The Escape of Lady Luck – Chapter Three: Saturday
"So Harry, ready to start this glorious day and finally catch that bird you've been after for all but two days?" asked Sirius as he casually strolled out of his room and leaned sideways on the door frame, facing Harry who was sitting upright on a sofa in the living room, staring unfocusedly in deep thought.
Looking up at Sirius with a solemn look, Harry asked, "Am I doing the right thing? I mean, I barely know anything about this girl except for what I found out last night – which wasn't much. Every single time I'm around her, she makes me act like a … bloody hormone-driven teenager walking past a group of Veela."
"Is she a good kisser?"
"What?" Harry's head shot from its previous state so fast that Sirius winced at the resounding crack. Nursing the back of his neck, Harry quickly looked away from Sirius and settled into a dreamy trance. "I never quite thought of it that way but yeah… yeah, she is…"
Hiding a grin, Sirius continued, "Given the chance, would you shag her tonight?"
With a dreamy look still plastered on his face, Harry started automatically, "Yeah, defin – Sirius!"
Sirius roared with laughter but it was cut short as Harry, glaring, waved his hand in a swatting motion, sending Sirius tumbling backwards onto the carpeted floor with a weak banishing charm.
"For a second, just for a second, could you listen to my misgivings and not twist them into something dirty?"
Noting his godson's downcast expression, Sirius walked over and sat down in a sofa across from Harry. After imitating a fish breathing for a couple of seconds, he finally responded, "Look Harry, I know that things may be going a bit fast for you and that you don't like to have strangers enter your circle of trust so soon. But sometimes, that's just how life is."
Pausing for a moment to let everything sink in, Harry said, "I don't know, Sirius. It all seems so organized and planned, like it was meant to be!" Realizing what he had just said, Harry exclaimed with a shocked face, "There wasn't a new prophecy involving me, was there?"
Sirius gulped and paled dramatically. Without meeting his godson's eyes, he said slowly, "There was…"
"No…" Harry looked as though he had been thoroughly punched in the gut.
"…not."
"Sirius! It's early morning and we're going to the Quidditch game in two hours. Do you have to scare the life out of me a thousand times in that time span?" Harry raged as his face flushed deep red with indignant anger.
Chuckling, Sirius responded, "No, but you're just that gullible. Your expressions are always so amusing. When you get worked up over something that simple, you remind me of your mother very much. She used to get flushed all the time. Did I mention that she was gullible too? In fact, let me tell you the story of how James first asked Lily out on a date. It all started when…"
"Hey! Hey, wait for me!" hollered a raven-haired teenager as he sprinted out onto the Hogwarts courtyard filled with dozens of students, chasing a figure up ahead.
Ignoring the ruckus of students around her as well as the boy, the object of the boy's fascination admired the beautiful morning, clutching her books and pieces of parchment to her chest with both hands and enjoying the idyllic atmosphere of the bright and sunny day. Calmly walking in the direction of an empty bench where she could tranquilly work on her Ancient Runes essay, she mentally calculated what the boy would want with her this early on a fine May day.
Up to no good again, she thought with a little sigh. She truly could not be bothered with the concerned that would be undoubtedly presented her by her pursuer. If she had had it her way, such boys as the one tailing her would not exist in the world.
"Finally! Are you deaf? You could have stopped and waited for me like any good person would," panted the boy as he caught up to her and matched her pace, taking heaving breaths in an attempt to fulfill his lung's requirements. "After all, who could resist my manly charms and suave personality?"
"Anyone with half a brain won't be fooled by your man-whore tendencies, Potter," she responded dryly without looking beside her. "I really don't have the time to deal with your petty issues right now. Can't you go and bother someone else?"
"My, my, aren't we the hostile one? And I've barely said a word. You know what, Evans? Since you're such a dear student according to Flitwick, you should really do yourself a favor and apply a cheering charm on yourself once in a while. Maybe then, you'd be less likely to gripe at my every word," James Potter said, fixating his spectacles firmly into place as he grinned sideways.
Lily Evans, in all her auburn-haired glory, remained silent as she reached the wooden bench and sat down, placing her work material atop the table nearby. She expertly ignored the curious glances cast her way by several students who were within hearing vicinity of the conversation. They can all just go to Hell… with him, she surmised with a dark frown.
"Aw come on, Evans. I thought we were past the silent treatment phase," whined James as he sat down as close to her on the bench as he deemed safe before she would either blast him away or leave in a huff.
"Potter, I really haven't got the time for you so bug–"
"I need your help."
"What?" She finally turned to look at him. He was pouting slightly, making her roll her eyes. "I'm not going to fall for such a scheme again."
"No, you don't understand. We – I – I'm not planning to prank Sniv – err, Severus again," he hastily amended, remembering the time in his fourth year when he had used the pretense of wanting to make friends with Snape in order to get close enough to prank the Slytherin while he was socializing with Lily. The only indication that she had heard his case was the fractional increment he saw of her right eyebrow.
"You know I'm rubbish at Potions. That new essay ol' Sluggy gave us on Felix Felicis has been giving me headaches. We – that is Sirius and I – wanted to ask for your help with it." Noticing her bemused expression, James added, "Do you think you can spare some of your precious time tonight on two men who are down on their luck in the field of Potions?"
Lily did not know whether to laugh at the thought of James Potter asking for help or to scowl at the knowledge that she was probably being led by James again. In the end, she involuntarily let out a chuckle. "Yeah, nice try. No."
"But Lily, I'm being sincere! And you always help Remus when he asks," James pointed out.
"That's Remus, you can't compare yourself to him. Besides, who are you and what have you done with James Potter? The Potter I know would never in a million lifetimes ask for help – from anybody."
"Hey, that's not true. I've asked for help loads of times. Ask Remus how many times I've gone to him for help if you don't believe me," he defended.
Lily sighed. "So let me get this straight, Potter. You are asking for my help with a bloody Potions essay that should have taken you less than an hour to finish."
James gaped for a second before closing his mouth. "Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled, nodding.
What are you planning, Potter? Lily grimaced, suspicion rising. She opened her textbook and peered at the drawing of a variety of runes. She could feel his gaze on her as she continued identifying the runes on the page. Finally, after turning the page over, she looked back into his eyes. "When and where?"
James sighed visibly in relief, once more eliciting an eye roll from Lily. "Second floor unused classroom at the end of the west corridor. 7 PM sharp."
She nodded stiffly once. "Don't be late," she said before turning back to her work though try as she might, she could only think about the reason why Potter wanted her at the second floor classroom.
"Yes! Thank you, thank you, and thank you! See you tonight then, Evans," shouted James as he ran off, to meet with his cohorts no doubt.
Glancing back at his retreating figure as the sun shone brightly done upon where she sat, Lily thought to herself, the things I do for that boy.
"How would you know what my mother was thinking at that moment?" questioned Harry suspiciously.
"Well actually, I don't," Sirius said, "But from what Lily told me about this day after the two were married for some time, this seems like a reasonable procession of thought for her then. Despite what people may or may not tell you, Harry, your mother didn't hate your father. She just… resented him – a lot – and was annoyed by his mere presence for a couple of years."
"How is that story even remotely related to how I resemble my mother?" asked Harry impatiently.
"Have you so little faith in your father's legacy? No, that's only the first part of three, kind of like that Star Wars trilogy you showed me last year. I still think Han Solo is the smoothest player out there," responded Sirius.
Exasperated, Harry stared at Sirius blankly and stated, "Part two please?"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist. Merlin's balls, the kids today have no patience, none at all."
"Alright, let's see what you have so far," said Lily as she entered the bland, dusty classroom and sat down. Almost immediately, she started pulling out her books from her bag.
As he held his empty hands out, James sheepishly responded, "You're looking at it."
Lily raised her eyebrow. "I hope you don't expect me to let you simply copy my work, Potter. Remus may allow you to get away with that kind of stuff but I'm not Remus and I don't like you."
James had opened his mouth to retort but closed it and calculated her for a moment. Then he said, "You don't like me?"
"Should I? I happen to like nice men, Potter, and you are a bully," she replied as she continued withdrawing her potions textbook as well as supplemental books. "I hope you're ready to begin working because I don't have more than an hour to spare. Where's Black? I thought you said he'd be here."
"Err, he had other things come up," James answered vaguely, looking everywhere in the classroom but at her.
"Other things – things that are more important than homework? As in wooing some eager girl for the night? Seriously, I can't believe I even bothered to accept your plea. Clearly, you – either of you – aren't interested in scraping an A in Potions," Lily spat, livid that she had agreed to this only to find that she had wasted her time.
"Hey look, it's not like that. And I'm really sorry, Lily. It's just that I've been so busy with Quidditch and doing other things – with and without Sirius! And I'll have you know that he isn't out trying to draw quick shag from an unlucky girl. He's helping Peter with something unavoidable," said James defensively.
"Something?" Lily raised her eyebrows.
"Something," James confirmed, clearly not willing to concede more information about Black's whereabouts.
In an attempt to keep calm, Lily closed her eyes and started to take deep breaths while mentally visualizing creative ways to torture the insufferable bully who sat on the bench in front of her with his textbooks wide open but staring at her instead.
"Stop that," she finally bit out after a minute of studying her book, looking for ways to help him write the essay.
"Stop what?" James now rested his head on his hands casually as he continued to study her face with a slightly dreamy look.
She bit her lips. "That. You're staring at me."
"I'm not staring," James asserted softly, not shifting his gaze even slightly.
"Fine, what do you know about the limpwurt root?" The abrupt change in topic made James blink a few times but he remained in the same position, regarding her rather than the book.
"It's…. limp?" he replied weakly. That was the wrong thing to say.
"What the bloody hell have you been doing in class? Is there a reason I should give up my valuable time for you just so that you can understand what you should have learned in class?" shouted Lily, her cheeks reddening from fury.
Unfazed by her outburst, James shifted from his position and leaned back against his table. "Yeah well, Slughorn's an incompetent teacher."
"No, he's not!" Lily exclaimed, though this time her voice was softer. He had a point and she knew it, though there was no way he would trap her into conceding – she would not stoop to the level of stroking his already overinflated ego.
"Evans, news flash. A, you're easily the best potions student in our year – Snivellus doesn't count, he sucks up to you, and b, you're in the Slug Club," James pointed out, grinning at her indignant look.
"You're in it too," Lily said, after a moment of tense silence.
"Yes, I am but that's to be expected and beside the point," James said as he rolled his eyes before adding, "The point is, those who do well in Slughorn's class don't necessarily have talent, just his favour – not that I'm saying you're incompetent, you're not."
"I still don't see how this has anything to do with my personality even remotely resembling my mother's," remarked Harry, though he was certainly interested by Sirius's recount.
"You mean other than the fact that both of you are far too easy to tease?"
"I am not! And the moral of this story better not be that I'm as short-tempered as her. I don't snap that way at anyone, even Malfoy – I just ignore him… as much as possible."
"Right," replied Sirius skeptically. "But no, her anger management was always the best out of all of us. I remember James and I talking about that incident once and we agreed that it was probably 'that' time of the month for her. Or maybe that time of her life – the rebellious fiery teen girl. Still, a right firecracker in her own right, that girl. Wanna hear more or should we call it quits for now?"
Checking the time and seeing that it was half past seven, Harry said, "Might as well get breakfast first. I'm picking her up at nine so we'll have time to waste afterwards."
"Let's eat here, and order it up, will you? I can't be bothered to move from this comfortable position," Sirius grinned, setting his feet up and draped over the edge of the sofa.
Rolling his eyes, Harry walked to the telephone table, picked up a Time magazine and threw it rolled up at Sirius. "How about we have some omelets and bacon for breakfast?"
"Anything is fine, just make sure to order some cranberry juice, yeah?" responded Sirius.
"Roger that," as Harry picked up the phone to call for room service.
The two managed to work together civilly for just under an hour before sparks flew again. It was inevitable really. While two opposites work in harmony, they also clash often.
"What the devil do spider eggs have to do with the Felix Felicis potion?" cried Lily. As she had originally expected, this session of tutoring had not gone smoothly at all.
"Argh, I don't know!" exclaimed James in frustration, slamming his parchment down on the table as he received it from Lily.
Lily gave him a patronizing glare. "What a waste of my time," she muttered.
"Look, Evans – Lily. I don't give a damn about the function of spider eggs nor do I care about how limp a limpwurt root is. The reason I asked you to come here isn't because I needed help with my Potions essay, though it's clear that I do. I –"
"What?" Lily asked sharply. She could not believe what she was hearing. James had purposely wasted her time. She did not care whether the day was Saturday or Wednesday. Wasting her time for no reason crossed a limit that she had not thought even James was capable of doing. So absorbed was she in her predicament that she had stopped thinking of the boy nearby her as Potter and rather as James.
"I…" James halted again, clearly unsure if he ought to say the words forming on the tip of his tongue.
Lily crossed her arms and glared at him in response.
"I'd like another chance!" he blurted out, lurching to the front so that his face was close to hers.
Despite a deep surge of anger that welled up inside her, Lily blushed. "What are you talking about?"
"Look," he was quick to explain, "I know I haven't been the best person to be around all these years. I've never gotten along with Snape, who is your oldest friend. But Lily, I'd like another chance. If nothing else, then to prove that I'm not who I once was. I've changed, Lily. You said that you'd think about it if I could change and I have."
Lily barely spared him a glance before slamming her books shut and stuffing them into her bag with violent force. I don't have the time for this… nor the patience. She stood up roughly. "You've not changed at all, Potter. Wasting my time as though you own it. Being arrogant to those around you. You say you've become different but I've yet to see one good quality in you."
She briskly moved away from the table and started marching towards the door when she felt a hand grab her stray wrist and turn her around. Face still red, she turned to face James as he stood up as well and closed the distance between them. Is that…, she found herself thinking before she shook herself out of the stupor. No, James Potter could never express any remorseful emotions. In all her six years of experience with him, not once had he ever looked sorry for his actions. She did not – could not – believe he had started now.
James leaned down a little so that he and Lily were at eye level. "Please Lily," he pleaded. "You've known for a long time that I like you. I promise you that I am willing to change; I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust – your respect. I won't bully anyone anymore. All I ask of you is one trip to Hogsmeade together. Please, I really like you… just one chance."
Lily stared into his eyes and found nothing but compassion. She could feel her resolve melting as James held her hand and caressed it softly. She tried to pull it back but he held on firmly, making sure to not hurt her in the process. "I…" she faltered.
"Would you be so cruel?" he asked softly, not breaking eye contact with her.
"I – I'm not cruel," she whispered. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes unexpectedly. Her lips quivered.
"Then give me a chance," he pleaded.
Lily's mind flashed back to all the times he had tormented her throughout the years, directly or indirectly. In doing so, she realized that he had never actually insulted her. He had only done his deeds in the hope that he could impress her, in his own twisted way. While she could not condone his methods, she could now acknowledge that he had never meant to hurt her. Unbidden, a tear streaked down her face.
She blinked as she felt James's digit on her face, wiping the tear away. She looked down, not knowing why she felt so emotional just then.
"You won't regret this, I promise," he said, as he gently lifted her chin. Another tear fell down, and another. James wiped each one away until Lily could bear it no longer.
Lily sniffled and turned away so that James was now facing her back. She nodded slowly as she wiped away more tears. "One chance," she agreed quietly, her voice shaky due to the tears. "Don't blow it."
With those words, she strode to the door and out of the classroom, leaving a very satisfied, if a little misty-eyed, James Potter.
"And I think you know what happened after that," ended Sirius.
"All too well Sirius, all too well," sighed Harry.
"Damn Harry, if I were a girl in some alternate reality, I would totally have a crush on you by the way you're looking," remarked Sirius as he saw Harry walk out of his room.
"Thanks Sirius, I'd like to say that I had a good role-model in fashion."
"Your words do flatter me so, Harry. Now, remember the essential eight today when you're with that girl alone. Number one: always, and I mean always, protect the knight before making a move for the queen. You never know what will happen. Understand me?" asked Sirius in a very serious tone.
Ignoring the question, Harry posed a question of his own, "Do we have to go through this every time I go out on a date? Don't you think I've had enough to know the essential eight rules of dating by now?"
"Fine fine. Just go and have a nice day. I'll be around if you need me, just give me a shout yeah?" said Sirius, as he stopped leaning against the wall and joined Harry to walk to the door to their suite.
Donning his stylish jacket, Harry looked at this godfather and narrowed his eyes. "Sirius, are you going to seek out Anne?"
Pausing mid-step, Sirius turned and asked, "How'd you know that?"
"You wound me, Sirius. Do you truly take me to be blind?"
Sirius frowned at him. Chuckling, Harry pointed at Sirius' bedroom. "I saw all your little notes at which hotel she might be staying at, pseudo-stalker you."
Properly embarrassed, Sirius confessed, "Alright, you got me. I gotta play too, you know. Give me a break."
"Okay well, let's see if we can meet up after the Quidditch match. I'll see you later, Sirius," said Harry as he walked out the hotel room. Sticking his head back in, Harry remarked, "Remember, don't do anything I wouldn't do," and promptly disappeared down the hallway.
Shaking his head, Sirius muttered to himself, "Well that doesn't leave me many options, does it?"
The day was perfect for Quidditch with the sun's bright and radiant rays splashing across Monaco. Light and fluffy clouds were spread across the brilliant blue sky. Despite all the magnificence of his surroundings, Harry decided that the most beautiful thing in his field of vision was the sight of his Lady Luck walking towards him.
She was wearing a white ensemble consisting of an elegant cardigan and a pair of flawless Capri, complementing her long and shimmering golden locks that were flowing in the slight breeze. Mesmerized, Harry could not look away from the angel walking towards him.
Giggling at his state, the object of Harry's affections lightly tapped his cheeks as he landed back to reality. "Mon dieu, Monsieur Potter, are you like this whenever you see a pretty girl walk towards you?" she teasingly asked.
"Only if they are as captivating as you," answered Harry solemnly. "I'm afraid you've already stolen my heart and made me your everlasting servant."
"Well then, as my first command as your mistress, I am ordering you to allow me to have the time of my life. Understood?"
"My will is to serve, mistress," said Harry with a straight face.
The blonde woman could not keep up the role anymore and burst into laughter, allowing her chiming laughs to grace the world around her. "Well, let's hail a taxi now and get to the stadium. Will you do the honors?"
"Alright," replied Harry. "Taxi!" he called.
A bright yellow car pulled up and the two hopped in. "Stade Louis II, s'il vous plait," said Harry.
"Magnifique, Monsieur Potter. Well versed in French as well? I don't think I can let you go now, especially after your impressive showing in humor and different languages," she remarked.
Cracking a smile, Harry rubbed the back of his head and said, "Well, that's a third of my French vocabulary. The other parts are Merci and Bonjour."
Dramatically putting a hand to her forehead and pretend to faint, the blonde bombshell exclaimed, "And here I thought you were a man of all men - un chevalier."
Smiling at the subtle complement, Harry looked out the window of the taxi, taking in the scenery of the street. Local citizens were all calmly strolling, going about their daily routine. Many were glancing at the wares of the kiosk merchants while others were sipping their drinks on a restaurant patio. The normalcy of the street was what entranced Harry, who longed to be just a face in a crowd.
"A knut for your thoughts?"
Sighing and looking into Lady Luck's clear blue eyes, Harry responded, "Nothing much, just admiring the scenery."
"That's nice," came the response as she put her head on his shoulder. "Just don't think too much. You'll get a headache," she cutely remarked.
Cracking another smile, Harry just stayed silent, enjoying the peaceful moment. What did I do to deserve her, he asked himself. His Lady Luck was everything he had imagined the perfect woman would be – beautiful, intelligent, compassionate, and above all, understanding.
"That will be 48 Euros please," announced the driver, shaking the pair back down to reality.
Grabbing at his wallet, Harry pulled out 60 Euros and handed over the money. "Keep the change."
"Ah, merci."
Helping his female companion out of the taxi, Harry finally took a look at the stadium. Surrounded by buildings, the stadium still managed to stand out and make a firm impression of architectural magnificence. Nine spectacular arches lay above the main entrance, sharply contrasting with the bright blue sky.
"It is a beautiful piece of architecture, non?" the blonde woman asked.
"Yes well, the French are known for the beautiful architecture and women," countered Harry.
Chuckling at the harmless slight, the two walked into the stadium looking for their seats.
"You know," Harry began softly as he followed her in their search, "I still haven't had the luxury of knowing your identity."
Without turning back, she responded, "All will be revealed in time, Harry. For now, let us enjoy the game and each other's company."
Harry imagined he could see her almost-ignorant, blissful smile as she said this. He opened his mouth to speak again but he never got a chance to vocalize his thoughts as a hooded figure roughly pushed past him and his Lady Luck. "Move it, scarhead!" the man yelled brusquely, not bothering to stick around after the encounter.
"Mon dieu, the hooligans at Quidditch matches are simply atrocious. Wouldn't you say that as well, Harry?" the woman asked.
Harry didn't respond. Now where have I heard that before?
"Scarhead?" he frowned. "No one calls me that except for – Malfoy! What the hell is he doing here?"
Seeing Harry's distress, the blonde woman grabbed his hand and pulled him over to their designated seats. With a passing curious glance at the hooded figure now several rows above them, she consoled, "Forget about it, Harry. I'm sure it was just for some petty reason. He does not seem like the bright bulb out of the bunch."
"Ah, you're probably right," conceded Harry as he watched the players fly out of their respective tunnels.
"And Monaco wins the match! What a catch from seeker Patrice Evra as he pushed his Firebolt Mk-II to its limit and brushed off the opposing seeker in their duel for the snitch! Simply scintillating, Quidditch folks! I hope to see you folks next week as Monaco takes on Paris Saint-Germain, a battle for the top two positions! Until then, good bye and have a wonderful day."
"It's a good thing this isn't an international match. That was a disgraceful showing! I saw the snitch at least three times before either of the seekers made any move. Their positioning was all wrong; they should have penetrated through the middle and then diverged out to the side and above to get a full view of the stadium," exclaimed Harry as he dissected the match.
Smiling at her partner's words, Lady Luck pulled Harry up out of his seat and began to exit the stadium. "Oui, they would not have stood a chance in a match against you," she told him fondly, grabbing his arm. "Let's forget about those subpar athletes and focus on something more interesting."
As the couple entered the foyer of the stadium, Harry was grabbed by the scruff of his neck and pulled back, detaching him from Lady Luck. Years of training kicked in and Harry immediately retaliated, twisting underneath the arm of his assailant and twisting the aggressor's wrist with his left hand even as he flicked his right wrist, beckoning for his wand. Pushing his assailant to the floor using an arm bar with his wand pointed at offender's head, Harry glared. Other spectators around them barely paid a glance as they exited.
"Had enough yet?" asked a familiar dry voice beneath him.
"Sirius?"
"The one and only," came the muffled reply.
Sheepishly, Harry released the pressure on the person beneath him and holstered his wand. "Sorry about that. You know I don't like being surprised."
"Yeah," the man groaned, flexing his body. "Tell that to my back next time."
Harry frowned. "Yeah well, if you –"
Ignoring Harry, Sirius grabbed his arm and said to Harry's companion, "Sorry, I need to borrow your boyfriend for a quick second! Thanks for understanding, love," before leading him further away, leaving a bemused Lady Luck.
Once Sirius had led him a ways away, Harry flung himself out of the older man's reach gruffly. "What's your bloody problem? I'm on a damn date! You can't just come like this and attempt to drag me away." After taking a deep breath, he looked into the serious face of his godfather and sighed. "Sorry, hormones and all. Okay, what's the problem?"
"You remember yesterday where we fought with Snivellus and the inbred twat? Well, the twat in question must have used his family connections and got the ministry involved. They've sent officials outside the stadium, who, as we speak, are waiting for you to exit."
Softly swearing under his breath, Harry glanced back at his date, waiting dutifully for him with only a small crinkle marring forehead to indicate her wariness of the situation. "I - what about her? We can't get her involved."
Understanding Harry's concern, Sirius paused for a moment, thinking. "Look, what about if you take your date to the players' dressing rooms and sneak out through their entrance? The ministry officials probably won't be looking at the players and you've got enough pull with the public to make them help you out."
"It's good, but what about you? I can't have you at Scimgeour's mercy."
"Especially after what you did to his wife during the Christmas party," added Harry dryly.
"We promised that it wouldn't ever be mentioned again! And it's not my fault that she hasn't had a good lay in her life; a good dose of Sirius was exactly what the healer ordered."
"You may have two heads but the one on top seems non-existent at crucial times," said Harry. "You take her and leave through the players' exit. I'll go deal with Scimgeour and see what he wants. Let's meet back at our suite and we'll go from there."
Not waiting for a response, Harry dragged Sirius back to his Lady Luck. "Sorry," he apologized hastily. "Something came up and I need to take care of it immediately. Go with Sirius. I'll be in contact as soon as possible."
"I'm not an idiot, Harry so don't treat me like one. What is really going on?" questioned the blonde.
He looked at her for a moment and could sense nothing but honest curiosity and righteous anger. Moving his hand through his hair, Harry glanced at Sirius and gave an almost imperceptible nod, sighed and confessed, "Look, we're in this mess right now because some people attacked us yesterday and the ministry found out about it. Now, we have two choices. Either Sirius and I walk out of here and get arrested, or you go with Sirius and exit through the players' entrance while I stall them."
Sirius abruptly grabbed Lady Luck and walked against the flow of the crowd. The immediate struggle that ensued made Harry narrow his eyes slightly. The counters she was applying to Sirius's hold reminded him strongly of the ones he himself knew, that he had learned at the Auror Academy. She stopped struggling after a moment however and looked back, seeking Harry's eyes. They met and Harry tried to put as much reassurance into his gaze as possible. Glumly, he turned away from her. "Cometh the hour, cometh the man. Sadly, that man is always me."
"Look, I know you're worried but really, it's Harry. He's faced much worse than some auror trainees and the Minister for Magic. The best thing to do right now is to relax. Champagne?" Sirius asked airily.
Resembling a tense tiger, Lady Luck exploded, "What kind of a guardian are you? Your charge is about to wander into another dangerous situation where at best, he'll be turned into an effigy in wizarding media, and at worst, sent to that horrid prison you call Azkaban."
Unfazed by her concern, Sirius calmly handed her a glass of wine and replied, "Harry can take care of himself. It's not worth being worried at every stupid action he takes. If that were the case, I'd already have enough heart attacks for an obese person's entire lifetime – and I'm only 43!"
Stifling a guilty giggle, she pulled her glare down from Sirius's face abashedly and took a dainty sip of his offered wine. "You are really a piece of work. To be able to keep a cool head in a situation like this, I commend you."
Upon hearing these words, Sirius grinned and responded casually, "Just so you know, I'm not one for robbing the cradle. Especially if the cradle in question contains the mysterious love interest of my godson."
"Oh, the cool and suave Sirius Black turning down an open invitation? The legends back home must have your reputation woefully wrong," she bantered, but the humour died almost instantly amidst her concern for Harry. "What do you think they'll do to Harry?"
"Harry has enough power and skill to take down the entire of wizarding Britain if he chooses. He knows that as does the Ministry. Scrimgeour, er- our Minister, knows better than to trap Harry into a corner because then the prey would turn into the predator. In my opinion, I think that this is some political ploy being pulled by a person behind the scenes. We may never know what the objective behind this ploy is but if it was to annoy Harry, it appears the ploy was successful."
Looking pensive, the blonde paused for a moment, processing the information. Then, she brightly responded, "Well, looking at the positives, it is never dull when one is with Harry. Which way is the bathroom?"
Sirius pointed her in the direction of the loo and stared after her as she went. When the door to the loo closed, his thoughts turned to Harry and he silently prayed for his godson's well being.
Harry was escorted into a rather nondescript room by two aurors, who flanked him. The walls were a dusty white; he could see dark spots where the accumulated dirt had gotten so thick that not even cleaning charms could completely remove them. Just past the center of the room lay an old, if sturdy, brown desk. Beyond it, a man with a beard resembling a lion's mane sat on a swivelling chair, hands pressed together in thought. To the side, embers burned in the fireplace, giving what little light to which the room was exposed. Harry sent the fire a curious glance; above the center of the room, an ill-maintained chandelier hung down. Light could easily have brightened the room from there.
Frowning, Harry strolled across the room, flicking his wrist to draw his wand out. In front of the desk, he waved his wand in a swishy motion, conjuring a plush armchair, into which he sat, staring bluntly at the man across him.
"Ah Harry Potter, how are you today? I'm afraid I've come to you under inauspicious circumstances. I heard you graduated from the Auror Academy with the highest marks in your class. I must commend you on your stellar performance. We – the Ministry, that is – eagerly –" British Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour's welcome speech was cut short as Harry spared him but a glance before interrupting rudely.
"What is it exactly that you want, sir? Unlike you, I have a stunning girl waiting for me to continue our date. Must you keep me away from that?"
Scrimgeour's primly pruned mustache twisted as his facial expression turned into a sneer. "Understand this, Potter. The world is not at your disposal to destroy and disrupt. I have before me an official report stating that Harry Potter and Sirius Black were seen duelling in public with muggles around. How arrogant are you?"
"Let's get some basic principles down, Minister. To duel, as you put it, an opponent is needed, correct? Who exactly was it that I was duelling? Could it be that your official report comes from the same person who has seemingly lined your pockets with gold and future favours?"
Sputtering indignantly at the Harry's accusation, Scrimgeour turned a dangerous shade of purple, his face almost resembling that of Harry's Uncle Vernon. "Let's get one thing straight, Potter. I do not accept bribes of any kind. Nor do I accept such accusations. You'd do well to remember it!"
"What did Malfoy and Snape ask you to do?" Harry asked indifferently, ignoring Scrimgeour's previous reply.
"The people you are speaking of did not – nor could they – ask me to do anything. I am my own man and play to my own agenda. Are we clear?" asked Scrimgeour, standing up abruptly. To Harry, the man did not look imposing. "Take note that I have eyes and ears everywhere, Potter. I'm watching your every move."
"Oh? I am still curious as to why you would listen to Snape and Malfoy, both known former death eaters, over me. Perhaps you may be your own man and have your own agenda, yet you are a mere chess piece for others. Keep in mind that all the world is a stage, Minister," retorted Harry. "But now, I must digress. You know, I thought that Snape and Malfoy were just being petty and wanted to start another playground spat. Now that the ministry is taking action, I'm wondering what the motive is behind all this. After all, the two goons yesterday wouldn't inform the ministry anything unless they were ordered to do so... and they only take orders from one man. I'm sure you know where I'm going with all of this, Scrimgeour."
"Listen to me closely and carefully. The Minister for Magic does not bow down nor serve any other person. Not you and certainly not D - "
"You will do well to remember that threatening me is bad for your personal health! Behind this handsome face is a trained assassin, capable of vanquishing Voldemort and many others. Strangely, most people seem to somehow forget this fact. Odd, isn't it, how we're in your office and yet others are listening. Isn't that right, Dumbledore?" injected Harry as the flames of the fireplace to the right of Scrimgeour's desk went out suddenly, leaving the room in perpetual darkness. Scrimgeour turned swiftly and pointed his wand at the fireplace, his eyes flicking between the fireplace and Harry narrowly.
"I believe that our time here has come to an end," Harry said. "Perhaps I may suggest apprehending Snape and Malfoy and allowing them to testify under veritaserum? You might get more information out of their slimy tongues than I could ever give you. After all, I'm being followed like a wanted fugitive and they certainly cannot be trusted. Well, I'd say it was a pleasure but I've been raised with morals teaching me not to lie. Have a good day, Minister!" With that, he spun on his heel and walked out the door, leaving behind three surprised men in the dark.
"Well, that's certainly interesting. That doesn't answer our problem now though. What are Snape and Malfoy up to?"
"I don't know, Sirius. I'm not even certain I want to find out. I've had enough exposure to them to last me a lifetime!" Harry retorted. They, along with Lady Luck, were lounging in the living room of the penthouse suite. Harry had just before narrated to Sirius the conversation in the room at the stadium.
"I agree with you, Harry. I don't think it's a good idea for you to investigate those two," Lady Luck said, her expression thoughtful as she bit her lower lip gently. To herself, she muttered quietly, "Je ne veux pas vous perdre dans cette bataille."
"That's right," Sirius agreed, sending an appreciative look towards her. "We came here to enjoy your graduation and have a good time at the casino. No more detective work for the next while!"
Harry smiled at the two warmly for their gestures in trying to lighten the mood. "But the worst part was that Dumbledore was listening in on that conversation as well. What would he be doing there?"
Lady Luck sprang to attention. She asked, "Albus Dumbledore was spying on you and the British Minister for Magic for a situation as minuscule as you and Mr. Black breaking the Statute of Secrecy?"
Sirius was also staring curiously at him over this piece of previously unshared information. "Dumbledore, you say? How can you be sure, Harry?"
Harry sent his godfather an incredulous look expectantly. He saw the light dawn on Sirius's face an instant later.
"Right, forgot that you could sense others' auras nearby."
Over the next few minutes, an uneasy silence settled upon the room. Sirius, as usual, was the one to break it. "On a lighter note, I noticed a poster on one of the stadium's walls. Something about a maze of spells. Sounds like something fun for couples," he stated, hinting strongly with his voice and eyes at Harry and the blonde woman.
Harry looked at his Lady Luck inquisitively, asking whether or not she wanted to go. She shrugged in reply, as though to say she could care less as long as the time was spent together.
"Right then," Harry addressed, standing up. "I'd better go change into something a little more appropriate for a maze."
"Le Labyrinthe des Sortileges... nice name, isn't it?" remarked Harry as he and his Lady Luck arrived at an area that resembled an amusement park in size. Imposing green hedges dominated the view as each wall was a minimum height of ten meters, blocking the rays of the reddening sunlight and casting the ground into shadow. The couple approached a nearby booth, where there was a small line of people who sought entrance to the maze.
"I have heard of this place before. There are puzzles and other riddles to solve in order to progress further into the maze, I believe," said the blonde, eyeing the dark pathway that resembled the entrance vaguely. "You would not be planning any nefarious deeds against an innocent victim like me in some dark corner, would you?"
Cracking a smile, Harry raised his hands up in mock surrender. The expression on his face gave the impression of a misinterpreted soul indicating, Who, me?
"Bon soir et bienvenue, madame! Pour deux?" asked the receptionist at the toll booth.
"Oui, vingt-trois Euros?" responded the blonde in kind, handing over the money.
"Nous espérons que c'est le fun pour vous!" The receptionist motioned for them to pass the booth.
Entering the maze, the two immediately had to choose which direction to turn to. "Well, using a point-me spell kind of defeats the purpose, I propose we head left," stated Harry.
An eyebrow elegantly arched, Lady Luck turned to Harry and replied, "Non, have you never heard the proverb saying When in doubt, turn right?"
Harry grinned. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to your every demand and simply reply, 'Yes, dear'?"
Smiling mischievously, the blonde softly patted Harry's cheeks and said, "I'm glad you've got such a great understanding of your role in our relationship, dear." With a flourish, she held out her hand. When Harry relented by holding her proffered hand, she promptly began to drag him to the right.
They followed the narrow, dark path down until they came upon a sphinx, detailed after the great statues in Egypt. Harry had a sudden sense of foreboding as his mind flashed back to his experience in the Triwizard tournament in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Enshrouded by shadow, the atmosphere of the immediate area was quite downcast and heavy, further resembling the maze all those years ago on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. "Answer this riddle and I shall let you pass," came the deep voice of a speaker behind the sphinx. Harry was suddenly reminded that this was but a muggle representation of a sphinx and was not an enchanted guardian in truth. "I am a builder. Buyers purchase my stock but do not use it. Users use my stock but they cannot perceive their use of it. What do I build?"
Harry lost all the color on his face as he paled. He felt himself go stiff as a board and he vaguely heard Lady Luck talking to him in consideration. "Oh, this one is a tough one. Resembles the one you had to pass in the Triwizard tournament," she chuckled. "Hmm, let's see. Buyers purchase my stock... but do not use it... life? No no..."
Strong winds buffeted Harry, making him shiver. He gazed out the small, open windows placed on the corridor where he currently hid. Torrents of rain fell down on the well manicured lawn of Malfoy Manor, which glistened even in the perpetual darkness that the storm created, despite the enchanted lamps stuck on the walls of the building that gave light to the grounds below. The corridor upon which he crouched was not well lighted, instead relying on the natural shine of the moon to brighten the area via the numerous mirrors that adorned the side wall.
The gray sky and downcast atmosphere epitomized Harry's emotional state. He had come in stealth with the hope that he would be able to rescue his friend, Neville Longbottom, but he was quickly losing hope. He had passed the cellar where he knew most prisoners were kept on his way to where he crouched now; he had seen nothing but the unseeing eyes and the mutilated corpses of various prisoners. He shut his eyes to drown out the pain he felt at being forced to witness such a tragic sight. Many of those dead in the rotten cellar had been muggleborn students, some of whom he had known at Hogwarts. A single tear escaped his left eye as he strengthened his resolve to find Neville. There would be justice delivered today and he would rescue Neville from the clutches of the monsters who occupied Malfoy Manor.
He flicked his wrist and his wand jumped into his hand. His fingers tightened around the grip and with his jaws clenched, he stood up briskly and began walking onward to where he knew other large storage rooms.
Soon thereafter, he reached a door. His left hand reached out to wring the doorknob when he suddenly felt a stinging sensation in the palm of his left hand. Silently, Harry berated himself for his foolishness. Of course the door would be cursed, so as to keep out intruders. He pointed his wand at the knob and jabbed it. The door knob gave off an eerie green glow amidst the darkness of the corridor and Harry knew it was cursed. Swallowing thickly, he whispered, "Confringo."
The doorknob shattered into thousands of shards and the door opened inwards with a whine. As he entered cautiously, Harry was immediately blasted by the strong stench of decay and age-old urine. He wrinkled his nose in disgust but it was no use. He barely managed to rein in the contents of his stomach as he came upon the horrible sight of skeletons kept isolated in prison-like cells.
Two particular corpses caught his attention and he had to avert his eyes quickly from the perversion that met his eyes. A man and a woman lay with unseeing eyes. Their faces were so brutally mutilated that he could only tell of their gender by their sexual organs – or what was left of them. Dried blood caked the countless scabs that protruded from various parts of their body as well as the ground beneath them where much of the blood lay in a dried pool. Once more, Harry closed his eyes to shut out the pain he felt. How could anyone be so savagely violated? How could the death eaters torture someone so as to leave their victim completely unrecognizable? How could they desecrate the bodies of their victims so?
Harry choked back the threatening sobs as his wand arm hung uselessly at his side. There would be time for mourning these people later. There would be time for raging at Dumbledore and his chess-like manoeuvres later. These thoughts gave Harry the strength he needed to lift himself from his rest against the bars. He tried to ignore the blood beneath his feet as he trudged quietly towards the door at the end of the cells.
As he neared the door, Harry paused to the sound of hysterical laughter. He saw red; he could recognize that laughter and the following babyish voice anywhere. Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Is the little Longbottom enjoying my hospitality?" Bellatrix cackled. "Crucio!"
No, Harry roared inside his mind as he was forced to listen to the piercing screams of his friend. Tears glistened in his eyes, threatening to fall again. He would not let Neville be tortured into insanity to suffer the same fate as his parents! He checked the doorknob for spells. This time, it did not glow. Sighing in relief, he grabbed the knob with his left hand and twisted, wand positioned in front him with his right hand. Nothing happened.
"No, no, no!" he whispered fiercely. The screams had stopped now and Bellatrix's laughter resumed.
"Our guest of honour," Bellatrix mocked. "Would you like some more entertainment?"
"Hmm," she pretended to contemplate. Then she let out an evil chuckle. "Yes, let's see if you can survive this. Ickle Longbottom, I want to see how you fare when you can't breathe! Diffindo!"
Harry's blood froze as he suddenly heard gurgled sounds from his friend. Stepping back, he said, "Reducto!"
The jet of red light sped towards the knob but as soon as it connected, it bounced back and Harry had to twist suddenly as the light passed by him and blew a hole in the ceiling. Debris fell down around him but Bellatrix seemed not to hear on the other side of the door as she continued to take sick pleasure in torturing Neville.
"No, boy!" she screamed. "You can't die just yet! No, I've got more plans for you. Episkey!"
She continued, "Your parents are already quivering in excitement, or is that pain? And to think you were the one that caused them such grief, making them cry blood. I personally liked that touch. Didn't you, boy? Tell me, how did it feel? How did it feel to murder your own parents?"
Consumed by rage, Harry continued his efforts to unlock the door to no avail as his spells all deflected back towards him, causing more damage in the cells. He could hear the deep gasps as Neville struggled to breathe properly, his jugular vein having been cut open and healed again. "Go to hell!" Neville croaked.
Bellatrix laughed hysterically once more. "Foolish whelp! You waste your last words trying to insult me? Hmm, I think you need to be taught another lesson. What do you think, my dear Rodolphus?"
"Of course I agree, Bella," Rodolphus Lestrange's eager voice rang out.
"I think he needs to learn the meaning of suffering. Don't you? Let's try for the vein again, shall we? Diffindo!"
Harry froze, unable to bear any more of the pained struggles of his friend. He shook violently as rage emanated from him and permeated the surroundings, creating a sizzling atmosphere.
Bellatrix's bored voice came through once more. "I think I've had enough. Episkey! Alright, Longbottom. I've decided to have mercy on you. Are you ready to die? Any last words?" she asked, but did not give Neville a chance to respond. "I didn't think so. Avada –"
She was unable to finish the killing curse as Harry finally blasted the door open. She fearfully looked at the intruder. "Potter," she gasped.
Without waiting for her to recover from his sudden appearance, Harry made a flinging motion with his wand at Bellatrix and sent as powerfully as he could, "Stupefy!"
The older woman didn't stand a chance and was hurled back several feet from her crouching position, wand flying away out of control. Harry was moving before she landed with a thud; three beams of sickly orange zoomed past where he had stood, through the door where distinct explosion sounds rumbled. He ducked another purple jet as he raced behind the nearest recliner for temporary cover. No doubt Rodolphus would be looking for revenge; the grim thought gave him sick satisfaction. He knew with crystal clarity in his mind that this night would end with him ending one or both of the Lestranges' lives.
The sofa he was hiding behind ignited, causing him to leap back; he immediately conjured a material shield. Casting a normal shield would be suicide in this close and hostile space. Two killing curses struck the metal shield, and it rapidly began melting under the power. Harry flicked his wand at the useless shield, transfiguring it hastily into a poorly defined wolf and sent it leaping at the general direction of the source of one of the killing curses.
"You were foolish to come here tonight, Potter," someone said as Harry weaved his way around more deadly spells. He recognized the speaker as Yaxley, a highly ranked Death Eater who had claimed a fair few Aurors' lives.
"What did you hope to accomplish? You think you can save your pathetic friend?" taunted Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus' brother. The man chortled, "He'll be lucky if he survives the ho –"
Harry silenced the man with a Sectumsempra to the neck. Rabastan stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide and making gurgling noises before collapsing. He sidestepped another curse and rapped himself with his wand to disillusion himself when he heard a loud bang behind him. He was suddenly thrown forward and knocked to the carpet face first as the wall behind him crumbled, showering the room with debris. He knew his disillusionment charm hadn't worked when a spell landed a few inches from his face. He winced as flying shrapnel cut his face and other exposed areas of his upper body.
Rolling as he turned, Harry's heart sank as he witnessed a murky brown spell heading toward him. Knowing he didn't have time to deflect the spell with his wand, he desperately thrust his left hand forward in an attempt to muster a shield – any shield.
It was too late. The spell smashed through his weak shield and ploughed into his wand arm, tossing his wand aside useless and immediately forming an expanding black spot on his forearm skin. Harry screamed in pain as the unknown spell sent excruciating pain through his nerves. Despite his pain, he managed to see a green glow jutting from the end of an enemy Death Eater's wand.
In a horrible instant, he knew he was outmatched; he would not survive. I'm so sorry, Neville, he thought helplessly at the still-writhing boy across the room near a lit fireplace.
"No!" he heard Rodolphus scream. The incoming green light was deflected away from Harry. "No, he's mine! He killed my wife and brother; he's mine!" the man raged.
"The boy's too dangerous," Harry's would-be killer retorted.
"No, the boy isn't to be killed. The Dark Lord would not be pleased. We shall present him the boy and when we do, we will be rewarded beyond our wildest imaginations!" Yaxley growled.
"To hell with the Dark Lord's wishes! Potter dies today – by my hands," Rodolphus shouted angrily, advancing menacingly towards Harry. "Crucio!"
Harry writhed on the ground helplessly and in immense pain. The ever-growing wound on his arm grew larger and its pain was compounded by the Unforgivable curse. It was lifted after a moment and as Harry panted in relief, he caught a murderous glint in Rodolphus' eye. The green beam came a split second later and having expected it, Harry barrel-rolled forward with a monumental effort.
That was all it took for the other Death Eater. Harry knew he could not avoid the oncoming killing curse. He glanced at Rodolphus and saw the man raising his wand desperately but Harry knew that the curse could not be stopped this time. In that moment, Harry found the shatterpoint to the situation. With barely a twitch, he whispered, "Accio Lestrange."
For a second, he was aware of the green light of the killing curse heading his way as well as Rodolphus, who had been caught off guard by his wandless summoning charm. Then, he felt himself lifted violently from his position and he knew no more.
"-rry? Harry! Are you okay, Harry? Talk to me, please!" exclaimed the frantic looking blonde as she took in his state of stiffness and his pale face that she could just see in the darkness.
Still not fully integrated back to reality, Harry whispered under his breath, "... A coffin."
"Pardon? A coffin?"
"That is the correct answer; you may pass," spoke the voice behind the sphinx, startling Harry and Lady Luck.
"Harry, are you okay? You just spaced out for a second there and you were really pale. Gave me such a fright," she ranted.
"Huh?" Harry put eloquently as he shook his head to clear his momentary confusion. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he said, "I'm really sorry. I was just lost in some not so pleasant memories there. I-I'm fine now."
Giving him a pointed look, she commented, "Your version of 'I'm fine' is just a lie wrapped in different words."
Feeling like he had ruined everything, Harry quickly tried to apologize. "Look, I'm really sorry but I think it's best if we don't continue on this maze. You must be really upset with me. I've ruined both our attempts at a date today," he said, looking away.
Vehemently shaking her head, she brought Harry's face to look at her and denied, "Non! I am not upset with you at all, Harry! And you haven't ruined our chances at a relationship." She smiled shyly at him.
There was silence for a moment before Harry spoke. "You're really something special, you know that?" he remarked reverently, eliciting a blush from his date. Suddenly, a fantastic idea occurred to him. "Hey look, there is a poker tournament taking place tonight and well... if you don't have any plans for tonight or tomorrow, perhaps you would like to accompany me as my date?"
Turning to Harry and giving him an impish grin, she replied, "A promising proposition for sure, being the date of Harry Potter at a high-profile poker tournament in Monaco. Then again, by accompanying you, I'll be scrutinized by the British media, and we both know how petty they can be."
"So it's a 'no' then?" asked Harry, crestfallen.
"Not exactly. I can guarantee that you'll see me at the tournament. However, I'm afraid I must decline on your tempting offer to attend as a date. Rest assured though, Lady Luck will be there for you when you need her," she replied as she stepped closer to Harry. "Now, I think we both deserve a rest before we tackle tonight's events. Would you like to meet at the casino later? And I should hope you don't make trouble in the short time span."
Grinning despite the rejection, Harry moved forward to hold the beautiful blonde in his arms and smartly stated, "I don't go looking for trouble; trouble always seems to find me."
Chuckling, the blonde replied, "I thought that you would have some suave and sophisticated lines for situations like these. Not some cheesy line a comic book superhero would tell their admirers."
"Well, did it work on you?"
"I guess you could be considered a comic book hero, and I also would guess that I'm an admirer. Hmmm, well done Mr. Potter, I am officially entranced with you."
"Good, because I'd hate to lose such an amazing human being like yourself," Harry said softly as he bent down to capture her lips with his in a delicate but promising kiss.
Extracting herself from their embrace moments later, she leaned upwards and planted a chaste kiss on his lips and then whispered, "See you there, Mr. Potter."
Watching her move back and apparate away, Harry looked up to the fading sun's rays and smiled up to the heavens, before disapparating himself.
AN: Alright, we're back. The second flashback of this chapter has been revamped because we weren't too happy at how it turned out. Therefore, version two is uploaded for your reading pleasure. Chapter 4 is going to be released soon so stay tuned.