Disclaimer: Ah, my thirtieth disclaimer for this story...Damn, but I feel old. I don't own the characters, and if I did--do you think I would kill of such a lovable character?!?!!? No!! *steams* We won't mention the evil woman's name here...But we know who she is. -_-
A/N So, I'm actually excited to write this chapter. Took me awhile to get myself ready to...But I think I can do it.
Recap: Last chapter we learned how Lily and Remus were able to survive the ceremony, Remus talked to Dumbledore and was sent after to James to find him and talk to him. To see if maybe he knew something about Voldemort's curse on Lily to see if they could stop Voldemort from becoming immortal. Anyhow, Remus isn't the only one looking for James...Who we finally see this chapter! Also making a reappearance: Snape!
~*~
Flirting With the Enemy
By
Sierra Sitruc
Chapter 30 Enter Kevin
Professor Dumbledore looked at sixteen year-old Harry Potter tiredly, "I'm really getting sleepy, Harry. Should we continue this another time?"
"No bloody way!" Harry yelped, "I want to know what happens next!"
"You're father went insane and turned a boggart into your 'mum' and lived in his happy little world until the day he died. So, what I've been meaning to tell you for years is...You're only half human."
Harry's jaw dropped, "Ah, well...I suppose it explains my overly hairy bum."
"Indeed it would." Dumbledore agreed, "Lemon drop?"
Well, while this was what I really felt like doing, I decided it was best not to. That was just a little segment my brain made up while really bored and listening to a psycho song instead of her usual choice of Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter soundtrack. Other songs tend to throw the mood of the story from angst to freak show.
Now! On with the real story!
~*~
"So, Smith, is it?" A frosty voice questioned, piercing the air like a winter's ice.
"Yes, Kevin Smith." Came the lazy American accent in reply. The two men were huddled in a dark corner of a Welsh pub. Cloaked, despite the warm weather, they seemed lumpy and overdressed. Odd glances were sent their way, trying to get a peak at the hidden faces.
"And you've searched me out, to join with Tom's Company? Correct?" The taller man asked.
"Yes, a few sources told me I could contact you for further information on entering," Kevin explained, his voice hushed, but gave no hint to what hidden meaning his words meant.
"First, I think I need to ask you...a few standard questions." The recruiter said, and leaned back in his chair, his eyes still shadowed in the dark.
"Fine, go on ahead," Kevin urged, his nervousness still disguised carefully, stealing quick glances around the room.
"You're from America?" Kevin nodded. "Where did you attend school?"
"Salem's Academy for Young Wizards and Witches." The younger man replied immediately. He shifted uncomfortably in his wooden chair. The hard bars pushed into his back, forming a painful knot form in his lower back.
"I see, and what do you do for a living?" It seemed the other man had known what questions he'd been planning to ask, because his answers were immediate and calculated, no stumbling over words or recalling information.
This went on for half an hour, when finally it seemed the taller man was satisfied. "I think, Kevin, that Tom will be very pleased to have you as a member of his Company. I'll meet you back here tomorrow night at eleven O'clock. I will have further instructions for you to follow. Goodnight." With that, he left and Kevin waited a few moments before taking his leave as well.
Kevin ambled his way through the miniscule village, not making eye-contact with anyone. Once he made it to the countryside, he walked along for about a mile, before pulling off his cloak and revealing a head of short, red, curly hair and dark forest-green eyes, a pair of silver-rimmed glasses settled on his nose.
He changed direction and stalked seemingly erratically into a nearby wooded area. The young man continued until he was hidden deeply in the trees, there he transformed into a wild stag and trotted off.
Also veiled in the woodland, a man watched the stag and with a crooked smirk whispered to himself, "Gotcha."
(A/N At this seen I had the humorous image of a crazy eyed hunter after poor 'Kevin' and I giggled like a duck. Think Elmer Fudd or whatever his name is. Just thought you'd like to know!)
~*~
Albus Dumbledore--
How is your friend James doing? I heard he has been ill. I have been busy with work. I caught the attention of my boss and have been given more duties. Send word of James for me at Llangollen, Wales. I'll help him with any work around the house if he is too under the weather to do it himself. I will quickly end this letter before my constant babbling annoys you.
Sincerely,
Remus J. Lupin
Dumbledore studied the ridiculous letter in front of him, and with a quick swish of his wand the important words of the true messaged were revealed.
Albus Dumbledore--
How is your friend James doing? I heard he has been ill. I have been busy with work. I caught the attention of my boss and have been given more duties. Send word of James for me at Llangollen, Wales. I'll help him with any work around the house if he is too under the weather to do it himself. I will quickly end this letter before my constant babbling annoys you.
Sincerely,
Remus J. Lupin
"So you see, Severus, why I called upon you so late in the night. I know you find James and Remus on the unlikable side," Severus snorted at the headmaster at that, "But it is up to you to give Remus instructions to James. I trust you to find out what exactly they are planning to do to him."
"Of course." Severus nodded, his dark eyes gaunt looking from being overworked with little sleep the past months. Losing one of his only friends had made it all the more difficult to cope with. He looked half-dead, and while the Headmaster would quickly have chosen someone else for the job to give the young man some time to heal...There was no one else.
"I've heard rumors in the Ministry that James was sent after a rather nasty recruiter for Voldemort; he was supposed to kill him...But I'm afraid James may be the one killed instead." Dumbledore said wearily.
"Good riddance." Severus mumbled inaudibly, and Dumbledore looked at him disapprovingly.
"This is not the first time, nor the last that I will have to ask you to put aside your youthful rivalries and to simply work together. We all know these are dark times and the only way we're going to survive this is to stand together, to not let petty things stop us from conquering the true evil."
Severus sighed, when was Dumbledore not lecturing him about 'these dark times' and 'standing together'? It was all well and good, but...Couldn't the headmaster think of something a bit more original? Frighten up the Hogwarts students for once, stir them up into action. These lazy, pathetic children need to open their glazed-over eyes and see the real world, unshielded from the rose-colored views the papers and staff fed them.
These dark times are perilous, one wrong step and you're blasted to pieces. Dumbledore sheltered his little children to all the true horrors, things that drove Lily Evans to give up on life. Hadn't they all once been just like those students? In their school days, Voldemort was just a scary man their parents were overreacting about, a few deaths were nothing.
That won't happen to me, they'd thought. Tell that to Frank Longbottom, who'd seen more tortured bodies then he could put together. Tell that to Lucius Malfoy, who'd learned enough Dark Arts curses to write a book, when he'd only passed that class in school with Severus' cheat slips. Tell that to Lily Evans, dead and buried at eighteen, guilty of nothing but misfortune.
None of them had dreamed their lives could take such a drastic turn. None imagined the amount of fear they would grow to have each and every time they simply went out to the market.
Would things have been better for his generation had Dumbledore given them the darkened truth, instead of the twisted, lighter one? Would Lily have been more careful, would she and Isabella have known to put all trust or none in each other, instead of letting their friendship muddle up their lives?
Severus would never know, but now all he could do was try and help his old classmates' rotten luck, undo the damage done by naivety and innocence.
Dumbledore looked patiently at his Potions Master who finally resigned himself to his duty, "Fine. I'll help Lupin and Potter; but remember I wasn't volunteering." With that, the two teachers put their heads together to plan what best to do to save what was left of James Potter.
~*~
Much Later...
Severus quickly strode into Dumbledore's office with ease, his eyes hid his emotions from passers by, but Dumbledore read the urgency in them easily.
"Is it--?"
"Perfectly safe," Dumbledore answered before the question was asked.
"They're still in Wales, it must be important or else He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Severus spat irritably, "wouldn't show up. I couldn't get much out of the idiot I was talking to or I might have found out what precisely was happening." The angry spy nearly growled with rage.
"Continue." The bearded elder urged.
"All I learned was that it was a big banger of an ordeal. Many will die, unquestionably."
"Wizards?"
"Probably, and muggles...More of the latter then the former no doubt. Potter is known to still be alive...but not by much, I think he's been tortured and there's word of others with him. We'll have to check the missing notices for Ministry Workers, I'm sure they'll be there."
"But, did you find out where 'there' was?" Dumbledore inquired, his eyes set firmly on his former student.
"Yes, but at the same time it was very vague, and then there's the day they are actually doing this..." Severus explained, "It's in a small village in Wales, on the outskirts of Llangollen, the place where Lupin is now so he can find it easily..." Severus paused once more, "It's just a matter of him arriving in time. It's happening tonight, just before midnight."
"That leaves just a few hours for Remus to get there, and we'll need backup of course."
"Aurors?" Severus questioned.
Dumbledore shook his head, "No, not safe...Too many spies in the Ministry these days. No, no...I'll be sending a few members of the Order after Remus; one can never be too cautious."
"You know best..." Severus drifted off, "I'll be going then, I have last minute young Slytherins running about trying to find socks before holidays begin." With that, he left in a big swish of dark robes and bitterness.
Dumbledore watched him shut the door, and then took out a piece of parchment and began writing a letter to Remus about what information he'd just learned. He looked at Fawkes, who flittered over to his side and waited for him to finish before taking the letter in his beak and zipping off to deliver the message.
~*~
A shrill, glass-shattering shriek echoed through the forest.
"What was that?" The first words spoken in hours, they came from a woman, no more then forty years old. She struggled against the bonds that wrapped around her.
Six heads twisted around to see who had broken the silence. "Don't bother fighting; it's useless without a wand." An Irish accented man told her warningly. The man spoke of the wooden branches, transfigured to hold its captives tightly to the trunks of the trees.
"I know it, but--" The woman stopped, giving up hope. A feeling of dread had fallen upon the men and women there in the forest, not long after they'd arrived here.
Another, kinder sounding woman, finished for her, "But you hate feeling helpless to save yourself as that beast comes closer." A quiet sob answered the woman.
"We all feel like that, but there's nothing we can do." A young man gasped out, a light American accent recognizable through his clenched teeth.
"What's your name anyway?" A kind sounding woman asked.
"Who?" Came several voices.
"You with the American accent." She answered.
"Which would you like? The name I've been using for the past few months, or my birth name? Either way, I doubt you'll like them." The man in question asked. By the gaps in his words, the other caught on that he was in a lot of pain. The darkness hid the blood that ran down his face, mixed with sweat from the exertion of managing the pain.
"I'm Azalee Wood, and I'd like your real name if you'd like to tell me it." She said softly to him.
"James Potter, up until two days ago, I'd been Kevin Smith the American." He muttered, ignoring the gasps of recognition. "I've been trying to catch this bastard of a recruiter for Voldemort," Shudders ran around the group, along with another sob from the first woman to speak, "Failed, and got caught myself instead." He laughed humorlessly. "I just can't seem to do anything right these days."
"James Potter? The Auror?" A gruff voice came from nearby James.
"I was an Auror once." James answered uneasily.
"Then you should be able to help us get out of this mess!" A hysterical voice came from somewhere near James' right.
"I can't! There's nothing I can do! I don't work miracles! I do my job." James growled in reply.
"Please, James...I know there's something you can do. Please." Azalee begged, "I have a young son, Oliver, just barely turned eight-months old. I don't want him to grow up without a mother. I don't want my husband to have to raise him alone." James flinched as he heard the tears in her voice.
"I can't help you. I can't even help myself." James said, defeated. His head rested against the branch wrapped around his neck. The blood beginning to dry against his skin and making him itch.
Another screech rang through the forest, startling the group and heightening their terror. "It's getting closer." The man with the gruff voice noted.
"What are we going to do, just wait for that thing to come and get us?" A youthful sounding boy asked, all heads turned to where the voice had come from; his shadowed figure could almost be made out amongst the tree branches tangling with the boy's own limbs.
"Where are you from, son?" Azalee asked him, curiously, ignoring his question. She seemed to have overcome her own panic rather quickly.
"Australia. I'm Darcy, by the way, Darcy Tate." The boy seemed calm, if not a bit irritated about the situation. He sounds young, James thought, too young to be here.
"Why are you so far away from home? Perhaps if we pull together why all of us have come here, we can figure out a way to save ourselves." Azalee explained.
"I'd...Well, I guess I'm going to die anyway." The boy mumbled, his Australian accent almost inaudible. "I'm a werewolf, in fact, so's my entire family. We've got a thick generation of werewolves, tracing back near a thousand years ago. We've stayed alive by living out in the Outback where not many people come much; the Ministry hasn't figured us out yet." Darcy sounded proud of himself, and they could tell he was trying to sound mature.
"How'd you end up here though, in Wales?" James grunted out painfully.
"Ah, well, my family had been helping this man my dad'd found stranded in this desert, turns out he was a werewolf too. So of course we took him in and helped him out, he was real sick like. Anyway, it seems his staying with us alerted some Death Eaters up here, and they came snooping around our lot back home." The young werewolf took a deep breath, "They wanted us to join with You-Know-Who." He whispered.
The others, seemed to be listening intently to his story, and so, thus encouraged, he barreled on full speed.
"My dad said no, we weren't into that rubbish, but then they threatened to tip us off to the Ministry 'bout us being werewolves."
"Imagine the fun they'd have with a pack of werewolves loose..." Azalee said to herself.
"Yeah, head-hunting season for sure." The gruff voiced man agreed.
"So we was left with no good options, right? My dad was furious! If he didn't agree to join up, the Ministry would kill us, if he did, he'd be doing something he hated." Darcy shook with his own anger, "My dad and mum discussed the chances of living if the Ministry found out 'bout us and decided they liked those consequences better."
"I bet those Death Eaters didn't like your dad's decision then?"
"No way they didn't! I reckon they looked at all my dad's kids and thought if they could just grab one it'd be easy to con my dad into agreeing to join up with these dunder heads. They didn't take long in acting, nope, they went straight for who seemed to be the easiest target, my little kid sister. Those idiots just didn't know they'd have to mess with me first to get to her." Darcy sounded even more proud of himself as he said this, and a far more angered.
"They came in the night, and I share a room with my sis, so I woke up when I heard her cries. They were covering her mouth, but she's always been real obnoxious, so I woke up right fast and tackled those widgets quicker then you can say hunky-dory!"
"And they decided to take you instead," Azalee mumbled.
"Yeah, I haven't really known what's been going on now though...I just have a feeling it sure isn't good." Darcy sighed, "I sure hope I can give one of them a real good kick before I die though."
"You won't have to worry about dying Darcy, I'll make sure of it," James told him determinedly. "No one's going to die today or tomorrow. Not as long as sticks and stones don't hurt you and names do."
~*~
A/N Llangollen is a real place in Wales, there's some information on it and a few pictures.
So...Is James a total crack head?
Am I just going to kill everyone?
Is Sierra's patience with this story wearing down?
Of course.