Thoughts in the Abyss: Chapter IV
Title: Thoughts in the Abyss
Rating: PG-13 / R
Length: Chaptered, WIP
Pairings: James/Lily, Frank/Alice
Era: Marauder Era and Vold-War I
Summary: Peter receives an urgent letter while on international business, James paces in the kitchen while the Order hopes for news on Sirius, and a little girl has a strange dream.
~*~
Chapter IV: Mystic Dreams and Foreign Affairs
Night had already fallen over the busy city, although the simple darkness of nature did not in any way cause the people of New York to end their day. Streets were still crowded with automobiles, and large groups of people entered and exited the doors of stores, restaurants, and theatres. Normal office hours might have ended for the Muggle world (and that of the Wizarding World, too, come to think of it), but there was no way that New York City would slow down just because the sun had set.
In the midst of these crowded and noisy streets walked a young man, pulling his long coat tighter around him in an attempt to block out the bitter wind of mid-February. His short, blond hair was barely visible under his hat, while his gloved hands constantly changed position from clinging onto the coat to keep it pulled closed and sticking into the warm pockets of the garment. Pale green eyes surveyed the street, darting from right to left, in front of and behind him, ensuring that the young man did not run into anyone else.
It was not long before the young man made it to his destination, a massive stone building at the end of the street, whose wooden front doors were adorned with golden handles that shined in the streetlights. The glass of the building’s windows were as clear as could be, the snow was kept away from the stone steps that led into the building, and a plush, scarlet carpet lay just beyond the doorway.
The famous hotel, Hotel Warrington Enchant, was one of the most unique establishments in America, not strictly due to its extensive, luxurious nature. The Hotel Warrington Enchant happened to be only one of three establishments in the entire world that was both Magical and Muggle. The hotel’s staff consisted of both members of the Magical World and those of Muggle society, and the guest registers had the same amount of mixture. Dignitaries from many international governments had stayed in the Hotel Warrington Enchant, and the hotel’s five-star rating definitely made the stay enjoyable.
An inner lobby was home to a great, mahogany front desk on one side, with stands of maps and brochures and public telephones adorning the other wall. Comfortable chairs and sofas were located near the centre of the massive room, allowing guests to enjoy a peaceful time in front of a roaring fire while they waited for friends or for a free table at the hotel’s restaurant.
A small gift shop was located next to the restaurant, its shelves stocked with everything from simple snacks and beverages to expensive souvenirs that would nearly drain a poor family’s financial funds. Books filled another shelf near the fireplace, and a large yet simple fountain not far from the hotel’s entrance completed the more noticeable of the lobby’s decorations.
All in all, the owner of the Hotel Warrington Enchant had definitely not spared anything when it came to decorating his hotel in the most luxurious manner.
“Ah, Mr Pettigrew,” called out a voice, and the young blond-haired man turned around, his eyes facing the hotel’s front desk to see the current employee waving her hand towards him to catch his attention in a most undignified manner.
“Rachel,” replied Peter as he approached the desk, plastering as kind of a smile on his face as he could.
Rachel Kelly was a pretty little Muggle, what with her curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Her make-up always seemed to be perfect, and her teeth appeared as if they sparkled every time Peter glanced at them. (If he hadn’t known that she was a Muggle, Peter would have sworn that she’d used a charm to get to them to sparkle like they did.) Rachel only stood barely over five feet tall; her lack of height was one of the main faults in her appearance, as far as she was concerned - though such a fault was partly corrected by Rachel’s high heels that added at least several inches to the short young girl.
Unfortunately for Peter, she was perhaps the dumbest individual that he had ever come across in all of his life. Well, perhaps not dumber than Crabbe or Goyle, he thought suddenly, thinking back on his two former classmates. But she’d definitely come close. And to make matters worse, Miss Kelly seemed to have developed her own little crush on Mr Pettigrew.
“How was your dinner, Mr Pettigrew?” asked Rachel once Peter had fully approached the desk.
Peter sighed inwardly, cursing the fact that his manners wouldn’t allow him to just ignore her. “Dinner was fine, Rachel,” he said. “My business was completed just as I’d hoped.” Give as little information as possible. That was the first rule when on these diplomatic missions, and it was the very first thing his boss in the Department of International Magical Cooperation had told him. It was a rule that was to be followed with everyone, and not just the ones the actual negotiations were happening with.
Peter Pettigrew had been in New York City for almost a week, doing official work as a representative of the British government with the Department of Magical Defence of the United States, as well as some unofficial work as a member of the Order. His official work now finished after this last dinner, he would be starting his Order work by meeting a witch, Annie Sowers, tomorrow morning, who supposedly had agreed to help Dumbledore in the ongoing war with the Dark Lord.
“-So very glad to hear that, Mr Pettigrew,” said the receptionist, and Peter jerked his head, suddenly realising that his attention had drifted from the conversation. Taking a quick glance at his watch, however, Peter saw that it was nearing nine in the evening and he was exhausted. It would be almost two in the morning back in Britain now, he thought, doing some quick math in his head to figure out the time difference. He had had a very long day, after all - one that was booked with meetings and negotiations since around six in the morning. No wonder I’m exhausted.
“Listen, Rachel,” he started, barely stifling a yawn that sought to erupt as he opened his mouth. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, but I’ve had a long day, and I’d really like to get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning, perhaps,” he finished as he started walking away. His finger was hovering right over the lift’s button when Rachel called back to him to wait.
He turned around and walked back towards the desk just enough for him to hear her.
“You received a letter earlier this evening,” she said before lowering her voice slightly, so as not to be overheard. “It arrived by owl post, of course, and it seemed quite urgent. The manager left it on the desk in your room, but the owl flew off immediately after delivering it.”
Nodding, Peter thanked her and headed back towards the lift, pressing the button for the fifth floor after he entered. His mind was already lost in speculation over who the letter could have been from, considering that he didn’t think anyone here in the States would have needed to contact him urgently, and anyone back home would surely have used something else other than an owl. After all, making the poor animal fly overseas seemed a little harsh, especially if the message was important.
Yawning as he opened the door to his hotel suite, Peter’s eyes instantly fell on the roll of parchment that had been laid in the very centre of his desk. It was tied tightly around the middle with a length of red and gold ribbon, and Peter felt his heartbeat quicken. The only letters that he had ever seen bound in that way came from Dumbledore himself and had to do with Order of the Phoenix business. Very rarely, too, did the letters contain good news.
Exhaling slowly in an effort to calm down, Peter pulled himself away from the door and towards the desk. He picked up the letter, frowned once again upon seeing the faint crest for the Order on the parchment, undid the ribbon, and began to read, his frown and worry growing as his eyes took in the words that were written.
Dear Peter …
----
James had continued to pace in the kitchen, taking constant glances at the Muggle clock sitting on a nearby shelf. He watched as the minutes slowly ticked by, the stretch of time growing since Lily had told him they had sent Patronuses to Sirius. She had left to join Remus and Dumbledore soon after telling him, and he had not seen her since. Remus occasionally popped into the room to check on his friend, and every once in a while, an Order member would enter to grab a drink or something for the others. None of them ever spoke to the pacing man, though.
Up and down the kitchen James Potter walked and the tick … tick … tick of the clock was the only other noise in the room. Whenever the door swung open, sounds of muttered voices could be heard coming from the nearby room where the rest of the Order was gathered, but save for those rare moments, there was just the sounds of the single clock to accompany the pacing wizard.
Up and down …
Up … Turn around at the end of the table … Down … Turn around in front of the door … Up … Turn … Down … Turn …
Up and down …
Thoughts swirled in James’s head as he paced: thoughts of the previous battle, of those who had died, and of his wife; thoughts of his best friends and of the conversation he had shared with one of them just seconds before the night’s raid.
That was it, James knew. There was something about that conversation - something about how Sirius was acting - something that James must have missed at the time - that should have told James that something wasn’t right. Over and over, he examined the words of that talk in his head, twisting them this way and that way, knowing that surely it was just a matter of time before he found the answer. The other thoughts occasionally intruded into his mind, but the focus remained - ultimately - on that conversation.
“Sirius?”
There was a pause, and James glanced over at his friend. Sirius didn’t even look like he had heard James say his name, so he tried again.
“Sirius?”
Once again, there was no response. James, taking in the appearance of the man next to him, realised that Sirius was quite pale, his grey eyes staring intently at the manor in front of the group. He seemed as if he was in a trance, almost, and James reached out a hand to grasp his friend on the shoulder, giving him a slight shake.
“Sirius?” he said for the third time.
He watched as Sirius blinked repeatedly, took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly as if to clear to it. But the paleness didn’t seem to lessen, and he still kept his gaze focussed on the stone building. “Everything all right?” whispered James, pausing just long enough for Sirius to answer - but only silence filled the space.
“Sirius -”
“Yeah,” Sirius finally muttered, turning to look at his friend for the first time since James had started talking to him. He put his own hand on James’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine … I’m fine, Prongs,” he said.
James just stared at his friend and he knew that his eyes portrayed a level of worry. Sirius had never taken that long to focus, and James could not dislodge the feeling of unease that filled him. “You’re sure?” he asked hesitantly as he watched Sirius's eyes glance back at the manor. If he had not known any better, James would have thought that he saw a flicker of fear flash in Sirius's eyes for the briefest of moments.
But Sirius had just shrugged, the look disappearing as if it had never been there - and James still wasn’t sure if it had been there. “Positive,” he had said, a smile appearing on his face as he continued. “It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking …”
“About?”
The old Padfoot shone through then, James saw, as the mischievous twinkle entered Sirius's eyes and his smile grew. “About how much fun tonight should be. What else?”
James opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius never gave him the chance as he turned to the others, saying, “Let’s go.”
The footsteps of a pacing James Potter had suddenly stopped, and right in mid-step as well. He stood with one foot in front of the other, his arms hanging frozen at his sides and his eyes wide, as if he had just had a sudden epiphany of understanding. His mouth hung open in a silent ‘O’, and he was at the opposite end of the room, halfway turned towards the door as if he was stopped in mid-turn.
That was how Lily found her husband as she entered the kitchen, Remus coming in right behind her. Both of them froze in the doorway upon seeing James, who had not even noticed the entrance of his wife and friend, and if the situation had not been as dark and dire as it was, they surely would have at least smiled at the comedic picture in front of them.
Unfortunately, they had sought out James to deliver some bad news, and it was not a time for smiles or laughs or humour.
Remus cleared his throat, the sound enough to catch James’s attention. He turned around and upon catching sight of who the arrivals were, James hurried across the kitchen to stand right in front of them.
“Did he respond?” he asked hurriedly, his hazel eyes glancing for a split second back at the clock to see how much time had passed. He was slightly shocked to see that almost a half hour had elapsed since Lily had told him about the Patronuses. The hopeful look on his face soon faded, however, as he took in the grim expressions on both Lily’s and Remus's.
“The time limit passed a few minutes ago,” whispered Lily, biting her lip slightly - a sure sign that she was worried or anxious. The red-haired witch looked even more worried than she had when it was confirmed that Sirius had not returned. “And Sirius never answered.”
James could not seem to comprehend the words, not in the slightest. It was as if it was taking his brain extraordinarily long to process information, any information, and Lily’s statement was getting ‘lost in translation’ between his ears and his brain. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. Just like it had been earlier when he had realised Sirius wasn’t at Headquarters, when Remus had asked where Sirius was. He did not even realise that he was shaking until Lily grasped his hands, causing his eyes to glance down and see his trembling fingers.
“We came to tell you that Dumbledore is taking a group back to the manor,” said Remus, meeting James’s hazel eyes as the other wizard looked up from his hands. “I -”
“I’m going,” interrupted James, a part of him surprised that his voice didn’t join his hands and shake. “You can’t tell me that I won’t come looking for Sirius, Moony, so don’t even try.”
A slight grin became visible on the werewolf’s face for a brief moment. “What I was going to say, Prongs, is that I take it you’re coming with us. But I see now that I don’t have to ask.”
“Damn right, you don’t have to ask,” said James, nodding and exhaling in an effort to calm himself.
Mere seconds ticked by, but it was as if a transformation took place in front of both Lily and Remus where the other wizard was concerned. The few seconds were enough for James to regain his calm and become for all purposes the Auror and fighter that he had been earlier in the evening. James in Auror-mode was not anything new for either Remus or Lily, but they would both have admitted that this time was perhaps the fastest that they’d had seen the transformation.
Both James and Sirius had just completed their Auror training only last month, finishing at the top of the class together. And one of the first things that every Auror learned was the ability to put worries aside and quiet the emotions that could become crippling when going on a mission. Becoming an unfeeling, robotic monster wasn’t the goal, but neither could an Auror afford to be completely ruled by their feelings. A fine line, such a thing was, indeed.
Yet tonight, James was finding out that putting the emotions aside and focussing strictly on the job was a lot harder when it was his best friend at stake.
But he would do it.
Deep breath.
“When are we leaving?”
----
Many, many miles away from Britain, across a massive ocean and over the length of an entire other country, a young girl tossed and turned in her bed. Her long, white-blonde hair tangled around her as she moved under the covers, sheets and blankets pulled up to her chin as the night was particularly cool for California. The girl’s silver eyes were squeezed shut as she slept; her dreams, though normally quite weird, had already started to become even stranger than usual.
A large, white, empty room stretched out in front of the young girl, and there was only one other person inside it. She was an older woman, if her long, silvery grey hair and wrinkles were anything to go by, and she looked very confused. The old woman was calling out, her voice echoing around the room. Apparently, the old woman did not know where she was either.
And it was then that the young girl knew what she had to do.
The small child approached the old woman, and she talked to her. If she had thought about it, the girl would have realised that she had no idea what she was saying, her words sounding far too cryptic for her ten-year-old mind to come up with while she was asleep. But, for some reason, the girl did seem to understand, and she knew what she had to tell the woman.
“You must inform the White Teacher of this knowledge,” she said, and she pulled the old woman down to her level to whisper in her ear, subconsciously knowing and understanding that the information was for this woman’s ears only.
“Fading are the clouds over the Star,
Who seeks and fights to break through.
The power of the Serpent stretches far
And seeks to overcome the clouds, too.
“Power alike to the Serpent’s touch
First put the clouds in place.
But the memories of such
Have long since been erased.”
The small girl paused for a moment, a part of her feeling very confused over what she was saying. The conscious part of the child did not understand her words in the slightest, and she was pretty sure, judging by the expression on the old woman’s face, that the other woman did not understand either.
But she also knew that she had to continue, whether someone understood her words or not.
“Not enough were the King’s actions,
And back to the Black Serpent’s Den
Did the Warrior come with satisfactions,
Bringing the Star back with them.”
Her voice began taking on a deep, omniscient tone as the young girl took a breath and continued.
“Too late will come the Teacher’s friends
To save the Star from the current fate.
But to the King should trust extend,
For his heart isn’t completely ruled by hate.
“Regardless of appearances and acts -
Both in past and present time -
The King’s soul isn’t fully black;
He seeks to repay his crimes.
“What the Warrior and the Serpent seek
Is domination of the Star.
Five moons will pass in weather bleak
Before the Star shines where you are.
“A warning given near the end
To Teacher White and wise:
The Stone will not remain a friend,
Regardless of what’s seen by one’s eyes.”
And the young girl kept talking, telling the old woman many more statements of this cryptic knowledge, the child’s voice growing deeper and greater as time ticked by. The old woman listened, nodding, and it was only after the girl had warned the woman that she must remember the knowledge that the dream ended.
The small child jerked awake from her restless sleep, her silver eyes flying open as her white blankets pooled around her waist in her bed. Her pink, flowery curtains blew slightly in the cool breeze that came through the cracked window in her bedroom, and as she gave a yawn, shaking her head and sending her blonde locks flying, the young girl realised that she could not recall what she had been dreaming before she had awoken.
~*~
There's the conclusion to the fourth chapter.
~Megan
Rating: PG-13 / R
Length: Chaptered, WIP
Pairings: James/Lily, Frank/Alice
Era: Marauder Era and Vold-War I
Summary: Peter receives an urgent letter while on international business, James paces in the kitchen while the Order hopes for news on Sirius, and a little girl has a strange dream.
~*~
Chapter IV: Mystic Dreams and Foreign Affairs
Night had already fallen over the busy city, although the simple darkness of nature did not in any way cause the people of New York to end their day. Streets were still crowded with automobiles, and large groups of people entered and exited the doors of stores, restaurants, and theatres. Normal office hours might have ended for the Muggle world (and that of the Wizarding World, too, come to think of it), but there was no way that New York City would slow down just because the sun had set.
In the midst of these crowded and noisy streets walked a young man, pulling his long coat tighter around him in an attempt to block out the bitter wind of mid-February. His short, blond hair was barely visible under his hat, while his gloved hands constantly changed position from clinging onto the coat to keep it pulled closed and sticking into the warm pockets of the garment. Pale green eyes surveyed the street, darting from right to left, in front of and behind him, ensuring that the young man did not run into anyone else.
It was not long before the young man made it to his destination, a massive stone building at the end of the street, whose wooden front doors were adorned with golden handles that shined in the streetlights. The glass of the building’s windows were as clear as could be, the snow was kept away from the stone steps that led into the building, and a plush, scarlet carpet lay just beyond the doorway.
The famous hotel, Hotel Warrington Enchant, was one of the most unique establishments in America, not strictly due to its extensive, luxurious nature. The Hotel Warrington Enchant happened to be only one of three establishments in the entire world that was both Magical and Muggle. The hotel’s staff consisted of both members of the Magical World and those of Muggle society, and the guest registers had the same amount of mixture. Dignitaries from many international governments had stayed in the Hotel Warrington Enchant, and the hotel’s five-star rating definitely made the stay enjoyable.
An inner lobby was home to a great, mahogany front desk on one side, with stands of maps and brochures and public telephones adorning the other wall. Comfortable chairs and sofas were located near the centre of the massive room, allowing guests to enjoy a peaceful time in front of a roaring fire while they waited for friends or for a free table at the hotel’s restaurant.
A small gift shop was located next to the restaurant, its shelves stocked with everything from simple snacks and beverages to expensive souvenirs that would nearly drain a poor family’s financial funds. Books filled another shelf near the fireplace, and a large yet simple fountain not far from the hotel’s entrance completed the more noticeable of the lobby’s decorations.
All in all, the owner of the Hotel Warrington Enchant had definitely not spared anything when it came to decorating his hotel in the most luxurious manner.
“Ah, Mr Pettigrew,” called out a voice, and the young blond-haired man turned around, his eyes facing the hotel’s front desk to see the current employee waving her hand towards him to catch his attention in a most undignified manner.
“Rachel,” replied Peter as he approached the desk, plastering as kind of a smile on his face as he could.
Rachel Kelly was a pretty little Muggle, what with her curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Her make-up always seemed to be perfect, and her teeth appeared as if they sparkled every time Peter glanced at them. (If he hadn’t known that she was a Muggle, Peter would have sworn that she’d used a charm to get to them to sparkle like they did.) Rachel only stood barely over five feet tall; her lack of height was one of the main faults in her appearance, as far as she was concerned - though such a fault was partly corrected by Rachel’s high heels that added at least several inches to the short young girl.
Unfortunately for Peter, she was perhaps the dumbest individual that he had ever come across in all of his life. Well, perhaps not dumber than Crabbe or Goyle, he thought suddenly, thinking back on his two former classmates. But she’d definitely come close. And to make matters worse, Miss Kelly seemed to have developed her own little crush on Mr Pettigrew.
“How was your dinner, Mr Pettigrew?” asked Rachel once Peter had fully approached the desk.
Peter sighed inwardly, cursing the fact that his manners wouldn’t allow him to just ignore her. “Dinner was fine, Rachel,” he said. “My business was completed just as I’d hoped.” Give as little information as possible. That was the first rule when on these diplomatic missions, and it was the very first thing his boss in the Department of International Magical Cooperation had told him. It was a rule that was to be followed with everyone, and not just the ones the actual negotiations were happening with.
Peter Pettigrew had been in New York City for almost a week, doing official work as a representative of the British government with the Department of Magical Defence of the United States, as well as some unofficial work as a member of the Order. His official work now finished after this last dinner, he would be starting his Order work by meeting a witch, Annie Sowers, tomorrow morning, who supposedly had agreed to help Dumbledore in the ongoing war with the Dark Lord.
“-So very glad to hear that, Mr Pettigrew,” said the receptionist, and Peter jerked his head, suddenly realising that his attention had drifted from the conversation. Taking a quick glance at his watch, however, Peter saw that it was nearing nine in the evening and he was exhausted. It would be almost two in the morning back in Britain now, he thought, doing some quick math in his head to figure out the time difference. He had had a very long day, after all - one that was booked with meetings and negotiations since around six in the morning. No wonder I’m exhausted.
“Listen, Rachel,” he started, barely stifling a yawn that sought to erupt as he opened his mouth. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, but I’ve had a long day, and I’d really like to get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning, perhaps,” he finished as he started walking away. His finger was hovering right over the lift’s button when Rachel called back to him to wait.
He turned around and walked back towards the desk just enough for him to hear her.
“You received a letter earlier this evening,” she said before lowering her voice slightly, so as not to be overheard. “It arrived by owl post, of course, and it seemed quite urgent. The manager left it on the desk in your room, but the owl flew off immediately after delivering it.”
Nodding, Peter thanked her and headed back towards the lift, pressing the button for the fifth floor after he entered. His mind was already lost in speculation over who the letter could have been from, considering that he didn’t think anyone here in the States would have needed to contact him urgently, and anyone back home would surely have used something else other than an owl. After all, making the poor animal fly overseas seemed a little harsh, especially if the message was important.
Yawning as he opened the door to his hotel suite, Peter’s eyes instantly fell on the roll of parchment that had been laid in the very centre of his desk. It was tied tightly around the middle with a length of red and gold ribbon, and Peter felt his heartbeat quicken. The only letters that he had ever seen bound in that way came from Dumbledore himself and had to do with Order of the Phoenix business. Very rarely, too, did the letters contain good news.
Exhaling slowly in an effort to calm down, Peter pulled himself away from the door and towards the desk. He picked up the letter, frowned once again upon seeing the faint crest for the Order on the parchment, undid the ribbon, and began to read, his frown and worry growing as his eyes took in the words that were written.
Dear Peter …
----
James had continued to pace in the kitchen, taking constant glances at the Muggle clock sitting on a nearby shelf. He watched as the minutes slowly ticked by, the stretch of time growing since Lily had told him they had sent Patronuses to Sirius. She had left to join Remus and Dumbledore soon after telling him, and he had not seen her since. Remus occasionally popped into the room to check on his friend, and every once in a while, an Order member would enter to grab a drink or something for the others. None of them ever spoke to the pacing man, though.
Up and down the kitchen James Potter walked and the tick … tick … tick of the clock was the only other noise in the room. Whenever the door swung open, sounds of muttered voices could be heard coming from the nearby room where the rest of the Order was gathered, but save for those rare moments, there was just the sounds of the single clock to accompany the pacing wizard.
Up and down …
Up … Turn around at the end of the table … Down … Turn around in front of the door … Up … Turn … Down … Turn …
Up and down …
Thoughts swirled in James’s head as he paced: thoughts of the previous battle, of those who had died, and of his wife; thoughts of his best friends and of the conversation he had shared with one of them just seconds before the night’s raid.
That was it, James knew. There was something about that conversation - something about how Sirius was acting - something that James must have missed at the time - that should have told James that something wasn’t right. Over and over, he examined the words of that talk in his head, twisting them this way and that way, knowing that surely it was just a matter of time before he found the answer. The other thoughts occasionally intruded into his mind, but the focus remained - ultimately - on that conversation.
“Sirius?”
There was a pause, and James glanced over at his friend. Sirius didn’t even look like he had heard James say his name, so he tried again.
“Sirius?”
Once again, there was no response. James, taking in the appearance of the man next to him, realised that Sirius was quite pale, his grey eyes staring intently at the manor in front of the group. He seemed as if he was in a trance, almost, and James reached out a hand to grasp his friend on the shoulder, giving him a slight shake.
“Sirius?” he said for the third time.
He watched as Sirius blinked repeatedly, took a deep breath, and shook his head slightly as if to clear to it. But the paleness didn’t seem to lessen, and he still kept his gaze focussed on the stone building. “Everything all right?” whispered James, pausing just long enough for Sirius to answer - but only silence filled the space.
“Sirius -”
“Yeah,” Sirius finally muttered, turning to look at his friend for the first time since James had started talking to him. He put his own hand on James’s shoulder. “Everything’s fine … I’m fine, Prongs,” he said.
James just stared at his friend and he knew that his eyes portrayed a level of worry. Sirius had never taken that long to focus, and James could not dislodge the feeling of unease that filled him. “You’re sure?” he asked hesitantly as he watched Sirius's eyes glance back at the manor. If he had not known any better, James would have thought that he saw a flicker of fear flash in Sirius's eyes for the briefest of moments.
But Sirius had just shrugged, the look disappearing as if it had never been there - and James still wasn’t sure if it had been there. “Positive,” he had said, a smile appearing on his face as he continued. “It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking …”
“About?”
The old Padfoot shone through then, James saw, as the mischievous twinkle entered Sirius's eyes and his smile grew. “About how much fun tonight should be. What else?”
James opened his mouth to respond, but Sirius never gave him the chance as he turned to the others, saying, “Let’s go.”
The footsteps of a pacing James Potter had suddenly stopped, and right in mid-step as well. He stood with one foot in front of the other, his arms hanging frozen at his sides and his eyes wide, as if he had just had a sudden epiphany of understanding. His mouth hung open in a silent ‘O’, and he was at the opposite end of the room, halfway turned towards the door as if he was stopped in mid-turn.
That was how Lily found her husband as she entered the kitchen, Remus coming in right behind her. Both of them froze in the doorway upon seeing James, who had not even noticed the entrance of his wife and friend, and if the situation had not been as dark and dire as it was, they surely would have at least smiled at the comedic picture in front of them.
Unfortunately, they had sought out James to deliver some bad news, and it was not a time for smiles or laughs or humour.
Remus cleared his throat, the sound enough to catch James’s attention. He turned around and upon catching sight of who the arrivals were, James hurried across the kitchen to stand right in front of them.
“Did he respond?” he asked hurriedly, his hazel eyes glancing for a split second back at the clock to see how much time had passed. He was slightly shocked to see that almost a half hour had elapsed since Lily had told him about the Patronuses. The hopeful look on his face soon faded, however, as he took in the grim expressions on both Lily’s and Remus's.
“The time limit passed a few minutes ago,” whispered Lily, biting her lip slightly - a sure sign that she was worried or anxious. The red-haired witch looked even more worried than she had when it was confirmed that Sirius had not returned. “And Sirius never answered.”
James could not seem to comprehend the words, not in the slightest. It was as if it was taking his brain extraordinarily long to process information, any information, and Lily’s statement was getting ‘lost in translation’ between his ears and his brain. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. Just like it had been earlier when he had realised Sirius wasn’t at Headquarters, when Remus had asked where Sirius was. He did not even realise that he was shaking until Lily grasped his hands, causing his eyes to glance down and see his trembling fingers.
“We came to tell you that Dumbledore is taking a group back to the manor,” said Remus, meeting James’s hazel eyes as the other wizard looked up from his hands. “I -”
“I’m going,” interrupted James, a part of him surprised that his voice didn’t join his hands and shake. “You can’t tell me that I won’t come looking for Sirius, Moony, so don’t even try.”
A slight grin became visible on the werewolf’s face for a brief moment. “What I was going to say, Prongs, is that I take it you’re coming with us. But I see now that I don’t have to ask.”
“Damn right, you don’t have to ask,” said James, nodding and exhaling in an effort to calm himself.
Mere seconds ticked by, but it was as if a transformation took place in front of both Lily and Remus where the other wizard was concerned. The few seconds were enough for James to regain his calm and become for all purposes the Auror and fighter that he had been earlier in the evening. James in Auror-mode was not anything new for either Remus or Lily, but they would both have admitted that this time was perhaps the fastest that they’d had seen the transformation.
Both James and Sirius had just completed their Auror training only last month, finishing at the top of the class together. And one of the first things that every Auror learned was the ability to put worries aside and quiet the emotions that could become crippling when going on a mission. Becoming an unfeeling, robotic monster wasn’t the goal, but neither could an Auror afford to be completely ruled by their feelings. A fine line, such a thing was, indeed.
Yet tonight, James was finding out that putting the emotions aside and focussing strictly on the job was a lot harder when it was his best friend at stake.
But he would do it.
Deep breath.
“When are we leaving?”
----
Many, many miles away from Britain, across a massive ocean and over the length of an entire other country, a young girl tossed and turned in her bed. Her long, white-blonde hair tangled around her as she moved under the covers, sheets and blankets pulled up to her chin as the night was particularly cool for California. The girl’s silver eyes were squeezed shut as she slept; her dreams, though normally quite weird, had already started to become even stranger than usual.
A large, white, empty room stretched out in front of the young girl, and there was only one other person inside it. She was an older woman, if her long, silvery grey hair and wrinkles were anything to go by, and she looked very confused. The old woman was calling out, her voice echoing around the room. Apparently, the old woman did not know where she was either.
And it was then that the young girl knew what she had to do.
The small child approached the old woman, and she talked to her. If she had thought about it, the girl would have realised that she had no idea what she was saying, her words sounding far too cryptic for her ten-year-old mind to come up with while she was asleep. But, for some reason, the girl did seem to understand, and she knew what she had to tell the woman.
“You must inform the White Teacher of this knowledge,” she said, and she pulled the old woman down to her level to whisper in her ear, subconsciously knowing and understanding that the information was for this woman’s ears only.
“Fading are the clouds over the Star,
Who seeks and fights to break through.
The power of the Serpent stretches far
And seeks to overcome the clouds, too.
“Power alike to the Serpent’s touch
First put the clouds in place.
But the memories of such
Have long since been erased.”
The small girl paused for a moment, a part of her feeling very confused over what she was saying. The conscious part of the child did not understand her words in the slightest, and she was pretty sure, judging by the expression on the old woman’s face, that the other woman did not understand either.
But she also knew that she had to continue, whether someone understood her words or not.
“Not enough were the King’s actions,
And back to the Black Serpent’s Den
Did the Warrior come with satisfactions,
Bringing the Star back with them.”
Her voice began taking on a deep, omniscient tone as the young girl took a breath and continued.
“Too late will come the Teacher’s friends
To save the Star from the current fate.
But to the King should trust extend,
For his heart isn’t completely ruled by hate.
“Regardless of appearances and acts -
Both in past and present time -
The King’s soul isn’t fully black;
He seeks to repay his crimes.
“What the Warrior and the Serpent seek
Is domination of the Star.
Five moons will pass in weather bleak
Before the Star shines where you are.
“A warning given near the end
To Teacher White and wise:
The Stone will not remain a friend,
Regardless of what’s seen by one’s eyes.”
And the young girl kept talking, telling the old woman many more statements of this cryptic knowledge, the child’s voice growing deeper and greater as time ticked by. The old woman listened, nodding, and it was only after the girl had warned the woman that she must remember the knowledge that the dream ended.
The small child jerked awake from her restless sleep, her silver eyes flying open as her white blankets pooled around her waist in her bed. Her pink, flowery curtains blew slightly in the cool breeze that came through the cracked window in her bedroom, and as she gave a yawn, shaking her head and sending her blonde locks flying, the young girl realised that she could not recall what she had been dreaming before she had awoken.
~*~
There's the conclusion to the fourth chapter.
~Megan