Unforgivables and Hospitals

A/N: I'm back from spring break and feeling refreshed! Thanks for your patience. Now back to the story…

James unwillingly took a step back as the intruder reached into his thick travelling cloak and drew his wand, a menacing glint in his good eye. Every fiber of his being was telling him to call for help—to run, but his feet remained rooted to the spot.

Rankin surveyed their surroundings with interest. 'I must say,' he drawled. 'The Potter residence certainly lives up to its name.'

As he finished his sentence, several sparks shot out from the tip of his wand and burnt several of Mrs. Potter's prized flowers to crisps.

James finally managed to find his voice. 'How did you get in here?' he demanded.

An ugly sneer lit up Rankin's features, twisting them unnaturally so that he looked more inhuman than ever. 'You speak of the good Aurors that were stationed here for your family's protection?'

When James nodded, Rankin threw his head back and cackled, sending shivers down his spine. 'What did you do to them?' he asked, fearing the worst.

Rankin finally stopped laughing. 'They are—how do I put it… very much dead,' he said casually.

James felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.

'Dead?' he echoed.

But there was no way they could be dead! There had been seven Aurors stationed around the house that night… and as far as James could tell, only one of Rankin.

'You killed them?' he said, horror gripping his chest like talons.

'That I did,' Rankin responded, still using the same calm voice.

James felt a sudden surge of anger that temporarily pushed aside any fear he may have felt. How could this man murder seven people and act as nonchalantly as if he was taking an evening stroll?

'You're sick,' spat James.

Rankin's grin widened, 'Yes, I am sick Potter—You're not the first one to have told me that.'

And he advanced on James like a predator closing in on its kill.

James backed up several steps until his back hit the wall. Looking around frantically, he picked up several rocks nearby and hurled them with all his might at Rankin's head.

Rankin incinerated them with a lazy flick of his wand. 'You can do better than that, can't you?' he taunted. 'I would have thought that Charlus Potter's son had more talent than this—where is your wand?'

A jet of purple light hit James' left leg and he fell to the floor in pain. His glasses slipped and fell off from the impact.

'Looking for these?' James could just make out Rankin's silhouette standing over him. He raised a boot and stepped on James' glasses with a loud crunch.

James rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He leaned against the wall for support as he caught his breath.

Rankin raised his wand again and another jet of purple light hurled itself towards James, who ducked just in time. He tried to run but cried out as his leg suddenly buckled in pain, allowing the next curse Rankin sent at him to find its mark.

James was caught in the chest this time and blasted backwards into the door of the Quidditch shed, which caved in noisily.

Wincing, he finally managed to push himself out of the rubble.

Just then, a light flicked on from the kitchen. James looked up and felt a surge of hope in his chest.

'Dad, mum!' he whispered.

The hope soon turned to fear, as Rankin had clearly also noticed the light and sent a curse hurtling towards the kitchen. James watched in horror as the windows shattered and the light flickered out.

'MUM, DAD!' James bellowed from the floor.

To his relief, Mr. and Mrs. Potter emerged from the wreck unscathed and wearing matching expressions of fury.

'James!' Mrs. Potter gasped when she saw him. 'Are you all right dear?' she cried as she knelt down beside him.

James nodded as he leaned on Mrs. Potter's shoulder. 'Just barely,' he grimaced. 'Where's dad?'

He looked around but both Mr. Potter and Rankin had vanished. 'Where'd they go?' he asked again. Mrs. Potter glanced around intently.

'James, promise me you won't move okay?' she said firmly.

'Mum, I—'

'Promise me James.'

James nodded. Mrs. Potter kissed him on the head and rushed off to join her husband.

From where he sat leaning against the shed, James could make out the sounds of combat just ahead, but he couldn't see what was going on. Several tense minutes later, the noise abruptly stopped.

James peeked around the wall. Had his parents finally won? Or had they…? James refused to even consider the thought.

The sound of laughter filled the air in the distance. James' heart thudded in his chest as he realized that it was not his parent's who were laughing. With a massive effort, he got to his feet and limped around the house.

He froze in shock and fear at the scene before his eyes.

Mrs. Potter was lying unconscious on the floor several feet from where Rankin stood over Mr. Potter, his wand pointing at his face. Mr. Potter spotted James and his eyes widened. He shook his head imperceptibly—

James lunged forward. 'DON'T TOUCH MY DAD!'

A fleeting look of surprise crossed Rankin's face as he whirled around, but he had the advantage. James' leg nearly gave out as he rushed, allowing Rankin to send him flying into the ground with a swift kick.

'James NO!' yelled Mr. Potter.

Rankin silenced him with a wave of his wand. He then rounded on James with a maniacal smile on his face.

'Not to worry Charlus, I shall take good care of your son for you once you're gone,' he sneered.

He bent down so that he was inches from James. James could feel Rankin's hot, musty breath on his face.

'You and I are more similar than you think James,' he breathed.

James suddenly felt open, exposed and vulnerable. His mind flashed with memories.

It was the first day of first year, and he had just met Sirius in the compartment. They were discussing which houses they wanted to be placed in. Then they had met the boy wearing shabby robes, Remus, and stood up to Lucius Malfoy for messing with him. The visages of Peter and Frank swam before his eyes, weaving in and out of focus as they were replaced by the vision of James, Frank and Alice flying on the pitch in preparation for tryouts…

Then he saw a flash of fiery, red hair—

'Don't touch my son!'

Mr. Potter had gotten to his feet and hurled a stunning spell at Rankin. Ranking leapt aside and retaliated with his own curse.

'James take your mother and run!' Mr. Potter bellowed as he barely managed to dodge a jet of purple light.

'I'm not leaving you!' James shouted as Rankin backed Mr. Potter into a corner.

Mustering all of his remaining strength, James charged forward and leapt onto Rankin's back, clawing his fingernails into Rankin's neck. Almost immediately, he was batted aside like a fly and landed with a thud at Rankin's feet.

Feeling dazed, James saw Rankin pointing his wand at him and the fearful look on Mr. Potter's face, as he shouted, 'NO!'.

'Crucio!'

James mind exploded into a world of agony. Never before had he felt so much pain. He couldn't think-all he could do was feel— Knives were piercing every inch of his flesh, while burning hot flames engulfed his body. He couldn't even register the bangs and screams around him— and he blacked out.

James could make out faint voices nearby. He tried moving his feet and hands, but found that it required energy that he did not have. 'Am I dead?' he thought to himself. He certainly couldn't move, but he was sure that the voices nearby were growing louder every second. That had to mean that he wasn't dead, that he was still—

James slowly opened his eyes. The brightness of the room startled him and he had to blink several times to adjust to it. As soon as his vision came into focus, he realized that he was lying in a bed. Around his, there were other beds, although there were no other inhabitants aside from him.

'James!'

He gasped in surprise when Mrs. Potter threw her arms around him, shaking with emotion. After several long moments, she pulled back, wiping her eyes.

'How do you feel dear?' she asked with concern.

James tried to speak but couldn't find his voice. Someone handed him a glass of water and he accepted it gratefully. He choked halfway through and someone had to thump him on the back several times before he stopped coughing.

'Thanks,' he gasped as he reached around for his glasses... his glasses.

With a sudden jolt of fear, he took in the room. 'Where is—?'

'I'm fine James,' said a voice to his left. 'And we're in St. Mungos.'

He turned and saw Mr. Potter sitting at his bedside looking rather worn, but smiling all the same. His left arm was in a sling and he had several purple bruises on his face.

'Dad,' he exclaimed as he leaned over to embrace his father.

'You're hurt,' he added as he took in Mr. Potter's injuries. Mr. Potter waved it off. 'This is nothing, nothing at all,' he said bracingly. His expression darkened.

'It's you we're all worried about James,' he added softly.

James gulped as the events came flooding back to him. He found that he really didn't want to talk about it, or even remember it… although he knew that was impossible because he could still feel it.

'It was the Cruciatus curse.'

James glanced up and realized that his parents were not his only visitors. An elderly witch was seated at the foot of his bed, her sharp eyes fastened upon James. She was dressed in formal looking robes and her graying hair was pulled into a tight bun.

'Professor!' he said in surprise. 'What are you doing here?'

'Checking on you, of course,' said Professor McGonagall. Her expression softened, making her look much sadder and less stern than James had ever seen her before.

'I know you may not wish to speak of it Mr. Potter,' she said softly. 'And I am not here to ask any questions. I only wish that you realize how much you went through this past night.'

James swallowed. He was feeling extremely uncomfortable with the conversation.

Mrs. Potter wiped her eyes. 'I still can't believe… all seven Aurors were killed,' she whispered. A grave silence fell over them.

After a few tense moments, James finally asked the question that had been eating at him.

'What happened to Rankin?'

James question was met with three defeated expressions. He was struck by how exhausted his parents seemed to be.

'He… escaped,' Mr. Potter said after a moment.

'The ministry arrived with reinforcements as soon as they realized that they had lost contact with the Aurors stationed at our house. Unfortunately, Rankin is no ordinary dark wizard. He apparated out of our boundaries as though they weren't even there.'

Mrs. Potter hung her head in shame. 'I should have stopped him before—I should have realized something was off that night…'

'It is not your fault Olivia,' Mr. Potter said firmly. 'Thanks to your call for help, our son is safe!'

James felt hollow inside. Rankin had escaped unharmed, and in return he had taken the lives of seven Aurors. It had been a terrible loss, with no gain.

Professor McGonagall spoke again, interrupting James' thoughts.

'It would appear that you have visitors who wish to see you Mr. Potter,' she said with a small smile.

James had been so deeply engrossed in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the loud knocking on the door. He could hear voices on the other end-

'Oi let me through—'

'Please restrain yourself sir!'

'Where is he? Is he awake?'

'He's probably asleep.'

'I said let me through you miserable, old—'

'This is a hospital! If you can not keep quiet I'll have to send you home Mr. Black!'

The door burst open and James' spirits rose as he took in the sight of his windswept friends.

Sirius was the first to reach James' side. 'How do you feel mate?' he demanded. 'We heard—' he gulped, 'we heard that they used the Cruciatus curse on you,' he finished quietly.

'Sirius don't ask so many questions,' Remus scolded as he too pulled up a chair at James' bedside. 'Give him some space.'

James noticed that his parents had disappeared from the room, along with Professor McGonagall.

Rankin's scarred face flashed before James' mind and he felt fear grip his chest once more. 'He's seen them,' he thought. 'I put them all in danger.'

'James, are you all right?' Sirius, Remus and Peter's faces were all etched with concern.

James heaved a deep sigh.

'I've got a lot to tell you.'