Chapter 11 - It Begins...Again
"Well that was useless."
James groaned as he collapsed onto the sofa. He let his head fall back and his arms stretch out as he seriously contemplated never moving from that position ever again.
After lunch, during which Ginny had proven herself to be surprisingly skilled in the kitchen considering she usually spent more time roughing it up with her brothers than with her mum, they had indeed gone to visit Bathilda Bagshot to see if she had any idea who was in Potter Cottage before October 31. Unfortunately, not only had the visit been completely uninformative, as Bathilda had not been one of the frequent visitors to the house after the Fidelius had been put in place, the old witch also proved herself to be certifiably insane. Though Ginny had warned him that Bathilda had 'moments where she confuses the past and the present', nothing could have prepared James for the strange witch that had greeted them at the door.
The first impression he'd had was that she was old.
It wasn't that she looked old, although she certainly did. She was shrunken, bowed down with age; her eyes were thick with cataracts and sunken into folds of transparent skin, and her whole face was dotted with broken veins and liver spots.
It wasn't that she smelled old, although the odour of old age, of dust, of unwashed clothes and stale food, permeated the air as she unwound a moth-eaten black shawl, revealing a head of scant white hair through which the scalp showed clearly.
It wasn't that she acted old, although her movements certainly presented such an impression; her shuffling steps that barely lifted off the ground; the trembling in her fingers as James watched her reach for the knob through the transparent glass of the door, her knuckles blue and mottled; the way she squinted against the light and looked back and forth as though she couldn't really see her visitors, or perhaps wasn't certain that she had any at all and they were there.
It wasn't the way she looked, how she smelled or her actions that demonstrated her age. It was all of these things together that revealed the damage time and change had wrought on her body, one of a woman whose best years had long come and gone. She seemed to James like a woman whose happiest days were but distant memories slowly washing away like footprints in the sand, her aged frame wilting into nothingness.
It was the very image of someone who had nothing from their past to look back upon, nothing in the present to hold them there, and nothing in the future to lead them there. James wondered if that was what he would look like in sixty, seventy years as he drew near to the beckoning of endless sleep, alone in a big house with the curtains drawn and the hallways filled with shadow, with nothing but his own imagination for company. But then again, Wizards lived longer muggles so he would have much longer than seventy odd years. Besides Dumbledore resembled nothing like this pitiful creature in front of him.
Of course, looks were by no means a good judge of a person's intelligence or character, so James had tried to reserve his judgement until they had spoken. Then she had greeted him as James.
At first, James had though she had somehow been spying on them, or overheard their 'conversation' outside Potter Cottage. It was the only perceivable reason that came to mind for her knowing his false name. That notion was quickly dashed when she turned and congratulated 'Lily' on her pregnancy.
As their visit wore on through the afternoon it had quickly become apparent that Bathilda knew nothing of use. It seemed that Ginny's description of Bathilda as a good friend of the Potter's were correct, as she nattered on and on about the day to day trivialities, but never anything that would even suggest that anyone other than the Potters had every stayed at Potter Cottage...or at least, anyone who was able to bear children, apart from Lily Potter.
"Maybe we got it wrong, and the Potters were trying to have another baby," Ginny said, throwing herself down beside him. "Why does it matter so much, anyway? You said you were investigating Harry's crime, I don't see how something that happened more than fifteen years before it even took place would matter."
"Yes, well," James said, frowning, "something doesn't add up, and I've nowhere else to look, so I'm just trying to get an idea of where I stand by looking into anything that seems odd. An extra crib, for example."
"Well what else have you got?
"Not much, actually," admitted James reluctantly, thinking back and listing them with his fingers. "There's a man by the name of...Stegert, I think it was, who's been receiving payments from my, um, investigation subject's account, Dumbledore's been awarded Grimmauld Place for some rubbish reason and Potter Cottage has been offered up for auction."
"Potter Cottage has WHAT?" Ginny looked livid as she shot to her feet. "How could they? That house is positively ancient, it's been Potter property since, well since forever!"
"Relax Gin," James said, pulling on her shoulders to tug her back down onto the sofa. "It's been taken care of. The Goblins managed to buy it, and they agreed to sell it to me."
"They agreed to sell it to you?" asked Ginny, raising her eyebrows in surprise, "How did you wrangle that, then? You must be rich! Actually why did the Goblins even buy it in the first place?"
"That's not important right now," James replied hastily, trying to steer the conversation away from anything that would force him to come up with another excuse. "What is important is that I have the house, thankfully, as it allowed us to search it, and well, Grimmauld Place has been lost, but I don't think anyone really wants that old thing anyway."
"Although it would have been nice to have it," James said, thoughtfully, "seeing as it was the last thing Sirius gave m...my subject, anyway, but you can't have everything. I'm more interested in Stegert, since I have no idea who he is at all."
"You don't have any clues at all?" Ginny questioned, now copying James and letting her head fall back in frustration. "So that's a dead end then."
"Yeah," James said morosely, "the Goblins say he doesn't exist at all, from what they can see. They gave me a whole...actually." He suddenly sat up, an exited grin on his face. "The Goblins gave me a whole portfolio on him that I haven't read yet, we might be able to find something about him in there, even if he isn't going by his real name!"
It seemed the energy that had suddenly filled James' limbs was infectious, because Ginny's expression bore none of the lethargy that had filled it only seconds before.
"Really?" she asked, shaking her hair away from her face. James watched in shimmer in the golden afternoon light, entranced.
"James. James! JAMES!" It was only on Ginny's third call that James managed to shake himself back to the present. "I said can you Apparate us to wherever you're keeping the files? I'll help you sort through them."
"Oh. Erm, I sorta," Harry had ever felt more awkward. Of course, most grown up Wizards knew how to Apparate. Although it was true that some didn't bother with it, he felt somewhat less of a man, a wizard, being over the age of majority and still unable to access that form of magical travel. He imagined that it was similar to the ways muggles felt about driving. "I sorta never learnt how to Apparate."
"Pardon?" Ginny asked, turning her head to look at him in confusion. "Did you say that you couldn't Apparate? How did you get here then?"
"Side along," Harry replied, feeling a flush creep across his cheek. He was quite unused to feeling so inadequate, but then again, he'd never been in a situation where he'd should've been able do something and been unable to, either. The lone exception was during the second task of the Triwizard tournament and, fortunately, Dobby had been able to help him that time. Although Fred and George had known he couldn't Apparate, this was different, because this was Ginny, although he wasn't sure why that mattered.
"That's okay," said Ginny patting his arm, "You're one of those Wizard's who don't like Apparition, right? I never bothered to learn either, because I knew I was going to abandon magic as soon as I turned seventeen. We'll use the Floo Network, my fireplace is connected."
"How did you manage to do it without someone knowing who you were?" Harry asked, impressed.
"Oh, it's nothing, really," Ginny said, waving away his amazement. "Connecting fireplaces to the Network isn't monitored carefully, so I put it up with a false name. I think the Ministry have enough to be getting on with without having to check on a Witch or Wizard living in a largely muggle town just to see if they are who they say they are. Wait here."
Ginny darted out of the room, but James had barely enough time to stand up and grab his cloak from where he had hung it over the back of a chair before Ginny flew back into the room. "Let's go then!"
The two of them made their way down the street back to the edge of town. In the dwindling light, the damage done to Potter Cottage became even more pronounced as the darkness played on the shape and texture of the crumbling walls. The overgrown vegetation threw long, thin shadows across the small path on which James and Ginny hurried, pausing only to enter through the front door, before rushing to the fireplace.
Ginny refused to use magic, so it fell to Harry to light the fire. Thankfully, the fireplace, though no less scarred by the fight that had occurred metres away in the hallway, was undamaged enough to use. Ginny was no doubt expecting some sort of nonverbal magic, it was taught during the sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry knew theory, but James putting it into practise was another matter entirely. It took him two tries to do it, but if Ginny noticed, she didn't comment on it.
A second later, a magnificent fire was roaring in front of them, coloured green by the magical powder that Ginny had, for some reason, kept around the house (just so that she had a method of travel if she ever need one, apparently, but then again, Ginny probably at least suspected that the fireplace in Potter Cottage wasn't damaged).
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" James announced clearly. For one moment, his eyes met Ginny's, before a sudden jerk, not unlike that of a portkey, but felling as though there was a rope around his ankles instead, took him spinning away.
He was shooting vertically down a very long tunnel. The walls were mounted with hundreds upon hundreds of fireplaces, but unlike the other times he had been in the Floo, these were covered in flames that were so hot that they were blue. They formed a path of pure heat that caused sweat to break out over his body as he shot past them, going faster and faster. He didn't think he'd ever gone this fast before in the Network, or even on a broom, his speed and the speed of the spinning walls making it seem as though he was surrounded on all sides by white lines.
He had no idea what was happening, having never felt anything even remotely close in his years of using the Network. The ride was not smooth, but due to the speed at which he felt he was falling, he felt almost none of the customary jolts or jarring. In fact, the trip seemed endless, and he couldn't see the Twin's fireplace anywhere, mostly because he couldn't really see anything at all.
To calm himself down, he began counting slowly in his head, closing his eyes so that he could ignore the lines of white flames that surrounded him.
One.
What the bloody hell is going on?
Two.
Where the hell is the end of the Network?
Three.
...
Four
Still nothing. Seriously what the fuck?
Five.
...
Six.
Oh crap, Ginny! Is she stuck just like me?
...
Fifty-seven.
Am I going to burn alive in here, or just remain trapped forever?
...
Seventy.
Finally, when James counted the seventy-first second, he suddenly began to slow. It wasn't the slowing that signified the lack of moment, but rather a bone jarring sensation that, had he been anywhere else, would have convinced him he had just flown into a wall, or perhaps some piece of furniture. His limbs felt heavy, and he doubted they would have been as difficult to move had he been trying to swim in honey. Just as he had gone faster and faster, he felt himself get slower and slower.
If he stopped, he would die. He knew that, without knowing how.
James squeezed his eyes shut even further and tried to empty his find, focusing all of his attention to the swimming, sinking sensation that had captured his body.
I...need...to...go...f...FASTER!
It felt as though his very skin was being ripped from him. The agony was excruciating in its agony, and somewhere in the midst of the haze that had pervaded James' mind, he felt sensation transform into that of being burnt alive. The heat was so power, so all consuming, Harry couldn't understand why he wasn't melting.
And then –
SCRAAAAAAAAK!
With an ear splitting crack that was louder than any apparition that he had heard, James shot out of the Floo Network horizontally, head first. There was a moment where he simply hung, suspended in the air, before there was a jolt, his vision blacked and stars began to dance in the void. He tried to raise himself up onto the elbows, but when he tried to move his arm, something – it felt like a piece of wood – was in the way.
Slowly, he turned his head and was greeted by the sight of one side of a completely demolished counter. The wood was blackened and charred, the counter, what was left of it, looking like it had exploded like a bomb, splitting apart in all directions. Beyond it, the displays and shelves that had been stacked ever so carefully by the Twins were now smashed and scattered all across the room. Not a single piece of furniture remained standing, save for the fireplace which couldn't really be counted.
What the hell?
Before his brain could elaborate further on that very articulate query, someone reached into James vision and slapped him hard on the cheek. It wasn't a gentle blow, leaving him stunned for almost a full five seconds. When he finally had the presence of mind to look at his assailant, he was surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing in front of him, her face flushed, her eyes filled with what looked like concern and her left hand raised, prepared to smack him again on the other side. She was shouting something incoherent; James couldn't make heads or tails of what she was saying at all.
"Please don't," he tried to say as Ginny made to hit him again. To his relief, she stopped mid swing, but the relief was short lived. He hadn't heard himself speak at all, and now that he finally thought about it, he couldn't hear anything at all. Quickly, he swung his head back and forth, as though attempting to clear it from any lasting cobwebs, but it did nothing to restore his hearing. He tried to swear as loudly as he could and, judging by the expression on Ginny's face, his vocals were fine, but his hearing was not.
Having already tried to move his right hand and found himself unable to do so, James strained to lift his left and, with great difficulty, managed to gesture towards his ears. Ginny's face whitened, her eyes widening. She said something that Harry couldn't quite make out, and raised a wand. Where the hell did she get that?
James didn't feel the white light hit him. In fact, if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have thought it made contact with him at all. Whatever the spell was, it did what it was meant to (or at least what he thought it was meant to do), and his hearing began to return, slowly like a trickling river.
The first thing he was aware of was the ringing sound. It started off quite softly, but rapidly grew in volume exponentially until he felt as though his head was going to split open due to the noise. There was a muffled boom that sounded almost like an explosion, followed by what sounded like screaming. Not new screams, but a fresh batch of them, because now that he thought back, he realised there was screaming happening both before and after the explosion as well.
"...es...Ja...s...Jam...s...James...JAMES!"
Ginny made to cast the spell again and with a bang, James' audio cranked itself up to full volume again. All around him, the roar of a large fire drowned out everything else. The constant explosions were the only thing that he could hear over the fire, first one, then two, and then a series of deafening, overlapping BOOMS! as the light around them glowed a terrifying orange, as though some sort of fuel had just been hit. There was the occasional crash of shattering glass and before him, Ginny Weasley was shouting at him at the top of her lungs.
"JAMES CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
"...ow, yes, yes, I can hear you now," Harry announced, struggling to sit up as Ginny made to start shouting again. Ginny slugged him none too gently on the shoulder.
"That's the thanks I get for trying to bring you to your sense for the last five minutes?"
"Five minutes!" James yelped (not Harry, as he quickly remembered), "What in the blazes is happening? I-"
He was interrupted by another by another explosion which sent tremors through the ground.
"Death Eaters!" Ginny cried, placing his arm over her shoulders and lifting him to his feet. "Diagon Alley is under attack!"
"What?! Now?"
"No, next month." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course now, you idiot!"
Harry swore. Reaching into his robes, he tried frantically to find his wand, until Ginny tapped him on the shoulder and passed the wand she had been using to fix his ears – his wand – to him.
"Thanks! Stay here, Ginny!"
"No way! I'm not just going to hide while you go putting yourself in danger again!"
"Gin, you said you don't use magic anymore, what can you possibly do? Even if you had your own wand, you having used magic in six years!" Harry argued vehemently, pointedly ignoring the fact that, truthfully, he hadn't used magic in six years either.
"I assure you, James, that I am MORE than capable!" Ginny shouted, glaring, "as long as you can get me a wand!"
Harry huffed, but realised he wouldn't be able to sway her mind. Besides, he ran out of time to come up with even more arguments, as he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye and shoved Ginny away from him. The sickly orange curse whizzed in the air between them where Ginny's head had just been as she hit the fireplace behind her with a thud that was sure to leave bruises. At least she didn't get curse, Harry thought as he whirled to face the attacker.
An unmasked Death Eater stood framed in the hole that had used to be the doorway to the joke shop, his wand already making the motion for another shot. He was young, with sandy brown hair, and though he seemed familiar, Harry couldn't remember where he had seen the man before, nor did he waste any precious seconds trying.
"STUPEFY" He shouted, the stunning curse being the first spell that came to mind. His aim was true and the jet of red light hit the Death Eater right into the centre of his chest, causing him to crumple motionlessly to the floor. Harry jumped over the overturned shelf in front of him and raced over to the fallen man, easily finding the slightly bent wand that had been dropped and tossing it over to Ginny, who leaned heavily on the mantle of the fireplace catching her breath.
"Go! I'll follow you!" She told him, making shooing motions with her hands. Harry nodded and ran out into the street, hoping that by the time she could recover, everything would be over.
Everywhere he looked, it was chaos. If he had thought the fight he had been in the day before had been bad, it was nothing compared to the carnage that lay before him now. He could not see a single shop that was undamaged. In fact, he failed to find a single shop that had an intact front window. Score of people lay broken on the ground, some groaning and twitching in pain owed to their injuries, others stock still, either dead or unconscious. Standing above and amongst them, taking no notice of the casualties, were easily fifty or more Death Easters, at least half of whom were engaged in duels with some brave shoppers who had tried to fight back while the others were busy causing as much destruction as they could.
There were skirmishes everywhere. Some of the duels had backed into the alleyways, while others slugged it out right into the middle of the street. In the seconds that it took Harry to take in the situation erupting around him, he say one man miss a spell aimed at a Death Eater, only to get hit in the back with the Killing Curse. Even as he fell, a third Death Eater who hadn't realised the man was dead shot off another Killing Curse, which missed the falling body and hit the second Death Eater in the face, knocking the man back and sending his corpse flying into a wall.
A few feet away from him, an injured, maskless Death Eater tried to rise, but was grabbed by someone who had already fallen. A tired, painful scuffle broke out which the Death Eater won. She finally rose to her knees right into the path of a pale blue curse that caused her entire body to glow, before her head exploded, showering everyone near by with blood and gore. One piece of flesh seemed to hit a dueller in the face. The man cried out as he instinctively reached for his eyes, but was nailed by four curses at the same time before he even got close, and simply flew apart.
Cursing creatively under his breath, Harry Potter dove into the fray.
At first, he tried to stick to stunning spells which were easy and quick to cast, but when a spell soared over his shoulder form the wand of a man he downed during the first few seconds of the fight, he knew he had to sacrifice endurance for results of the permanent kind. The torso of his next target vanished under a well-aimed blasting curse.
Ducking under a closely timed series of hexes, Harry managed to locate his attacker, who happened to be sending spells from over the heads of another duel between two young women and an old beared man. He raised his wand, but the Death Eater had chosen his location well; Harry was unable to get a clear shot. Annoyed, he made to navigate around the furious duel, but couldn't find an opening because he was too busy dodging the spells coming from his own opponent, as well as randomly from every which direction.
Completely frustrated, he began sending spells at the Death Eater duelling the two women, one with blond hair and one with black, instead. The man was quite skilled, holding off all three of them with ease. Two Killing Curses were fired, one just missing the blond while the other blasting apart the piece of rubble Harry had levitated into its way. The black haired witch made good of her opportunity, her curse shooting forth like lighting. At first, Harry thought the spell had failed, even though the curse had clearly hit, but then obscenely, like some sort of water balloon bursting slowly, the man vanished in a fountain of his own blood. Neither woman wasted any time to even glance in the direction of their new ally. Together, the three of them managed to nail the other Death Eater that had been hiding behind them, their curses, a blasting curse from Harry and something unrecognisable from the other two, took him off his feet, literally, what little of him staining the wall blood-red as it slid to the pavement.
Harry raised a shield charm just in time to stop four simultaneous spells from hitting him as he turned to find another opponent. Swearing, Harry dropped the shield and made to fight back, when a scream ripped through air.
"THE DARK LORD IS HERE!"
Despite the chaos that already existed, somehow, even more pandemonium than before erupted. The Death Easters stopped their duels as one and spewed fire from their wands, torching the shops along the street, as well as anyone within them. Their momentary destruction and celebration of the arrival of their leader would have been the perfect moment to attack them, but no one was even thinking of fighting anymore. Those that could still move tried desperately to run, aimlessly casting spells over their shoulders that more often than not only served to hit those running behind them. Those that were too injured to do so clawed their way over the dead and dying, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and the deadly Wizard as possible.
Harry knew that, as much as he was loathe to admit it, he was nowhere near ready to face off against Voldemort. Fortunately, he looked nothing like himself, and since his scar hadn't been prickling at all, Voldemort having long since begun applying Occlumency against him, chances were the Wizard didn't even know Harry Potter was in the area at all. Maybe, just maybe, he could somehow get out of here without either Voldemort, was simply standing in the middle of the street without saying a word, silently observing the destruction around him, or the Death Eaters, who had begun cursing those that were retreating, being any the wiser.
Those hopes were dashed on razor sharp rocks when he heard Voldemort finally speak, and his words sent a chill down Harry's spine.
"Ginevra Weasley!" Voldemort cried with ill disguised glee, "It's been a long time since I last saw you indeed!"
One of the bodies lying on the floor picked themselves up painfully. The robes of another wizard fell off her head to reveal Ginny's fiery hair as she straightened painfully to stand before the Dark Lord.
"Hello, Tom," she greeted in a mocking tone that made Harry wonder if she was as insane as Bathilda Bagshot, "I must say, I think you were much more handsome as a boy!"
It seemed neither party had noticed Harry's presence against the wall yet, but that was soon going to chance. Harry made to race towards her, but before he could, something struck him painfully on the back of his head. Whirling instinctively, Harry caught a glimpse of a moth eaten shawl. Looking down, he saw a gold medallion lying at his feet. Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder.
Voldemort and Ginny were staring at each other, their wands unmoving and at the ready in front of them. Yet again, Harry swore. I can't let her duel him!
Bending down, he picked up the medallion and put it around his neck. He had no idea what it was for, but She had given it to him, and so far, she hadn't done him any harm. There was a first time for everything, of course, and it seemed like this was one of those times.
He barely felt the burning agony as, with a kick, he fell back into the darkness.
A/N: SO, thanks for reading Chapter 11! Not that I've given any clues (I haven't given any actually, haha) but anyone want to venture a guess at the medallion's explanation? It has something to do with ghosts!
DISCLAIMER: I completely forgot, sorry:/ The idea of the Hedwig scene came from the TV series 'Revenge' season one, between the dog known as Sammy and the protagonist, Emily Thorn/Amanda Clarke! It was one of my favourite scenes because it showed that, no matter how brutal Emily becomes later on, she is still human with human emotions and memories from when she was young...I wanted to portray that same level of connection and depth of emotion in my own scene, so there you go!
nesciamema: I WOULD agree with you, but the Twins are, well, quite ingenious, whereas Ginny is just a young woman who truly believes in the boy she once knew. . .she has no reason to believe that Harry would be at Godric's Hollow, and the problem with humans is that they see EXACTLY what the expect, rather than what's actually there...even if it might be obvious to some :P
mdauben: You have the disclaimer to the scene you mentioned above, sorry I forgot it last week! I'm glad you enjoyed the scene, it means I got at least some of it right, which is awesome! As for how long until Ginny realises who James is, well you'll just have to see haha, I don't want to reveal too much of the plot, because that part is actually important :P. You have to realise though that James is still really Harry, so if she likes Harry (what do you think? :D) she'll find it hard to stop herself falling for James/Harry no matter what name he's going by...
Awakening5: Hi, welcome to the story! I'm glad you like it, hope you'll stick with me until the end :D I just had to say this, you have the same ign (in game name) as one of my friends who plays League of Legends, it almost made me spit out my drink when the email telling me about your review came up, because he read fanfiction at all haha:D
To all my readers, thanks again for reading, and hope this bit of action (I tried making it as good as possible) satisfies you all for a bit! The action will be picking up in the next two chapters onwards though, as well as - finally - a beginning of what made me name this story 'the Power of Change'...
Until Next Time,
PowerOfOne