Jasper, October 1977
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Jasper pulled his arms back, elbows to his sides, fists in front of him as he rocked between his feet in a semi-dance, his eyes on the punching bag in front of him.
He lunged forwards again, throwing out his right fist against the bag, followed by his left, and then his right again.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Again, he withdrew and danced from foot to foot, eyes on the bag.
It had been three months now. Three months of dead leads, three months of feeling like it was all his fault.
He'd made an oath to himself to protect Bess when he'd found her that awful New Year's night back at the start of in 1976. Another when Dumbledore had explained that she could be the key to ending Voldemort's reign of terror. But he'd failed to keep her safe. He'd been unable to locate his old mentor, Delbert Barracus, for over six months, and by all accounts, this had been the reason why Bess was missing.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
And no, he didn't hold stock in the thought that she was dead. He knew that if it was Delbert who had her, he wouldn't stop until the job was done.
And if Voldemort had had her, he would either have stepped up his game, or he would have had killed her already. In any case, Bess wouldn't have been able to withstand Voldemort's questioning - stronger men and women had fallen under his interrogations.
But there was still no body. Which meant that Bess was probably alive somewhere, wishing she wasn't.
His thoughts flickered to Sirius Black. He'd not been in contact since Bess had gone missing. He'd not replied to any of Jasper's letters. According to Lily, he was soldiering on, just like Jasper was.
And that was more frustrating and heart-breaking for him than he could put into words. He had grown to love Bess as a sister. Black just loved her, plain and simple. He didn't deserve this pain.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Jasper tried to refocus his mind, and not think about the three letters sitting unopened on the small table by the front door to his London flat.
He knew who they were from, and he didn't want to answer two (one from Lily Evans, updating him on Hogwarts since he'd stopped teaching there, the other from his sister in China updating him on her house search), and couldn't bear to read the third (from Charlotte).
He hadn't seen Charlotte, the woman who held his heart, for over a year and a half now. Not since he'd broken up with her, sending her to America to live near his sister, telling her that she'd be safer if she weren't around him. Every letter she sent to him contained messages filled with her happiness, but he could tell she missed him. He just couldn't let himself think about a life with her yet. Not right now. But that was the trouble with falling in love with a Muggle girl during a Wizarding war. He had to let her go if she were to survive. So that he wouldn't end up in the same position as Black.
Snap! Snap! -
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
Jasper lowered his arms to his sides and shook his head, spraying sweat across the room, glad that no one could see him right now. He looked at the clock hanging from his wall, and swore. He'd been boxing for over an hour, and that would be Kingsley, picking him up for their next assignment.
It was technically his day off, but he didn't have those anymore. Not really. Last year he spent one of his two days off per week teaching Hogwarts students. Now, he spent all of his free time working for The Order, helping his parents pack up their house, or boxing. Or running. Or walking. Or pacing. Or- well, just keeping busy really. He'd found that the silent moments, like when he was asleep, were the worst to handle. They were the times when the memories seeped in.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
Jasper swore again and rolled his head back over his shoulders. Walking to the door, he ripped off his gloves one by one and wiped the back of his hand against his forehead, as if that could make his sweat any less pronounced.
"Wotcher," Kingsley said with a grin when the door swung open. "Nice relaxing morning, was it?" he asked, walking in without waiting for an invitation. Though, if Jasper thought about it, he didn't need one.
Only five years Jasper's senior, Kingsley was already making waves in the Ministry due to his incredible eye for detail, work ethic, and sheer brilliance. It was a running joke amongst the friends - Frank, Alice, Kingsley, Benji, and now Jasper, he supposed - that Kingsley would probably end up Minister for Magic. If he could be bothered to hang up the earrings, stop dressing as 'jazzy', and start caring about the politics of working for The Ministry. And Kingsley would never give up his earrings or dress sense.
"Did you miss the cleaning portion of your charms classes?" Kingsley asked, wriggling his nose and lifting a half eaten banana from the small breakfast bar.
"Oh shut up," Jasper replied, stalking past him towards the bathroom. "I'll be out in a second. Not late, are we?"
"Nah, I'll just tell everyone you were gelling your hair or something," Kingsley called over the sound of running water.
Jasper groaned as he stood under the spray, letting the hot water cascade over his tired and overused shoulder muscles. "Can you replace gel with wax? Much more believable," he called, lathering soap over his chest.
"Yeah, well, if I was going for the truth I'd say you'd holed yourself up in your flat again, blaming yourself for... everything?" Kingsley called from the living room. "Is this polyjuice?"
"Yes! Don't touch it!" Jasper shouted back. He listened, his head poking out of his shower curtain, until he heard the telltale clank of a cauldron being placed back on the wooden floor. Then, he allowed himself to relax again, and continued with his washing.
"I don't want to ask, but seeing as we're in the middle of a war, and it's always the last people you suspect... why are you brewing polyjuice potion exactly?" Kingsley asked.
Jasper sighed deeply and turned off the shower, reaching for his towel as he stepped over the basin and on to the soft grey mat. "It's not for me. It's for my dad... he's getting worried about stuff, I can tell." He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the living area, drying his hair with a smaller towel.
"And they think polyjuice will help?" Kingsley asked, raising an eyebrow at the bubbling cauldron.
"It will... they're-" he stopped, taking a moment to stare at his partner.
"What? Don't trust me now?" Kingsley asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Favourite Muggle quote?" Jasper asked quickly. Bess had cottoned on to a whole host of passwords which wizards, and especially Death Eaters, would never be able to guess. Not in a million years. Any self respecting dark wizard wouldn't concern himself with Muggle films and trivia. He'd be too disgusted at the thought.
Kingsley rolled his eyes, but said, "'You're gonna need a bigger boat.' Now, what's-?"
"They're leaving. Going to live with my sister in China. It's safer over there for both of them," Jasper sighed, walking into his bedroom, which was a lot tidier than the rest of his flat at the moment. Then again, his flat had been impeccable until he'd come home from work the night before and decided to try and rearrange, abandoned the plan, and then abandoned putting the flat back together again. The banana had been a pre-workout snack.
"Merlin. Sorry, Jas!" Kingsley called, earning a gruff noise from Jasper who was pulling on his black turtleneck jumper in lieu of an undershirt.
"Don't worry about it," Jasper replied, slipping on his dark blue denim jeans. He padded out into the living area again as he zipped up his fly and buttoned his trousers, raising an eyebrow to Kingsley, who was helping himself to Jasper's cereal collection.
"Wot?" Kingsley asked through a mouthful of Frostie's, watching as Jasper began pulling on his socks. "Muggle cereal's the bomb!"
"It's literally just frosted flakes. It's all sugar on like a crisp of something. It's not that healthy for you," Jasper replied, knowing that Kingsley liked to take care of his body.
"Look, we have this conversation every time you're late and I eat your cereal. Just leave me to it," Kingsley replied with a cheeky grin. "A man's body is a temple, and sometimes I like to put a little somethin' somethin' in there to spice things up!"
"You're ridiculous," Jasper said, shaking his head, a wry smile on his face. Kingsley never failed to cheer him up. "Ready?" he asked, slipping his feet into his brown suede boots and grabbing his matching jacket. "What?" he asked, when his partner sent him a look.
"You look like that Muggle actor from that escape film... what's his name? Stuart... Steadman..." One more... negative... side effect of Muggle passwords to confirm identities? Kingsley had taken it upon himself to watch at least one 'classic' per week.
One of the surprising things about Kingsley Shacklebolt was that he was a Pureblood Wizard who was always trying to find something Muggle to learn about, from literature to their slang, or how they cooked. And he never bragged about it, never tinkered or improved, simply learnt. He always said that knowledge like that could come in handy in the future. Though Jasper didn't know why knowing how to use a Muggle typewriter could come in handy.
"Steve McQueen?" Jasper asked.
"That's the one!"
"Is that a good thing?" he asked, letting Kingsley walk out first.
The suave wizard began to laugh. "No! You look ridiculous!"
"Well thanks," Jasper replied with an exasperated sigh as he locked his door. "You know I was cool in school, right? No one had the heart to call me ridiculous. Though actually, coming from you, that's a compliment," he added cheekily, looking his partner up and down as he slipped his wand into his pocket, his hand remaining there, holding onto the long wooden stick as he walked. He was joking, of course - Kingsley looked incredible.
They were going incognito as Muggles today, and Kingsley, as always, had understood the assignment perfectly. He was wearing a bright blue bootcut suit, with a light brown turtleneck underneath it and black heeled shoes. His afro had been magicked longer, sitting like a black halo of curls on top of his head.
"Oh please, we're going to Brick Lane first. I look fly," he said, opening his jacket and twirling as he walked, "and you look like... well..."
"White?" Jasper asked, rolling his eyes.
"Exactly."
Jasper shook his head and laughed as Kingsley pushed open the front door of his building.
They walked along in silence for a few minutes, even apparating to the start of the long Muggle street without saying a word to each other. A nod, a flick of the wrist, and they were sitting down at one of the outdoor cafe tables at one end of the road, having walked past a miniskirt-wearing Alice, who was surveying the opposite end of the long road.
Jasper settled into his seat and watched out of the corner of his eye as Kingsley withdrew a tatty book from his pocket. He noted the title, Nineteen Eighty-Four.
"Why're you reading that?" he asked, his eyes scanning the road around them for anyone he could recognise from the wanted posters, intelligence they had on Voldemort and his followers, or just anyone who looked out of place.
"It's about a surveillance state. Seemed quite on the nose," Kingsley replied, turning the book this way and that in his hand. With a flick of his finger and a look, he ordered them two coffees, and settled back into his chair. "Dum told me to read it, said it's potentially got information we need."
Jasper smirked at Kingsley's new way of shortening Dumbledore's name - it changed each day.
"That doesn't make sense," Jasper replied, sighing and rolling his shoulders again as he took in the information. "Don't think there's much that we could learn from that right now, other than don't trust your neighbour's kids, love's complicated, or that rats are awful."
"You've read it?" Kingsley asked, setting the book on the table and joining Jasper in scanning the street as he crossed his ankle over his other knee.
"Course."
"Well then, save me the hassle and go tell Dum all that, would you? It's getting quite bleak. Not really my cup of tea."
Jasper smirked, his expression changing to one of thanks a moment later as the waitress delivered their coffees, along with a biscuit each. He raised an eyebrow at her pink hair. It was up in a bun, plaited intricately. Interesting.
xXx
Three hours and no leads later, Jasper walked into the little café to use the loo. He wasn't sure if he needed it - all Aurors were trained to spend long hours in one place - but he was too bored and needed to stretch his legs. He nodded to the assistant behind the till, and noted her pink hair had changed slightly. Gone were the plaits, now her hair was down in waves over her shoulders. Odd, he thought.
His hand on the toilet door, he stopped, hearing Moody's voice ring out from the back of his mind - "Constant Vigilance! If someone looks different. Why? If something feels odd, go with it - find out why, and warn your bloody friends will you?"
Nodding to himself, he continued into the bathroom to not raise suspicions, turned on the tap, splashed some water, and waited long enough to make it look as though he had done something. Then he returned to his seat, walking as nonchalantly as possible.
"Alright? Still not-" Kingsley said, placing his newspaper down on the table next to his meal, which had been delivered in the time Jasper had taken to return.
"Inside, waitress," Jasper hissed quietly over the gentle chatter around them.
Kingsley barely moved, but Jasper could tell he was now on high alert.
Before Jasper could signal to Alice, who was now sitting outside another cafe just ten meters down the road, he registered a bang, and the whole street was thrown into chaos as the front of a building blasted outwards, showering everyone in brick, dust, and blackened smoke.
He was on his feet now, pushing at the backs of Muggles as they ran away from the source of the noise and smoke, while he ran towards it, his wand held out in front of him, his eyes darting this way and that.
He heard faint pops as cloaked figures appeared down the road, and sped up, shoving people out of the way now. He could see Alice already fighting, flinging spells left, right and centre as she fought three Death Eaters at once.
And then he was in the fray, casting spells, attacking, without thought to his own safety as he tried to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
Seconds wove into long minutes, the black smoke of the building engulfing the Death Eaters and the numerous Aurors who were still appearing as the fight wore on.
Jasper tried not to think about the fact that there were five of his colleagues lying around him in various stages of injury or death, and instead focussed his adrenaline on fighting.
Which was why, when silence descended and the sky suddenly cleared, he didn't realise that something had changed. He was still intently duelling two Death Eaters.
But then he noticed the slackened jaws of his colleagues, the bowed heads of the now stationary foes, and finally, he stopped. Throwing up a shield, he retreated to stand between Benji and Kingsley, and stared at the figure walking slowly through the small sea of hooded black figures.
Did Dumbledore know? When he sent the Order to spy here. Did he know that Voldemort would be there? Jasper strongly suspected that the answer was yes. Everyone had been confused when Dumbledore had asked them to keep an eye on this Muggle street. But now?
Voldemort came to a stop in front of his soldiers, arms thrown wide in front of him, a frightening smile playing on his snake-like face. His red eyes shone out of his unnaturally pale and distorted face, and Jasper swallowed down the bile which rose in his throat as he stared at one of the most evil men in the world.
Jasper wasn't afraid for himself. He'd come to terms with the fact that he might not survive this war a long time ago, and had trained himself harder and harder, devoted himself to fighting and being the best Auror that he could be. However, his weakness was, and always would be, other people. And he felt the fear rise in him as he thought of what Voldemort could do to his family, or to the other Aurors around him.
"I do not wish to shed more magical blood," Voldemort said, his voice carrying easily across the space between them. "Your brothers and sisters stand here with me today to bring one of our own back into our ranks. In celebration of her return, I offer you all a chance. Anyone who wishes to join me today may do so without recompense for their actions. Without recompense for defending the lives of filth."
A smattering of laughs, gasps, or coughs rang out from the cloaked figures standing behind their master.
Jasper's jaw locked, his hand clenched tighter around his wand. He didn't turn his head to see if anyone moved towards Voldemort - any self respecting Auror would stand their ground.
"Join me, and help usher in a new world for Wizardkind!" Voldemort said, his voice dangerously level. His nostrils flared, the only indication that he was anything but calm.
Jasper heard someone say, "No," and it was only when those red eyes were staring back into Jasper's brown that he realised it was he who had spoken.
"Name," Voldemort demanded.
Jasper didn't want to answer. He didn't want to say anything else as he stared back at his greatest enemy. Jasper had trained with Occulmency already. He was prepared. (In fact, he'd been so successful with his training that Dumbledore had asked him to begin teaching Bess how to control her mind and visions when she began schooling again in September. Only, she hadn't made it that long).
Nevertheless, he knew how to defend his mind - he could feel, now, the insistent mental probing as Voldemort attempted to access his memories and thoughts, but Jasper managed to keep him at bay. Just. His strength poured into keeping his mental blocks strong and in place.
"Jasper Serpen, my lord," someone called from behind Voldemort, who nodded, his eyes refusing to leave Jasper's.
"Serpen... Pureblood?" Voldemort asked with a tilt of his head.
"Half," the voice called again.
The waxy skin where Voldemort's eyebrow should have been twitched, revealing his interest. His eyes narrowed. He continued to stare at Jasper for a few moments longer, before Jasper felt Voldemort's mental probing stop suddenly, and the red eyes flicked away so that Voldemort could address the crowd once more.
Jasper didn't question why no one was moving forwards to capture Voldemort. That much was obvious - Jasper and his colleagues were horrendously outnumbered. Once Voldemort had stepped out Jasper had realised that they hadn't been winning the fight. They'd simply been allowed to continue to fight. And it didn't look as though Dumbledore was coming.
"You stand on the precipice of a new world. A world in which Wizards are not confined. Are not hidden away. Are not repressed. Join me," Voldemort said, his barely concealed anger seeping into every word.
Again, Jasper didn't look. He didn't need to. He knew that his colleagues wouldn't go. Voldemort's nostrils flared once more.
Footsteps.
Jasper's eyes flicked to the right when a figure moved forwards, walking towards the small mass of hooded figures slowly. He breathed in a sharp breath when he recognised the mass of blonde curls against red and white dress robes - Eleanor Jacobsby. A liaison with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He knew her from reputation - she'd been on secondment with the Auror department for a few months.
Kingsley's fist clenched at his side as Jacobsby bent her knees and ducked her head. Voldemort's lips curled, and it took a moment for Jasper to realise he was smiling.
Jacobsby moved behind the evil wizard. Before she was engulfed by the mass of black, Jasper saw her face change, from passive, to scared, and back. Could she be under the imperius curse? he wondered.
The unnatural silence fell over the crowd again, and Voldemort's eyes returned to Jasper's.
And then he was gone. And there were shouts and roars as Jasper and his fellow Aurors moved forwards to try and catch Death Eaters before they could escape.
xXx
Jasper was sat in his small cubicle, his desk covered in notes and files, his uniform disheveled. He could feel the bags under his eyes - evidence of his exhaustion.
It had been three days since the attack, and he had barely stopped. Once the Death Eaters had escaped or been rounded up, he'd apparated to his parents' house and warned them that Voldemort knew who he was, so they had to leave now. After a tearfilled goodbye, he'd taken a deep breath, and gone back to the office to help out. The only indication that anyone had been talking about what he'd said in defiance of Voldemort came when Moody clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded at him. No one else mentioned it.
It had taken a day for the finality of it all to sink in - that there was a good chance that he'd never see his parents again - and by then, Jasper had been in the midst of report writing, debriefings, interrogations and intelligence gathering, so he'd not had a chance to process everything properly. He knew that he would when he went home, so he'd done the obvious thing, and refused to go home. Instead, he'd put in even more overtime until his shift had officially started. All in an effort to distract himself.
He ran his hands through his hair and huffed, leaning back in his chair just as Frank's head popped around the cubicle opening, followed by the rest of his body a moment later. "Alright Pride of Britain. Didn't your shift end an hour ago?" he asked with a teasing smile.
Jasper groaned at the nickname. He'd been given a copy of The Daily Prophet the day before, in which he was referred to as 'The Pride of Britain,' and hailed as a hero once more. The article had greatly inflated his 'acts of heroism'.
"Uh, yeah. But Hassocks got a lead on Demitris Sagdar," Jasper replied with a long sigh. Sagdar was a nasty piece of work - he'd escaped custody twice, and was known for his Muggle baiting, torture and murder. He'd also been the main person Jacobsby had been tracking. "I said I'd have a look through the surveillance docs. See if anything came up."
"Interesting. And did it?"
"Not really," Jasper sighed, letting his quill drop on top of the stack of papers. He dragged his hands down his face, and when he looked up again, Alice had joined her husband. They shared a smile and he continued, "it's all rumours. The only thing I've got so far is that Sagdar was in the market for a Pogrebin last time he was in London. Finds it fun to set them on unsuspecting Muggles... there's a chance we could lure him back here and see what he knows if we could find one... see why Voldemort needs Jacobsby so urgently that he'd blow her cover like he did... but that's a level XXX creature so I've already had a no..."
"Merlin!" Alice said excitedly. "But we just confiscated one! It's still in processing with Zach down in creature control. Bet we could use it as bait. All right. Write up your recommendations for a sting and I'll get the ball rolling. If we're lucky we'll get approval in place to start tomorrow."
Jasper grinned. He needed a win, and Alice and Frank were an Auror powerhouse. If anyone could get approval for an operation that had already had numerous 'no's', it would be them.
"Sounds great, thanks Al," he said, shooting her an appreciative look.
He tried not to laugh when Frank rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath something which sounded like 'there goes my quiet evening'. Jasper thought Alice hadn't heard, but Frank jumped slightly and there was a soft slap as her hand connected with her husband's bottom.
"Have you gone home yet?" Alice asked Jasper when Frank had kissed her apologetically.
"No," Jasper sighed, and Frank whispered to Alice that he'd already asked that. "No, but I'll do this then go," he added, picking up his quill again.
"Good," Alice replied, chucking something on the desk in front of him. "Eat. You need it."
Jasper snorted as he looked at the colourful wrapper. "Droobles? This is gum, not food."
"Well it's the only thing I've got on me, and it's my last one. Just be glad I didn't eat it and chuck you the wrapper," Alice laughed.
"I now understand why I keep finding those in my pockets... I thought I was sleep-eating or something," Frank said, rolling his eyes, a happy smile on his face.
"Shh, you, they're gifts," Alice replied, and she placed a hand on her husband's chest, gently pushing him away. She lowered her voice to a whisper and turned back to Jasper, "and on your way home, he wants to see you. His office, ten minutes."
"What does Stenwick want with me?" he asked incredulously. The new Head of Department hadn't so much as said a word to any of them in months. He'd got his new position and then shut himself in his office, only surfacing for the photographers or to say that everything was fine, everything was under control. Lies.
"What? No. His office."
Jasper threw his head back and groaned. "Course. Sorry. Long day. Yeah, sure. Thanks Al. Have a good night guys."
xXx
Jasper stepped out of the fireplace and gently brushed down his trousers, looking around. The room was empty, save for Dumbledore's Phoenix, Fawkes. Smiling to himself, Jasper leant over to gently stroke the older bird's back, noting that it had begun its shedding, ready for its transition to a newborn once more. He'd only seen the process in person once - while he'd been waiting with Georgina Thompson, during their first term as Head Boy and Head Girl. While he'd stepped back in horror, she'd laughed and explained while fishing around in the ashes to hold the tiny bird in her hands.
"Ah, Jasper, how are you?" Dumbledore asked, stepping out of a door to the side of his desk. Jasper had always wondered if that was Dumbledore's loo or his bedroom.
"Fine, thanks. Longbottom said you wanted to see me?" he asked, knowing that neither he, nor Dumbledore really had any time for small-talk.
"Fine? After the attack? Are you sure?" Dumbledore pressed, raising a single eyebrow as he stopped by his own large office chair. "Your family?"
Jasper grimaced and nodded. "They're a long way away now. Haven't had contact since they left. It's for the best."
"And your sister? The Muggle doctor?"
"She left for America last month. It's just me now," he said, wishing Dumbledore would get to the point of why he was here. Did he really need to be confirming that Jasper was on his own now? That his only reason for fighting was now in the potentially vain hope that his family would be able to come back to England one day? Jasper stopped and frowned. Shifting his hands to his pockets, he stood up straighter and asked, "Sir, sorry, could I ask... I'm sure Moody said he'd already briefed you on the aftermath. Why am I here, exactly?"
"I was hoping to get round to that point rather slowly..." Dumbledore said quietly, and Jasper wondered if he'd meant to say it to himself, and not loudly enough for Jasper to hear. "Please, take a seat. I have some... some news for you which will-"
"You're leaving us?" Jasper asked firmly. He'd noticed Dumbledore's arm, everyone had, but he might have been the only one to put two and two together.
Dumbledore simply raised his eyebrow once more, and sank into his chair.
"Your arm," Jasper answered matter-of-factly, gesturing with his hand. "All points to a rather nasty curse. Has it spread yet?"
"No. Well... yes. It's in the process of doing so."
Jasper nodded and sat down in the seat across from his old Headmaster. "You're dying," Jasper said firmly. It wasn't so much of a question as a definitive statement. He could see the truth in Dumbledore's eyes before the older wizard replied. He recognised the look from when his grandfather had sat him down to explain his terminal condition.
"Yes."
Jasper sighed deeply, rubbed his chin, and sat back in his chair. "There's nothing to be done?"
"Alas, it is inevitable. I set a plan into motion too soon," Dumbledore replied somewhat cryptically, looking at his hand again. "It is a curse which has shortened my life by some twenty years."
"Twen- Twenty years? How would you-" Jasper stammered, before he pieced together the truth. "Bess told you something and you... you ignored her advice, didn't you?"
Dumbledore sighed and raised his hands to his temples.
Jasper wanted to say, 'So she trusted you with it all. She trusted you to know how to defeat Voldemort. And now you're going to leave us leaderless in the middle of the worst war we've seen since... since Grindelwald? We've been counting on you! We've been your soldiers, working on whatever information you've given us, never knowing the full picture, and you're leading us to the slaughter,' but he didn't. Instead, he shook his head and took in a deep breath. "We need you."
"Is that all you wanted to say?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "I admit, I was expecting stronger words. It is my own fault, after all. Too often old fools refuse to take the word of the young as gospel, and thus our downfall begins. I am leaving you leaderless because I was too hasty to attempt to secure the end of this war once Bess had been captured. It is, and always will be, my own doing. And I am very sorry, but now the plan must change, and now you will be a centre of it."
Jasper frowned and raised an eyebrow. "What plan?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled sadly. "Ah, alas, I cannot share all of that information just yet. But you will need to be prepared at a moment's notice. I must ask you to do something... something which may end with the loss of life."
"Whose?"
"Yours."
Jasper blinked. His family's faces raced through his mind. "This could end the war?"
"Yes."
"What do you need?"
A/N: This is a one off for Jasper! Want to continue his air of mystery, but I feel this is important!
In a review I was asked by BlueHairedRaven if we'll be seeing Bess any time soon - we will, please bear with me, her bit is a lot to write and I'm getting there! We're at about 2 chapters from her now - we'll be switching to her at Christmastime 1977. (Christmastime seems to be a very important part of her story!) Also, so sorry for the long wait on this chapter! Next chapter will be Hogwarts based.
Thank you so much to my reviewers, BlueHairedRaven - (thank you so much for rereading!), Aidarayyyyy, pearlrose33, KEZZ1, AvalonRivers, and Ghost Claw 001! If I haven't already, I'll respond to your reviews in the morning : )
And thank you to everyone reading, following and favouriting as well!