A/N:
Hello,
And Welcome to Chapter Eleven of RWIF.
As with all my introductions I would like to again thank you for reading, favouriting, following and reviewing. I would also like to reinforce how happy it makes me to see that there is actually interest in this story and that people who have taken the time to review seem to be enjoying it (for the most part of course.)
So I won't hold you up any more but to say that I hope you enjoy it.
I appreciate it if you are still with me, I understand this story has gotten pretty long, but hopefully it holds your attention.
Once again, work has kept me very busy, so hopefully Chapter 12 will be available soon. It's more or less done with the exception of some fine tuning.
Cheers,
ATG
PS: Standard Editing Disclaimer
PPS: Standard Fanfiction, not owning any parts of Harry Potter disclaimer.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Chapter Eleven
Saturday September 7th, 2012
A loud mumble woke him. His eyes shot open, and it took everything he had not to shoot out of bed and grab the item in his bag that he had been hiding. He quickly relaxed when he realised the mumble had come from the beautiful woman who was snuggled up in his arms.
His body must have been conscious enough to keep him from jerking her awake. She still slumbered. Not quite soundly, but she slumbered none the less.
James sighed and he buried his head back into her hair and closed his eyes.
"Gnnrrrhh." he lifted his head slightly as Hermione stirred.
"Shhhh." He tried his best to sooth her. While he did not consider himself an expert, Hermione had showed him how it could be done. He did his absolute best to channel her.
"No." she said softly.
He chuckled slightly.
"Hmmm?" He asked.
She said nothing. So, James just pulled her closely to himself and began to stroke her forearm gently, willing her to fall back into a peaceful sleep.
He gently kissed along her back. Whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
"Haarrr-." She shot up with a strangled cry and James was forced to let her go.
Her eyes were open. She was sweating profusely. It was beading on her forehead and her night shirt, which James was happy to note was one of his, was clinging to her body.
"Hermione." He said gently. "It's all good. You're all good."
She turned to look right at him. Her eyes linked with his.
"Hermione. It's okay. It's all okay. We are at your parents."
She nodded to him and took a deep breath. She then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself into him. He sat back and pulled her onto his lap, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
Sweet little nothings. He soothed, he affirmed, he said whatever came to mind about how much he loved her and how he adored her.
It felt like an eternity before she pulled herself back and kissed him lightly on his lips. Then put her forehead to his.
"Hey." She whispered.
"Hey." He whispered back.
"I'm sorry." She said, sounding so incredibly so.
"Don't be silly." He said, copying her.
She shot him a quick look of consternation. She knew exactly what he was doing.
He gently kissed her on the forehead.
"Come on. Lay down."
He lay back and pulled her onto him, so that she was using his chest as a pillow. He began stroking her back gently and planting little kisses on her forehead.
"Want to talk about it?" He asked gently.
She looked up at him. He could see in her eyes that the fear of the nightmare hadn't exactly faded.
"One day." Was all she said as she pulled her head back into his chest.
"I'll hold you to that." He said, stroking her back and kissing the top of her head.
He couldn't be sure, but he thought he felt her shudder at the thought.
It took a while, but James felt her breathing finally even out and sleep overtake her.
It made him glad. Glad that she could get some more sleep.
He didn't.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Saturday September 7th, 2012
James worked at the stove absentmindedly. His mind kept casting to the warning in the voice of Mrs Jones, and he hadn't slept well because of it.
Well, between that and Hermione's nightmare. He didn't sleep.
I hear you have a pretty new girlfriend. A doctor. Successful sort, excellent career. A long line of successes in front of her I'd wager.
What a shame for such a successful career to be cut short. What a waste of a wonderful young woman that would be.
It kept bouncing around his head. It was part of the reason he had convinced Hermione to come here. Here in Muggle London, surrounded by other houses, with her parents. She was safer.
Not that James had done anything that would give anyone cause to come after Hermione or himself. As long as he continued to do his duty, he could keep Hermione safe.
Besides, he figured, if they knew about Hermione, they knew all about her parents too. It was not a stretch for James and Hermione to come here. It was a chance to get away and take some time for themselves. Maybe have a return of some of that wonderful normality they had had before he had left.
He told himself all of this, but still, he did not sleep.
But maybe he should tell her. The more he learnt about her, the more he discovered just how capable she was. She had faced her own share of danger and had triumphed.
She was a woman that could take care of herself.
She carried her burdens far better than he did. Even if she did have the occasional nightmare.
James remembered how she had felt as she quivered and shook in his arms. How he had seen his beautiful girlfriend in such a state.
It had frightened him to be honest. She did so well at keeping herself strong all the time.
Sleep makes cowards of us all.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Ellen Granger came down the stairs, stifling a yawn.
She started as she got into the kitchen, only to find Harry Potter, or James Black, as he was now known, cooking merrily away.
She paused for a moment, before she disturbed him, taking in all that she had learnt over the past 24 hours.
The phone call from Hermione, explaining that she had found Harry Potter, alive and sort of well. That he had lost his memory and that she was trying to work to get him back.
Ellen had been so proud of Hermione in that moment, that she would go to her friends aid like that. And what a friend he had become. He was a regular tall, dark and handsome now. Fit, confident without being cocky, and good company.
Ellen thought he was a far cry from the scrawny, shy, underfed boy she had met all those years ago.
But then, Hermione was too. Ten years will do that to you, whether you've been through a war or not.
This boy, well he had been through the wars, and then the wars, and then the wars.
She remembered when Nate and Carl, his brother, had deployed to the Falklands. She had been sick with worry. Terrified every minute of getting a knock on the door from two men in uniform. Or even that the phone would ring, and she would be getting a wounded notification.
It had gone on for more than two months before combat operations had ceased.
She had no idea how she would handle the months and years of conflict that the families of James and his teammates had dealt with.
But he carried his burdens well.
"Good Morning, James!"
James started only briefly. Clearly, he had been lost in thought.
When he turned around, Ellen could see something in his eyes. Bright green, but tired. There were bags under his eyes.
"Good morning, Ellen." He said brightly, and that something in his eyes faded as he focused on her.
She walked up and gave him a hug. She felt him initially stiffen, as he had yesterday, particularly when Nate had decided to give him a hug for fun. She had admonished him for that. But Nate had just laughed it off, claiming that it was his prerogative as a father to make James uncomfortable.
But James relaxed into the hug and returned it.
Men.
That said, Ellen relished some alone time with him. She hadn't had much time for that previous evening, and she was intent to spend more time to get to know the man who had claimed her daughter's heart.
"It's not often I'm beat into my own kitchen of a morning James. What are you cooking?"
James just smiled as he turned back to the stove, stirring something that smelt incredible.
"Thought I might make some French Toast for everyone, since you all cooked us dinner last night. Hermione's having a bit of a lie in, and I don't sleep in very well, so I thought I'd make myself useful." He said giving her a smile over his shoulder. "Besides, it's an opportunity to try and win some brownie points."
Ellen couldn't help but smile at him. She could see straight through that. James hadn't wanted to wake Hermione, so he had snuck downstairs.
"It smells delightful." She said, approaching the stove and seeing what he was doing. She was impressed to say the least, he seemed to have an excellent handle on what he was doing. "Can I help?"
"You sure can. If you'd like to have a seat and get ready to give me a taste test, that would be very helpful. I'm sure Hermione's nose will wake her soon."
Ellen just touched him lightly on the arm, and was happy to notice that he only slightly winced away from her.
"Can I at least make you a coffee or a tea. I'm having one?" She asked.
"Coffee please, black and none." He smiled at her as he turned back to the food.
Ellen busied herself with the kettle, while James continued to work on the stove, meticulously caring for the food he was cooking. A companiable silence settled in between them as they busied themselves with their work.
"So, James." Ellen said finally, placing his coffee next to him. "Now that I have you alone. It's time I got to know you a bit better."
"Thanks for the Coffee." He said guardedly. "What would you like to know. Keep in mind, I can only share so much."
"Because of your work?"
"No, because I only know about the last ten years." James said, his guarded expression sifting into an easy smile.
She couldn't help herself but laugh. They had spent all night trying to dance around this very particular piece of conversation, and here he was joking about it.
James seemed to read her thoughts.
"It's about as much a part of me at this point as the scar on my head. I'm okay with it. Retrogade amnesia like mine isn't exactly common. Makes it hard for those "Where did you grow up" kind of conversations. But I figured Hermione had warned you about me and warned you not to mention it. Which I know is her trying to be kind. But honestly, I don't mind. I can't do much about it."
Ellen just cradled her coffee and looked at him as he spoke.
"I mean, yeah, I don't go around advertising it. And not everyone is fully aware of it. But It's okay. You're Hermione's family. Of course it is something you should know about the man who is dating your daughter."
He continued carefully sifting the food on the pan.
"I love your daughter, very much. I love your daughter in ways I never thought possible. I'll do everything I can to protect her, to look after her. And I think her telling you to tread carefully around the topic of my memory is probably one of her ways of trying to do the same for me. But it's unnecessary. It's okay. You're her family. I may not be an expert in the whole 'family business', but I think my amnesia might be something that I share with family."
Ellen just looked at him thoughtfully.
"Well. I guess that's one way to help me get to know you better." She said to him a small smile.
James laughed and shrugged. "Sorry."
"Please, don't be." Ellen said lightly. "I'm just glad to hear that you love my daughter and will look out for her. Believe me when I say you will have your work cut out for you there."
James gave her a knowing look. "I'm starting to get that feeling."
"What feeling is that?" Came from the entry to the kitchen as a sleepy, yawning, Hermione Granger made her start to the day.
"Oh, nothing." Said Ellen, shooting James a conspiratorial look.
"Just the feeling that your nose would wake you up soon." James quickly replied, shooting a smile at Ellen.
Hermione stopped mid yawn to examine the pair of them.
"What are you two doing?" She said suspiciously.
They both laughed as a means of reply.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
When Nate joined them not long after, he looked a bit worse for wear. They had drunk a fair bit of scotch between them, and it was clear that Nate wasn't having the best morning.
They enjoyed a lovely family breakfast. Now knowing that James was much more willing to speak about his experiences, they had lightly pried. Hermione had been going spare, but James was gracious, if nervous, about talking.
He gave Hermione a reassuring touch on her knee. She had beamed at him.
She didn't talk much as she devoured her French toast. She instead chose to just listen. Hermione appreciated, not for the first time just how gentle her mother could be when she pried.
At first it had all been questions about the recipes for the French toast. Her heart had done a full flip at the beaming pride on James's face when Ellen had said the words, "This is the best French Toast I have ever had."
Nate hadn't eaten much. But that was likely more self-inflicted than an attack on the breakfast. He had just grunted or groaned a few times. He was clearly in a state, and conversation didn't come naturally from him.
When they had finished eating, James had made to clear the plates, but had been shooed away by Ellen.
"The cook doesn't clean in this house." Ellen had said with faux seriousness to him. "Hermione can help me clean up. Besides, there isn't much to do."
She looked over amused at her Husband, who begged off to go back to bed.
James still took the plates and put them in the sink. Hermione knew that he wouldn't be denied helping just a little bit.
She watched as he pinched his nose between his fingers. No matter that she knew Voldemort was dead. That she knew the connection between Voldemort and James was long gone, seeing him with a headache was always a cause for alarm.
She had to fight hard to keep her nerves from showing. Instead, she just approached him where he stood near the kitchen sink and leaned up to give him a kiss on the forehead.
"I love you." She said softly. "Thanks for breakfast, it was delicious."
James had smiled back at her in a way that showed he was still getting used to dropping the L word. Whether he had set it first or not, it didn't come entirely naturally.
"I love you too." He said gently. "And you are most welcome."
Finally, her concern got the better of her.
"Is your head, okay?" She asked. She looked into James's eyes and saw the fatigue that was there. The worry. She knew that it had more to do with something else, than just a few too many stiff drinks with her father the night before. She wanted to rail against him hiding stuff from her, but also realised the hypocrisy of doing exactly that.
"Yeah. I just have a bit of a headache." He said absently.
"I've some paracetamol in my bag. Why don't you go take some while Mum and I clean up?"
James smiled and kissed her on the cheek.
"You're brilliant, Hermione. Do you know that?"
"No. But if you keep telling me, I might just start to believe it." She smirked back at him, cheekily, as he walked towards the stairs.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
James opened her bag and quickly sifted through her nearly organised things, careful not to disturb them until he found it. A small packet of paracetamol.
Not for the first time, he was grateful that Hermione was so organised. He was grateful that she would think to pack some.
He pushed in the blister pack and cursed his stupidity as the small pill dropped to the ground and rolled under Hermione's book stand.
Sighing. He got down on his knees and looked through the small opening of the stand.
It was barely big enough for his hand as he reached up and sifted away.
He felt his hand on something. It wasn't the pill. That's for sure. It felt like a bit of paper. It was rigid, too rigid for normal paper.
He took a hold and pulled his hand out.
It was a photograph.
He turned it over to have a look at it.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Hermione washed, Ellen dried.
"You know, I always thought when you were young that you would end up with Harry Potter." Ellen mused, as her hands worked at the task.
They had a dishwasher, but sometimes they just preferred to do things by hand. It was a good way to just spend time with each other.
"Mum." Hermione complained.
"You were always talking about him. Always. You would just sit there for hours and tell me all about how Harry did this, and Harry did that. And sometimes you would mention your good friend Ron. But not near as much as you would mention one Harry Potter."
Hermione just continued to wash the dishes.
"And here we are, what, 17 years later? And you bring home James Black."
Hermione just continued to wash the dishes in front of her.
"He's fantastic Hermione. He truly is a wonderful boy. He clearly loves you, he dotes upon you. He would move heaven and earth to make you smile, that much is clear just by looking at the two of you together. I couldn't be happier for you, Hermione, not at all. To see you this happy. A happy that I had hoped for you your whole life. A happy that I had started to lose hope in over the past decade."
Hermione again continued washing without saying anything. She knew her mother. Something was coming.
"But Hermione, you are lying to that boy about things you have no right to lie about."
Hermione turned and looked at her mother.
"It's his past. His. You are such a massive part of it. You have seen what he has been through, you have known it. You have been there for it all. Who better than you to tell him it all? To give him pride in who he was and what you all managed to achieve."
Hermione's hands were shaking now.
"I don't pretend to know about this magic you are working on to help restore his memory. But I would think that he would much prefer to hear it from you early, then to hide it from him and ambush him with it later."
"Mum."
"I'm not saying this to upset you Hermione. I'm not. I'm your mother. I'm giving you my advice whether you like it or not. It's one of the best things about being a mother."
"He told me he doesn't want his memory back."
"If you believe that Hermione, then you are not just lying to him, but you are lying to yourself."
Hermione sighed in frustration as she washed the mug in her hand.
"I can't put my finger on it mum. I would have expected him to jump at the chance. But he's obstinate. He doesn't want to know."
"Why not?" Ellen enquired gently.
"I don't know. I can't get him to talk about it. He almost seems like he's scared of it. Which is daunting in of itself, considering he's the bravest man I've ever known."
"He may be the bravest man, but you are the bravest woman I have ever known." Said Ellen. "I get that you are risking being a part of his future to give him a past. I get that. But Hermione. I can't tell if you have let that get into your head. If you have let that start to justify your choice, more than be the reason for your choice."
Hermione had to put down the plate she was washing, her hands were shaking so badly.
"I'm doing my best Mum. My absolute best."
"You always do. I'm really proud of you for what you are doing. So is your father. But Hermione, if you want to do what is right for him, you need to give him the right information to make the choice. Right now, he's playing chess in the dark. He doesn't know why you want him to remember. As far as he is concerned it's gone. But imagine if he knew even half of what you do. Imagine what that would do for his decision making. It's his past. He has the right to make his decision with all the information."
Hermione took a deep shuddering breath.
"You're right mum. I'll - I'll tell him. I just don't really want to do it here."
"Go for a walk. Tell him away from here. Let him have his honest reaction. If he decides to leave when he gets back, your father and I will understand. We will. We won't begrudge him his natural response to this. But Hermione. This has got to come from you. What If your father slips up again? That would make this whole situation much, much worse."
Hermione just sighed.
"Go on Hermione. I'll finish up here. It will do you both some good."
Hermione dried her hands and gave her mum a big hug.
As she went to leave the kitchen.
"Good Luck Hermione. Just remember. You love him. He loves you. That's what is most important. Not his memory, nor your wanting to rescue him from it. That love."
Hermione nodded and approached the stairs.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"James?" Hermione said gently, opening the door. She almost expected to find him asleep, as they hadn't heard from him since he left.
He was seated on the bed. His back to hers.
"James?" she again said softly, albeit slightly louder.
"Hermione." He said stiffly.
She started slightly. She hadn't heard him be so brusque since he had accused her of only wanting to help him with his memory for her own career.
"Are you okay? Did you find the paracetamol?"
He stood slowly and turned to face her.
His eyes, normally so bright, so green and so loving, were instead cold, angry, betrayed.
"James?" She asked softly. "What's going on?"
"I don't know Hermione." He said coldly, fury on the edges of his voice. "Perhaps you might be able to answer that question."
He thrust something towards her.
Hermione took it, her eyes not leaving his cold and angry ones.
She looked down and saw it. It was a photograph.
A photograph of them. Of Harry and Hermione.
Her heart immediately flew to the back of her throat. While it was there it started pumping at a rate she didn't know it could.
Her blood ran cold, and her stomach sank. None of her insides felt like they were where they were supposed to be or doing what they were supposed to be doing.
Lying next to each other in the snow. He had his arm around her, and she was gently resting her head on his shoulder. It was one of her favourite photos of one of her favourite memories.
Sometimes she had been very glad that Colin Creevey had been called Colin Creepy.
She was also glad that she had requested a muggle print of that photograph. Well, not at that moment she was glad, but she had always adored the photo.
"James." Her voice hitched as she breathed his name out.
The horror of the situation was reflected in the raw anger in his eyes. But it wasn't the raw anger that petrified her. It was the hurt. He was wounded and it was plain for her to see. She had managed to accomplish the one thing she had always not done. She had never been the one to hurt him. To cause him pain. Despite standing up to him, and delivering a hard truth from time to time, she had never been the one to actually hurt him.
Sure, she had annoyed him and made him angry. But to cause him genuine hurt like this was something else.
"What in the fuck is going on?"
"James. I-". In what had become somewhat of a recurring phenomenon, Hermione found herself speechless.
For his part, she could see his heavy breathing. The way his jaw was clenching and unclenching. The way his eyes burnt with fury and pain. The way his hand clenched and unclenched.
The gravity of her misreading's started to sink in. The gravity of the level of fuck up.
"I can explain. I can."'
"You had fucking best." His voice was cold.
Gone was the man who she had cuddled up to the night before. The man that was so gentle and loving with her. Who whispered sweet nothings in her ear while the waves of orgasm abated. Who offered her comfort when her worst nightmares crossed her sleeping mind.
Here was the other man. The man who fought for his country. The man who killed other men. Here was the soldier. The warrior. The Regiment man. Here was the man who had survived ten years of war.
"We went to school together. From ages 11 to 17 we were at school. You were my best friend –"
"Stop." James raised his hand and shook his head. His voice dropped with a fury that shocked her. "I don't want to know. I don't want to know about my fucking past. My past is fucking gone. It's gone. It has forgotten about me. I have forgotten about it." His voice was barely above a whisper. It was cold. It was angry, but it was still quiet. It surprised her more than anything.
James had traditionally been a yeller when he was angry. Clearly, he had grown out of that. Or, more likely, he was respecting Hermione's parents.
Either way, his fury was clear to see.
"What I want to know, is why you lied. What else did you lie about? Christ, Hermione, I told you I loved you. Did you lie about that? Did you lie about everything? Is this all some kind of fucking sick joke."
When he spoke now, it wasn't the anger creeping in. It was almost panic. His breathing was shallow, and he was no longer looking at her as he looked around the room. As he looked at everything but her. His eyes darted around the room, almost like a caged beast.
Hermione thought that hurt more than the anger did.
She took a step forward towards him.
He took a step back.
His arms flew up next to him, almost as if he was showing he was unarmed.
"Don't touch me!" His voice was dangerous.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry." Hermione said breathlessly. The tears had started to form and run down her cheeks. "None of that stuff was a lie, James. I do love you. I love you." She was almost begging him.
James's eyes met her then. She saw something there that somehow made her feel even worse than the despair that was sinking in. Doubt. Serious doubt.
She knew then, what had happened. All those deeply held insecurities about his worthiness to be loved were being fuelled by what he had learnt. They were all bubbling to the surface. It was almost like Hermione was reinforcing that in his mind. Like she was telling him that he was right.
But he was wrong. So wrong.
She had completely undermined everything she had ever set out to make him believe.
"I don't know if I believe that."
Hermione felt her heart break in two when she heard that. The tears flowed quicker and faster.
"James. I love you. I do."
"Shut up." His words came out breathlessly. "Just shut up."
He took a few deep breaths. She saw his eyes desperately avoiding hers. They were over her shoulder. At the wall. At the floor. At anything. Anything but her.
You have fucked his up good and fucking proper, Granger.
She brought her hands to her mouth as she watched him. She didn't know what to do. How to break this funk. How to get through to him.
"I love you James." She said steadily. She would not let him back away from that truth. She would fight him on his disbelief for that.
The window next to her suddenly shattered. All of its own accord. Hermione and James both turned to look at it in shock.
"Why does that keep fucking happening?" He said. His voice reverberated with confusion. With concern.
His magic.
"Don't worry about that." She said softly, gazing at him in wonder. His magic was most certainly returning.
"Are you hurt?" He looked at her with concern in his eyes. "It didn't harm you, did it?"
Hermione wanted to crash tackle him with one of her famous hugs at the look in his face. The concern. He was hurt, and he was angry, livid, actually, but he still held that same concern for her that he always did.
Hope.
"No. James. No I'm fine." She said, taking advantage of the moment to step forward towards him. "See, not a scratch on me."
He looked at her stepping towards him, but he didn't step away.
She gently reached out to touch him. Her eyes locked on his as her hand reached out. Her hand gently cupped the side of his face.
"I do love you, James. I do." She whispered to him. "Your past is not gone. It's not. It hasn't forgotten about you. I never forgot about you."
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes gently.
His face didn't relax. His breathing was taught and laboured.
"I love you." She whispered, taking some courage to step forward again, right up to him.
She reached her other hand to cup the other side of his face. She could feel his breathing coming through. It hitched. It wasn't easy.
As if on cue. His phone rang.
He took a few shuddering breaths, as if at first, he didn't notice it, ringing merrily on his side of the nightstand.
His eyes fluttered opened, and Hermione was fully confronted by the pain in his eyes. The pain that she had caused.
He took a deep breath.
Then he was standing at his full height. The change rattled Hermione. His eyes had lost all that emotion and been replaced by – well – by nothing. Nothing at all. They were an empty green. No longer her favourite colour, just empty green.
He stalked over to the desk and answered the phone.
Hermione didn't know what to do.
"Hello." He said gruffly.
He paused as the other person spoke.
"Mate. I'm on fucking leave."
Hermione watched his face carefully. Amazed at how he had switched over from the angry soldier, to the wounded man, and back to this. This almost robot.
"I don't care if the Queen of England has requested me specifically. I took leave. You approved it."
He paused as the other person spoke.
"I had no idea we were the only team available in all of the UK to help them out." The sarcasm dripped from his voice.
He turned around and his eyes made contact with her.
"What about Alpha team. They have been on rest for two weeks."
In that moment, a small glimmer of unbidden hope leapt to her throat. She hated it, as she didn't think she could handle any more disappointment.
He still doesn't want to go.
"What do you mean they are already on the way? I told you, I'm on leave."
Hermione's heart sank again.
"Ten minutes? Ten? Really?"
His voice was dripping with barely contained anger.
"How do you know where my partners family live? My phone? You prick."
Partner. He still said partner.
That doesn't mean anything.
His hand came up and stroked his beard.
"Fine. But you and me? We're going to have a conversation about what the term 'leave' and 'operations rotation' means after this. It won't be a pleasant conversation."
James continued to stroke his beard.
James started picking up his things and putting them in the bag and her heart sank. He was still going.
"Yeah. Fine. Ten minutes. Get them to meet me out the front."
He spared her another look.
"Bye."
He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket as he started picking up his things and putting them back in his bag.
He didn't look at her as he did it.
"I've been recalled."
"But you're on leave, James."
James shrugged as he spoke deadpan. "National Security protocols means that any serviceman can be recalled at any time from leave or otherwise in order to carry out operations of high priority."
"Perks of the job?" She said softly, trying not to let him explode. She hated this. Feeling like she was walking on eggshells.
He finished his packing with a quick ease on trained hands, before he took a long look at this bag.
She tried to meet his eye, but he avoided it.
"James. Please. Talk to me."
Finally, he glanced into her eyes and then looked away.
"I have to go."
He picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder.
He grabbed his car keys and offered them to her.
She reached out and took them automatically, her hands glancing across his as she did so. Their eyes again made contact before he jolted back as if electrified.
"Can you please drive my car back? If you can't I understand, I'll just get the train or something." He mumbled, still avoiding her eyes.
"Of course." She said gently.
He walked to the door. She followed him out as he stalked through the house and down the stairs.
He poked his head into the kitchen.
"Thanks for everything Ellen. I have to go. Please pass on my apologies to Nate, for everything."
"Are you off James?" Called Ellen back with a pointed look at Hermione.
James caught the look. "Yeah, unfortunately. I've been recalled from leave. But thanks for dinner, and I hope you enjoy your weekend."
She walked up and gave him a hug. He was tense the whole time. Ellen must have caught that from the look she gave Hermione.
He then walked out the front door. Hermione followed her hands folded across her body.
"James. Please."
He stopped. Hermione could see a dark Range Rover slowly driving down the street towards the house.
He turned around on his heel and looked at her.
"Why?"
Hermione paused.
"Just tell me why."
His voice had that hint of something. Like he was at the breaking point. She knew that she had just this moment and this moment alone if she ever was truly to have a chance of repairing this damage she had done.
Finally, she spoke. When she did her voice was surprisingly even and strong. "Because if I told you, it would have gotten in the way of helping you. I can help you with your memory. I can restore it. I can help you get back all that was taken from you. I can help you see just how many people there are out there who love you. Who adore you. Who have believed that you are dead and have missed you every single day for ten years. And there are many more of them than you think."
James looked at her for a long minute, as the car pulled up into her driveway.
He slowly nodded. Something appeared in his eye. A glimmer of hope maybe? It certainly looked like hope.
He opened his mouth to speak. But nothing came out.
She watched as his jaw tensed several times.
He then turned on his heel and strode towards the vehicle, climbing into the back seat.
When the vehicle finally left. That's when the tears truly fell. That's when the sobs wracked her body.
That's when her mum came out and bundled her up so she could bawl into her.
That's when her mum did her best to soothe her.
But it didn't help.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Monday September 9th 2012
"Still here, Gawain?" came a deep booming baritone that caused the Chief of Aurors to raise his head.
"Always here these days, Kingsley." Said Robalds, standing from his desk and approaching the Minister of Magic to shake his hand.
"Feels like that, in days like these. Takes us back to the dark days of Voldemort." Said Kingsley Shacklebolt, warmly shaking his old friend's hand.
Robalds nodded. He had hoped to see the end of those days, but he hadn't. Yet still he remained at his post, a decade later.
"And to what do I owe the pleasure, Kingsley?"
"Sit down, Gawain, sit down, please."
Robalds obliged. He reached into his bottom drawer and produced the bottle of scotch he kept there. He had just placed it on the desk, when Kingsley smiled. He produced his own bottle and placed it on the desk.
"Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. The good stuff. A gift from the President of the Magical Congress of the United States of America. I'm yet to crack it open, but I figured who better to have a glass with then my Chief of Aurors during these trying times."
Robalds nodded, replacing the bottle with two glasses.
Kingsley cracked open the bottle and poured them each a generous serving. Robalds raised his eyebrows.
So, it was going to be one of those conversations.
"To the downfall of dark days." Said Kingsley, raising his glass to Robalds.
"May they never return." Said Robalds, touching his own glass to Kingsleys. The cheers of those who had survived the Auror Corps decimation during the last great Wizarding war.
Robalds took a sip. It was good. While he much preferred the smokiness of a good scotch, he was not impartial to the sweetness of a decent bourbon, if the fancy took him.
And when the Minister of Magic offered, the fancy always took you.
For a while, they chatted. They chatted about old times and fallen comrades. It was in their custom and it was in good taste for them to do so. It was always in good taste to remember names, faces and stories. If they didn't, who would?
It was only when the first glass was finished, and the second one poured that the topic of business came up.
"So, what brings you here, Kingsley. As much as I would be happy to sit and tell the same old stories from the same old tired Aurors, something tells me you've got business."
"Who are you calling old?" Kingsley asked with a smile, before he became serious. "But yes." He said, pulling a file out from his cloak and placing it on the desk. "I'm here about this."
Robalds instantly recognised the file as his request that he had made to the Department of Mysteries.
"How concerned do I need to be?" Kingsley asked.
Robalds sighed a deep and breathy sigh.
"I don't know Kingsley, it's just a hunch I'm working on. It came through Weasley after the interrogation of Jeska, one of the recaptured Death Eaters."
"I've read the report Gawain. But I'd like to hear it from you directly."
"They are hunting for Voldemorts body. That's why they broke out. That's why they are lying low. We've established their intent is to find the body and return Voldemort to power."
Kingsley frowned and took another sip.
"Why Harry Potter too?"
Robalds shook his head. "Jeska said they were hunting Harry Potter as well."
"Harry Potter died, Gawain. You know this as well as I do."
"Knew this. Kingsley. Knew this. Way I see it, it can't help to seek a little confirmation in these uncertain times."
"You want confirmation of the death of Harry Potter and Voldemort to put this hunch to bed?"
"I want the confirmation of the death of Harry Potter and Voldemort so I can confirm if we have to reorientate out investigation. We know they want Voldemort's body. We believe that the muggle government has custody of the body. But if they have custody of Voldemort's body, what happened to Potter's?"
Kinglsey leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful for a long minute.
"I read the reports you submitted. I can always ask the Prime Minister."
"Kingsley, I would never presume to tell you how to play politics with the muggles, but I would urge caution."
"Explain."
"Quite simply, if you read the report that you know that from what we can determine, agents of the muggle government bested four of our Aurors. Weasley may have only been a Gold for a few years, but that man has been fighting evil since he was eleven. He would not be bested easily, but they were made to look like amateurs."
"Go on."
"Well, while it is concerning that those Muggles managed to defeat us that deftly, what concerns me is that they were there."
Kingsley raised an eyebrow at Robalds. "Chance? Bad Luck?"
"You and I have been in this business way too long to believe in that. What would Mad Eye Moody say if he heard you talking like that after everything he tried to teach you? I don't believe it for a second. We found out about that meeting through an anonymous tip. If you want my opinion, and I would hope you do, that entire meeting was a set up."
"A set up?"
"A set up. We were baited into it. Weasley was baited into it. Someone wanted to determine how muggles would go against wizards. And they smacked us good and proper. They were well trained, quick, decisive. They had the edge. That split second it takes for a wizard to make wand movements was all the difference. Someone wanted to test out their best against ours. And I have to be honest with you Kingsley."
Kingsley nodded for him to continue.
"We were found wanting."
Kingsley leaned back in his chair and let out a breath.
"Why? Why now? Why the set up?" Asked Kingsley finally.
"I don't know. If I did, I'd have that report for you quick smart. But I think it's about time we recognised that there are agents in the muggle government who aren't as blind to the world of magic as we would like to believe."
Kingsley stroked his greying beard as he took the information on board.
"So, what is your solution?"
Robalds took another sip of his own bourbon.
"We learn. We determine if Voldemort is truly dead, which would be a blessing, and realise that he is the bait. He is the bait that will draw in the escaped Death Eaters. If we can find his location, the location of this safe house, than we can start to orientate towards not just the goal of the Death Eaters, but the goal of MI5. From there. We need to formulate a way to retrieve the body and determine the depths that this department has delved into."
"It almost sounds like you want to go to war with the Muggles." Said Kingsley, not accusatorily, but not not either.
"Merlin no. Not even slightly. My goal, as is my oath of office, is to protect our kind against all threats. And as far as I am concerned, this may just be the greatest threat since Voldemort himself. It has snuck up on us and caught us completely blind. We need to do something that the Magical world has never been proficient at."
"And what is that?" Asked Kingsley.
"Adapt."
Kingsley let out another long sigh. Finally, he opened the file and pulled out his quill, specially marked with a hint of his essence so that it could be confirmed as a signature from the hand of the Minister of Magic.
He signed the bottom of the request with a flourish.
"What about Harry Potter?" Kingsley asked, placing his quill away. "How does he fit into this?"
Robalds scanned his old boss, his new boss, and his old friend carefully. He knew the affection that Kingsley held towards the boy.
"I'm starting to suspect." Robalds took a deep breath before he continued. "That the boy may have lived."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Monday September 9th 2012
"Hey brother. Do you need a friend?"
James was fiddling with a few pouches on his body armour. Checking and rechecking his gear as he stood by the Range Rover that had been put aside for Lucky and he.
He glanced over. Lucky was standing in full camouflage uniform, wearing his body armour and carrying his rifle. He wore no helmet, that was in the vehicle, but his lucky baseball cap with Australian National flag sat upon his head.
The look in his eyes was almost accusing. This was a Lucky who was worried about James, but also a Lucky who was ready to his job as being the second in command.
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" He asked skeptically. "So that's why you just put Chris on blast because the explosives weren't ready?"
"They should be good to go."
"Agreed." Said Lucky, refusing to back down the mounting anger that was clearly being broadcast from James right now. "But It's pretty difficult to have that done before orders when you don't know what you are setting them for, ain't it?"
James shrugged.
"He's the new bloke. He needs to do better." James said quietly.
"James. Fucking stop."
Lucky ripped the body armour out of James's hand and held it loosely by his side.
"We are about to go and raid a Death Eater stronghold, and you're so fucking angry that you can't even think straight."
"I'm fine." Growled James.
"You ain't fucking fine. Now you start talking, or I go to Byron and strongly suggest you sit this one out."
"You wouldn't fucking dare."
"I fucking would. You're acting like a right fucking dickhead right now. And we are about to put our lives on the line. The whole team's lives. So, you pull your head in, or I'll get you dropped."
James sighed reaching for his armour. "Leave it out, Luck."
"How's 'get fucked' sound?" Replied Lucky, pulling it out of reach.
James's fiery green eyes met his best mates' grey ones. The challenge was there, and Lucky wasn't backing down.
"What happened?"
"Give me back my armour." James's voice was deadly.
"What happened? Was it Hermione?"
James stepped forward and grabbed the front of Lucky's body armour and slammed him up against the vehicle.
"Give. It. Back."
Still, Lucky's grey eyes didn't budge from James's green one.
Instead, he reached up and grabbed a hold of James wrist and arm.
"We can do this if you want?" Lucky asked by way of challenge.
"Give me back my –"
Before he knew it he was on his back, with Lucky standing over the top of him.
James stood, fury coursing through his veins.
He charged at Lucky and grabbed him, tackling him to the ground.
Lucky was stronger, he pivoted his hips and managed to get James out from under him. They scuffled on the ground, jockeying for positions. James was quicker and defter, but Lucky had the strength.
He bucked James from him and grabbed him pivoting and throwing him onto his side.
They both scuffled to their feet, facing off.
Lucky put his rifle down and took of his body armour.
"This what you need? Then let's go mate." He held two gloved hands out in front of him and beckoned James on, who promptly charged at him. Lucky slipped inside of him and pivoted, hip tossing James to the ground, and landing heavily on top of him.
Lucky tried to climb on top of James, but James was too quick and too skilled. He pivoted his hips and wrenched himself free, rolling away from the larger man.
"That was shit from you mate." Said Lucky, as a teacher might admonish a favourite student.
James quickly darted to his feet and managed to grab the still rising Lucky in a headlock.
"That's it, mate." Said Lucky, encouragingly. "That's it."
Lucky tried to pull himself free, but James dropped him below him, pushing him face first to the ground and ending up on his back.
"That's better mate." Said Lucky, shifting himself forcefully and throwing James from his back.
They both stood again. Facing each other. It was Lucky who made the first move now, darting forward to grab James's legs.
James was too quick for him, deftly dodging and controlled Lucky's upper body, so that he pivoted around with his back to James.
James grabbed Lucky from behind and tried to trip him, but Lucky had read the move and managed to plant his feet. He pulled James's hands apart and bucked him off.
"What are you doing James? You're better than that. Come on. You wanna hurt somebody. Hurt somebody!"
James again charged at Lucky, who dropped his weight and bent over at his waist, sending James flying over his back and into the dust.
Lucky reached down to push him down, causing James to bring two booted feet out and capture Lucky's arm, spinning him to the ground and ending up in an arm bar.
Lucky fought it.
"That's right mate. Bar it on. Get in there."
He couldn't get the armbar on, and it pissed him off even more than he already was.
He relinquished and spun, managing to end up mounted over Lucky. His fist was cocked as he seriously thought about punching his best mate in the face.
Lucky pulled James down and thew his own face into James's.
James saw stars as Lucky's hard forehead collided hard with his. The impact made him blink, stunned.
Lucky could have spun him off him, but he didn't. He just lay there while James shook it off. His grip never left James's collar.
"You done?" Lucky asked finally.
James looked down at his best mate, who looked almost bored by the entire experience.
"I'm done."
"Good. You're better than that. Now get off me. All that cooking for Hermione has made you heavy."
James couldn't help but chuckle.
He stood up and offered Lucky a hand, who took it and raised himself to his feet.
They both brushed the dust off themselves.
"Now. Talk."
James sighed.
"I'm sorry mate."
"Don't apologise. It's good to work out some feelings and emotions before we do this. Get some nerves out. If you can't fuck, you fight, and no offence, but you ain't a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed doctor. I don't give a fuck about you needing to easing some tension. But you will tell me what's going on, so I know if you will be a liability. So, talk."
James took a deep breath.
He reached down and picked up his body armour.
"Hermione knew me from school."
Lucky, who was midway through picking up and dusting off his lucky cap just gave him a look.
"What?"
"Yeah."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what the fuck are you so angry for? That's fucking brilliant."
James shot him a filthy look. "She's been lying to me mate. This whole fucking time. It's been nothing but lies out of her. How in the fuck is that brilliant?" Said James, putting his body armour on over his head.
"Well. Why?"
"She reckons it's to help me get my memory. I've already told her, I don't want it back. Now it turns out she's been lying to me this whole time. How the fuck do I believe anything she says."
Lucky just looked thoughtful for a moment as he put his own body armour on.
"What happened?"
"Found a photo of the two of us from school. We had a blue about it, then we got called in."
"You tell them you were on leave?"
"Yeah. Hand requested."
"Ice Queen?"
"Ice Queen."
"Right."
Lucky walked over and opened the driver side door of the vehicle and stashed his rifle on the inside near the gear stick.
He then walked back to James, still clad in his body armour and hat.
"Well. Who are you then?"
"I don't know mate. She went to tell me, and I told her to shut up."
"You told her to shut up?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"Why did you tell her to shut up you dumb prick? Is likely more what I meant."
James growled. "I told you a thousand times. I don't want to fucking know about my past."
"Yeah, you've lied to me about a thousand times."
"Don't you start." James's voice indicated that he was in no mood for Lucky's devil-may-care attitude.
"Already have." Lucky's voice indicated that he didn't care that James had no mood for it.
James just stared at him. He was in no mood for Lucky's attitude at that moment. Fight be damned.
"You know you're a world class prick right?" Lucky said.
"What?"
"You heard."
"I heard. I just don't know why."
"Mate. Here's this gorgeous chick, who for some reason unknown the rest of mankind considers you somewhat attractive. Dunno why. Maybe she needs laser eye surgery, like you did. Anyway. She knows you from school right. She comes finds you and keeps all that to herself so she can go to work on your memory."
"Exactly Luck. She lied."
"Yeah. But so did you."
"What? I've never fucking lied to her." James's eyes narrowed as his anger grew again.
"Oath, you have. But it's probably more that you are lying to yourself." Luck continued simply. His voice was calm and collected, no trace of the tension that had been held between them just moments before.
James just grunted in anger.
"You tell me this." Lucky continued. "You give her keys to your place after a couple of weeks. You go meet her parents a week later. You tell me another woman you would be that head over heels with that you would advance that fucking quickly with."
James tensed his jaw. "And told her I loved her."
"Mate, you've never told anyone you love them. If I hadn't met this chick, and seeing you two in action, I would have had you in getting your head read. But mate, I saw that you two had something. Something special. I don't always believe in that shit, but fuck mate, I saw it."
"But it was all a fucking lie."
"So," Lucky continued as if James hadn't spoken. "You tell this girl within a few weeks that you love her, you give her keys, you go meet her parents, you introduce her to me and Lily. Why do you reckon that is?"
James shrugged. "Felt like a good idea at the time."
"I'll bet it did. So, when else have you ever felt like that was a good idea."
James shrugged.
"So, what I'm hearing is this. You love this girl. She loves you. She lies to you because she reckons, she can help you. Help you literally accomplish the one thing that you are actually afraid of accomplishing. She lies to you so what, so she can get in your pants? I don't think so. Mate, that girl loves you. And she loves you a whole hell of a lot. And you won't even give her the time of day to explain?"
James couldn't look his best mate in the eye.
"She lied, mate."
"She did. Maybe you owe it to yourself to at least hear her out."
James scratched at his beard. His anger, which had been so prevalent before was taken over by something else. He didn't want to say curiosity. He didn't want to give Lucky the satisfaction.
"I dunno, mate."
"Well lucky for you. I do. This sounds like your opportunity. Your chance. To find out who you are. To find out why you are here. You could learn it all. Discover it all. And you're willing to piss it all away for what? For pride? Why?"
"I just don't get why she would have to lie about something like this?"
"You're starting to sound like a broken record, mate. It might have something to do with you being the most pig-headed prick I've ever met. Ever think of that? Look, mate. Put it this way, you keep lying and saying that you've no interest in your past, yeah? So, imagine she rocks up at your door and is all like, 'Hello James, my name is Hermione. I knew you from school. Let's bang!' How would have handled that?"
James checked his watch. It was nearly time to go. The rest of the boys would be joining them any moment. Ready for their raid on the shack that MI5 had alleged was a Death Eater stronghold.
He took a deep breath. He took another.
Finally, he sighed.
"You might be right."
"You always seem surprised about that."
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Tuesday September 8th 2012
"I'm set James." Mark's voice came through the radio and into his ear.
"Likewise." From Adam.
"Copy." James whispered, as he moved as quietly as he could through the creek line.
The world was green. It was all green. His Night Vision goggles made the world so. They were his advantage. His teams advantage. They owned the night. Unless these Death Eater types had a way of seeing in the dark, they would retain that advantage.
"Still no movement front." Said Mark again.
"Nil movement rear." From Adam.
"Roger. Eyes up."
James could see the hut, only 50 or so metres to his front. There was a light on inside, he could make that out through his goggles.
"Anyone else got a bad feeling about this?" Came from Lucky. "Like they'd rather just leave and walk away. Like they've got something better to do?"
James propped and halted the assault team. He looked around at his 2IC who was carefully staring out through his goggles.
"Lucky, You good?"
Lucky's helmeted and goggled head turned to him. James could not make out any features. There were none. There was just helmet, goggles and face wrap.
The goggles very slowly and deliberately moved up, then down.
"I've got the same feeling." Came from Mark.
"Yeah. Yeah me too." Said Adam.
"I thought it was just new guy jitters." Came from Chris.
"I'm the same." Came Mac's steady, brogue.
James had no such feeling. He had the usual trepidation he always had before a job. Something kin to a mix of nerves and anxiety, with a tiny amount of fear wrapped in. Not to mention a low underlay of anger that had nothing to do with the job.
But he was intent on moving forward to the shack.
He was frustrated. Why were the boys baulking now? Was it soldiers intuition? Was he about to lead them all to their deaths?
Was this a bad op?
Not for the first time he cursed the Ice Queen under his breath.
"Everyone, listen in." James could see that no one looked at him, instead they were facing in all directions. "Keep your heads in the game. You heard the briefing. Armed and dangerous. We've all fought in Afghanistan. Iraq. Everywhere. This is just a domestic, CT op. The t's are crossed and the I's dotted. Now I need everyone with it. Copy?"
His voice was cranky. He could feel that familiar anger building back up inside of him.
"Copy." Came a chorus of whispered replies from his team.
"Hello, Alpha, Alpha, this is Charlie, over." Said James, into the command net.
"Hello Charlie, Over."
"Charlie. I reached line of assault. Over."
"Alpha, copy. No movement from our location. Good to go. Be careful, lads."
James just nodded and his team began to fan out along the creek line, Mac and Lucky taking the lead, James behind them and Chris behind him.
He stopped for a moment and sighed. Taking a knee. They were his team. It was his job to lead them. Now they needed him to lead and he was wrapped up in his own personal frustrations. It wouldn't do.
Lucky was right. He was better than that.
He didn't know why he did it. But he did. He keyed in his radio to his team and said it in a whisper.
"Lads. I'm not one for speeches. I don't know what has everyone spooked about this, but just remember who you are and who we are. Just remember for a moment why we do what we do. We are the best there is at what we do. There is no group of lads I'd rather have next to me in an uncertain job like this. So, let's go do it. Let's get it done. Let's get it done and get the fuck out of here."
He gently eased off the mike as he collected his thoughts.
"If you want the truth, it's my fault we are here and wrapped up in this. The Ice Queen is clearly using us and testing us because of me. So, for that, I'm sorry that everyone's getting screwed around. I've also been a bit testy these last few days. But those are my issues. Let's just go and get this done and go home yeah?"
When he said it, something he couldn't explain crossed over him. Like he had said something particularly inspiring. It was almost like he had delivered a powerful speech to the boys. Shakespeare mainly.
Once more unto the breach…
Perhaps?
"Go now, lads. Focus up."
Immediately in front of him, he saw Mac and Lucky slightly relax. They shook their heads almost imperceptivity, as if they had cleared their heads.
"Feelings gone." Said Lucky with no small amount of wonder. "I'm all sweet."
Judging from Mac's nod and a gentle squeeze of his arm from Chris, all was well with them too.
He didn't know why he had said what he said. But it had seemed to relax the team.
"Enough fucking about then. Let's get this done."
The team pushed forward towards the creek line. As they did, James felt something pass over him, like he had been scanned. Like something had assessed him, checked him over. Like he had been going through an airport checking system, one that you could actually feel the lasers, instead of just sit there and wait for them to finish.
"Anyone else feel that?"
"Feel what?" Said Lucky.
"Nevermind."
This isn't right.
Of course, as he said that, the universe went exactly to shite.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
The first man who came running out of the front door was immediately shot twice by Lucky.
He had no chance. Not even the slightest opportunity to defend himself, he just took both rounds and fell forwards on his face. His feet splaying. Behind him.
One of them must have been a headshot for him to fall that limply.
The second man ran out and was greeted by a hail of gunfire from Mac. Who fired repeated bursts into him which did - Well it did, exactly nothing.
It confused the big man. It confused all of them. The man was holding something out in front of him that was difficult to make out in the green of their night vision. The man was flashing green that had become almost constant from the volume of fire that Mac was putting into him. The flashing light seemed to be absorbing the bullets that Mac was putting into him.
James could see that the man was looking around confused as he did so. He clearly had no idea where the hail of gunfire that had him suppressed was coming from.
He began running along the front balcony towards the assault team that was beginning to move forward when he exposed his flank to Mark.
That was all it took. Mark took the shot and James saw something dark spray from the side of his torso.
The man slumped forward. His weapon falling, before he was eaten up by a burst from Mac that tore him apart.
"The flanks lads!" James called into his radio. "Hit them in the flanks! Now, Push. Push!"
The team moved forward.
"Contact Rear!"
James spun around to see a man Just fucking appear right in front of Chris.
Chris, shocked by this fell backwards as he fell, firing several rounds from his rifle.
The rounds seemed to have no impact as the man held his own weapon out in front of him, a flashing light almost forming like a shield to the man's front as the bullets hit it and had no impact.
James didn't know how he knew, but he knew it was a wooden stick.
The man pulled his wand back and started to make a movement with it when James stepped deftly to the side, placed his rifle against the side of the man's head and pulled the trigger.
Blood and brain matter sprayed the ground on the other side of him as he dropped.
"What the fuck?" Called Chris, his rifle still pointed at the man. Still on his back.
James reached down and pulled the startled man to his feet. He slammed his hand into the side of the man's helmet.
"Fucking focus!"
He turned around, just in time to see that Lucky and Mac had taken a knee, their weapons pointed at the shack.
Another man materialised out of nowhere to the side of the shack and was immediately greeted by a hail of gunfire by both Lucky and Mac.
The man was forced back several steps as his stick absorbed the rounds. In the green of his night vision, James just knew that a light was coming out from the stick. It looked like it was creating a force field.
The man started waving his wand quickly, and bolts of green shot out towards his team. He knew the advantage that darkness had brought them as the bolts went wide, flying over the heads of the team and to their left.
Instinct told him that he did not wish to be hit by those bolts of green.
James quickly pulled something from his pouch, pulled the pin and lobbed it at the man.
It landed immediately in front of his feet and immediately let of a series of loud bangs and bright flashes.
The shocked man broke concentration as he started to dance away from the cacophony of the stun grenade.
That was all it took for Lucky and Mac's rounds to start biting into his flesh and sent him screaming to the ground. He continued to lie screaming on the ground.
"Topping up." Called Lucky.
"Covering." Called James, stepping up next to him and bringing his own rifle into the fight.
"Any idea what in the actual fuck we are looking at?" Lucky half whispered to James as he reloaded his weapon.
"None. None whatsoever."
Once Lucky was done, Mac and Adam each took their own turn to reload, Mac putting a fresh belt onto his machine gun.
"Ice queen has some fucking explaining to do." Lucky whispered as they waited until the team was set.
"After lads. After." James said into the team radio, stopping any questions. He knew they were just as confused as he was.
"Push."
The team moved towards the shack. The man on the ground was still screaming in pain. They pushed towards him, and James grabbed the stick from his hand. The man reached out and grabbed at James's arm.
He was crying. "Please. Please. I don't wanna die here. I don't wanna die."
James looked at the man. There was nothing he could do for him. He had eaten too many bullets for James to pause the operation and help him.
"Make peace with it." James said. Before standing up and placing the stick in his pocket.
"Please, Lord. Please. Help me. I'm your loyal servant."
James thought nothing of the man as he moved away.
"Dark Lord. I am your loyal servant. Please. Please. All I have done is for you, Dark Lord Voldemort."
Why is that name so fucking familiar? And why do I not like it at all?
James had no time to dwell as he moved with his team to the front of the shack.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
The team staked around the doorway as carefully as they could. They made no noise, meaning the only thing anyone could hear was the sound of the crying Death Eater as he begged for relief.
It was an upsetting sound, to say the least. It was a sound that James could see was getting to Chris. His body language showed that he either wanted to end the Death Eater or help him.
James had called it in. That was all he was willing to do at this point.
He couldn't do anything for the man. Their team medic was covering the rear with a long gun and James was not about to endanger everyone just for this one wounded combatant.
"Please Lord. I am your loyal Servant. Please. Relieve me of this burden."
"I wish he would shut the fuck up." Said Chris quietly.
"Put him out of your mind, we have a job to do." Said James in a harsh whisper.
Mac moved around the other side of the door in company with Lucky. Their weapons faced towards the door.
"Please Lord. Your most loyal."
James tapped his helmet with a closed fist.
Chris moved forward and placed a strip of breaching explosive near the door handle. He finished up and moved backwards, tripping slightly over a dead body that lay on the front veranda of the place.
They took several steps back.
"Wait." James froze. The whole team did. Lucky's voice had broken out over the comms.
"I don't like this James. I don't like this one bit."
James's bit down on his lip. He had always respected Lucky's ability as a soldier and a 2IC. Him being spooked wasn't something he took lightly.
He let out a long slow breath as he thought. He was called Lucky for a reason afterall.
Finally he looked at the door. The job needed to be complete. They were here now. They might aswell get it done.
"Noted mate. We go on my call."
James could feel Lucky was staring at him after he said that. But he said nothing.
"I'll go first Lucky. You follow me in."
James could again feel Lucky's goggle covered eyes boring into him. Slowly, he nodded, his goggles moving up and down in a deliberate fashion.
He definitely didn't like this.
James put it out of his mind.
"Go. Go. Go." He whispered into his team communications.
"Most Loyal Servant Lord!"
The door exploded. It flew inwards.
James moved forward and approached the door. He stepped around and into the room, his rifle scanning the room as he entered.
He didn't see any Death Eaters. None. He did see a floating green skull. Well. His whole world was green under his NVG's. But it floated, with a snake coming out of its mouth.
"And I commend these souls with me."
The last thing he heard before a blast of green light, heat and force consumed him was his own name.
"James!"
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
A/N:
I just thought I would quickly put a note down here to thank you for your patience for the big scene of this chapter. The reveal of the truth to James about Hermione.
I have been enjoying writing, but I must admit how much tension and stress I felt with that one scene. I wanted to get it right. Hopefully I did so.
Cheers,
ATG