Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all his friends (and enemies) are the brain-child of J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them. Exclusive ownership belongs to JKR, Arthur A. Levine Books and Scholastic Inc. Jane Sinclair and all additional characters belong to me. You belong to yourself.


Freedom's just another word

For 'nothing left to lose'…

Me And Bobby McGee, Janis Joplin

Chapter Sixteen – Nothing Left to Lose

where the Order is at a loss and Jane has to rely on herself…

At number twelve Grimmauld Place, the members of the Order of the Phoenix had come together for an emergency meeting. The wizards and witches had all squeezed into the kitchen and were standing around the large kitchen table. All eyes were fixed on one solitary object sitting in the middle of the table – Colin Creevey's camera.

"Who found him?" Lupin asked quietly, breaking the grave silence that hung over the room. His face was drawn and there were deep rings under his eyes. He looked years beyond his age.

"I did," Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke up. The normally jovial man was unusually subdued. "I don't think he suffered."

"That'll console his parents," Tonks scoffed miserably, her hair pitch black this evening, reflecting her grief.

Remus, who was standing beside her, put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. He briefly touched his lips to her temple, conveying his affection and comfort. From across the table, Severus watched that innocent gesture with a mixture of disgust and envy. It was unfair that his old nemesis, the werewolf, should have love and happiness in his life, when he did not. He hated Remus for having taken what had been offered to him, for taking a chance on love, when he had not. Lupin, he thought disdainfully, had never been a risk-taker. He had always let Potter and Black lead the way and jump into trouble, while he watched from a safe distance. He, Severus, on the other hand, was constantly taking risks. For years he had been a spy, and a damn good one. He had survived on his instincts and his talent for quickly assessing a situation and acting accordingly. Why then, had he been unable to take a chance on Jane? She had asked nothing of him, but to share himself with her – body and soul. Severus frowned. And therein lay the problem. He had done many things as a Death Eater and spy he wasn't proud of. He had been afraid that the truth about him would disgust and frighten her. He had been afraid that if he shared his innermost secrets with her, she would have stopped loving him. And he could not have lived with that. As things were, and if Jane was still alive, she would hate him. And that he could live with.

"What about Jane?" he asked brusquely, disconcerted by the turn his thoughts had taken.

"We don't know," Shacklebolt sighed. "We used a Tracing spell, but it didn't lead us far. Her abductors must have Disapparated with her. We only found Colin and their Portkey. I imagine she'd slipped it to him, so he could escape, but it was too late."

"So they were Death Eaters?"

Shacklebolt nodded. "I'm afraid so." He pulled a photograph from his robe and laid it on the table next to the camera. "The last picture Creevey took showed Jane being held by Bellatrix Lestrange and Gordon Grant." His lips twitched slightly. "She certainly didn't go willingly."

Severus leaned closer to study the picture. It was taken at an awkward angle, as though it had been taken from a prone position. He wondered briefly, whether the camera was set off as it fell to the ground. But that wasn't the issue, he reminded himself. Jane, in Muggle clothes, was struggling against her captors, who were grinning triumphantly. She looked into the camera, horrified, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Suddenly, she elbowed Grant into his midsection and kicked him backwards into the shin. Severus' lips twisted into a proud smile as Grant doubled over, obviously in pain. That was his Jane.

"If the Dark Lord has her," he said, straightening slowly, "we may still have a chance."

Excited whispers erupted in the kitchen.

"He wanted her taken alive," Severus explained, "because he wants to know her secret."

The murmurs grew louder. Severus glowered them back into silence.

"I trust," he drawled, "the name Clara Fenton sounds familiar?"

Noise erupted as the members of the Order voiced their surprise and shock.

"Indeed," Severus informed them. "Jane Sinclair and Clara Fenton are one and the same woman. Jane… Clara… was banished from the Wizarding world fourteen years ago, because she killed a teacher. Tristan Beadle. But that…" He had to raise his arms to command silence, as the voices became loud again. "That was not the true reason for her banishment. The reason was the way by which Beadle met his fate. In a desperate act of self-defense and self-preservation, Jane conjured a Killing Spell to protect herself from her teacher, who had viciously raped her."

Molly Weasley looked faint. Her pale face was wrinkled with worry and shock. "Oh dear, oh dear," she muttered. "The poor child." Her husband squeezed her arm consolingly.

Tonks looked up questioningly at Remus, who nodded in confirmation. She took the information in stride. "Blimey."

"Indeed," Severus commented dryly, fixing her with a dark glare. "The point is," he addressed the group once more, "if she is with the Dark Lord, she is safe for the moment. He will keep her alive until he's uncovered her secret. We must act quickly, however. The Dark Lord can get… impatient."

McGonagall nodded gravely. "Yes, thank you, Severus, for telling us about Jane, and, erm, giving us some hope. Now, I believe our first task is to find out where exactly she has been taken…"

"We are on it, Minerva," Arthur Weasley spoke up. "I've managed to convince the Ministry to let us borrow some of their Aurors who are specialized in tracking…"

"And we are still searching the area where Creevey was found," Shacklebolt threw in. "We haven't looked during the day, yet. Something is bound to come up."

"Good... good." Minerva nodded in agreement. Her eyes fell on Severus, who had suddenly turned pale. "Severus?"

Before he could answer her, he dropped to the floor, unconscious.

---

Jane awoke to utter darkness, and the first thing she became aware of was her aching body. Her muscles were sore and she had a splitting headache. She gingerly reached to the back of her head and sucked in her breath with a hiss when she palpated a large painful bump. She tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea swept over her and dizziness blurred her vision. Jane lay back and waited for her stomach to settle. Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, but she still wasn't able to make out anything. She knew she was lying on a bed – she could feel it – but that was all. She tried again, and this time Jane was able to sit up. She groaned as her body protested the slight movement. What had happened to her? Her head was throbbing and she brought her hands to her head, while she tried to recall the events that had brought her here – wherever that might be. As she rubbed her temples, she wished it were Severus' fingers that were massaging her pain away. Severus…

Jane sighed. She wondered whether he would miss her. There had been times in the last month or so, when she'd thought he cared. Something in his eyes, something in the way he'd regarded her… had made her suspect… She sighed again, slowly shaking her head. He had never told her how he'd felt about her. She hadn't wanted to give him an ultimatum, to pressure him into saying what he hadn't been ready to say. However, when he had said what he'd said, she'd had enough. Jane regretted their fight, but his thoughtless words had stung. Once more he'd hidden his true feelings from her, had excluded her from his life, and suddenly Jane had known that it would always be like that. He would never truly let her close, always keep her at arm's length. Suddenly, she'd realized that she wanted – no, deserved – more.

Severus would probably miss their nightly activities, she thought wryly. Miss having a willing woman in his arms. Ultimately, though, he would put her out of his mind as his life returned to its regular rhythm. Severus liked things to be ordered and uncomplicated, and she had upset his life not little. Tears welled up in her eyes. Maybe he had been right with his accusations. After the years of loneliness, having somebody in her life may have gone to her head. She had reveled in the knowledge that someone wanted her. Jane groaned. Had she been too demanding and inconsiderate of his feelings? She sighed. He had so readily dismissed her, she doubted it would have made any difference one way or another. Still, she would miss this difficult man, and she doubted that she would ever get over him.

Jane angrily rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. Prioritize, she told herself. Her problems with Severus really shouldn't be her biggest concern right now. An involuntary giggle tickled her throat. Only in her twisted mind would her relationship problems take precedence over being kidnapped by Voldemort's minions. If she ever made it out of here alive, she would have to check herself into St. Mungo's. Voldemort. She quickly sobered at the thought of him. When the Death Eaters had attacked her and Colin… When? Tonight? Last night? Jane had no idea. She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious and this infernal darkness made it impossible to tell whether it was day or night.

Colin, she thought miserably. Dear, trusting, helpful, cheerful Colin. The Death Eaters had killed him before he even knew what had hit him. His murder had been so senseless, so casual – his young life had meant nothing to them. Jane wrapped her arms around her body and began to rock back and forth, tormented by guilt. It was her fault he was dead. She had been responsible for him. She should have protected him. But the attack had been so sudden, so unexpected – they had been caught completely off guard. They had finished their mission in London, enjoying the vibrant city and all the exciting sights, smells, and sounds it had to offer, and had been about to use their Portkey, when a handful of hooded wizards and witches had descended upon them and dragged them off into a nearby alley. Colin had been killed straight away. He'd never really had a chance to be afraid, but that was a small comfort. She remembered watching him fall and his camera flashing one last time, as though, even in death, he had wanted to capture the events around him. She didn't remember anything that occurred after the flash, but judging from the bump on her head and her aching body, it hadn't been pleasant.

She shivered and wrapped her leather jacket more tightly around herself, wishing she was wearing her warm wool cloak. Her trip to London had required her and Colin to wear Muggle clothing, and for their mission it had been adequate. But now she was freezing. Jane swung her arms about to get the circulation going. When that didn't help, she got to her feet, and ignoring the pounding and spinning inside her head, she felt her way about her prison. It seemed to be a small room, she concluded after having made one full circle back to the bed, devoid any furniture other than the bed. She hadn't felt any windows, only a door, which, of course, had been locked and most likely magically warded. She tried to Disapparate, but she was still too riled up from her escapade and her concentration kept slipping. Even during her lessons, Disapparating had required her utmost attention and focus, and she still had problems with it.

If only she had some light, she thought, so she could see where she was being held captive… It would help her think of a way to escape, and even if she couldn't do that, she would feel less desolate and helpless. Jane patted down her pockets. Of course, they would have taken her wand. She scolded herself for being so naïve as to believe they would have left it with her. She supposed she could have summoned it, but there was no way it would be able to penetrate the solid walls or magical wards. Come on, think, she told herself. You don't need a wand for this. Jane gave a frustrated sigh and began to gnaw on her lower lip. Her magic had improved vastly over the last few months, thanks to Lupin and other members of the Order, who had taken over her instruction after Severus went to Azkaban. However, even she knew that powerful magic could be nonverbal, but never wandless. Or could it? She had never heard or read of such a thing. And, yet, the spell she had conjured to kill Beadle had been wandless. She could try it. After all, she had nothing to lose.

"Lumos!"

Nothing. Jane sighed and tried again. She concentrated determinedly and put her most fervent wish into words.

"LUMOS!"

A faint flicker of light shot from her hand and spread eerily across the walls, briefly illuminating the room. The light was gone as quickly as it had appeared, but Jane had seen the recessed fireplace in the corner. She felt her way to it through the dark and knelt down in front of the grate. Heedless of the soot and ashes she reached inside and almost wept with joy, when her fingers brushed over a log of dry firewood. She closed her eyes and concentrated on a nice warm flame.

"Incinero!"

A few small sparks lit up briefly, but the log didn't catch on fire. Jane cursed under her breath and tried again, with little more success. Frustrated, she checked her pockets again, and grunted triumphantly when she came up with a few crumpled receipts and a couple of scraps of paper – memos to herself.

"Aha," she said into the empty room. "This might work."

"INCINERO!"

The papers in her hand caught fire and she hastily dropped them into the fireplace, keeping her fingers crossed. A big grin spread over her face, when her efforts were soon rewarded by the crackling sound of a cozy fire. She stretched out her hands and happily wriggled her fingers against the warmth, sighing with pleasure as she felt the circulation return to her digits.

Jane couldn't remember how long she'd stood like this, staring into the fire, soaking up the heat into her frigid body. She had felt oddly drained after performing her wandless magic, and it had taken forever to feel warm again. The log was quickly burning down, and she turned away with a regretful sigh. The light from the fireplace bathed the small chamber in faint orange light. She had been right. The only piece of furniture was a prominent four-poster bed.

"Right," she said out loud and pushed up her sleeves.

She took quick aim and, with one forceful kick, broke one of the bed posts. It came tumbling down with a clunk, and she froze for a moment, listening intently for approaching footsteps. When none sounded, Jane picked up the pieces of scrap wood and threw them onto the fire, which greedily welcomed the extra sustenance. The temperature in the room quickly rose a few degrees.

Jane dropped on the floor in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames. Now, she had to think of a way out. She watched the flames dancing cheerfully in the hearth, sending sparks and ashes up the chimney. Suddenly, she started. Up the chimney! She should have thought about that earlier. She could have climbed out the chimney! Well, she admitted after a moment's contemplation, she could have tried. She gnawed on her lower lip, deep in thought. Then she perked up. There was something else she could do! She recalled a little trick Remus had taught her. There may come a time, when you need to see through walls, he had told her, either to spy or to detect potential traps. I have found it a useful thing on several occasions in the past.

Jane scrunched up her face, trying to recall the spell. She focused on the wall across from her.

"Fenestra abscondia!"

She felt her strength drain from her body and knew immediately that her spell had worked. A small circle appeared at eyelevel, and the wainscoting within its demarcation began to dissolve. Jane stepped closer and peered through the peephole she'd created. Beyond the wall lay another room, filled with furniture hidden under dusty sheets, but illuminated by a tall window. So, she thought, it was day. She wondered how long she had been unconscious. Her watch had been broken during the attack, and being imprisoned in the windowless room had completely upset her sense of time. Jane gnawed on her lip again. Daylight definitely complicated things. The chances of discovery were higher. On the other hand, now she wouldn't have to worry about breaking her neck while sneaking about in the dark. She didn't even bother with the other walls of her prison. She had found one potential escape route, and she would take it. Jane hated to have choices. Now, if only she could remember the spell that would create a hole in the wall, a portal of sorts, as silently as possible.

"Porta pora…" She broke off. "Damn."

Why couldn't she recall the final portion of the incantation? "PortaPara…"

Jane tried several more times, until she was out of breath. "Open Sesame!" she finally yelled, frustrated with her lack of success. Nothing happened. "Oh, just fucking open!"

She took a deep breath, collecting herself.

"OK, Jane, you can do it," she said out loud. "Concentrate." She closed her eyes, thinking back to Remus' lesson. She took another deep breath. Suddenly, the words took shape in her mind.

"Porta patens," she whispered.

Once again, she focused on the wall. "Porta patens!" she called wearily.

The wall became translucent before her eyes. Jane stepped forward and put her hand against the quivering image, and it went straight through. Enormously pleased with herself, she stepped through the opening. As soon as she was safely in the storage room, the wall behind her solidified again. Jane smiled. It was a good thing she hadn't dawdled. She went to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. So much for that. She next tried the window. It looked out onto a courtyard covered with white gravel. From what she could tell, she was on the second floor of what seemed a country manor. Beyond the courtyard, there was nothing but green grass with an occasional tree thrown in to break up the monotony. A flock of sheep was grazing in the distance. Jane peered down again, calculating quickly. Two stories, make that three with the ground floor, would be… she frowned, adding the feet. Too many, she finally determined. Too high up, in any case. But she would have to get down there somehow. Her gaze fell upon the sheets covering the furniture and she smiled.

Half an hour later, Jane tested the knots of the makeshift rope one last time. She nodded to herself. It would have to do. She just hoped it would be strong enough to hold her and long enough to reach the ground. She tied one end to the enormous four-poster bed in the corner and dropped the sheets out the window. Jane took a deep breath before she climbed onto the window sill. This was it. With one quick prayer, she swung her legs out of the window. Forcing herself not to look down, she began her descend. It was more difficult than she'd imagined. Her arms, weak from tying all those sheets together, and her bruised body, exhausted from the magic she had done, were protesting with every move she made. Only her determination to escape prevented her from plummeting to the ground. If she ever made it back home, she would have to write Hollywood a couple of decided letters. They made everything look deceptively easy.

She didn't let go of the rope until her feet safely touched the ground. Rubbing her arms, Jane quickly looked around, taking in the dilapidated exterior of what once must have been a magnificent manor house. She frowned. The building seemed vaguely familiar. She felt a sense of déjà vu come over her. Jane crossed the courtyard and looked at the house from another angle. Then she remembered. She had dreamt of this place. Once – a long time ago. As curious as she was, however, she had no desire to remain here any longer. She had to get back to Hogwarts and warn Remus and the others. She took off at a brisk pace, walking as quickly as her aching body would let her.

Jane had just cleared the courtyard and was now walking through the gates, when she beheld the green pastures beyond and realized the vast distance she would have to cover. She had miles to go and nowhere to hide. Jane muttered an oath under her breath and quickened her steps, hurrying away from that sinister looking house. Suddenly, she felt a strange tingling at the back of her neck, as though someone was following her. Three ravens flew past her, and she shielded her hands against the afternoon sun to watch their flight. To her dismay, however, the three birds returned only moments later to circle overhead, cawing loudly. Two of them stayed behind, while the third one flew back to the manor. Jane tried to continue on her way, but with every step she took, the ravens brazenly barred her way, swooping down on her, clawing at her face and her clothes.

Jane panicked. They would soon come after her, and no doubt she would be punished for escaping. Once again, she tried to Disapparate – in vain. She stared up at the ravens and extended her hand, palm out.

"IMMOBILUS!"

The two birds slowed down for a moment, but quickly returned to normal. Infuriated by her attempt to freeze them, the ravens became more vicious. Jane cursed again. Her magical powers were drained. If she didn't get her hands on a wand soon, she'd be completely helpless. Her wand! Why hadn't she thought of it earlier? She had escaped her prison with its magical wards, and there was nothing curbing her now. Jane summoned her wand, and soon it came whizzing through the air and landed in her outstretched hand. She quickly immobilized the two vicious birds and Disillusioned herself. That, at least, she could do.

Feeling more confident again, Jane hurried towards one of the rolling hills in the distance. She had almost made it, when a familiar cold tingling sensation went through her body – her Disillusionment Charm was wearing off! She cursed and picked up her pace, when she suddenly was jerked back as though she'd been lassoed by an invisible rope. On the ground, Jane quickly rolled over onto her stomach and stuffed her wand down the front of her blouse. She only hoped that if they frisked her, they would think it was part of her underwire bra. Cruel hands grabbed hold of her and hauled her to her feet.

"Well, well, well," one of her captors spat at her as he grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted her head so she faced him. "Miss Sinclair… Leaving already?"

Jane winced but refused to cower. She recognized the man holding her. He had been one of the Death Eaters restraining her in the alley behind The Leaky Cauldron. Bellatrix Lestrange had called him Gordon. Gordon Grant. She also recalled bringing him to his knees once before. Without warning, Jane reached between his legs and twisted hard. Grant gave an unmanly squeak and let go of her. The other wizard scoffed disdainfully at the downed man and quickly immobilized her before she could reach for her wand. He waved his wand once more, and impenetrable magic ties wound tightly around her.

"No one escapes the Dark Lord!" he informed her coldly, keeping his wand trained on her.

He lifted her casually into the air and directed her back towards the house. Ignoring the still kneeling and whimpering wizard, he followed Jane's floating form.

"Come on, Grant," he called over his shoulder.

Unable to shake off her bonds, Jane desperately thought of a way to send a message to the Order. In the end, she did the only thing she could think of – she called for Severus.

---

In the kitchen at number twelve Grimmauld Place, Severus slowly came to and was helped up by the two wizards who had been standing next to him. As soon as he was on his feet, he wrapped his robes about him with an impatient jerk and quickly stepped away from their helpful hands. Jane's vision had caught him by surprise, to say the least. She had called out to him, her mind overflowing with desperation and pain. He scowled. She was still alive, but it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord would tire of her. He straightened slowly, the image of the forbidding ancient manor house in the middle of nowhere still fresh in his mind. He had recognized it immediately. Voldemort had told him about it once.

"I think…," he began calmly, squarely meeting the curious glances that were directed at him, "I know where they may have taken her."

"Good." Remus smiled and pulled Severus aside. "Because I have a plan."

---

Hours later, Severus dressed with meticulous care. It helped him focus on what lay ahead. It was likely that he would be going to his death, but he was willing to take that chance. For if he lost Jane, he had nothing left to live for.


Lost and Found © 2005 by MMHG