A/N: (Repost for grammatical errors) This is dedicated to Lovin'Moony, who besides making me blush like crazy inspired me to get off my butt and get some writing done. School is finally out, but after all the craziness I was strangely uninspired and have been fighting my way through writer's block ever since. Have no fear, though, as I have seen through to the end of this story, which means that it will be posted in its entirety in the near future. If I ever take too long to update…just review and bug me to get some writing in! Trust me, it works every time!
Of Cowards and HeroesChapter 9
Hogwarts, late September, 1996"Ah, Severus! Do come in."
"Headmaster," the tall man acknowledged, sinking rather ungracefully into a proffered chair. Once seated, he sighed, sure he knew what was to be said next.
"You are, of course, quite alright?"
He grinned inwardly, only allowing a small smirk to appear on his face. It was ever the first question asked of him whenever he returned from the…the meetings, and he still found himself both amused and annoyed at the genuine concern in the old man's voice. Or was it? Which, he reflected, was exactly what annoyed him so; his Slytherin mind couldn't help but wonder whether or not Dumbledore's concern was for him as the spy or him as a person.
"I have not been physically hurt in any way; if that is your meaning, Headmaster."
Ah, there it was. That slight narrowing of corn blue eyes that told him he'd said the wrong thing, and that, contrary to his original intent, he'd not only not saved himself a lecture, but earned a 'talk' on his 'immense worth, value and extreme importance as a person first and foremost'.
"Albus," he quickly continued, seeing the headmaster sit up in his chair and lean forward. "Albus, whilst the meeting was fairly uneventful…I feel that some of the others are…planning something."
Severus had to fight back the smirk that threatened to emerge at the obvious curiousity the older man was radiating. The headmaster was like a little child sometimes; a trait, which Severus noted, was often his weakness and simultaneously, his strength. "Pettigrew…Albus, Pettigrew and a few others; although I do not believe it is more than five, or Voldemort would know…have been quite obviously seeking to regain favour lost over the past year."
"If I may interrupt?"
He scowled; it wasn't as if he really had a choice. "Of course, Headmaster."
"Then, may we also assume that a Malfoy is involved?"
"Yes, of course…" Severus sat up straight in his seat, knowing that Dumbledore's choice of wording had been completely deliberate. "How did you…" was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back, drawing his robes around him and holding his chin high.
"Yes; as far as I have been able to ascertain, Malfoy is involved. Yet it would seem that it is almost about Malfoy; or at least, their family, which is why I am at a loss as to what they could be planning, Albus." He watched the old man carefully, irritated to find no hint of his thoughts on his countenance.
"Then we must find out, Severus; I do not think that I need to remind you of the danger of these attacks designed to…impress Voldemort."
Severus nodded curtly, and after a few more minutes of reporting, left the office, making his way back towards his rooms. Albus was right; he in no way needed reminding of just how dangerous and horrifying those kinds of attacks could be, when the Deatheaters' only goal was to kill as many persons as possible in hopes of gaining favourable attention from Riddle. He frowned as he recalled that evening, its events and the actions of others puzzling him. He'd known Lucius Malfoy long enough to recognize certain looks, small gestures that told the observant watcher that Malfoy knew a lot more than did those that were with him; in fact, they often meant that he was very much in control of the situation, and in this case, Severus was almost certain that it was no different. Pettigrew certainly appeared to be the instigator, and it was only natural that he should go to Malfoy for help; even with his reduced fortunes, the silver-haired man still had vast contacts.
And it should have been perfectly normal for Malfoy to take over the mission; in his arrogance, it was his habitual way of living, and when he desperately needed to gain favour himself, it was only natural that he should try and play a key role in their latest scheme.
"But, Peter, Peter," Malfoy had said, shaking his head slightly and smiling, "Peter…if we have been deceived for so many years, then we cannot afford to be hasty; we must make our…preparations with care."
Suddenly, just as he reached the door to his rooms, Severus realized just what had been bothering him so much. Malfoy had smiled, not his normal, smug half-smile that he frequently utilized to charm those around him, but a real, complete smile that even reached his eyes. And when Pettigrew had turned away, the smile had only widened. Severus knew that smile, knew that it could only mean one thing; Malfoy's joy in pure, unadulterated revenge. Rubbing his forehead in frustration, he muttered the password and strode into his rooms, heading straight for a desk in the far corner of his living room and taking out a small leather-bound notebook. Sighing, he seated himself in the lone wing chair and began to peruse the book's contents, scanning name after name for anything that could possibly jog his memory. Who on earth was Malfoy after? Who was it that the mission merited such secrecy?
High above him, tucked away in Gryffindor tower, a skinny, messy haired sixteen-year-old was sitting upright in bed, awake in the dark silence of the sixth-year boys dormitory, utterly confused as to whether or not his latest dream was worth seeing the headmaster for. It was fading away, too, the shadows, whispers, and thankfully, the screams and the pain. One part, though, stood out in his mind…his feeling of amusement at the petty dealings of his…no, Tom's Deatheaters, and even mild curiousity as to what they were planning. Frowning deeply, Harry settled himself back into bed, trying to clear his mind properly before sleeping again. Finally satisfied that he had done so, he relaxed, his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier until they finally closed, darkness taking him. That is, until Nadia's eerily familiar bright blue eyes appeared in his minds' eye, staring at him with such intensity that Harry turned his face into his pillow to try and avoid them. After a few heart-stopping moments, they disappeared, but not before a single name had etched itself onto Harry's consciousness, running through his mind over and over again and preventing any possible chance of returning to sleep.
…Sirius…
The Three Broomsticks, England, October 26th, 1981
Remus frowned into his butterbeer, his face such a picture of consternation that the woman with him laughed and lifted his face up to hers.
"What…did the universe suddenly cease to exist and no one told me?"
Remus rolled his eyes at Cassandra, not bothering to hide his grimace at her rather bad joke. "I'm fine, Cass…just doing some thinking."
She snorted, but let her had drop to his arm, where she gave him a soft squeeze. "Well it looked as if you were trying to Avada the mug into oblivion." She smiled when he chuckled wryly at that; pleased that she'd managed to at least bring him partway from the pit of depression he'd been in since the beginning of that month.
"Remus…I…" she had to say it, while she had this window, "Remus, I know you're upset about James and Sirius, but…" and faltered – his eyes were on her, practically looking through her in their intensity, staring her down with their clear tawny gaze.
It took her a full minute to realize that he wasn't looking at her, that he was, in fact, gazing just past her, over to the door, where a determined looking James Potter was slowly but steadily making his way through the crowded pub to their table. Still unnerved by Remus's look, she could only stare open mouthed at the man, the man who along with that pompous ass Sirius Black was making Remus's life far more hellish than he deserved. By the time she'd recovered enough to glare heatedly at James, he and Remus were talking, albeit hesitantly, and ceased to give the bespectacled man a look of death and then some when she realized that they were actually making civilized conversation.
Still deeply mistrustful, though, she continued to simmer inwardly, gratefully excusing herself when she spotted a friend at a nearby table. James watched her go with open curiousity, at last turning back to Remus with a quirky half-grin on his face.
"She is a looker, Moony, I'll give you that."
Remus shook his head before smiling weakly back at his friend. "Why are you here, Prongs?"
James shrugged. "I saw you inside…thought I'd drop by seeing as it's probably the…the…"
Remus looked levelly at him. "…The…what?" When James merely coloured and remained silent, he chuckled, smiling properly.
"See, Prongs? We all have our secrets."
"But we're best friends, Remus. I…we…we shouldn't have…"
Remus looked down at his drink, giving it a swirl before picking up the mug to drain its contents. "Yeah, we shouldn't. But sometimes, James, sometimes…"
James frowned. "But, that's part of friendship, right, taking those risks of telling people…" He trailed off, schooling his features into a pleasant look as he saw Cassandra approaching, her friend leaving the pub.
"Cass," Remus greeted, scooting around to make room for her, but James's attention was now captured by the appearance of Peter in the doorway from the street. Suddenly he swivelled around, his face earnest and slightly worried.
"No secrets, right…" he muttered, glancing at Cassandra before swallowing hard and turning to Remus. "Remus…Lily and I…I'm getting Peter to…he's…" he looked down at the table. "Remus…I don't know if I'm doing the right thing here, but I have to, you see, but then I'm so confused, and…well, there's been this whole mess with Lily…I really shouldn't be telling you this."
His voice faltered as Peter reached their table, the smile on his face frozen at the sight of them; Remus, confusion and deep concern written all over his features, Cassandra, alternating between angry and sympathetic, and James, whose face he couldn't see but his shoulders hunched as he slumped over the table.
"J-James," he stammered. "There you are. Hullo Remus…Cassandra."
"Pettigrew," Cassandra acknowledged. Remus and James stayed silent, eyes locked; it wasn't until Cassandra kicked Remus sharply that he looked up and noticed his friend.
"Pete! Oh, hullo," He smiled kindly, but it was obvious to all that his mind was entirely preoccupied elsewhere. His words, however, seemed to jog James out of his stupor, and he jumped up, nearly knocking Peter over in the process.
"Pete…hi…right…I'll be right with you! Sorry about that, Remus…well, we all have our secrets, right?"
Remus simply nodded, his eyes following James and Peter as they left the pub together, apparently discussing something of importance.
"Alright," It was Cassandra who spoke first, breaking the small cushion of silence surrounding their small table. "I take it that he apologized for being an arse and you two made up…but, er…what was that?"
"…I…I haven't got the faintest." He told her, and as he said it, he almost began to believe it himself. He knew – well, of course, he didn't actually know, but it was all too clear that the stress of the past few months had hit his friend much harder than anyone had anticipated, and now, if he was right…James was going to do something drastic. Something not fully thought through and, whether or not it might actually be the right thing, it would be done solely out of sheer desperation. It was true, he thought, we do have our secrets…but the one James was carrying…it's too much.
"Mmm?" Cassandra asked, still looking rather bewildered at recent events. Remus stared at her for a second before shaking his head.
"He's an Auror…I should've known he'd be under a lot of stress."
"Ah," she nodded; to her, this explained it all. "Right then. Well, then, maybe he should be telling you whatever it was he started. Otherwise…he'll snap."
Yeah, thought Remus. That's pretty much it.
Hamilton, Canada, September 29th, 1996
'Come on, pick up, Déla…please be there…"
Riiingg!
Adéla knocked over the drink beside her at the telephone's harsh sound, swearing lightly under her breath as the light coloured liquid spread over the table. Groaning with frustration, she reached around wildly for the nearest cloth to dry it, racing for the phone when she finally found one.
"Hello?"
"Déla? Baby, it's me."
"James…James, where are you? I've been up waiting for hours for you…are you okay? What happened?"
Despite the barrage of questions she was throwing at him, he could hear the relief in her voice. He knew that she must be able to hear it in his also. "Oh, you're there…good, good…I'm fine, don't worry about me. Déla. I must have dozed off and I went off the side of the road, but I'm fine now…the car's okay, too…I'll be home in half an hour."
James had to hold the phone away from his ear as she shrieked, partly out of relief and partly from sheer anxiety. "You went off the road! Are you alright? Where on earth are you, then? Wait…you're not driving home, are you? If you fell asleep before, James…please, don't take any risks like that!"
"I'm at the police station, baby, and I'm fine. You're right, I shouldn't be driving; that's why I'm calling a cab. I'll head back to the police station for my car tomorrow. But Déla…"
"James, I've been sitting here wondering where on earth you are…"
"I know, baby, and I'm sorry…but look, just…don't leave the house, alright?"
"You'd better be sorry! Suppose something had happened to you? James, I-"
"Don't leave the house, Adéla. Don't go anywhere."
He heard the intake of breath on the other end, knew that she was probably staring at the phone, confused at the sudden change of subject. Suddenly, though, he heard a hiss, as she sucked in air, and began to talk.
"James is it-"
"I have to go, Déla, but just…don't leave, just stay put."
There was silence again, until she finally told him yes and hung up, her voice shaky as she said that she loved him.
"Ready to go, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, sir, all done." He smiled at the policeman standing nearby, noting that a cab had pulled up outside the station. Guilt flashed through him as he climbed in, sorry that he'd made her worry when she was already quite clearly upset. But he had to make sure, had to know that she'd stay there, where it was at least somewhat safe. Because he hadn't dozed off – yes, he had gone off the road, but it was because he'd felt the magic in the area, a suffocating blanket of searching, probing magic, and part of him had wanted to reach out and shout "Here I am!" but he'd managed to suppress it, hide that part of him away until it had passed, and then, realized that in his sheer terror, he'd gone off the road, his car quite firmly stuck in a ditch. Whoever it was…they may not have been looking for him, but someone was out there, searching…and, somehow, he knew that he couldn't afford to get caught up in it.
By the time he finally arrived at their house, Adéla was already hard at work in their bedroom, packing clothes, books, and anything she could put her hands on into several open suitcases.
"Déla…" he managed, and she turned to him, eyes blazing.
"I won't just sit here, James…if they find us, I won't just sit here and wait for my family to come and get me."
Swallowing his own instinct to join her in her packing and run with her before the light of the new day dawned, he sighed, walking over to her and gathering her in his arms. "We don't even know if it was your family…" he began to say, and thought better of it.
"I just dozed off; it was a busy day at work, I was tired…and then, when I heard your voice…"
He trailed off, about to start again and tell her the truth, but then he saw the look in her eyes, how very afraid she was, and knew that he couldn't possibly be honest with her.
"It's probably because of the baby; but I was just so worried all of a sudden…it just hit me that I could have died, and…well…panic attack, I guess."
Adéla pulled away from him, hands on her hips as she stared him down before she sighed and began unpacking. "Well, I've made a right mess of this place, then."
He grinned wryly, leaning forward and taking a shirt out of her hands. "Leave it – we'll do it in the morning."
"Yeah…" she sank down onto their bed. James quickly pulled his clothes off, sliding into the bed in his boxers and pulling the covers back for her to do the same. Adéla smacked his hand gently, climbing in beside him. "Alright, I'm coming."
"But, remember what you said the other day?"
"Mm?"
"You know, about moving?"
Oh, he remembered all right. Now it was ever present in his mind, something he knew they needed to do. But she hadn't wanted to; they had everything they needed right there in that house, she'd said. At least, until that night.
"I remember," he said cautiously. "Why?"
"It's…I think that it might be a good idea, now."
Yeah, James thought. There I go again, running away, except this time with a wife and baby on the way…there's no way we'll make it very far.
'And what then," a voice interrupted his thoughts. 'What then, when you've run and there's no where else to go?'
James shook his head, trying to fight away the obvious conclusion he was coming to, the conclusion that he'd probably already been at for a couple of months. Sighing, he turned onto his side, reaching out for Adéla's belly, resting his hand on it to feel his daughter move.
What then? Then, he knew, he'd have to go back.
A/N: Well, that's me struggling through writer's block. I know the general idea of what's going to happen, but sometimes, the specifics can be more than a little elusive. I certainly hope that you liked it, though. To all those who are actually still reading this and reviewing…Thanks so much!
man eating plant: as you can see from the end of this, James and Harry will be meeting soon…but I can't tell you when yet! Thanks for the names suggestions, (I do really like Micala) but for reasons I explain on my homepage, I'm going with traditional names. If you've got any ideas there – let me know!
praesul femella: Yeah, Nadia and Adéla do have the same eyes…but that's not why Harry can't stop thinking about them. Hopefully the chapter gave you the answer to that!
Swordsmistress: Sorry…James dated a Hannah once, didn't go well (at least in my story!), so that otherwise lovely name is a no go. I'm glad you like this, though! (now get a move on in posting, chikie, since I've posted)
Nineida: That's a great suggestion, actually, I'll have to see if I can work it in. Ahaha, suspense…I don't think I had too much of it in this chapter though.
Trista: Glad you like it…like I said, I'm going to do my best with the updates, but the should be fairly regular (key word: 'should')
Lovin'Moony: I haven't given up, I promise! ducks rolled newspaper No, really, I'm definitely posting this one the whole way through. I don't know about it being that good a story blushes 'cause I've read some truly amazing stuff out there but you have no idea how cool it is for me that people say they like it! I do love the name Rebecca, but if you go to my homepage…you'll probably see that I'm leaning towards another name. Thanks so much for reviewing!
Alright…I think that's everyone. Seriously guys, if I haven't updated for a while, go to my homepage and say something, or review…I love to hear feedback, and once I get talking about my story, I'll inevitably start writing like mad within a couple of days. If you've got anything you want to say about this chapter, or just want to say hi…review! Name suggestions for Baby Girl Potter are still very much welcomed! -Laren