Disclaimer: I own what you do not recognize, J.K. owns the rest.
A/N: And at last, inspiration has struck….actually, it was the review I got today that really spurred me into action – so thanks for all your input, people! Much like last time, this will confuse you even further, and skip wildly through space and time. It's a shorty, but necessary so you get certain key facts. Enjoy! (I hope) note: this is a repost, with some dates added for clarification. This story isn't just a bunch of rambling – it all links together, I promise!
Of Cowards and HeroesChapter 3
England, 1980"Just…get her away – get it away, Michael. I don't care what you do."
The eight-year-old girl looked up at the elegantly dressed woman, eyes wide with horror. She couldn't possibly be referring to her, could she? Just the day before, some men had come to the house, poking and prodding her for the better part of an hour, running all kinds of spells, whilst her mother and father watched from the door. Then the men had left, their faces grave as they informed her parents that they'd send the 'results' the next day.
And now, here she was, her father yanking her roughly down the grubby side street. They must have apparated, she thought, longing for the day when she was finally old enough to apparate. Suddenly they turned down a small alleyway, and she was shoved against a wall, the coat she was wearing pulled off of her before she had a chance to protest.
"Daddy?" she asked, perplexed. "Daddy? What's going on?"
Before she knew it, she was on the ground, reeling from the slap across her face. "Don't call me that!" her father hissed. "You have no right to call me that! You've already ruined my life once – you won't do it again!"
"Daddy!" she cried this time, tears running down her cheeks as he turned and walked swiftly down towards the end of the alley. "Daddy!"
"You're not my daughter, understand?" the tall, black-haired man had turned around, eyes gleaming malevolently. "You're nothing."
He spun back around, his robe swirling around him seconds before he apparated, disappearing into thin air before her disbelieving eyes.
A few minutes later, an old, dirty looking man came into the alley, rifling through the piles of rubbish there, She shrunk back, his noisy disturbance knocking her out of her shock. As she watched him, she began to smirk, pitying him, the Muggle, without any…magic…She sat up ramrod straight, knocking over a bag in the process.
"Eh?" the man said, startled. "Who's there?"
When nobody answered, he went back to his work, soon finding what he was looking for and shuffling out of the alley. Left by herself in the gloom, she finally knew the truth. She was a squib. And now, Adéla Zabini was all alone.
Hogwarts, 1972
"Prongs?"
Sirius frowned. He'd just proposed what he thought to be an absolute stroke of genius – an idea that he'd been certain would have his best friend practically running down to the Slytherin dormitories to carry it out. Yet there had been no response from James's bed.
"Prongs, you prat – were you even listening to me?"
When there was still no answer, Sirius stormed over to James's bed, yanking the curtains open. "Oi! Potter! I'm your best mate! You can't just…Prongs? Er, James?"
James was sitting silently on the edge of his bed. "They're dead." He whispered, so quietly that Sirius wasn't sure if he'd heard properly.
"James?" he asked again, much more subdued. "Did you just say…"
"Abby. Ellen. Aunt Juliana. Ellen was looking after Abby for mum and dad, and she took her to see Aunt Jules…and…"
Whoa, Sirius thought, this was not the time to talk about pranking the Slytherins. "James? Do you…do you, I dunno, do you…want to…er…"
James slowly turned his head to look at Sirius, his face aged beyond its twelve years with exhaustion. "Maybe….maybe you could just leave me alone for a bit, Padfoot."
Sirius's mouth was suddenly dry, and so he simply nodded, silently leaving the room. Shaking his head, he walked heavily down the stairs, greeted at the bottom by Remus and Peter.
"Hullo – Padfoot?" Remus face quickly took on a concerned expression at the lack of exuberance his friend was displaying. Peter eyed him nervously, expecting an outburst about Sirius's extreme dislike of his family.
"Don't go upstairs yet," he said, pulling them towards a quiet area of the common room. "Prongs just got some news from home…you know his little sister, Abigail?"
They nodded, and he took a deep breath, continuing. "Well, James's cousin Ellen was looking after her – and he said that they went to see her mum, his aunt Jules-"
"Wait a second," Peter interrupted. "Isn't that his Aunt Juliana? The one who's a Malfoy?"
Remus frowned, and Sirius stared at Peter. Who knows, he thought. Maybe that's why...
"Well, she was a Malfoy." He said slowly. "They're all dead, now."
Canada, 1994
"Oh, come on, not now!" The young woman sighed with frustration, uselessly turning the key over and over again, each time to no avail. "Don't die on me now, baby!"
Suddenly a tap at her window made her look up into the smiling face of a youngish looking man. Eyeing him cautiously, she decided that he looked fairly harmless, and finally rolled down the window a crack, not trusting him to open it fully.
"Hi," he said, still grinning, lopsidedly, and she rolled her window down further. "I couldn't help but notice that you're having trouble starting your car."
"Oh, yeah," she turned the key again. "My battery is dying on me."
"I think it may be already dead," he told her. "But I can fix that. You hang on there, and I'll just hook your battery up, alright."
She sagged with relief. "Oh, thank you."
Soon he finished and she turned her key, the engine rumbling into life. "You are a lifesaver," she told him, flipping her hair out of her face as she smiled gratefully. "Honestly, if there's anything I can do for you…just let me know."
"Well, know that you mention it," his eyes twinkled at her, and while she felt slightly nervous, something about him was holding her attention like no man had done before. "You know Sharon's? On Wentworth Street? How about having lunch with me there tomorrow?"
She stared at him for a second, before rolling her eyes and laughing. "Well, alright…I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"James Potter," he told her, ruffling his rather messy black hair, and she found herself struck with a sudden urge to ruffle it herself. "And you are?"
"Adéla," she told him.
"Just Adéla?" he smirked at her.
Adéla simply turned around and walked back into her car. "So…noon at Sharon's, then?"
"Noon at Sharon's," James called to her, and then she zoomed past him, waving as she went. Strange, he thought, she looks just like Sirius's aunt Gabriella. Only…not a frigid ice queen. Memories of a beautiful brunette with a little girl on her knee suddenly surfaced for a moment before he shook his head, forcing them away. "Yeah, right," he muttered to himself. "Gabriella Zabini related to a muggle?"
Laughing at the absurdity of it, he turned away, unease settling upon him as more memories flashed into his mind unbidden, memories of a world that he'd turned his back on years ago. Merlin, it had all gone so wrong, so wrong. Maybe if he hadn't picked Peter…but what choice did he have?
Frowning, he got into his own car and drove off. He had a date tomorrow, and he wasn't about to let recollections of his past spoil it.
Privet Drive, 1996
"And that's what I just don't get, professor," Harry scribbled, his quill flying furiously across the parchment. "Why did my mum and dad pick Peter? Why not you? Why didn't they make you their secret-keeper?"
A/N: Yes, I know, it was confusing. But you want to know what was confusing? The five (yes, five) family trees I worked out for this story, dates included. (I know, I have too much time on my hands). Anyhoo, a big thanks to all my reviewers, Lovin'Moony, xDragonxTearsx, StonySilence – I hope it stays realistic enough for you! FroBoy, XoXMelJayXoX – I tried to update Summer at the Vale, I really did…but I'm just not in the right frame of mind for it at the present…I'll keep trying, though! Fiona, Cherrysinger – I love your reviews…James wasn't eager to have a son before – he came around to the idea, though. And you're right – why did he abandon his responsibility? Well, sit back and find out!
Heads up, folks…things will get a lot more confusing before they get clearer. Anyways, your input was greatly appreciated and continues to be valued. Thanks everyone - Laren