Author's Notes: It's cheesy, I know, but what're you gonna do? (Hides in shame.) Nothing much happened here, either, but it had to get written. It might get changed. The story'll get better later, I hope.
Chapter 4:
Great, thought Harry. So either Voldemort really did bring the sixteen-year-old versions of my father, Sirius, and Remus up from the past, or else I'm missing something really big. What was he supposed to do now?
He didn't have his wand, and even if he did, it probably wouldn't have done him much good. He had a nasty feeling, mostly from the way Lucius had strolled around the place earlier, that he was in Malfoy Manor, and Lucius Malfoy could be counted on to make his dungeons impenetrable. He could feel the tell-tale tingle of Anti-Apparation wards. That left his set of emergency portkeys.
He had been searched earlier, and Malfoy had taken both his standard set of Order portkeys, as well as his backup set, in the form of a couple pieces of change, but he had overlooked the extra set Dumbledore had insisted Harry carry at all times. Harry had thought it was overkill at the time, but he was glad he had listened to Dumbledore now… always assuming, of course, that portkeys even worked in this place.
So… the lint in his right-hand pocket was the portkey to headquarters, which was out of the question. He was not going to portkey there; even if these people, (Harry winced), were genuine, there was always the chance that the route would be traced. This was lucky, in a way, as Harry had serious doubts as to the ability of four people to travel by a portkey that consists of half a handful of lint. His right shoelace was the portkey to the Dursleys, and one he never intended to use, no matter the circumstances. That left the spare piece of thread in his left pocket. He took it out and looked at it dubiously. Christmas break didn't end for another two days, at least, and everybody had gone home for the holidays; Hogwarts would be empty except for Dumbledore…
Harry looked up at his companions; all three of them were starin at him with their mouths open.
***
This was too much. Sirius wondered at the possibility of this all being an elaborate butterbeer-induced hallucination. He'd never passed out on a date before, but then there was a first time for everything.
"You look just like James!" he blurted out stupidly.
The James-look-alike was now holding a piece of string in his left hand, and with the light shining directly in his face, his resemblance to Sirius' best friend was uncanny, despite the few inches difference in their heights. He shifted uneasily at Sirius' words.
"Uh, right," he said, and waved the piece of thread at them. "Look, when I say so, everyone touch this piece of string."
"Why?" James asked dubiously. He looked understandably unnerved, but seemed to have taken the stranger's cue to ignore their resemblance, in light of the circumstances.
"It's a portkey." The stranger answered curtly, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"A portkey to where?" asked Remus apprehensively.
"To Hogwarts."
"But what about Peter?" said Sirius.
The James-look-alike stared back at him. Unlike James' his eyes were green. "Peter?"
"Peter Pettigrew," supplied James. "Our friend, he was with us…"
"Where is he now?"
"How are we supposed to know?" burst out Sirius, who was starting to get seriously annoyed with the whole situation. "We don't know anything!" The wizard obviously knew why he looked like James; if he really was on their side, why wasn't he telling them anything?
"There's nothing we can do about that at the moment…" he said finally, his brow furrowed and chewing his lip nervously.
Sirius would have debated that statement, but just then the door at the end of the dungeon opened again, and after the initial burst of light in walked the tall, blond Death Eater, sneer planted firmly on his pale, pointed face. He looked vaguely familiar to Sirius.
James-number-two turned his back on the Death Eater and shook the piece of thread he was still holding in his hand pointedly. Sirius took hold of the other end immediately; maybe it had something to do with his resemblance to his best friend, but as creepy as he was, Sirius was still more inclined to trust this stranger than the pale probably-Death Eater who had brought them to this dungeon, and who was now strolling towards them.
"What about Peter?" asked Remus halfheartedly, but he and James followed Sirius' example.
"Potter, what are you doing?" asked the Death Eater, who was quiet close now and suddenly suspicious, his wand raised, but it was too late. The green-eyed James had thrown the ball of light over his shoulder at the startled Death Eater before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'I love Professor Snape,' and the dungeon dissolved around them in a whirl of color as the familiar hook grabbed hold around Sirius' naval.
Author's Notes: Yay! I have 5,000 words!