Summary:
Lily and James are captured by Voldemort, what plan does James have to save them?
Notes:
Lily sings this song and I would suggest listening to this version if you want to get goosebumps: watch?v=zxjvNUNXhkU
I posted this earlier than usual (so it's a bit shorter than usual) because I wanted to wish Abby ( pareidolian on tumblr and abby10 on ao3) a very early Happy Birthday, as I won't be able to post it on the 21st! You are incredibly lovely and such a talented person, I adore your fics so much xoxoxo - anyone who hasn't read them go read her Jily! My absolute favourite being Lactose Intolerance, which features Jily and yeeting milkshakes at fascists, lol!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 43: My Gallant Lad
Previously…
"Lily," he said quietly, speaking through his teeth. "Do you trust me to get us out?"
He was sure Voldemort could hear his heart pounding.
"If you have an idea, I'm all in," Lily murmured, watching Voldemort as he drew nearer.
"Leave it to me," he whispered.
Taking a deep breath, he turned and locked eyes with Severus Snape.
"Fuck you, Severus Snape! You absolute bastard! Stay the fuck away from my wife, do you hear? Don't you dare go near her, you fucking piece of shit! I despise you, Snivellus! You fucking coward! Bastard cursed Death Eater! Stay the fuck away from her or I'll kill you with my bare hands!" James screamed.
Voldemort had now reached them and was looking between Snape and James in confusion, and with not a small amount of displeasure.
"What do we have here then?" he said, turning to Severus Snape and smiling thinly. "Someone who is not a fan of yours, Severus? How very interesting. These two Dumbledore followers are clearly not aware whose presence they are in, or they would shut up and keep their heads low unless spoken to!"
Lily made a disbelieving noise at Voldemort. What the hell did that bastard think he was playing at, pretending never to have met them before, she thought.
James elbowed her sharply just as she was about to speak.
"Silencio!" hissed Voldemort, his face contorted with rage as two spells shot at lightning speed towards them. "I am the Dark Lord and I do not recall giving you permission to speak!"
Voldemort looked up at Mulciber, still wrathful, his wand pointed towards the Death Eaters in the room.
"My Lord," Mulciber said immediately. "They clearly have no idea who they have been captured by. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Black, or his side-kick."
Voldemort's face darkened.
"I am most displeased," he hissed, so quietly that they had to strain to hear him. "That traitor stole something valuable that I desperately need. Who are these two?"
"I have never seen them before in battle, my Lord," Mulciber answered quickly. "But I do recall seeing them in Hogwarts, both in Gryffindor, I believe they were Head Boy and Head Girl, graduated in '78, James Potter and Lily Evans, blood traitor and mudblood."
Mulciber was obviously lying, Lily thought, in order not to embarrass Voldemort. It was as though Voldemort had rewritten history, their previous capture and escape wiped out of their collective memories. Perhaps he had. The battle outside Malfoy Manor completely erased.
"I see," Voldemort turned towards Snape, with a bored expression. "Lily Evans? Was that not the name of the mudblood you coveted, before you realised the error of your ways? Still do desire, somewhat, as far as I can recall?"
Snape's face remained impenetrable, but he nodded his head minimally. James' face blazed with fury.
"Oh dear, I think that the mudblood's friend is upset by this fact, Severus, am I correct?" Voldemort smiled at James and Severus in turn.
"Potter has always detested me, my Lord," Severus said, keeping his voice steady.
"They are married now, my Lord," said Wilkes, interrupting the conversation.
Severus' eyes widened for a split second. Long enough for Voldemort to notice. Voldemort's smile grew.
"Oh Severus, how delightful!" he said, laughing lightly, and turning to look at James again. "I suggest you spend some time showing your friend, Mr. Potter, what happens to those who join Dumbledore's side and fight against us? And afterwards, if you would be so kind as to visit Mrs. Potter in her cell, and do likewise, I'm sure she would love to see you?"
James looked like he was about to explode.
"Wonderful!" Voldemort said, pocketing his wand and giving Severus a forced smile. "I'm exceptionally pleased, Severus, I do hope you arrange an entertaining evening for us! We are sadly very bored at the moment, and your mudblood has provided us with a lively diversion! Don't disappoint me, Severus!"
"I will strive to live up to your high expectations, my Lord," Severus said, bowing low.
"Excellent," Voldemort's eyes gleamed as they rested on Lily's white face. "Wilkes, Villiers – take the mudblood and lock her into one of the holding cells, they are currently empty. Mulciber, Rosier – escort Mr. Potter to the oubliette."
Lily looked at James in confusion and terror, as Wilkes and Villiers began dragging her away.
"I fear the mudblood does not yet know what an oubliette is, Mulciber. Would you care to enlighten her?" Voldemort said, with a wide smile. "I have other, more interesting and important, matters to attend to."
All the Death Eaters bowed low in front of him, and Voldemort strolled out of the room.
"Certainly, my Lord," Mulciber's eyes glimmered cruelly. "It is a dungeon that has only one escape route — through a trap door in its ceiling. Escape is of course pretty much impossible. In this castle it also doubles up as our torture chamber."
Lily's wide eyes flew to James' face, both still unable to speak. What if this was the last time she saw him alive? She had never gotten the chance to say she was sorry about their stupid row, to tell him how much she loved him, she couldn't lose him now, they couldn't hurt him, anything but that. She felt unable to breathe. A single tear tracked down her cheek. James looked back, a determined look on his face, she knew that look.
I've got this, I have a plan, his face said.
His eyes were burning, burning through to her very soul, his gaze so intense, for some reason it reminded her of the look in his eyes the time she had walked in on the Marauders and Snape, after The Prank.
I need you, beautiful, I need you safe, she thought, her own eyes heavy with dread and fear.
James closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when he looked at her again, they were shining brightly, a warm smile, and almost imperceptible wink. She knew that smile.
Alright, Evans…
She tried to smile back.
I trust you, she thought, I trust you, James.
Then Mulciber and Rosier jerked James backwards, and her captors pulled her in the opposite direction, and their eyes remained locked until James reached the stairs leading into the dungeons, and Mulciber lifted his booted leg and pushed James down the stairs, hard.
"Stop it!" Lily screamed, unsure how she had overcome the spell so quickly, pulling so hard that she was momentarily free from the Death Eaters holding her.
They grabbed her again, looking stunned.
"A fall like that down stone stairs could kill him! If anything happens to him, God forgive me, I'll come after whoever is responsible and-" Lily was still screaming.
"How the fuck is she able to talk?" stammered Wilkes.
"No idea," Villiers said, concentrating on trying to hold onto Lily, who was twisting violently in his grasp.
"James!" shouted Lily.
As they dragged her kicking and screaming into the holding cell, she heard the creak of something metal opening and after a few seconds, the sound of a sickening thud as something heavy hit the floor.
"Welcome to the oubliette, Mr. Potter!"
She could hear the cruelty in Mulciber's voice.
….
"Wake up, Potter, stop being a drama queen, as usual."
Snape's nasal tones, filled with contempt, floated into his consciousness as soon as he awoke. He opened his eyes slowly, intense pain racking his body, making him wish he could sink back into oblivion. As his eyes accommodated to the dark, he noted he was chained to a freezing cold, damp wall, arms outstretched and unable to bear any weight on his feet, he guessed correctly that he must have fractured both his ankles when he was thrown down feet first. He was slumped forwards as a result. It was painful to breath, probably due to a few broken ribs. The difficulty in breathing appeared to be also due to the effort he had to make to lift his ribcage against his own weight. His shoulders were killing him, he wondered vaguely had they been dislocated. His glasses must have fallen off and he could feel bits of glass sticking into his face. There were torches in the corners of the room. And it was freezing cold, his jacket and muggle clothing gone, his teeth were chattering and his body shaking. Mulciber and Rosier were standing behind Snape, looking bored, leaning against the wall. Snape was standing next to a small table, wand in his hand, with a mask-like facial expression, revealing nothing. He concentrated on trying to breathe for a moment. He knew immediately that they had already used the Cruciatus on him a number of times, although he couldn't remember much, if anything.
"The Dark Lord wants to know what you and Lily Evans were doing here today, Potter," Snape said, curling his lip as he spat out his surname. "and whether you know anything about a book that Sirius Black stole from him."
"My wife and I were going for a walk, before we were rudely interrupted by your friends, Snivellus," said James, smirking openly as he saw Snape's eyes darken at the mention of wife. "I know nothing about missing books. Tell Voldy to look after his treasures more carefully."
"Hardly credible, Potter," Snape said, looking livid as he gripped his wand tightly.
"What Mr. and Mrs. Potter do in their spare time is frankly none of your business," James laughed, his breathing laboured as he shot Snape a condescending look.
Snape's nostrils flared.
"You're very ugly, Sniv, you should keep your abnormally large nose out of this. Try to remember that Lily Evans hates your guts and that she never once returned your affections. You disgust her," James said.
Snape appeared speechless momentarily. James saw his fists curl as he stepped closer to him.
"Do I need to remind you who's in charge here, Potter?" Snape murmured through his teeth.
"You can't make me tell you anything, Sniv," James' teeth were chattering so hard he could barely get the words out, but the utter contempt was clear.
"I can do what I want to you!" Snape's voice was full of rage as his wand tip touched James' right shoulder. "Crucio!"
The pain flashed through his sinews and his chest and ribs, stopping his breathing. All remaining colour drained from his face. He couldn't even cry out with the pain, until Snape moved his wand lower and James heard himself scream in agony as he gasped for air, the pain in his legs intensifying dramatically. He couldn't breathe and scream at the same time and he began to feel panicked, his pupils dilating.
"What were you saying, Potter?" Snape laughed to himself, glancing back at the two men who were now looking mildly entertained.
As the spell wore off, James looked up at Snape through the hair that had fallen over his eyes, dripping sweat and melting frost, every inhaled breath a struggle.
"I said… you can't read my mind, I won't tell you… anything," he gasped, with a derisive eye-roll.
Snape's face lit up.
"Wrong, Potter, I suggest you do your research a bit better the next time you say that to a Legilimens, but then you were always infinitely arrogant and stupid," Snape was wearing the biggest smile as he plunged his wand into the base of James' neck and intoned the spell.
The unpleasant tingling sensation behind James' forehead, painful so closely following on from the Cruciatus, confirmed the spell was working.
Took you long enough, you fucking tosser, James thought, glaring at Snape.
Snape narrowed his eyes, his expression somewhat unsure. He could now read James' mind completely.
Oh for Merlin's sake, man, I've been hinting you use that spell for bloody ages. I need to talk to you, alone. It's about Lily.
Snape's mouth shut tightly as he listened to James' thoughts, his wand now pushing against James' Adam's apple.
"Why would you possibly think I would be interested in doing that?" he said quietly.
Because you're interested… in Lily's fate? Because you don't… want her to die?
He watched as James' breathing became more difficult, as the man pursed his lips together tightly while exhaling through his mouth and inhaling through the nose with his mouth closed.
"Of course not!" Snape said, dread and fear making his fingers shake as he grabbed hold of James' hair and lifted him upwards roughly.
James gasped a lungful of air as he watched Snape, knowing the other men wouldn't know what he was thinking.
Please, talk to me… alone… for a few minutes, that's all I ask… you can bring them back in… any time you want…
Snape let go of James and watched as his body slid downwards, groaning in pain, his weight hanging from his shoulders, his neck hanging down. Snape looked back at the two Death-Eaters, regarding him with vague interest.
"What did you find out, Snape?" Mulciber asked, stifling a wide yawn.
"Not enough," Snape demurred.
He looked back at James, unsure.
"I need to question him, alone," he said eventually, sounding displeased. "Leave this room, I shall call you if I need anything."
"Are you sure?" Mulciber asked.
He sounded disappointed.
"Yes, for now. Stand guard above the trapdoor," he said, his wand still pressed to James' neck. "You shall be needed again shortly."
James' breathing seemed shallower once more.
Please hurry… we don't have much time…
"You have very little time and talking to me will do nothing to change that!" Snape snapped back, as soon as he heard the trap door swing shut.
He felt mentally exhausted.
"Talk!" he ordered, removing the wand from the other man's neck but keeping it levelled at him.
"Of course it won't change that," James' voice was barely a whisper. "We both know I'll be dead soon."
"Obviously," Snape said coldly.
"And if you don't do something, Lily will die later today too," James said, lifting his head with difficulty and looking straight at Snape.
Snape's mouth went dry. He had been trying to avoid thinking about that possibility, probability, but it was true. And it terrified him.
"I…" he said.
Fuck you, Snape, if she dies, I will hold you entirely responsible!
James was making a strange noise as he breathed in, Snape could see that talking was too difficult for the other man.
"I won't be the one killing her!" Snape whispered, his dark eyes molten. "You killed her, allowing her to be part of your futile resistance group! What kind of husband were you? Did you want her to die? Were you sick of her already?"
"Pah!" James made a dismissive sound in his throat and spat out some blood. "If she dies… it will be… because you failed… to rescue her!"
Snape looked at him furiously, his heart racing, feeling unwell. He didn't want to hear any more, wanted no part in this entire awful scenario involving the love of his life. Wanted this to be a nightmare that he could wake up from. Most of all, he wanted James Potter to shut up and stop appealing to his conscience.
"I'm going to have to Crucio you again," Snape said, placing the wand back onto James' chest.
"Are you now? How astonishing," James rasped, looking vaguely bored.
"It will appear suspicious otherwise. Wouldn't want the others to guess what you're trying to do, would you?" Snape said.
James' face immediately changed, and he nodded.
"Do it," he ordered.
Snape hated being told what to do, by Potter, as though he was Head Boy again, in this situation – how was that even possible?
Snape's Crucio was excruciating and longer than the previous spell. By the time it wore off, James was flitting in and out of consciousness and shaking like a leaf.
Please…
Snape stared back at him.
Please…
"Please what?" he whispered irritably.
I'm going to tell you how you save Lily.
"I cannot ask Voldemort to spare her! Not now, not in these circumstances!" Snape hissed, swallowing hard.
Not the plan…
He could see James was wilting rapidly, his mind becoming progressively emptier.
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" he said, throwing a powerful healing charm at James. "What are you talking about?"
James opened his eyes and took a few deeper breaths.
"I want you to go directly from here to Lily. Tell her I'm dead. Tell her you've had a change of heart and want to leave Voldemort's forces. Tell her you're going to save her, that you're doing it because you love her. She has a portkey on her. Bring her to whatever part of the castle is accessible by portkey and get both of you out of here. You can decide on longer term plans after that. If you approach the others with Lily, looking for help, they will accept you. Lily will never agree to join Voldemort. Ever," James whispered.
James was wrong, Severus was sure of it, if there was no option, Lily would cave and join Voldemort. But having Lily Evans at last? He was willing to risk everything.
"And you?" Snape said. "You know I can't-"
James looked at him blankly.
What do you mean?
"You stay here," Snape said.
"Obviously," James said, mimicking Snape's earlier statement and tone.
"Which means you-" Snape said, narrowing his eyes.
Yes, I'm quite aware, Snape.
James lips had turned a bluish colour.
"Will she agree to… you know?" Snape said after a pause.
I can't mind read, elaborate…
Snape tossed his head.
"You know exactly what I mean, Potter!" he whispered irritably. "Do I… have I any chance with her?"
He could see James struggling to think, his eyes closed.
"Maybe, yes," he gasped. "But tell her… tell her you tried to save me… that I convinced you… to swap sides… she needs to believe that…"
Snape's jaw tightened. He couldn't imagine himself saying that to Lily.
"Snape!" James' voice was fading but urgent. "You have to…"
She won't go with you unless she thinks… you have… please…
The man thoughts weren't even making sense now.
"If I do this, I shall be risking my life. If Voldemort finds out, I'm a dead man," Snape's words were clipped, anxious.
I know… but it's Lily… your only hope… with her…
Snape stayed quiet.
If he finds… Blame me… Occlumens…
Snape vacillated. He was an excellent Occlumens. He could blame Potter, a trick he had fallen for, and then an opportunity to play Dumbledore? The fact that Voldemort knew about his past infatuation made it more credible, but also more dangerous.
She's dead otherwise, Snape, dead!
Snape nodded slowly.
"Do you have anything I can say to her if she doesn't believe that we discussed this? Any secret code or words?" Snape said, leaning down.
James' whisper was barely audible.
"Graham's number."
Disbelief written all over his face, Snape turned to leave.
Snape!
He turned back.
Be good to her. Please.
His dark eyes widening slightly.
Get her out of here, Severus, I'm depending on you…
It was ridiculous and stupid and laughable. Was Potter giving him his blessing? What would he have done, in the same position? Would he have sacrificed himself to save Lily if it meant Potter won in the end? She was better off without Potter. Lily would see that, she'd come around, she would come to love him, he knew it deep down, especially if she thought he had tried to save her husband. Potter was right.
Would he have done the same, though?
He shivered, impatient to rid himself of these thoughts. Get her out of here, Severus, always telling him what to do! Still, there was no denying the man was brave, braver than he had expected, if you valued that. He found himself compelled to look at James Potter one last time – shaking violently with the cold, his lips blue, his body covered in the pinprick rash of the Cruciatus, his breathing ragged, his face grey, unable to stand. Potter's eyes made his stomach twist uncomfortably – there was pain there, and that glazed look that prisoners got. But there was fire still in his eyes, desperate light, and he knew why they burned.
"For Lily," he said to Potter, nodding his head.
For Lily… Thank you.
Potter was unable to talk now. Without answering, Snape aimed his ebony wand at the trapdoor and intoned a spell to pull himself upwards, holding onto the rope ladder.
"Get Hugo Avery," he said brusquely to Rosier and Mulciber. "Tell him he can have Potter. You can help him, of course."
Mulciber looked mutinous.
"The Dark Lord's wishes," Snape said.
Mulciber stormed off, cursing under his breath.
Snape flew down the corridor towards the holding cells, his heart racing furiously, wand out. He had thrown a silencing spell at the oubliette. He hadn't forgotten anything. This was a dangerous game. But he loved Lily Po- Evans, Lily Evans, with all his heart. It was worth it, if it meant he got to be with her for the rest of his life. He stood in front of the door to her cell, taking deep breaths and flicked some dandruff off his dark robes, before entering the room.
…
"Sé mo laoch, mo ghile mear,
'sé mo chaesar, gile mear,
suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas fhéin
ó chuaigh i gcéin mo ghile mear.
Bímse buan ar buairt gach ló,
ag caoi go cruaidh 's ag tuar na ndeór
mar scaoileadh uaim an buachaill beó
's ná ríomhtar tuairisc uaidh, mo bhrón."**
Lily's raw voice echoed through the castle walls, a lone, hauntingly beautiful song, the words indecipherable to any of the Death-Eaters who heard it, yet clearly a lament of some kind. She hadn't been able to stand it, hearing James' screams, imagining what was happening to him. And when she couldn't hear him, dread clawing at her every pore, wondering…
Are you dead, my love? Did they kill you? Please don't die, I beg you!
Haunted by the silence, almost relieved when his screams returned, because she was selfish and wanted him alive, needing him to be alive… almost immediately replaced by rage and terror and guilt and begging them to leave her husband alone, screaming herself hoarse.
She couldn't stand it when the sound from the dungeons suddenly stopped – a spell, she was sure.
What did it mean? Was he-
She started to sing. Her voice was low and raw, yes. She sang in Irish. Fuck them, no Death-Eater could get inside her head now. Once she started, she didn't stop. She pictured him, her lively lad, turning around mid-laughter and catching her eyes as he and Sirius poked fun at each other, she saw him saying something ridiculous to Minnie and watching as the strict teacher's mouth broke into a huge grin despite herself, saw all the Marauders chasing each other and yelling and James landing on top of the others. And always his mischievous, adoring eyes turned to her, searched for her. She saw him propose to her surrounded by fireflies, vividly heard that muggle record, the lyrics bittersweet…
"Yours in the gray of December
Here, or on far distant shores
I've never loved anyone the way I love you
… Yours to the end of life's story"
"No!" she said. "No! Not today!"
She breathed in sharply, as someone knocked on the door, twice, in abrupt succession. She recognised that trademark sound.
"Severus?" she croaked.
….
Severus pushed the heavy door slowly, almost reluctantly, now that it came to it. He looked uncharacteristically agitated, his waxy cheeks flushed. Relief swept over him as he looked at Lily. She looked upset but safe. She was shackled to the wall, her hands above her head, tied together. She was trembling and pale. There was no sign of the Cruciatus, or other dark magic.
"Are you alright, Lily?" He said, hurriedly throwing a potent heating charm at her.
"What are you doing here?" Lily's husky voice surprised him, he hadn't heard her screaming.
"What happened? Did they hurt you?" Severus said, moving closer to Lily and regarding her anxiously.
"They hurt me by hurting him," she whispered.
A single tear tracked down her cheek, and Severus wiped it with his thumb.
"I'm so sorry, Lily," he said, his voice trembling – he was slightly scared of her, and then there was unexpected guilt - guilt about lying, guilt about how James was going to die. "I tried to... I tried..."
He stopped and took a few breaths, looking at the ground.
"I tried to save him, I tried some healing charms and... and I sent the others away. I wasn't sure what to do, Lily, but then I was called away and Avery had... I was too late, Lily, I'm so sorry."
He couldn't look at her.
"No, Sev, please, not James, please," Lily's broken whisper made Severus' heart ache.
"I'm so sorry, I'm... you don't know how sorry I am," Severus whispered back. "I'm desperately sorry."
Lily didn't say anything, silent tears streaming down her face.
"He... James and I, he spoke to me, he thanked me for trying to save him, before he... he asked me to save you, to get you out of here. I promised him I'd do it. Do you understand Lily?"
She was looking at him blankly, through her tears, her mind far away in some distant time or place.
"Lily!" Severus whispered urgently. "Lily, he wanted you to be safe! He insisted I save you! He told me a code word - I've no idea what he meant, but he said to tell you - Graham's Number."
"Graham's number," Lily repeated quietly, as though dazed. "James."
"Yes, James," Severus said, trying not to sound impatient. "We have to leave now, I promised him I'd get you out of here! Do you understand?"
Lily nodded, still crying.
"My beautiful," she said. "My gallant lad."
"Yes, yes," Severus said, eyeing the door of the cell. "We need to leave! Now! If Voldemort finds us, we're both dead!"
Lily stared at him intently. After a few seconds she smiled vaguely.
"I'm so sorry Sev, let's go, I just... it's so much to take in, you know? I can never thank you enough, for trying to save him, for being such a noble person?"
Severus squirmed.
"It means everything to me," she said, her red-rimmed eyes looking into his soul.
"It's nothing," he said firmly, refusing to hold eye contact and pointing his wand at the chains. "Frangit!"
The chains broke, and Lily collapsed into Severus' arms.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Can you help me? I don't think I can walk?"
…..
He heard the trapdoor groan, one at a time he heard the light footfall of young men jump down the rope ladder.
He wouldn't let himself think of her. She was safe. Lily - his soulmate, the kindest, bravest, truest person he had ever met. Their baby was safe. He had managed to keep Snape's Legilimency away from those thoughts. Voldemort's reaction to his rant, his own interaction with Snape - both had played out exactly as James had predicted, practically word for word. In another world, another future - he could see Lily and their two children, all four of them, standing in that Tuscan field surrounded by wildflowers and joy.
It was not to be. Not in this lifetime.
One of Sirius' favourite muggle songs flashed through his mind...
I, I wish you could swim
Like the dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing, nothing will keep us together
We can beat them, for ever and ever
Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day
I,
I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive them away
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day***
He looked up at Avery, ready.
"Fancy meeting you here? I knew we'd get you in the end, Potter!" Avery laughed. "Looks like today is my lucky day!"
He was rubbing his hands together with glee, his laughter loud and erratic, his eyes wide. He had changed drastically since James had last seen him in King's Cross Station all those years ago. There was no trace of boyishness left in him, despite his laughter - his eyes were cold, glazed, bitter. His face seemed sunken in, he could easily have passed for at least a decade older. All the expensive finery, the opulent clothes, the effortless air of pureblood pampering had vanished. In its place - a ruthless brutality and reckless savagery- Voldemort might have welcomed him with open arms when he emerged from his time in the underage section of Azkaban, but Voldemort now owned him, body and soul. There was no turning back. No second chances. If Avery hated Potter and the blood traitors he represented, he hated Voldemort just as much. The only way he would ever leave the Death Eaters was in a box. He was one of the Dark Lord's foot soldiers now, expendable, a position usually reserved for half-bloods, being related to Malum a black mark against him.
"Tell me, has life been kind to you since you left Hogwarts, Potter?" he snarled, his wand raised, as James was lifted up and hurled backwards against the stone wall. "Have you been enjoying all your wealth and privileges?"
James tried to concentrate on breathing, gasping as he inhaled. New shackles appeared around his limbs, tethering him tightly to the rocky wall, pressing on his broken ankles, nearly causing him to faint.
"What a pitiful way to die! This is how traitors die, Potter! How your friends will mourn! When I'm finished with you here, I'll move on and kill your little mudblood. It will be reassuring for you to know what sort of death awaits her, won't it?" Avery's shrill laughter echoed around the dungeon.
Please, if there is a God, let her be safe, he asked, closing his eyes.
"Scribo per Ignem!" Avery cried, as a dark, liquid, ink-like substance poured out of his wand and floated in front of James, suspended in the air, shimmering as though molten.
"Proditor!" Avery said, with a slash of his wand.
The liquid rearranged itself into the word "traitor", that seared into the skin of James' chest, sizzling as it burned, unbearable.
"Crucio!" said Avery, placing the tip of his wand inside the burnt flesh.
James blacked out with the pain. He flirted in and out of consciousness, each time the pain overwhelmed him and he felt everything fade into blessed darkness, one of the three men threw a powerful healing charm at him, which kept him awake long enough for another Crucio. Mulciber and Rosier joined in, Sectumsempra one of the many spells they used.
He could feel his body weakening with the blood loss. Lily would have their child, a boy, Harry. Thinking about Lily would only endanger her safety, in case she felt his presence. His parents would be proud of him for saving Lily, and they would have a beloved grandchild. Sirius and the Marauders would make the most excellent uncles. Nobody was a loser. For a moment he thought of Sirius losing his blood brother, then losing him too. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his brother, ignoring the pain. I'm fine, Sirius old chap, this is how it ends. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm too weak to cope with losing any of you. You deserve a long life with Moony, the best man we have ever known.
He opened his eyes again and saw Mr and Mrs Evans standing beside him, smiling.
"I kept my promise, Sir," he tried to say.
When he blinked, they were gone. He fought it, yet as he sank into darkness, all he could think about was Lily.
Lily, Lily, Lily…
...
* Oubliette – a dungeon with the only entrance or exit being a trap door in the ceiling
** "Mo Ghile Mear" (My Gallant Lad) is an Irish song, based on a poem by Seán Clárach Mac Domhnaill (1691–1754) a lament written after the defeat of the Bonnie Prince Charles at the Battle of Culloden, Scotland, in Irish poets had pinned their hopes on this revolutionary prince and his flight was a crushing blow to the long-suffering Gaeil of both Ireland and Scotland. The widow in the song is actually a metaphor for Ireland, and her husband is the defeated prince.
watch?v=zxjvNUNXhkU
I advise you listen to this recording of it, both because it's absolutely stunning (I dare any of you listen to it and not get goosebumps) and because the way it is sung is relevant to the next chapter…!
Translation of the 2 verses in the chapter:
My gallant lad is my hero,
He's my hero, gallant lad,
I found neither sleep nor happiness
since my gallant lad went far away.
I am incessantly unhappy every day,
grieving sorely, showing signs of tears
as the lively lad was sent away from me
and, my sorrow, no news is told of him.
*** Heroes by David Bowie (also in the title of the fic)
Notes:
Any thoughts? A tad angsty, perhaps? Would love to hear! Thank you for all the support xxx