Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognise. Characters, places, spells – anything from the Harry Potter books are not mine. I am simply a poor student who had an idea that begged to be written!
Thanks to everyone who submitted a review!
Nikki101: I didn't really think about Peter when I wrote about that boy, but thinking about it now, he does sort of cling on like Peter would (in my opinion). He won't be in it for much longer anyway! Thanks!
HeartOfBlack: Hehe - 'though unlikely'! Thanks - 1 chapter was all that was here so far (until now!). Thanks for reviewing!
Danz: Update soon, you say? I am waiting for you to update still! Hehe - thanks!
Slytherin Rogue: I know writer's block is a killer! - I really should be writing the next chapter of an original story that I have, but I just can't! Thanks!
Pippy: Not sure whether it would've been something romantic. Thanks for reviewing and I hope you got the results that you wanted from your GCSEs!
moonanddogstar: Hehe - I was actually going to call him Sand because he appeared on the beach one day, or maybe even Sandstone - so San really isn't that weird! (Not as weird as Long Moon Silver anyway!). Thanks!
James' Duel
The island of repressed souls
As other people triggered his memories San started to become more sociable. In the weeks while he set about the immense task of building a decent boat, he found that the company of the other islanders bought change into his boring life. After the triggering of one memory, San longed for more and, in an attempt to achieve this, he asked the other islanders to call him James instead of Jason or San. He liked the name, it felt familiar, and the other islanders seemed to like him more for it. Picking his own name showed them, somehow, that he was genuine. To them, San sounded too anonymous. James suited Jason much better and made them feel that he was, in some way, accepting himself. And of course, the young lad who had been the first islander to call him James, felt important and altogether chuffed with himself.
James knew that James was his real name. However weird that sounded, the name, unlike Jason or San, felt like it was truly his. Though he hadn't yet had any more glimpses at his previous life, he knew that, when he did, people would call him James. Maybe he'd find out his last name too.
The first glimpse of his previous life had made him feel bad somehow. He thought that it should have felt good and maybe slightly fulfilling, but it made him feel hollower inside, like he'd lost something when he had apparently been gaining.
Out of the memory, he knew that the way that the redheaded girl had made him feel was his first taste of love, maybe his only taste.
Leaving the island to 'find' himself became a priority for James. He saw new people coming to the island and found himself feeling sorry for them. In his mind he renamed Rendakadavra 'the island of repressed souls'. Everyone who lived on the island had something bad in their past, some reason why they had left their other homes, painful reasons that they never spoke of. They kept it hidden inside and never let it escape. They couldn't bring themselves to shed tears. In flesh they were living on a paradise island, in theirs hearts they were living their own personal hells. James wanted to know what his was. However much it hurt, he needed to know.
The annual fireworks night on the island was something not to be missed, especially as James would almost certainly have left the island by the same time next year. Islanders gave things to Christoff, the island's only firework maker, in order to allow him to use his produce in public. James donated generously every year, as he loved fireworks. Christoff loved James' prank items and this was the main incentive for the firework display to be the best. Christoff wanted to show that he had as much talent, mysteriousness and ingeniousness about him as James. Everyone thought that Christoff's talent for firework displays was natural. It wasn't. It came from years of practise as an arsonist before he ventured to the island.
The arsonist part, without Christoff realising, was often reflected in the designs of his displays. Everyone immensely enjoyed the annual firework night and James became entranced by the dancing patterns and loud screeches that some of them emitted before they popped into a shower of sparkles in the dark night sky. He knew it was because they reminded him of something, but however much he tried to remember, he had no clue what it was.
The grand finale of green fireworks – green being the 'official Rendakadavra colour' – was, for most, the best part of the evening. Different types of green fireworks flew through the sky above the islanders, creating intricate patterns, which reminded James of the map from his first flashback. Fizzes, crackles, pops, screeches, wails, zips, squeals, and the general sounds of awe from the gathered crowd could be heard.
Then silence. The islanders stood in utter and complete amazement, staring up at the green skull with a snake protruding from it's mouth hanging above them, filling the black sky with it's eerie bright green. James was the only one who did anything. He turned and ran back to his house.
James saw the eerie green sign on an attack above the house of a family of innocent muggles, and though he was now almost accustomed to the terrible sight, he still felt sick to his stomach. He imagined the family and friends, the unknowingness and the huge gap that they would suffer from the wrath of Voldemort and his dodgy band of Death Eaters. He counted his blessings that none of his family had been killed.
But he couldn't remember who his family were.
The next flashback was triggered by something entirely different to the first and second and was, therefore, highly unexpected by James. As he walked past some houses he saw a woman standing in the doorway of one waiting for her husband to return home. In her arms she held a young boy. James found a memory coming to him as the boy's father returned home and swept him into his arms. He watched the young boy smile and gurgle happily, and became lost in the past.
James felt an immense rush of love and a strong desire to protect the baby that Lily had placed into his arms. The small weight of the baby was nothing compared to the weight of the responsibility that he felt. He had to protect his son from all the evils of the world and from Voldemort, no matter what. His son's hair bore a striking resemblance to his own. The baby blue eyes had yet to change colour, if they did at all, but he hoped that they would be like Lily's. He caught Lily smiling widely at him and knew that his smile was even wider. He felt happier than he had ever been before.
That was the memory that finally confirmed and decided for him that his wish to leave the island was right. He had to find out what had happened to Lily and his son, see if they were still alive and, if possible, get to know them again.
He set about constructing his leaving boat with renewed vigour, spending nearly every waking hour chopping wood, gluing, nailing and varnishing. Sometimes people watched him and admired him for facing up to his inner turmoil. Some just dismissed him as crazy.
James swapped his prank items and extra food for the materials that he needed to make the engine of his boat. He worked swiftly, in a rushed frenzy, but never made a mistake. Luckily, his engine design worked, leading him to suspect that he might have been a mechanic in his previous life. He dismissed this idea as quickly as it came to him, as he was quite sure that a mechanic would never have heard of muggles or Voldemort or Death Eaters, whatever they were. He had no time left for daydreams now, but if he had then he would have dreamt of being a detective or undercover agent of some sort.
Finally, after months of work, James' boat was ready to sail and fully seaworthy. He packed the few belongings that he wished to take with him, gave people his left over prank items as presents, and knocked down his house. Even though he had built it, he didn't feel attached to it in any way. One of the few rules that were in place on the island said that once a person left their house had to be knocked down. Otherwise, the house could become a place of residence for a temporary person, who didn't deserve it, and had absolutely no intention of staying.
James stepped aboard his magnificent boat and waved goodbye to the islanders that had gathered to wish him farewell. He turned on the engine, directed the boat away from the island and sailed towards his memory and the awful truth that awaited him in England.