed like pig!" Rosier mocked.

"Poor little baby cracked at first try. Do you want another one?" There was a glint in Lestrange eyes that told Benjy that she was enjoying this. Hurting him, making him scream.

"No… No, please…" he was begging and he hated himself for it. She ignored him and lifted her wand.

It could have been seconds or hours later when the pain subsided and the interrogation started. They wanted to know everything. Who was this James Potter double? Where had he come from? How had he sounded? Did Benjy think that he was telling the truth? He answered the questions with a mix of lies and truth.

The girl in the container was strangely quiet. Poor girl would probably have to go to therapy for decades after this.

"Do you want me to tell you the size of his boxers?" He tried to keep the snarky comments at a minimum, he really did. But there was something about Bellatrix Lestrange's face that made it impossible for Benjy to control himself. It just popped out of his mouth like a frog. The expressions on their faces almost made it worth the pain that followed.

After an eternity he lay on the cold stones and stared up at the night sky, still breathing hard from the spell.

"Do you think they have dogs in heaven?" he asked the woman that was standing over him. He couldn't exactly remember who she was, but he recalled that he hated her. "Otherwise you may have some problem getting past the gates. I wonder if they have silver or golden ones?"

"He's insane," the greasy haired git said. "You cracked him too much, Bella"

"Nonsense," the bitch said. "We'll just let him cool down a few hours and he'll be as good as new. He's still talking, isn't he?"

"We don't have an hour. The Aurors may come any minute!"

"You should meet my friend Shampoo. Maybe she's too pretty for you," Benjy informed him and was rewarded by a nasty kick to the ribs.

"Don't be silly, Severus. They haven't gotten here yet, have they?"

The sky was a wonderful color of orange. Benjy decided that he liked orange, it reminded him of puppies and rainbows. The pixies that swarmed in eyesight were pretty too, he decided, even if they happened to be hitting him in the head with umbrellas.

"We can't stay any longer. It's too much of a risk"

"If you're the dad and you're the mum than does this make me the baby?" he asked the bickering pair. They ignored him and Benjy decided that his feelings were hurt.

"We'll take him with us," the bitch declared.

One of the others disagreed. The bitch waved her wand. There was a small shuffle. Everybody agreed that they should take Benjy with them. Benjy decided that he wanted to have one of the funny-people-whose-names-he-couldn't-remember's masks.

The funny people whose names he couldn't remember decided that Benjy was becoming too annoying.

Benjy was stunned – no pun intended.


A/N: Poor, poor Benjy. Originally I was just introducing the poor guy so that I can stirr things up and fill some pages, but somehow he kind of weaseled his way into the plot. Also, I imagined the Cruciatius curse to be as I discribed it; Intense pain that makes the victim temporarily insane from exposure. I imagine that the insanity will pass after a certain amount of time unless the victim has been kept under the spell for too long, in which case he or she ends up like Alice and Frank Longbottom.

I hope you like it / A.C