Retrieval Failure

Chapter 3: Stolen

Summary:

James Potter and Lily Evans are young, in love and soon to be married. Life is, for want of a better word, peachy. But the profession of Aurors is a dangerous treacherous business as James finds out to his disadvantage when he witnesses a Dark Matter he really shouldn't have. Instead of killing him, Voldemort deals his enemy an even crueller blow … by erasing his memory. James has no recollection of his life long friends, his beautiful fiancé or, most importantly, what it was he witnessed. It really is a complete retrieval failure …

A/N: Hi guys, sorry about the lateness of this update, but I've got a new laptop! So hopefully updates will be more frequent now, as this one (fingers crossed) will not die. So hope you like this chappie. Rosie x

James felt the floor disappear beneath him, as though a solidly concrete rug had been abruptly pulled from under his unsuspecting feet. He heard wood splinter and shut his eyes tightly to protect them, throwing his arms over his head as he hit the floor about ten feet below. He landed on his side, a sharp pain shooting up from his ribs and debris showering him from above. Stunned for a few seconds and unable to move, James exhaled sharply, unaware of how much damage had been done. His brain desperately tried to shift into its gears as he suddenly realised; unless all of the Death Eaters above him had gone completely deaf in the last five seconds, the whole under-cover thing was over.

"Ouch …" he muttered to himself as he tried to push himself up. Once on his elbows, the rest was easy. A few deep cuts and scratches, a badly bruised side and a couple of broken ribs – he had got off lightly considering. Looking up, he saw the remainder of the staircase had collapsed, but not entirely disbanded. There were still some footholds he might be able to stand on in order to climb out of the pit as quickly as possible. Scrambling towards the left over stairs, he tested the first with his foot; it seemed stable enough if he pushed them against the grimy wall of which he could only imagine was the cellar below the ancient house.

Before long, his fingers gripped the edges of the hole he'd created. With the last ounce of strength he had left, James heaved himself out … only to find he was looking up at four deadly Death Eaters. Breath caught in his throat, James blinked.

"Uh huh," was all that came out of his mouth.

There was a trace of a smile playing around their lips, as though the outcome was a forgone conclusion of which they could only enjoy. James didn't think he'd ever been in a worse situation. Don't panic.

Lucius Malfoy, who James recognised immediately from photographs and a brief meeting prior to his becoming an Auror, stepped forwards.

"It's Potter, isn't it?" he muttered.

James eyed up the situation; there were four of them, all those he had seen before in the Auror Headquarters as headshots on the "dangerous" list. Great. He gripped his wand in his fingers tightly.

"We've met before, I believe," Malfoy went on. "Before you went off to become a hero."

"I don't think I even liked you then, you know," James retorted. Sarcasm was the only way to go.

"I would have thought that someone, even with a degree of intelligence as low as yours, would have realised that this is no situation for jokes." He turned his head into the shadows, apparently looking at someone that James could not see. "Wouldn't you agree, my Lord?"

Suddenly, as though he were made of nothing but ice, Voldemort materialised out of the shadows, a magnificent auror of power radiating around him. James felt a sharp pain in his head as the reality of the situation sank in. His palms were sweaty and he felt sick. He hadn't met Voldemort, the most powerful wizard that had ever lived, before. He had hoped that their meeting would be in his favour when it occurred. Numerous scenarios of escape ran through his mind, each of them more unlikely than the first.

"It's ironic, Mr Potter," Voldemort hissed. "We were just talking about you."

"Uncanny," James said in a higher pitched voice than he would have believed his vocal chords possible.

"Now, what I'm wondering, is how long exactly you were standing in your most unfortunate hiding place before you, er, lost your footing."

The Death Eaters sniggered.

"Does it matter?" said James. "I mean, as though you're going to kill me less."

"No, not really I suppose," Voldemort said, nostrils flaring. "Curiosity, you must forgive me, James. It is James, isn't it?"

"My friends call me James. Mass murdering evil psycho-pots call me Mr Potter," said James, thinking of as many spells as he could.

"Still a little spunk left? How plucky –"

But James struck in that second, the split second he had been waiting for, when all his enemies appeared less than tense, less than prepared for the worst. He yelled the most powerful stunning spell he could think of and with an upward flick of his wand which Dumbledore had taught him, tried to magnify its effect by three, in order to hit all five of them. A huge purple haze fogged everything, right before his wand erupted with the force of ten fireworks, each bright gold beam of light hitting and ricocheting the four Death Eaters and Voldemort. The four staggered backwards and hit the stone walls forcefully. Voldemort appeared the least affected, only momentarily losing his balance, but James had expected this. He quickly fired a gold eruption of stunning spells in Voldemort's direction, all of which were deflected, and James was forced to dive behind a toppled pillar within the hall.

Two Death Eaters were on their feet, wands out, advancing. "Stupefy!" they hollered at the pillar, which broke into a thousand fragmented pieces. James had moved just in time to avoid completely being blown to bits, but couldn't shield himself from the broken pieces. One bit hit him on the side of his head, and for one second, white pain erupted in front of his eyes. Unaware he was falling, more pain from where he hit the hard ground exploded in his side. Feeling nauseous, he willed himself not to pass out completely. You really want to die, James? Get the hell up!

He staggered to his feet, just as Voldemort uttered his spell. Oh bugger.

"Imperio!"

James blinked. He tried desperately to move his feet, but the spell held him fast.

"No, you really don't want to move, Mr Potter. You'd quite like to stand exactly where you are, in fact. And tell me what you heard."

James felt words spilling out of his mouth, without willing them in the slightest. With all his might he willed himself to stop. The Death Eaters were sniggering harshly; he was making his situation worse, stop, stop, stop it now! And suddenly, he did.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not saying any more."

"Oh dear, that is unfortunate. And I was going to ask you all about Dumbledore's plans. Such a pity if you won't say anything."

"I could make him say something, my Lord," Malfoy uttered from the shadows, clutching his injured arm.

"That won't be necessary, Lucius, thank you. I have a better idea."

Silence fell on the company, James desperately trying to stay upright as the pain in his head gave a particularly nasty throb and he almost retched.

"I think we ought to alter Mr Potter's memory. Permanently."

All of the Death Eaters except Malfoy smiled cruelly. Malfoy stepped forwards, albeit tentatively. "May I suggest, my Lord that simply ending his life would suffice?"

"You may suggest it, Lucius, but I shall not listen, as you well know. No, I don't think we need kill Mr Potter. In erasing his memory, he will never tell anybody what he heard, which was indeed too much. Death would be too kind. In time, he may even be well turned into somebody else. Somebody willing to work for the Dark side, in fact."

"Never," James whispered.

"Never say never, James," said Voldemort softly. "I think that you may possibly be a very good asset. Once you've had time to … adjust … after the little hole I'm going to make, you might feel differently."

Malfoy stepped forward even further. "My Lord, we don't need him."

"Lucius, if you do not retire very quickly, I'm going to have to remind you why it is that I am your superior." Malfoy shrank back. "Now relax, Mr Potter. Just a small … spark …"

And in the split second that James heard the last word, everything went black. He wasn't aware of gravity at all, he could have been floating on air. Image after numerous image flashed before his eyes in the darkness, but none so clear that he could make them out. It was as though everything was falling out of his head in a ghostly echo. And then, all too quickly, it was gone and he was aware of the cold stone floor of which he now lay in darkness, for Voldemort and the Death Eaters had actually left three hours previously.

A/N: Really am sorry about that wait guys. What will happen when Lily finds him? Oh lord the tension. Please will you review? Pretty please? I've forgotton what they look like!