Pounding. Throbbing. Hitting, hammering, an entire array of unpleasant and painful sensations radiated from the back of her head as she slowly regained consciousness. Her mind was foggy, and her body screamed in effort as she tried to lift herself and check her surroundings, which actually didn't take long due to the fact that wherever she was located was pitch black, save for the strip of pale yellow light shining beneath a door above her head. She was sitting up, her arms and legs attached to the appendages of a metal chair. Forcing itself over the pain in her wrists and ankles was the pain in her throat, parched and in desperate need of water. This was her best indicator of how long she had been out- a day at least, but more likely two.
Lily breathed in and out, in and out. There would be a way of escape. She was not going to die here.
Slowly, she became aware of noises beyond the door, of plates clinking and bottles noisily set down. Dinner, or lunch, or something. With the initial ringing in her head dimming, she could make out distinct voices.
"I wasn't going to take her, you see," bragged what roughly resembled… Mulciber, that's right, "I figured she was an Order member like we suspected, but I was curious as to why some blonde witch was in the stock room. Didn't recognize her. Soon as I packed the brews, I Apparated here with her and stored her- even if she wasn't Order, she might have had her, say, uses. And what do you have it, she starts to change and I knew that red hair and ugly face. One look at her left hand and I was knew it was the Evans girl- Potter's." His tale of triumph was meant with glorious laughter.
"Have you alerted the Dark Lord yet?" Came a raspy voice.
"I haven't. I was going to see what she could offer before I do."
"You think it wise to keep something like this from him?" There was a pause, then a curt reply.
"The Mudblood is mine to decide to what to do with and when to tell the master. That's my final word." The clanking of dishes once again drowned out the conversation, but Lily understood what it meant for her.
This cellar would be a living hell.
"We've been walking in circles for an hour, James," Remus prompted quietly, "there's nothing here."
James looked over his shoulder to glare at his friend. "We haven't looked enough. There's got to be some sort of—"
"Mate," Sirius grabbed James' shoulder, a bold move considering the welt he sported on his cheek from James' first plan of action after Sirius showed up at the bar (punch, yell, and then practically sprint to the inn), but Sirius knew James and therefore knew the fight had died inside of Prongs. Sirius had just made a scape goat at the bar for the real situation at hand, that Lily was gone and they had no idea where she was. He kept his gaze steady as he met James' own hard look. "It's time to head back to headquarters. We'll meet with Dumbledore and mass whatever information we can on this, but there's no use in looking for leads that don't exist here."
"Padfoot's right," Peter put in, stowing his wand in his pocket. He'd been quiet since they'd begun to search the dingy inn, more jumpy than usual. "Lily's not here, and if she's still alive we need to—" But James marched angrily over to Peter, easily towering over him in his sudden rage.
"If? There's no if. Lily's not dead." He turned from Peter, now directing his words at the group as a whole. "Lily's not dead," he hissed.
"None of us think that, James," Remus replied soothingly, but he narrowed his eyes at Peter, who looked abashed. "She's still alive."
James nodded, and looking at his friends— the old gang, the Marauders together as they hadn't been in a while— he felt his shoulders relax as both shame and fear began to take anger's place. Lily, gone without a trace except for blood, and he had no clue as to how to find her. Being kidnapped in war was one thing, but she was Muggleborn, the cause of the oncoming "impurity" of an ancient bloodline, and known member of the Order of the Phoenix. It broke James to know the horrors she would face, and he could do nothing about it as of now. He took a shuttering breath as his gaze flickered from Peter to Remus and rested on Sirius.
"Sorry," he muttered, indicating the light bruising on Sirius' face, who shrugged in return.
"This? Couldn't feel a thing, you pansy. You're getting weak and fat in your old age, Prongs."
James smiled. "Because nineteen is so old."
"Older than me, mate, and at east half my life expectancy if I'm lucky," Sirius scoffed. "Let's head back. Mad-Eye's going to serve my ass on a platter for this."
"And enjoy it," added Remus.
James appreciated the turn of conversation, using humor as a defense for an event none of them could have ever foreseen. They made their way to an appropriate Apparition spot, with only one thing on James' mind.
She's still alive.
The door opened, pouring light into the room and blinding Lily for a moment. It was Mulciber who stood in the door way, a smirk on his face with the air around him exuding pride in what he had accomplished. He didn't say anything, opting instead to bask in his own glory. Lily forced herself to remain neutral, her own expression disinterested, though inside her heart fluttered in panic. Order work had familiarized her with the pleasure Death Eater's drew from torture, and she had been on the receiving end of a fair number of their curses. Even still, she knew this situation was different. Alone, defenseless, and at the entire mercy of Mulciber.
"So," he started, now casually walking down the steps to stop in front of her. Mulciber took a few moments to walk the circle around her chair, hoping to intimidate her further by walking out of her range of vision. Despite her best efforts, Lily could feel her heart thud as more panic seeped in. She worked to steady her breathing as Mulciber spoke, still out of sight. "I knew I could smell something rotten at that inn. Your Mudblood stench was everywhere." His voice crawled through the air behind her, raspy and hateful. Breathe, Lily. "But what I'd like to know, rodent, is how you managed to find our supply." And suddenly his face was in front of hers, filthy breath permeating the air. Lily blinked, her exterior calm as fear coursed inside her.
"Pity," she replied. "But I can't seem to remember." He narrowed his eyes, then promptly swung his hand down to strike her cheek. She made no sound of pain.
"You whore," he spat, and she could feel the anger rise in the air around him. "Who tipped you? Who were you with? Who else is stupid enough to be in the Order of the Phoenix? Where is the headquarters?"
Lily said nothing.
"Fine," Mulciber growled, drawing out his wand, "I know how to get what I want. This is the fun part." And now calm as could be, he uttered a simple, "Crucio!"
Lily screamed.
She awoke with a cool wet rag draped across her forehead and a warmth radiating off something nearby. For that moment between the unconscious and waking, it was almost as if she had been taken home, away from the hell and into the warmth of James' embrace. The comfort was fleeting.
"You're up," a voice to her left breathed, and Lily froze in horror. "I was worried that the idiot had done permanent damage to you." She tried to bring all her senses into focus, because she knew the person sitting in the shadow of the flames by her feet. She knew that voice and sillouite and person and she hated it.
"Snape?" He leaned his head into the light, hook nose first, black eyes glittering. Lily felt a new panic. She had no idea how to avoid this, how to make this any more bearable, any less horrific.
"Lily," he answered calmly, "are you okay?"
"Oh, you know," she retorted acidly, "I'm used to being held in a cellar and tortured. Enough about me, really, how's your day been?"
"I'm merely here to help."
There was a moment of silence in which Lily calculated several strategies in her head at once, quickly realizing that the challenge before her would require an abandonment of pride. She dropped her head to her chest in weakness and exhaustion that was far too easy to feign. She whispered, "How long have I been here?"
"Over three days. I only found out today. I've been... away." She nodded.
"Where am I?"
"You know I can't answer that."
"Severus, please," she begged, "let me out of here."
"You know I can't do that."
Change of tactic. Playing pathetic had never been her thing, anyway. She lifted her head and glared. "Bullshit, Snape." Lily hissed. "You very well can, but you won't."
"No real harm is going to come to you. Just tell them names, Lily. I can make sure they'd let you go."
"They? You're acting like you aren't a part of this!"
"I don't like them holding you."
"Yeah, Snape? Join the club."
He sighed, exasperated. "Look, I'm trying to help you out here, so if you want to pass over this opportunity, then fine. But-" she cut him off.
"Was it your potion?" She hadn't realized until now that this was something on her mind.
Snape had the decency to look away when he admitted, "It was one of my finer brews." He spoke with a sort of reverence towards his work. "Undetectable in any drink, or edible object. Undetectable in the blood stream, even post mortem. The best part," and she could hear it again, the undeniable pride that she knew from him from all those years ago, sitting together in Potions class. This wasn't merely his finest brew- it was his own creation. Snape drawled on, "the best part lies in its precision and execution. Mere days after consumption, when the body is relaxed- sleeping- the nervous system fails, leaving the victim immobile and incapable of calling out. The potion diffuses, going through the veins like pools of flames until enough reaches the heart, which subsequently fails as it is essentially burned by the potion. The death is marked as a heart failure and forgotten."
Lily sat horrified as Snape gave his praise to the poison. "You're despicable," she whispered. There was nothing for her to do, stuck in the chair, but turn her head away from him and close her eyes. "Those were people, with families and friends that certainly won't forget them."
"They're Muggles, they don't mean much of anything."
"I can't believe I used to think I could save you." Lily confessed scathingly. "I thought that I could protect you from this side of yourself, but I was so clearly wrong."
His gaze was blank as he stared back at her, forcing an uneasy silence between them. He extended his hand to her knee.
"Don't touch me!" Lily screamed, and he withdrew as if she had sent a shock wave to him. Snape jumped up, agitated and offended before her turned his back to her. "Tell them the names, Lily. And get out the Order. This war doesn't need your blood."
"I'm not a traitor," Lily spat, infuriated, "and I'm not a coward. You, Snape, are both."
He twirled around, and for a moment it looked as if he were going to slap her, but instead his eyes flicked down to her fists, still held by the metal restraint, to the engagement ring still on her finger. "It's official, then?" He all but whispered. "You really are marrying that no good, low bastard? After everything he did to me?"
The only response she could think of was one that gave her immense hope in the midst of everything, the same answer that would kill all of his.
"I'm getting out of here," Lily started clearly, not allowing her voice to waver, "and I'm going to be married in less than two months to that 'no good, low bastard' and it's going to be the happiest day of my goddammed life, because James is the greatest man I've ever known."
Snape was out of the cellar in seconds, sweeping the tiny fire by her feet out of existence as well.
Five days without a sign of Lily, and James was beginning to feel it. Not the loneliness and the sorrow, that he had known since she was taken, but true despair, thoughts of never seeing her again, were torture.
Worse yet, Order duties continued. A giant attack in the North meant death and destruction for miles, with hundreds of memory charms required, and there was noticeable struggle without Lily's quick hand. James found himself forced to comfort victims, promising normality and giving them hope while inside, all of his was slipping away with no chance of stopping. Even with Sirius at his side, James couldn't produce a Patronus in the face of a Dementor attack near London.
For the first time, James accepted the possibility that Lily had been killed.
"Your friends are coming soon," Mulciber told her distractedly, looking down at his nails. Her heart stopped.
"What?" Her shirt was drenched in sweat, and she considered the possibility that her wrist was broken- her arm had jerked as a reflex in this round of 'interrogation,' if it could even be called that. Mulciber lost interest in asking questions after days of her resisting. She was ready for the day that he called it quits and killed her, rather than continuing to administer the Cruciatus and other curses she had never fathomed to no avail. Lily was exhausted, her body at minimum capacity and her mind starting to slip. But what he said to her was so unexpected she perked her ears.
"The Order of the Phoenix is coming. You see, Mudblood, you think that they're safe because you wouldn't cough up names." He smiled triumphantly and marched back and forth in front of her, Lily's head spinning in horror. Mulciber continued, "What use do we have of names when we could have the actual Order here on a desperate mission to save you, all together in our trap?" He came dangerously close to her face, his breath filling her nose as he whispered, "I'm sure Potter'll be first one here, don't you think? One pathetic girl for a the lot of blood traitors and Aurors. See, you served some use." Mulciber pulled her hair as his hand gripped the back of her neck, and though he didn't tighten his grab, he trailed his hand down until it rested upon her breast. Lily didn't breathe.
He pulled his hand up unexpectedly, backing up, and she didn't dare move, comprehending what he had stopped himself from doing. Mulciber headed to the door, "You make nice bait," he scoffed, and was gone.
Alone, Lily began to cry, one thought in her head- she never wanted to see the Order again even if it meant her own death. Mulciber was right. James would be leading the mission doomed to fail.
"Are you absolutely sure, Wormtail?" James asked, trying to remain calm. He had accepted it. He had accepted that Lily was dead, but this... This was the slightest hope that Lily was still there and that was all he needed.
"Y-yes," Peter replied, "I overheard Macnair talking to Crabbe about it in Knockturn Alley when I was on patrol. Something about Mulciber still keeping his hostage, the red haired..." he looked uncomfortable, "well, you don't need their exact wording. Of course, that isn't necessarily specific," Peter said discouragingly, "so if you think we shouldn't go after the lead, then that's good. Excellent, even."
"Are you kidding, Pete? We're going. Oh, you're golden, mate!" James jumped up, but Dumbledore merely stared at his interlocked fingers.
"James, we don't know if she is still alive." The old man glanced up. "I want you to know what we're doing here. This is an extremely high risk operation." James, who had been making his way to the door, swirled around to face Dumbledore.
"There's been nothing this week that suggests that the Death Eaters are rearing for an attack with us, offensive or defensive. We'd take his place by storm."
"There is no guarantee of that."
"Lily's alive," James all but hissed, because now he couldn't afford to think anything else, "and I'm getting her out of there, with or without your help. So unless you want to lose two of your best wands, Dumbledore, direct the Order to strike."
Lily didn't look up as the door opened this time. He descended the stairs with urgency.
"You," Mulciber growled, "talk. Now." She didn't reply, and his hand swung across her cheek, a sharp slap ringing through the air. Blood dripped out the corner of her mouth, a result of an earlier cut in her cheek that wouldn't heal properly.
"You being bait isn't enough. We need your headquarters."
"Aw, Voldemort isn't pleased with you, huh? What a shame," she sassed, "I'm not telling you—" With his next slap, Lily spat on his face and was pleased that some of the mixture of blood and saliva hit his eye. He wiped it off in disgust and turned away, and Lily breathed out. Maybe he was finished for the night, accepted her silence. But the next thing she knew, his hand was clamped around her throat and she was gagging.
"Oh, I made a promise not to do this," he snarled, and then squeezed her breast painfully with the hand not enclosed around her neck. Lily cried out in protest. "But that doesn't really matter now, does is?" Mulciber brought both his hand to properly grope her, and after days of captivity, Lily lost it. She gasped, fear coursing through her veins and tears streaming down her face. She knew she wasn't going to make it out of this cellar alive, but that didn't make right now, this impeding horror, any more bearable. It was worse, so much more terrible than she could have imagined. She'd never see what was left of her family again, never see the boys again- she hoped Sirius wouldn't feel guilty about this, and that Remus wouldn't bottle it up like all his other hurt, and that it wouldn't add to Peter's fear of being in the Order. Worse than anything and everything else, she'd never see James again... but even if there were a way for her to see his face, his eyes, hair, freckles, his smile one last time in these moments, Lily wouldn't want to. It would only intensify the reality of this hell. Mulciber ripped her shirt open.
"Please," she cried, terrified and violated and sick, "please, not this." He stopped to unlock the cuffs at her wrists, because after all, he knew she couldn't manage a move against him. Lily, starved and beaten and broken, was completely helpless.
"I've been so looking forward to this," Her ankles were now free of their cuffs as well, and though she tried to squirm, do anything, he pulled her down to the cold, stone floor, and stood over her. Lily sobbed. "You've always been a pretty thing for a Mudblood. Maybe not at this moment, though." He knelt down of top of her. She screamed and tried to kick, but his weight alone was enough to keep her pinned. Lily wept, her voice not able to scream any longer. She'd take a thousand duels with Voldemort, a thousand separate deaths, over this.
"Just think of your fiancé right now." Mulciber scraped his fingers over her skin as one hand held down her neck. "He's probably worried sick. Maybe he even thinks you're dead. Or worse yet," his voice was a heinous growling, "worse yet is that dear old Potter knows exactly what I'm doing right now." And he pushed her skirt up.
There was banging at the door. "Mulciber!" cried a raspy voice. "Mulciber, up here now!"
He stopped, hands at his still zipped fly. "Not now, Goyle," he called.
"The Dark Lord is here," Goyle yelled through the door, "so I would suggest you come immediately. He's called a meeting."
The look of fury on Mulciber's face exceeded all the anger he had displayed since Lily had been here, but he stood up nonetheless. "I will be there momentarily," he yelled to Goyle, but to Lily he bent by her ear and growled, "I'll finish you later." He kicked her in the ribs and then was gone.
With Lily's last remaining bit of consciousness, she realized she was happy in Voldemort's arrival. What wonderful timing.
As soon as Dumbledore had sent the signal, members began to roll in full force. There weren't many occasions where the Order of the Phoenix was able to assemble on call at full attendance due to the delicate balance many of the older members or members with family had to establish. Calling off work, disappearing for hours, and reappearing with possible injuries would cause suspicion of involvement in either the Order or the Death Eaters, neither of which resulted in any good. But this time, Elphias Doge and Edgar Bones took off work, and Fenwick and Vance and Podmore as well. Frank and Alice Longbottom arrived with paint stains on their hands, having come directly from renovating their new house. Hagrid managed to Floo from the school, and the Prewett brothers came immediately over from a dinner with the extended family. As the rest of the Order walked into headquarters, either buzzing with pre-mission excitement or anxiety, James noticed Marlene McKinnon lugging a travel bag and heading to the hallway.
"McKinnon!" The witch turned, noticed who called her, and kept walking. James pushed through the crowded room to catch up to her and followed her into the hallway. Not bothering to slow her pace or turn around, Marlene addressed James.
"I'm not going on the mission," the Healer started, her tone brusque, "I've got my own work here. And I don't have time for your protesting, Potter, because I have to set up. I've taken the liberty of borrowing some equipment from Mungo's." And suddenly the large bag over her shoulder made sense to James.
"Please tell me you didn't—"
"I did," she said, and turned into the room at the edge of the way. "And I told you not to protest. I only took what I know the Order wouldn't have and what Lily won't be able to manage without. There's no way she can stay in the infirmary at Mungo's, so we'll make due here." Now Marlene turned and looked at James, her gaze bracing. Since James met Marlene McKinnon, he'd admired her professionalism that hid one of the kindest witches he knew. She and Lily made quick friends, despite the ten year age difference. When Marlene looked at him now, her eyes were wide with the concern for her friend, but her tone that of a Healer delivering bad news. "Listen to me, James. Get in, get Lily out, and come straight back here. No distractions, no duels for honor, nothing. Every minute wasted now that we're so close is foolish. Are you ready?"
"What kind of a—"
"Ready to see the physical damage, the emotional turmoil, and repercussions that have yet to come from this? No. You want your Lily back but she won't come back your Lily. Not immediately. So get ready, and go, but get her straight back to me," she finished. He looked at her a moment longer before he moved, enough time for her face to spread into a small smile. "Go get Lily and come back because I'm tired of seeing you all depressed and angry." She kissed him on the cheek and sent him out the door.
"Wait-" James paused in the threshold, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Marlene raised her eyebrows. "Thank you," James told her sincerely, nodding towards the duffel bag. "You have no idea how much this means to me- and to Lily."
"Go," Marlene pushed him out into the hallway, and this time James abliged. Had James lingered a moment longer, he would have seen her steady composure break at the very real possibility that she would be able to do nothing to help Lily, despite her best efforts. The thought that Lily, and inevitably James, was lost was simultaneously too real and too absurd to conceive.
Marlene sighed and opened the bag of stolen equipment. Whatever happened, it was going to be a long night.
Sirius rolled up his sleeves, unsheathing his wand from his pocket and then rotating his shoulders. Beside him, James stared straight ahead, through the brush and toward the house.
"She's in there," he muttered.
"It's almost over, mate," Sirius assured him, "almost done." James nodded, restless now to initiate whatever combat would soon be necessary. "Wait for the signal, Prongs," Sirius warned, eyeing James suspiciously.
"What the hell is the hold up?" James puffed, looking now across the way to where other Order members should be in position. Knowing what to look for, he spotted Caradoc Dearborn in the brush. The wizard held up his fist.
"Signal to hold," muttered Sirius as Dearborn now held up one finger and swiped it.
"We're missing one person," James realized. "I don't care. I'm going—"
"Hold your hippogriffs, Potter, unless you want us all killed," growled a voice. Startled, James turned to see Mad-Eye moving quietly towards them. "Dearborn's holding for me," he continued, his eerie blue eye rolling round his head at top speed. "Dumbledore needed a word. But go ahead and— bastards." Moody's good eye darkened. James and Sirius only had time to exchange a panicked look before Moody was yelling, "Everyone move!" and a shower of sparks fell onto the ground from above.
"It's a trap," Sirius called out needlessly, running out into the courtyard where figures in masks poured into from the house. Before James could follow, Mad-Eye tugged at his arm.
"Get into the house anyway you can," he told him, shouting above the sounds of battle, "and as soon as you've got Evans, send your Patronus as signal and we cut out, got it?"
He nodded. "Can you see—" But Mad-Eye was already gone, right to the heart of the fight.
James followed, his mind, heart, and body racing like it never had before. The wand in his hand felt heavy, charged, angry and anxious. He was ready.
"Shit," Frank muttered, grunting in pain as he leaned against the column. He gripped his forearm, trying to stopper the blood that flowed freely from a gash at the crook of his elbow. James was bent in half next to him, trying to regain any sort of steady breathing. A masked Death Eater had landed a well placed Cruciatus on James moments before Frank Longbottom appeared from nowhere to throw the Death Eater's concentration off James. In return, he received the peculair cut on his wand arm. The curse seemed familiar to James, but he couldn't think of how he recognized that specific bit of Dark Magic. There were other priorities on his mind, such as running to the nearest bit of shelter available, which just happened to be a marble column near the house. There was clear spell damage to the foundation of the massive column. "Shit," Frank repeated as bits of rock shook loose from the marble. "This place isn't going to make it," the auror nodded to the house. "It's taking a heavy toll from all sides."
James stood straight, groaning as his torso pulled from the muscle knot it had gotten into. "I've got to get in now." The column gave off more rocks. James picked one up, transfiguring it into a peice of cloth. "Here," he said, taking Frank's arm and bracing the band of fabric taught. "You may want stand back a bit," James told Frank, and yelled, "Reducto!" The manor's outer wall began to crumble.
"Reducto!" Came another voice, the wall breaking away a bit more. James and Frank turned to see Emmeline Vance running toward them.
"Emmeline," James acknowledged. She seemed relatively unscathed, save for her slightly singed and smoking hair. Emmeline steadied her footing, taking a more firm stance next to James. "Sirius saw you run over here, but he's busy dueling with who I think was Crabbe. All three of us should be able to break through the stone now, don't you think?"
Frank stood straight, positioning his feet. "I'll worry about my arm's longevity later," he said, then positioned his wand.
"Reducto!" As the last of the rubble settled in the blast, James had his entrance into the house.
"I'm going find Alice," Frank yelled as he headed back into the main fight, and soon his form vanished in the haze. James and Emmeline climbed in through the hole.
"Any ideas?" Emmeline asked James, holding her wand at the ready. James shook his head. The manor, however, was mercifully empty. The Death Eaters had never planned for any Order member to make it inside.
"Lily? Lily!" James called, but he got no answer. He quenched the bit of true panic rising in his gut. "Alright," he said, "alright, look for any room any sort where they might be keeping her. Quickly."
Lily just can't hear you. That's why she didn't answer. James would believe nothing else.
Through the kitchen and past shriveled, terrified houseleves was a metal door with a bolt lock.
"Lily!" James called. No answer. He pointed his wand at the lock, and kicked down the now bent metal. The door was open in a matter of seconds, heavy metal ringing as it hit the wall, a result of the massive force of James pushing through. Without a word, James descended the stairs and ran to the body on the floor. She didn't stir.
"Lily," he touched her cheek and felt only shallow, infrequent breathing. She was filthy, covered in grime and dirt and blood. Tear streaks, now dry, cleared a small path of skin on her cheek, and James nearly passed out. Her shirt was in shreds, her purple skirt no better off. There was bruising all over, from her arms to torso to neck and her thighs. He carefully scooped her up, dead weight in his arms, but even still he could tell that she had lost far too much weight here. James positioned her head safely near the crook of his arm before turning around, back to the stairs where Remus now stood waiting.
"Is she-"
"I'm taking her out of here," James cut him off, taking the flight of stairs two at a time, "and Merlin help whoever stands in my way." Moony nodded in response, staring at Lily with an expression that moved from utter horror to stone cold in a matter of seconds. He looked back at James and nodded his head curtly to the left.
"We have the back door and beyond cleared temporarily, but run, James." Remus took off, back to the front courtyard and into the fray of battle. After making his way out the back door to his left, James found the rose garden to be echoing with sounds and shouts but blissfully empty. He prayed that no one— Order or Death Eater— had reestablished the Apparition boundary. Turning around, he pointed his wand into the house, muttering a clear Expecto Patronum. His stag stood in front of him. "Through the house, and into the battle," James instructed, "you're the all clear symbol."
The stag bounded away.
With one last glare at the Mulciber Mansion, James spun on his heel, and with a resounding pop, he and Lily disappeared.
