James stared at his reflection in the mirror. Months had passed, and his nose looked as good as new. As if Snape had never broken it. James had cursed himself a hundred times over since that night. How could he have let him escape? He'd been so close. He'd been watching the apothecary for a long time, waiting for the day when the streets were empty, when Snape would be all alone, and then–
He didn't know where Snape got his ingredients now, or where he was staying. But James would find him. It was only a matter of time.
Out of the corner of his eye, James saw a silver vision. A lynx, ghostly and ethereal padded silently through the halls of his house, slipping into the bathroom, to deliver a report. "Another body has been discovered in Knockturn," the voice that emanated from it was Kingsley Shacklebolt's. "You will meet Black at the Ministry and investigate the scene together."
The patronus disappeared, evaporating into a fine mist. I should probably tell Lily where I'm going. She's pregnant. I shouldn't worry her. It's not good for the baby, James thought as he stepped out of the house without even saying goodbye.
He met up with Sirius in the Ministry Atrium beside the fountain. His old friend was looking worse for wear; his clothes were rumpled and there was a sour stench wafting off his unwashed hair. He reminded James of Snivellus at his worst. His mouth twitched, wanting to smile. Pads would probably deck him if he told him that. "Any word of your brother?" James asked as he came to a stop.
Sirius flicked his cigarette into the fountain's churning waters. "Nothing."
"He's powerful. There's still hope–"
Sirius barked out a laugh that was as sour as his breath. "We both know there isn't. If it wasn't the Knockturn Killer, then it was the Death Eaters. Maybe even Malfoy. He and Cissy didn't waste any time." Sirius scrubbed at his face. "Let's just go."
These days, James rarely saw Knockturn in the daylight. He squinted up at the winter sun high above, and despite how bright it was the air was cold enough to see his breath puffing in front of his face. The light didn't do Knockturn any favours. It illuminated all of Knockturn's filth, the trash in the gutters, the dead cats left lying to rot. The people were just as ugly, just as filthy. Their souls were as rotten as the ramshackle buildings that lined the street. James didn't know why the Ministry was putting so much effort into finding the Knockturn Killer. These people… they didn't matter. They lived like animals, and they would die like animals.
The only death James regretted was the Muggle waiter; he had been an innocent. But these people here, in Knockturn, they were suitable substitutes. Of course, they wouldn't have had to die at all if Snape didn't–
Sirius slowed down as they made their way to the crime scene, his feet dragging behind him as they edged closer and closer to the circle of Aurors who lingered at the entrance to a back alley. "Prongs," Sirius whispered, his voice hoarse. "What if it's him?"
"It's not," James quickly assured him.
"You don't know that. You can't know that. James, he fits the profile."
Regulus was thin and had black hair, but he wasn't that tall and he was far too aristocratic for James's taste. He would never touch Sirius's brother. Whatever happened to him, it wasn't because of James. "I'll go first, alright?"
The Aurors parted to let him through. James stepped up to the corpse he had made the night before. "It's not him," he called back.
Sirius went boneless for a second and leaned against a building for support. James felt that familiar spark of heat and anger flare up inside of him. Since when did Padfoot care about his brother? He was acting pathetic. He had tried to feed Snivellus to Moony, and yet a few dead kids was enough to drive him to drink? What did he think would happen if James hadn't been there to pull Snape to safety? Idiot. Big, tough Sirius Black falling apart at the sight of a little blood.
Weak. Pathetic. Dirty.
James liked them dirty.
Sirius let go of the building and walked over to examine the corpse. James stared dispassionately down at the young man. Those dark eyes that had inflamed him last night had turned milky. "Throat was cut. His trousers are undone," James said.
"Assaulted?" Sirius asked.
"There's no tearing, or any traces of semen."
James never even got a chance to take his cock out. He always came way too soon. And, anyway, that man lying there wasn't who he really wanted. It'll be different with Snape. He'll take his time. And then he'll be able to put all of this behind him.
"His name was Cyrus De Mille. Pureblood, though one born on the wrong side of the sheets. Friends with a few suspected Death Eaters." Sirius pursed his lips. "All the victims have different backgrounds and political leanings. I don't think a Death Eater is responsible for these attacks."
"The method of execution is similar–"
"I know what it looks like," Sirius hissed, his eyes darting to look at the Aurors guarding the entrance. "Trust me, I'm well aware of what my cousin is capable of. But Bellatrix doesn't discriminate. Men, women, old, young. She doesn't care who they are. There's a very deliberate pattern here."
James wished he knew the spell to cast the Dark Mark. It'd make covering his tracks easier. He was going to beat the spell out of the first Death Eater he caught alive.
"Any witnesses?"
"If there are, no one's talking."
They covered the area with magic, searching for any small clue the killer left behind. They found nothing. James knew all the tricks. "Let's bag the body."
"Any family?"
"None have come forward."
Another bound for Potter's Field. James felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Have you talked to Moony lately?" James asked as they made their way back to the Ministry.
Sirius frowned. "No."
"Well, Dumbledore has him going on all these special missions. He's probably just busy."
"He's been pulling away ever since the prank." Sirius didn't need to elaborate which prank.
And whose fault is that? Pathetic, he thought again, and his mind turned speculative.
James looked over at Sirius. His eyes weren't that beautiful shade of dark brown like Snape's, or that man he had met the night before. They were instead a pale, colourless grey. And he wasn't waif-thin like Snape either. Sirius had packed on some weight since school, his carefully sculpted physique wasting away from a diet consisting mostly of beer and liquor. That spark fizzled out the longer James studied him. Anyway, this was still Padfoot. James would regret it if he hurt him. What's that old saying? Don't shit where you eat?
"Pads, look, I'm saying this as your friend, but maybe the drinking has something to do with Remus not wanting to hang around anymore–"
"Fuck you, James, I'm not heartless like you!" Sirius snapped, baring his teeth like a wild dog. "Maybe you can go home and forget everything you see, but I can't! Not when I know my baby brother is probably lying dead in a gutter somewhere with his cut throat and his pants around his ankles!" Sirius choked up, his eyes red with unshed tears.
He doesn't even cry like Snape. "I do what I have to do," James coldly told him. "While you're sitting around drinking and feeling sorry for yourself, I'm working. People depend on me. I have a wife, and a child on the way. If you think that makes me heartless, then fine. I don't care. At least I'm doing something."
Sirius flinched. "I didn't mean–" he stuttered. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Be better."
Sirius bit his lip, like a chastised little boy. "I am sorry, though. I don't mean to do the things I do. Thanks for sticking around. You're a good friend."
Yeah, I'd miss him too much. James slung his arm around Padfoot and guided him along. "Come on, let's go."
"I'm home!" James called out as he stepped inside their London townhouse.
"Upstairs!" Lily's voice called out from above.
James took a step forward and felt something crunch underneath his foot. He looked down and spotted a folded piece of parchment that was half-hidden underneath the rug. How long had it been lying there? It wasn't there when James left that morning, was it? No, he didn't think so. He picked it up and examined. It looked like a letter. No seal though. Had someone shoved it underneath the door? Why not use an owl? James unfolded the letter and saw very familiar handwriting.
Lily,
I'm sorry. I know you never wanted to speak to me again, but there is something important I must tell you. I have a meeting with Dumbledore at the Hog's Head on the 22nd at three o'clock. We can talk there. There will be plenty of people inside, including Dumbledore, if you're worried about your safety. Just don't bring Potter. What I have to say concerns him. I know you think I'm crazy and obsessed, but you don't understand. Please, you need to know the truth.
Well, well, well.