Twelve
"Are you alright, Lily?" James asked for what was probably the hundredth time in the last hour as he watched his wife frantically move around her lab, peeking inside some of the still-brewing potions. Right now, she was wiping down pristine countertops with the passion of a soldier preparing for war. She'd been on edge since yesterday at the Order meeting but he didn't question it. He was worried, yes, but he trusted her enough that he knew she'd tell him if something was wrong and that she wouldn't cheat on him like Pads did his past partners (well, flings, more like) in his rake era during their sixth year.
He wasn't deaf and his sharpened hearing was enough to amplify the girls' voices when they were drilling Lily for answers regarding her fidelity. He couldn't deny the amount of relief he felt when she answered no to their questions pertaining to Padfoot and Moony passionately. He did have to stomp on the uncomfortable squeezing in his chest when she denied their relationship with equal fervor, extinguishing any tiny hope he had of reviving their romantic connection. He tried to distract himself by turning to Mary who had stricken up a conversation with him then.
He wasn't a brick wall like Remus; James knew the tall dark-skinned brunette lusted after him. She'd tried multiple times to dive into his bed since before Lily accepted his affections in their final year at Hogwarts and when they broke up a year after.
The innocence during their younger years turned to outward seduction from the fifth year and on but he was a racehorse with blinkers galloping to the finishing line. He'd blindly chased after Lily, believing it was true love and he was so sure she was his endgame that he turned away any girl that wasn't the red-haired beauty. Lily was his first everything. And although he wasn't hers, he hoped she'd let them be each other's last.
"Will you mop the floor please?" Lily huffed. Her wand was pinning her hair up in a loose knot and she was wearing one of his old Quidditch jerseys emblazoned with his last name. He didn't know if she was wearing anything underneath but knowing her, a pair of shorts was definitely there.
He chuckled and waved his wand, wordlessly casting a Scourgify towards the floor. "Done."
She glared at him but he shrugged his shoulders. After a while, she seemed to get tired of doing everything manually so she started using her new wand to cast multiple cleaning spells under her breath.
"Amelia Bones owled me this morning. She asked if I could help with the deal." Lily broke the silence. "I'm going."
James nearly dropped the bottle of flobberworm mucus he was replacing on the table when he heard her. He whipped his head and faced her in disbelief. What in the bloody hell was she thinking?! Dumbledore had told them not to go outside willy-nilly because of the damn prophecy but here she was, announcing that she'll be heading head straight toward danger.
"I'm an elixirist and one of the Blishwicks runs an apothecary near the edge of York. I'll also be fetching some ingredients so I'll be gone for around five days. A week and a half at most but I'll be back before Harry's birthday." She explained, meeting his eyes calmly even as he crossed the room to stand in front of her intimidatingly in anger and indignation. He felt his hands tremble from what, he was not sure. "I-"
"No. You're not going."
She bristled and scoffed. "Excuse me? I wasn't asking for permission. I was merely informing you. You can't tell me what to do."
He stared at her, stunned. "You're my son's mother! We're married! You're my wife! I-" He was about to explain the solidarity a husband and wife his mother and father taught him should have when she cut him off.
She laughed in disbelief. "That is quite possibly one of the most sexist things I have heard, Mr Potter!" She sneered, tilting her chin up, looking down at him (though he wasn't sure how that could be possible because he was taller than her by at least several inches), and exiting the room to head to where Harry was in the living room.
He didn't get the chance to clear the misunderstanding as she was already gone. He ran a hand down his face and followed her before ruffling his hair in frustration–clearly, she wasn't going to let him continue his tirade. "What about Harry? What about us?" He snarled through gritted teeth. He needed this entire family to survive. As complicated as it is, she was still his son's mother. He didn't want Harry to grow up without her.
He could see hesitance flash through her eyes before her expression softened and she sighed.
"This is for Harry. If this deal goes through, we'll have an advantage over Vol-You know who, and we wouldn't need to go under the Fidelius." She explained.
He saw her right-hand twitch over her left forearm, trying to stop herself from rubbing it, he reckoned. He was surprised he even noted the new tic. It wasn't as noticeable as her new habit of biting her lip raw. She would do both every time she was focused, overwhelmed, or stressed; whenever she thought he was asleep and she was on the floor of the room searching through several tomes, religiously writing down notes on a small notebook she would hide somewhere afterward; whenever she was watching Harry doodle on the floor; whenever she was cooking. He didn't know where it came from.
"What if something goes wrong? You can't go, Lily. Let them take care of it." He stepped closer and lowered his voice to a pleading tone.
"You can't stop me."
"Lily.."
"- I have to do this.-" She looked down with resolve and furrowed her brows as she thought.
"Lily…" He tried to call her but she just kept going, listing reasons and arguing that she was going whether he liked it or not. He was breathing heavily, trying to rein his temper.
"- You're taking a leave from the Department anyway so you can stay here with Harry while I'm gone." She turned away decisively as if that was it but James pulled her wrist. Probably a bit too hard because she crashed into his chest.
"You're not going. Bones can–"
She was now massaging her forearm as she glared up at him. "Just listen, James! If this goes wrong, the Order will have to face the consequences! PEOPLE COULD DIE! They-"
"I'D RATHER THEM THAN YOU!" He shouted, effectively shutting her up. He took this opportunity to continue softly. "They can take someone else like Macdonald or Jones. This is not the time to be a hero, Lily. Harry needs you." I need you.
…
Hermione was frustrated.
Exasperated. Aggravated. And every synonym of the word.
The nights she spent recalling all the events that happened in the first Wizarding War, researching theories will be for nothing if they don't secure this deal. This whole second chance would be for naught! When they got home Yesterday she immediately locked herself up in the modest-sized library after putting Harry down for his power nap to write down everything she knew was going to happen. The Blishwicks were more connected to many of the Order members' deaths and disappearances than she thought. Fenwick, Edgar Bones, the McKinnons and Moreaus, the Prewetts, Hestia Jones, Dorcas Meadowes, and finally the Potters. Everything was linked and if they secured the neutral family, that meant the Potters would be safe enough not to go under the Fidelius and she'd be able to help freely.
She scratched her left forearm again. It was a wonder she didn't still have nightmares about her torture in the Malfoy manor. She could still feel the excruciating pain of the dull cursed blade carving Mudblood on her skin.
Back to the fuming, bespectacled, messy-haired man in front of her. She scowled at him. He was just like Harry being so overprotective and stubborn. The only difference was that Harry would've shut down and told her to do what she wanted after the first few minutes of arguing. Honestly, it wasn't even a life-threatening mission. Amelia Bones, Hestia Jones, and Peter Pettigrew were coming. She still doesn't trust the latter so she was glad she'd be able to keep an eye on him. She did need to owl Sirius or maybe Remus to watch Mr. Potter while she was gone. He's as reckless as he is brave and with how he's acting right now, she wouldn't be surprised if he followed her from Somerset all the way to York. She knew where he was coming from but she needed him to understand just how important this is and stay here to protect Harry.
She bit her lip and stared at the man in front of her. Her heart went out to him but she couldn't be under the Fidelius. That meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world bar their secret keeper and that couldn't happen if she wanted to prevent any wrongful deaths. The sooner they find Voldemort's weakness, the sooner everyone will have their happily ever after and she can finally return Lily's body and rest.
"I need to help, James. You saw how most of them doubted the Blishwicks. I can't tell you how but this is a matter of life and death." She held the hands holding her shoulders.
They looked into each other's eyes for several moments and she saw his walls break down until he finally sighed in defeat. "When are you going?"
"Tonight at eight." She whispered, ashamed that she didn't tell him right away.
"Merlin, Lils." She heard him exhale forcefully so she busied herself with a confused Harry who had been coloring on a tiny table and chair James transfigured from two pieces of lumber. "That's in an hour."
"Mi. Dada." Harry happily pointed at the colorful figures on the paper. One had long red scribbles and the other short messy black ones as hair. She smiled and ruffled his hair before giving him a kiss on the head.
"That's beautiful, Harry."
Hermione swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she hugged her best friend close. She didn't want to leave him but she trusted Mr Potter to protect him at all costs. She needed to talk with Dumbledore if the worse came to worst and the deal fell through. Moody had told them before they left the Longbottom mansion it would be the deciding factor if they would be put under the concealing spell or not. Sirius was ordered to stay behind because they needed someone to scout Remus's assigned area while he was away on a mission so she knew he'd be frequenting the cottage while she was gone.
"Okay, but you're taking Zippy with you." Mr Potter suddenly clapped with determination. "ZIPPY!"
Before Hermione could react, a house elf probably older than Kreacher appeared with a pop.
What the actual bloody hell?! An elf! They had an elf! Hermione was shocked and her inner activist bristled.
"Master James called?" The house elf, Zippy, bowed so low his pointy nose touched the ground. He was wearing what looked to be a grey tea towel fashioned into an imitation of a suit. His eyebrows were grown and matched the color of his gray beard. He seemed very proper and stood almost imperiously with his chin in the air once he straightened. He didn't look malnourished like Dobby and Kreacher did so that mollified Hermione a little. She wondered why she hadn't seen the old elf since she came here or even in the future.
"Look after Lily in her mission. See to it that she's safe at all times." Mr Potter's ordering tone irritated Hermione not just because of the master-servant thing but because she didn't need anyone to protect her. She is an independent woman who can protect herself, Thank you very much!
"I don't need babysitting!" She protested and crossed her arms. The wizened house elf eyed her enigmatically and bowed to James again.
"Zippy will protect this witch, master."
The patriarch nodded with bemused satisfaction and ignored the elf's determined emphasis before waving his hand in a dismissing manner that irked Hermione even more. After one last bow to his master and Harry, the elf disappeared with a pop and she glared at Mr Potter once again.
"Take your order back. I do not need any coddling. I can protect myself." With a humph, she stomped upstairs to pack her necessities in Lily's purse she spelled with an undetectable extension charm.
.
She slammed the door closed but regretted doing so once she calmed down. She was acting like a child throwing a tantrum. Like Ron. And baby Harry.
She threw in some jeans, a few shirts, and light jackets, as well as her undergarments and toiletry. She also packed the books she shoved under the bed to hide from Mr. Potter and the small notebook containing the old future. She double-checked, triple-checked, and even quadruple-checked. You can never be too sure.
She went through her bedside table drawer and picked up the hastily hidden envelope, the yellow wax of the Bones seal dully reflecting the candlelight. She removed the parchment it contained and delicately unfolded it, reading the short message written once again.
Dear Mrs. Potter,
Kingsley and I have contacted our friends and they have agreed to meet us as soon as possible. I remember you once complained about the lack of ingredients found in these areas and it just so happens that these friends own an apothecary in Strensall with shelves brimming with things you might find useful. The trip would only last a few days, maybe a week maximum and we would be delighted to have you. If you ever find us dull, I am sure our friends would love to discuss grippingly complicated topics as I highly doubt Pettigrew will be able to keep up with your insightful discussions. Peggy had thankfully agreed to help us and we were able to book a portkey leaving tomorrow night at eight-thirty.
We'll be waiting at Pettigrew's.
Best,
Amelia Bones
Hermione deduced that Amelia wasn't the best at writing cryptic messages as it was incredibly easy to understand what the Auror was saying. Kingsley and Amelia wanted her to be the one to talk to the Blishwicks and it seemed like Peter was coming on this mission as well. She mentioned they had an apothecary with 'useful ingredients' meaning most of them were being illegally sold or procured and they wanted her to take advantage of it. She was rather curious about who Peggy was but she dismissed it thinking it must be another contact of the Order.
"Is there anything we could do to change your mind?" She jumped when she heard Mr Potter's voice. Her eyes met his which were now missing their hard determination and protectiveness. Vulnerability and worry are now in place. Hermione wasn't sure she preferred this.
"We've just talked about this, James." She sighed.
"What time is your portkey?"
"Thirty before nine."
"Mama mi go?" Harry tilted his small head of disarrayed raven locks.
"I'll go with you."
Hermione looked at Lily's husband in disbelief as the man continued, shoving his clothes inside a duffel bag he found in the cabinet. "It's a little short notice but-"
"What? No! You have to stay here with Harry." She stood up. She couldn't believe he was even considering this.
"I'm sure Alice or Marlene could take him for a couple of days." James paused and glanced at the confused child holding on to his mother's skirt tightly. "I can't let you go there alone, Lily."
"I won't be alone! I'll have Amelia, Kingsley, and even Peter with me."
Looking at Mr Potter's distressed expression made Hermione clench her jaw. She took his hand and led him to the edge of the bed, pressing down on his shoulders to make him sit down. He was looking at his feet and his hands were fisted. She sighed and brought her hands behind his neck to tilt his head up and he met her eyes with bewilderment.
Her heart skipped a beat.
His hazel irises looked softer and lighter somehow behind those thin frames. His dark hair was an absolute mess from constantly running his hand through it.
She stroked his stubbled jaw with her thumbs, leaning down. Their faces were but a few inches away - breaths hitched - but she caught herself and pulled back before she could get closer and embraced him. James didn't hesitate to respond by circling his large arms around her waist and burrowing his face into the material of her shirt.
"I promise to be careful." She whispered softly, playing with his hair. The strands were softer than they looked and she felt him hum when her fingernails scratched his scalp lightly as she did Crookshanks when he was in a cuddly mood.
"Just-" He nodded. "-be safe out there."
"Mi! 'Arry hug too, mama!" Her tiny best friend squeezed through their bodies with a toothy grin, hair as dark and tousled as his father.
James released her to take Harry in his arms before standing up, his usual spirited smile back in place. He pressed an exaggerated kiss to his son's cheek - which made the toddler exclaim "Ew!" - and a lingering one to her forehead, his free hand firmly gripping the curve of her hip.
…
Four figures gripped their wands tighter as they watched the scene before them with forced detachment. One in particular could feel the beads of sweat trickling down his temple underneath his mask but he refused to show any sign of the fear and disgust that was otherwise roaring inside him. Sitting behind the owner's dark and wooden walnut desk with an expression of glee was their leader. The Dark Lord.
Voldemort watched with a disturbing amount of delight as one of his death eaters squirmed, screaming in pain, on the ground. The figure knew the owner wouldn't be happy and would chat his ear out afterward - those rugs were expensive. The death eater - he didn't know his name - writhed with agony as he vomited blood, his intestines halfway outside his body as the curse worked its magic. It was not pretty.
The figure caught another colleague's dark brown gaze and tried to send a warning look through his mask when he caught the person's wand arm flinch and right foot step slightly forward. The dark lord thankfully didn't notice the mistake and the figure shook his head discreetly and the masked fellow slumped in sorrow and defeat.
Another comrade of his was breathing heavily and clenching his fists so tightly that he wouldn't be surprised if he was drawing blood. He saw the shorter death eater beside the man grab his hand under their sleeves and he met familiar light green irises that shone with tears and anger. The four shared silent promises with each other before hiding any signs of emotions behind an impenetrable mask; far more than the physical masks they were wearing.
All the death eaters felt their left forearms burn as the person on the ground, one of theirs, was finally free from the land of the living. It was silent for a moment as the ones closest to Bertram Aubrey mourned for their friend's loss before Voldemort's loud cackle filled the room. He walked in a circle, making his followers take a step back closer to the walls.
"This, everyone, is what happens to a traitor!" The man sneered down at the corpse by his feet with utter disdain. "He grew weak! And we can't have that, can we?"
Lord Voldemort could've been a handsome man. He is a handsome man. With his black streaked with gray combed and gelled back neatly and a sharp jawline. But what was so out of place was his beady red eyes that gleamed sinisterly and the evil grin that would curve his lips maniacally. His crazed eyes swept over his quiet audience and the figure almost flinched when they stopped on him. The dark lord beckoned him over and he obeyed, eyes never straying to the dead body that lay on the floor.
"Yes, my lord?" He inclined his head.
"It is all thanks to your report, Severus. I knew I could count on you." The vile man patted him on the back and a shiver of hatred ran down his spine but he kept a straight face. He felt the three angry gazes he already expected and he gritted his teeth. They would thank him and understand later.
"It was my honor." His voice was monotone and mechanical.
Ever since one of his closest friends disappeared after trying to desert, he had transformed in ways no one should. He regretted not listening to the pureblood heir who had tried to tell him they could defeat Voldemort and when Regulus Black's letters finally stopped coming, he knew he'd lost a friend he treated as a brother. To further save his and their three other friends' arses, he had to become the ruthless death eater and more. He was turning into a reckless Gryffindor and he wasn't proud of it. There was only one thing that put a wrench in his plans – Harry Potter.
He had been in the Leaky Cauldron trying to drown his sorrows when he saw a concerned Dumbledore and a shaky Sybil Trelawney in the pub's far corner. Ever the curious one, he moved closer and overheard a prophecy pertaining to the dark lord and his defeat. Severus thought he ought to deliver the news to the man and it wasn't until he found out that his childhood friend - Lily's - son was one of two children who Voldemort sought to kill to stop the prophecy's words from coming to fruition.
One of his friends had been furious with him and had screamed and cried for his stupidity as he stood stricken with regret and dread after the dark lord left the estate. He'd basically handed each of the Potters a neon shirt that had 'Kill Me!' embedded with rhinestones and Voldemort was happy to do so.
"You may go," Voldemort ordered the other death eaters in the room. "Rabastan, stay."
Two cloaked figures stopped and the shorter one gave his comrade's clenched fists a last squeeze before leaving him behind.
"My lord?" Rabastan's voice was hoarse from unuse. Voldemort gestured for him to stand beside Severus and the death eater followed.
"You may remove your masks."
The two death eaters shared a quick glance with each other before moving their hoods down. They muttered the counter spell for their masks before removing them. Severus studied his colleague and noted the shadows underneath the brunet's brown eyes. He looked more sallow and just overall disheveled. The Lestrange noticed and slightly bared his teeth making him raise a sardonic brow before the both of them turned their attention back to the dark lord.
A forbidding grin grew on the old man's face as his red irises darted between the two of them slowly.
"How do you feel about a vacation?"