FALLING WITH GRACE
by shiiki
CHAPTER FIVE
The Casualties of War
Summer and autumn, 1978
What was intended to be a fortnight-long sojourn in the Alps lengthened into a month when the Lestrange brothers, whom James, Sirius and Moody were tracking, managed to evade them and slip away into the mountains. That month extended into the next, as they tracked down the Lestranges again – right into a giants' camp.
'Looks like we've traced Voldemort's giant shipment,' said Sirius, when they'd high-tailed it out of the mountain valley before they could be spotted and attacked.
'We'll be putting a stop to it if we can,' growled Moody, and the next week was spent spying and eavesdropping, in order to find out how Voldemort intended to use the giants. James devised the plan which they then carried out: ambushing the Death Eaters at Calais, where they intended to transport the giants across the English Channel. It was a fight they entered outnumbered – the Lestranges arrived with a female counterpart and two giants in tow – but James, Sirius and Moody had the element of surprise. Sirius struck the first, unexpected blow, a Conjunctivitus Curse aimed directly at one giant's eye. The frenzy the giant had gone into, howling and thrashing, nearly crushed Rabastan Lestrange, and the other giant took a swing at Rodolphus Lestrange, possibly thinking that the Death Eaters had turned against them.
The chaos produced was enough to secure a winning chance. The Lestrange brothers fled, but their female companion, who turned out to be Sirius's cousin Bellatrix, leapt into a duel with Sirius, as James and Moody subdued the giants. It took a while for Bellatrix to realise that she was alone, but when she did, she let out a cry of fury. Sirius had to dive aside to avoid her snarled 'Crucio!' She, too, ran for it then, firing curses at them from behind her back.
They waited a long, boring week. James wrote countless letters to Lily, all of which he had to burn because Moody was adamant that they leave no trails for the Death Eaters to locate and assail them. At the end of that week, the second shipment of giants attempted to get past, and once again, they foiled it. However, as before, the Lestranges all escaped.
When Moody insisted that they continue to stay in case the Death Eaters tried again, James began to despair of ever getting back home. He wondered what was going on back in England. The news from home had been sparse and sporadic, arriving infrequently with Fawkes the phoenix – the only form of communication that Moody deemed safely untraceable.
Through Fawkes, Dumbledore assured James that Lily was well, that she and Liz Ollivander had created a prototype spell for the special Shield Charm they had been attempting to develop, which had managed to slow Frank Longbottom's testing Avada Kedavra marginally, but had ultimately failed to actually deflect the killing curse.
'It's a baby step,' said Moody approvingly.
James imagined Lily with her face fixed in serious concentration, her wand hovering over a delicate spell web. He carried the image with him, a talisman, along with his other pictures of her in his mind's eye: Lily sleeping peacefully, Lily holding up her face to be kissed, Lily smiling at him as though he was her ray of light, when it was really the other way round.
It was no surprise, then, that after arresting five more shipments, having slain two giants and sent three other Death Eaters (sadly, the Lestranges continued to evade capture) home in the custody of Aurors, when Moody finally pronounced their vigil over the giant shipment point complete, James's first thought was of the girl he could hardly wait to see again.
He had already been away for nearly four months.
---
September meant the start of the school year. Unfortunately, it also happened to coincide with a flurry of Death Eater activity throughout the country, which took a toll on the Order, whose members were beginning to feel the strain of being short-handed.
James, Sirius and Moody were away, fighting Death Eaters and giants to prevent them from stampeding through Britain. Dumbledore and the other members of the Hogwarts staff had to return to the school to attend to work. The other Order members were balancing their day jobs with Order business. Typically, Death Eaters tended to attack outside office hours – night, when the Dark Mark showed up best in the black sky, was their preferred time of activity. This meant sleepless nights and tired days for the Order, as they frantically rushed about trying to detonate figurative Death Eater bombs – always falling a step behind. It was a race to save lives, before the Death Eaters could take them.
Lily had been exempt from participating in raids earlier on, being busy with the Death Shield, but the sudden surge in attacks prompted Gideon Prewett to call her through the fire at Liz's place one evening.
'Lily – can you come? An attack, in Edinburgh; if we hurry, maybe …'
Of course, she agreed immediately. Gideon told her the address and disappeared from the fire. Lily hurriedly left a note for Liz, who wasn't home yet, before dashing outside to Disapparate.
The screams she heard upon arrival at the scene told her that she was too late. The Prewett twins were already there, charging through the banged-down front door, sprinting towards the source of the cries. She dashed after them, down the hallway and up the stairs of the two-storey home, into a room where a scene from hell was playing out before her stricken eyes.
A young witch, who looked barely older than Lily herself, was screaming as an older man held a baby boy's neck in his hands, tightening his grip over the infant's throat. Lily apprehended with a sickening glance that there was a Death Eater lazily controlling the man's actions … Imperius, she thought desperately. The baby was wailing, squalling as his face turned blue from lack of oxygen. His mother screamed for the Death Eaters to stop, to have mercy, but her hands were bound by an invisible spell from another Death Eater.
Fabian Prewett launched into action, going for the Death Eater wielding the Imperius Curse. The other Death Eater immediately released the young mother to attack, but Gideon tripped him up with a quick counter-offensive. Lily and the mother dashed to the Imperius-ed man, as the Prewetts engaged the Death Eaters in battle. The moment the spell was lifted, the man's eyes widened in horror and his hands shook so hard that he dropped the baby – the mother dived for her son and caught him in her arms. For a split second, Lily imagined that everything would be all right now; the baby had stopped bawling, safe in his mother's embrace. Then, a cry of anguish ripped out of the young mother's throat and Lily realised that it was already too late. She rushed over to the witch and instinctively put an arm around her heaving shoulders, but the witch jerked away violently, clasping her son's blue-tinged, lifeless body to her breast with the steel grip of a Grindylow.
Throughout all this, the man who had been held under Imperius sank to his knees and stared disbelievingly at his hands. When the errant bolt of green light, doubtlessly meant for one of the Prewett twins, shot from the wand of one of the Death Eaters and hit the man squarely in the chest, he simply keeled over, eyes still large and shocked.
'John!' The witch let out a strangled cry and ran to her husband's side. There was a loud cackle from one of the Death Eaters. Something seemed to snap inside the young witch, and, dropping her son's body, she sprung at the Death Eater like a woman possessed, clawing and scratching and spitting in fury.
'No!' Lily grabbed at the back of the witch's robes, certain that the Death Eater would kill her on the spot.
'I told you, Marcee,' snarled the Death Eater. '"You'll rue the day you married him" – remember?' He slammed her backwards into Lily with a flick of his wand, knocking the breath out of the both of them. 'Your turn – Ava–'
'Stupefy!' yelled Lily, at the same time as Gideon. The Death Eater slumped forward, unable to finish his curse. His counterpart's arms snapped rigidly together and fell back, stiff as a board as Fabian's Body Bind hit target.
The witch – Marcee – dissolved into hysterical sobs, screaming, 'Just kill me, just kill me …'
'Bastards,' said Gideon angrily, kicking at the unconscious Death Eater.
Lily found she was trembling so hard that she could barely hold her wand straight. Marcee's screaming rang in her ears, a tortured cry that reminded Lily vividly of the only other time she had witnessed first-hand the cruelty that people could sink to. Then, she had learnt how merciless their side could be; as she had watched the Aurors enclose a burning row of houses with a Containment Charm, condemning those inside – Death Eaters and Muggles alike – to a slow, torturous death. Now, she had just been shown live testimony of the Death Eaters' barbarity: forcing a hapless father to strangle his own son as his wife watched on in horror; laughing as a stray curse – or was it intentional? – hit the husband; taunting the poor girl who was now reduced to a sobbing heap on the ground.
'Come on, love,' Gideon said to Marcee, patting her back gently. 'It's over now. You're safe with us. Shh, now …'
Marcee calmed down as Gideon stroked her hair comfortingly. Her eyes, however, had a distinctly haunted look. With a chill, Lily wondered if she would always have that look in her eyes from now on; as though the terror she had witnessed would forever be imprinted on her face. Her heart filled with empathy, Lily took one of Marcee's cold, shaking hands and held it tight. Marcee in turn squeezed back so hard, so desperately, that Lily felt as though the squeeze was being transferred directly to her heart.
'Take her to Emmeline's,' directed Fabian. 'She has a spare room, and she'll know what to do for the girl. I'll stay to sort out these two.' He nudged the Body-Bound Death Eater with an unsympathetic toe.
Marcee was in no condition to Apparate, so Gideon took her Side-Along, and Lily followed. Emmeline Vance rose to the occasion magnificently when the three of them arrived on her doorstep, bundling Marcee into a large, soft armchair and sending a house-elf for hot chocolate.
'What's your name, then?' asked Emmeline, once Marcee had settled into the warm chair and sipped half her cup of cocoa away.
'Marcia Davenport,' was the whispered reply, in a voice hoarse from screaming and thick with tears.
Emmeline straightened and stared at the girl in amazement. Lily watched her expression switch from business-like sympathy to recognition, and then to genuine sorrow.
'Marcee,' she said softly. 'Is it you?'
Later, after Emmeline had put Marcee to bed, Fabian returned to tell them that the Death Eaters had been handed over to the Aurors, and to thank them all for their help. Emmeline collapsed into Fabian's arms when he arrived, and Lily and Gideon prudently left them together. As she backed out of the room, she heard Emmeline say, 'Little Marcee Fawcett, Fabian – I didn't recognise her when she came in, she looked so … I heard she'd married a Muggle, do you think that's why …'
Gideon shut the door tight then, closing off the rest of Emmeline's words. But Lily had overhead enough to feel sickened. Marcia Davenport had once been a girl like her – probably several years ahead of her at Hogwarts, in a different house. Emmeline seemed to have recalled her as a happier girl, with less cares. Now …
She'd watched her husband and child die, in front of her eyes. She'd lost everything in the short space of an evening. The more Lily thought about it, the more heart-sore she felt.
'Are you all right, Lily?' Gideon's voice, sounding a world away, brought her back to the present. She arranged her features into what she hoped was a neutral look.
'I'm fine. Just tired.'
'I know it was your first raid … I mean, it's hard to deal with, I know …'
'I'm OK, Gideon.'
He looked at her uncertainly. 'Do you want me to see you home?'
'No. Really – I'll be fine. Go home and get some rest; you must be tired, too.'
'All right, then. You too, Lily. Take care.'
Gideon was watching, so she spun on the spot, focused her mind on going home, and Disapparated. However, when the tight compression of her body relaxed with the loud crack that always accompanied her Apparitions, and she had a chance to take in her surroundings, Lily was thankful that she hadn't Splinched – because she had landed miles away from her flat in Manchester.
It didn't take long for her to comprehend the situation. Concentrating on home as her destination, her subconscious had targeted Potter Manor – James's home.
James. Could he possibly be home? Lily felt her heartbeat quicken; suddenly she wanted nothing more than to see him, and to fold herself into his arms as though he could wash away the sadistic brutality she had just observed. Had her intuition brought her here to seek solace?
Her heart in her mouth, she rang the doorbell.
James's house-elf answered the door. 'Master is telling Kibby to keep out strangers, but you is Master's Miss,' she squeaked. She then pulled one of her long, bat-like ears down and twisted it nervously and she peered at Lily with enormous tennis-ball eyes. 'Kibby is needing to ask Miss what Miss is giving Kibby for a present last year.' Evidently James had trained her properly in preparation for a Polyjuiced visitor.
'A cup. With roses on it,' Lily added for good measure. She'd wanted to give Kibby a scarf, but James had said that house-elves got upset if you tried to give them any form of garment.
Kibby's eyes grew round with delight. 'Right, Miss! You is coming in, and Kibby is making you a cup of tea right away!'
'There isn't any need, Kibby,' said Lily hurriedly as she stepped through the door that the house-elf held open for her. 'I was just looking for James…'
'Master is not in, Miss! He is gone away for many days!'
Although she knew that she should have been expecting this, Lily couldn't keep a sense of disappointment from settling over her. She must have unconsciously hoped for a lucky chance that he might be back now.
'He's not here?' she clarified.
Kibby shook her head vigorously. 'Not for many days, Miss.'
'Can … can I come in anyway?'
'Yes, Miss. Kibby will make Miss a drink!'
'I don't really …' Lily was about to decline the offer – she wasn't looking for a hot brew – but she changed her mind on seeing Kibby's eager face. 'All right. Thank you, Kibby.'
With an ear-splitting beam, Kibby ushered Lily inside and into a warm rocking chair, presenting a steaming cup of tea at the snap of her long fingers. Then, having discharged her duty, Kibby disappeared and left Lily to her own devices.
Again, instinct seemed to be guiding Lily, as she wandered upstairs with her cup of tea. She passed several portraits on the walls, whose occupants were either snoozing or surveying her with a bleary eye.
The first room she approached was James's parents' old one. Lily didn't enter, but stood outside for a while, remembering James's mother and father. Patricia Potter, whom she had first met at a blazing inferno – the same event that had opened her eyes to the ruthless nature of war. The recollection saddened her more, so she tried to visualise Andrew Potter instead: James's kindly, grey-haired father, who had favoured her with a warm, welcoming smile the first time James had brought her home … after Petunia had deserted her.
It was no use … she couldn't fix on a memory to assuage her current grief. She moved on down the hallway and arrived at a second door, one just opposite James's room, that she had never entered. In fact, she had never even seen the door open.
Would James mind if she looked inside? Most likely not … Lily raised a tentative hand to the doorknob and turned it slowly. The door creaked open, its hinges sounding as though they hadn't been used in ages. She stepped across the threshold and lit the room with her wand.
It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the light. When her vision had adapted, she let out a little gasp of surprise.
This was indisputably a girl's room: a dresser and vanity table were lined up against the wall, the windows were hidden behind faded pink curtains, a row of old plush toys that no boy would ever have been caught dead with resided on a shelf, and the queen-sized bed was neatly made with a flowery duvet.
It was also a room that looked as if it hadn't been inhabited for years. Although the floor and furniture were dust-free (Kibby must have been cleaning), everything had an antiquated look – as though time had stopped here many years ago. The books stacked by the small table next to the bed had yellowing covers and outdated titles. Even the image in a photograph, placed face-up by the books, seemed to have despaired of having an audience, as the people in it were unmoving except for a blink every few seconds.
Lily caught the picture in her hand and held it up to the light. As though sensing her presence, the three people in the photo started to move, waving their arms – slowly, at first, in a jerky, unpractised manner, then gradually more normally. Lily studied the little beaming figures: a couple in their twenties, with a young boy who couldn't be more than eight years old. His messy, jet-black hair stood up at the back of his head, despite repeated smoothing by the woman behind him.
It was James – an eight-year-old James, laughing from a faded old picture. But the woman with the same warm, hazel eyes, patting his head with obvious love, looked too young to be his mother … she had to be his sister. Harriet. And the solicitous-looking young man by her side must be her husband.
A Muggle whom a Dark wizard had hunted down and killed.
There was a striking parallel to Marcia Davenport's case. The images Lily had just witnessed not two hours ago surfaced to the forefront of her mind, and there was no blocking them out now: the blue, choking face of the Davenport baby; the father's expression of absolute horror; Marcia's look of defeat and surrender. Lily imagined Harriet's photographic features were slowly blending into Marcee's; this could have been a snapshot of the Davenports, a happy moment made timeless in a small square frame, before their lives were torn asunder …
Lily's knees wobbled, and she stumbled backwards to the bed. A drop of water splattered onto the photograph; all three people scurried to the edge to avoid it. Lily wondered if the roof were leaking – then she noted numbly that her cheeks were wet.
---
James arrived home, exhausted from the intercontinental Apparition. He hadn't actually wanted to return to the large, empty house – Sirius had offered to let James kip at his place – but James thought he'd better make sure Potter Manor had been all right in his absence.
What Kibby the house-elf informed him, however, had him wide-awake in an instant.
'What – Lily? She's here?'
Kibby confirmed this, and James's first thought was one of delight – Lily had come; she was here! Then, he recalled the dangers of impersonation. If it were a Death Eater in disguise, Polyjuiced as Lily …
'Kibby, did you ask –?'
'Kibby is asking Miss, and Miss is answering right!'
James relaxed slightly. But he knew he would have to find her first to be sure it was really Lily.
It was obvious where Lily was the moment James reached the first-floor landing. At the end of the corridor, a door which hadn't been opened in ten years was ajar.
He hadn't entered Harriet's room since his sister's funeral. His parents, filled with grief and sorrow after her passing, had avoided it as they skirted talk about her, and James had followed suit. Over the years, they'd almost forgotten that her room even existed.
But now, someone had breached that impassable barrier.
James couldn't help holding his breath as he crept through the open door, as though he was entering some sort of shrine. Everything inside the room was fusty: the effect of a room left untouched for years. Lily was sitting on the bed, her form shuddering as she stared at a photograph in her hands. She looked up as James approached, and he saw that she was crying, which puzzled him.
Then she held out the photograph, and as his gaze landed on it, he understood.
Thoughts and suspicions of Polyjuiced Death Eaters also flew out of his mind as he stared at the picture of himself, Harriet, and her husband Thomas, smiling and laughing as though they had always been that happy.
Beaming as though Harriet and Thomas had never died.
Lily had asked him a question, but he'd already forgotten what it was. She closed her fingers around his wrist and pulled at him to sit down next to her.
'I saw it happen,' she choked out. 'They killed – they forced …'
The whole story came spilling out of her: how Death Eaters had attacked a young family, forced the father, a Muggle, to murder his infant son, and then carelessly Avada Kedavra-ed the father as well.
'They did it because she married a Muggle, James. Oh God, how inhumane could they be? And that girl – she wasn't much older that us, we must have been at Hogwarts with her at some time … and if we hadn't been there, they'd probably have killed her, too …'
As they killed Harriet, thought James, with a lump in his throat.
'I saw this and I thought … this must have happened to … to her … and I'm so sorry, James. I know you've seen it all before …'
'In this room,' he whispered. 'She died here.'
Lily wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. 'I hate this war.'
'I know,' agreed James. It was so hard, seeing that picture, remembering how happy they had been once … and now, Harriet wasn't the only one to have suffered that way; Voldemort was causing more strife in the world with every passing day. And it would just continue: more people would be victimised, would lose those that they loved.
He clenched his fist, rage at Voldemort flooding through him. There was the noise of crunching paper; he had unintentionally crumpled the photograph in his hand.
Lily's cool fingers brushed over his fist. She gently prised his fingers open and took the photograph from him. He watched her smooth it on her lap, attempting to iron out the wrinkles that he had made in the picture.
It was the way they were trying to fight, he realised: rescuing lives before they could be crushed beyond repair; smoothing out the wrinkles as best as they could.
But there would always be creases that were etched in so deeply that they would never be removed.