Thoughts in the Abyss: Chapter V
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: It is nearing three in the morning, and certain members of the Order of the Phoenix depart from headquarters, planning to return to the manor in hopes of finding Sirius.
Note: A thank you goes to love_rockerkid for beta-ing.
~*~
Chapter V: Searching
The sight that greeted James as he left the kitchen and entered the home’s main room gave the wizard on odd sense of déjà vu. Just hours ago, when the nine of them had been about to leave on the raid, the same scenes were being played out. Numerous scrolls and parchment notes covered the wooden tables, couples and trios of Order members pouring over them in study. Several maps were being levitated in the air, the images enlarged and zoomed in for everyone to see. Buzzing sounds of the many voices speaking reached his ears the moment that James opened the door.
“Ah, James, there you are.”
James looked up at the sound of his name being called, his hazel gaze meeting the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Heads of the many other gathered witches and wizards turned in the direction of the entering trio, but not a single one of them paid much attention to the sudden attention focussed on them. Remus, Lily, and James all crossed the room to stand next to Dumbledore, who was currently next to one of the levitating maps, examining the image carefully.
“When are we leaving?” asked James, for neither Lily nor Remus had given him an answer the first time he’d spoken the question.
The old wizard turned to face the young man, his eyes leaving the enlarged map. “Very soon, James,” he said. “Very soon.” Dumbledore’s attention, however, was soon diverted from the conversation as Frank Longbottom called to the headmaster. “Once everything is prepared, James, we will go,” Dumbledore whispered, before leaving the young wizard as he headed towards Alice, Dorcas, and Frank at the other end of the table.
Nodding, James directed his own attention to the surrounding maps as the headmaster left. The one in front of him - the same that Dumbledore had previously been examining - was just a basic layout of the grounds of the manor. Regardless of its enlarged size, the image was quite plain, holding very little detail. It extended as far as the outside of the surrounding forest, where the Order members had entered earlier in the night. The borders made up of the numerous trees circled along the outer edges of the map, a few faint dirt trails winding through the woods marked on the parchment. At the southern end stood the iron gates, drawn closed in the floating image, and the fence barriers stretched off of the map’s ends. The only representation of the manor itself was a simple, bare, flat drawing located near the centre of the floating parchment.
Another of the hanging maps held the layout of the manor’s actual interior - unless, of course, the Death Eaters had altered a great deal about it once they had begun using the grand structure. Rich with detail that the image of the grounds lacked, it was towards this image that James headed.
He and the others had studied this particular blueprint obsessively ever since it came into the Order’s possession, ever since they had decided that a raid on this manor was necessary. Studying the grounds had been important, but not as important as knowing where things were inside the manor. They had all known that their time inside the structure would have to be short, their movements quick and with little hesitation. Had everything gone as it had been planned, they would have met little resistance in accessing the manor, and gotten within fairly quickly. Yet, it wouldn’t have done for any of them to wander the corridors, getting turned around and lost, having to retreat before anything was accomplished.
James didn’t even think that such was what had happened anyway.
There were, in all, five levels to the manor, though only three main floors. The bottommost level - the largest of the house - consisted of areas that could only be described as being part-dungeon and part-basement. Several rooms could be found on one side of the lower level, being used either as storage or for other miscellaneous jobs, while two corridors on the opposite end held several magically-warded cells. The size of a standard cell in Azkaban, the stone rooms were complete with barred doors, the metal supposedly heated as an extra security measure against escape. It was these very cells that the Order members had planned to search first upon getting inside, hoping to find some of the witches and wizards who had just ‘disappeared’.
With each progressive level of the manor, the total size of the floor became smaller, making the topmost floor - nothing but a basic attic - only about a quarter of the size of the basement. (They hadn’t expected to find much of anything in the attic; rumoured information had told the Order of the Phoenix that the small room was bare.) Floors Two and Three contained just what one would expect a home to have - bedrooms, offices, libraries, baths. Large staircases led to each floor, and numerous doors opened off of the long, wide corridors, revealing the contents of the many different rooms. (Searching these two floors had been the second most important thing that the Order members had planned on. It had been in these very offices and libraries that they’d hoped to uncover artefacts, plans, or anything of the inanimate nature.)
The ground floor, which was the second-largest level, contained the main, public, areas of the manor. A large dining room stood off to one side of the entrance hall, the extensive kitchen connected to it via another doorway, while the entryway led off on its opposite side to a grand living area, expensive and classy furniture sitting in front of large, stone fireplaces within. Further down the hall were a couple of other doors that led to the back gardens of the home.
It had been nearly three weeks that James and Sirius, being the leaders of the raid, had studied those maps. The spy had given Dumbledore the information at the end of January, and the Order had obtained the different layouts two days later from Ministry files. Blueprints of the structure, images of the surrounding grounds, every last bit of information that they had needed to plan this mission had been nearly memorised. Regardless of the fact that the maps were nearly a century old, having been drawn up shortly around the time of the manor’s construction, as far as the Order of the Phoenix was aware, the Death Eaters hadn’t changed much of the core layout of the home.
James’s thoughts soon drifted from studying the map; he already felt like he’d stared at it enough in the previous weeks. His mind was back on his friend, on what could have happened to him, on their conversation before the raid - and the epiphany of understanding he’d had in the kitchen before Lily and Remus had come back. Turning around, he searched out the other two to tell them.
James was never given the chance, though. No sooner had he opened his mouth to call Remus and Lily over to him did Dumbledore stand up, the action gathering all attention to the headmaster.
“James, Lily, Remus, Frank, Alice, and Dorcas,” he said, his blue eyes meeting the stares of each person as he spoke their name. “Are you ready?”
Finally, thought James, nodding his head along with the others. All six of them rose from their seats and approached Dumbledore.
“Everything is prepared, and you are all aware of the manor’s layouts.” More nodding. “There is no way to know if there are many - or any - Death Eaters left at the manor, so be cautious,” finished Dumbledore.
They all nodded once again and, together, reached out to grasp the object held in the headmaster’s hand: a decade-old copy of Quidditch Quarterly. Within a split second, the Portkey was activated, and all six had disappeared.
----
A parchment letter crumpled in his hand, Peter Pettigrew hurried through the long, white corridors of St. Mungo’s Hospital in a desperate search for Room 4815. The witch at the front had told him where to go, yet in just a few minutes, Peter realised he was hopelessly lost. He had never been very good with following directions - especially if they consisted of taking three different corridors, five left turns and six right ones, a lift to one floor and a set of stairs to another (since the lift on that particular level was currently malfunctioning), and a few more turns.
“And the room is right there at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”
He snorted as he remembered the witch’s words and looked around for any sign that would point him in the right direction. Or at least tell me where in the hell I am, he thought. But there was no such luck, and Peter continued his wandering.
Exhaustion threatened to overcome the young wizard, though he stubbornly pushed it aside. He had been tired when he’d arrived at the hotel in the States, after all, and international Apparition had only been bound to make matters worse. The time was quickly approaching three in the morning, and while Peter would have given anything to take a nice, long sleep in a warm bed, he’d had to come to the hospital.
If she was dying, he had to say goodbye.
The first time Peter had read the words written on the parchment square, he hadn’t been able to comprehend them. Surely they had not said what he thought they had. Surely, in his exhaustion, he had just misread the inked sentences. Surely he had been so tired that he’d fallen asleep upon picking up the letter, and it was just in his nightmares that he’d read it. He would wake up soon and read the real letter.
The letter that wouldn’t tell him that she was in the hospital, that she was dying.
Dear Peter,
I am sorry to have to share with you some tragic news.
Mary McAdams, who I know you were very close with, was discovered on the night of the 14th, just outside of Harwich. She was rushed to St. Mungo’s, but I’m afraid, Peter, that her injuries are too extensive for a full recovery. The Healers haven’t given her more than a few days, so it might be best if you can make it back to Britain soon.
Please, please forgive my blunt words, Peter, for I know that this is not the most compassionate of letters.
Signed,
Emmeline
Along with the letter had been a single owl feather - Dumbledore’s supply of a Portkey.
It was in a trance-like state that Peter scrunched up the parchment and picked up the feather, arriving instantly just outside of the front room of St. Mungo’s. It was under that same this-isn’t-happening belief that he’d approached the witch behind the desk and received directions.
And it was in that same wandering, lost way that he walked through long, white corridor after long, white corridor. White floors met white walls that attached to white ceilings, and Peter had the irrelevant thought go through his head that a little colour certainly couldn’t have hurt. But the thought didn’t remain very long. It couldn’t.
Especially not when he finally made it to Room 4815.
Peter paused outside of the wooden door, his eyes staring unseeingly at the bronze numbers in the centre of it. He had hurried and rushed to get here, had felt his heart pounding in fear when he’d read the letter … and now, he didn’t know if he wanted to go inside. Beyond that single obstacle was the woman he loved, the woman he’d dated for almost two years, the woman that he could have seen himself marrying someday.
And yet, none of those dreams would ever happen.
Because Mary was dying.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Peter hesitantly put a hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. A part of him still wanted to do nothing other than flee, to go back to the States for the night because this entire thing had been nothing but a horrible nightmare. He could still do that, he knew. The room within wasn’t lit very well; shadows covered everything and made the person in the bed hidden from his view in the doorway.
He would have to enter to see her.
Yet to see her was why he had come. He had Apparated across the ocean after being awake for nearly twenty-four hours to tell the woman he loved goodbye because she could not be healed.
So Peter took one step through the doorway, followed by another. Slowly but surely, the young wizard approached the bed upon which Mary McAdams lay dying, her injuries making her unrecognisable as the youthful, red-haired and freckled former Hufflepuff that she was.
And he said goodbye, paying no attention to the tears that dripped from his eyes.
----
The six members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived in the exact same spot that their compatriots had earlier in the night. Just on the edge of the forest and hidden from sight by anyone who may have been in the manor, James, Remus, Frank, Alice, Dorcas, and Lily withdrew their wands. The copy of Quidditch Quarterly was shoved into Frank’s pocket. Together, everyone crouched down where they were, their forms hidden behind bushes and trees. A dozen eyes stared out at the foreboding stone structure, its height towering towards the sky.
As the others watched the house, Lily muttered a quick incantation under her breath, her wand waving in an intricate, circular motion. She hoped the others were making sure no one would be attacking them in the next few minutes, for she knew she wouldn’t be in the best position to duel with anyone until the spell was finished. A lengthy spell, it took at least two minutes (though most uses required up to five) to complete, yet the old Tracking Charm would tell them if Sirius was still on the grounds.
Her actions drew the attention of Remus, who had been crouched the closest to her, and he nodded in understanding as he saw her eyes closed, mouth moving, and wand waving. At the others’ confused glances, he explained.
“Tracking Charm,” he whispered, receiving nods from the others as comprehension dawned. “It should tell us whether or not Sirius is still here - You have to be within a certain distance - one or two kilometres, I’m not sure - for it to work,” Remus finished, answering Dorcas’s question about why the charm wasn’t cast at headquarters before she could even ask it.
The minutes ticked by, each Order member waiting (not very) patiently for the charm to finish. Silence fell around them, the darkness cloaking them in the forest’s shadows, and a cool wind blew through the trees. A few shivered as the air hit them; regardless of the fact that it was fairly warm for mid-February, it was still winter.
“Finite,” muttered Lily, and she glanced up, meeting the gazes of the others. “The spell says that he’s here.”
“All right,” whispered James, nodding and breaking his gaze from the building in front of them to look back at the others. “It would probably be a better idea if we split up, each team taking a side of the manor.” Lifting his free hand, the Auror motioned in both directions, his actions emphasising his words. “We can meet up again at the north end.”
Lily had kept her stare intently on the manor itself after finishing the spell, her eyes taking it in stone by stone, scanning up the walls and peering through windows in the hopes of discovering if any shadowed forms of Death Eaters lurked within. No sounds could be heard coming from the manor, and everything seemed quiet and deserted, but as they all knew, it never paid to take chances.
“Frank, Dorcas, and I will take the east end,” said Alice, tracing the path out with her hand as James had. “And we’ll come around to the northwest corner of the manor.”
“Which leaves the three of us to come up the south side and follow around the western wall,” continued Remus. “Send a Patronus if you can, but if not … red for help, yellow if you find him.” Everyone knew that last part, of course. It was the standard colours that the Order always used on their missions.
“That work for everyone?” James’s question received several nods as a reply. “Okay then.”
“Let’s go.”
Lily didn’t notice four of the members of their group - the ones who had been in the initial raid on the manor - hesitate for the slightest moment as the bright witch unconsciously repeated Sirius's earlier words. As one, their group of six split off into two teams of three; Dorcas and the Longbottoms turned right to travel up the east wall, while the Potters and Remus started their cautious walk west.
Everything was silent, save for the normal sounds of nature that one would expect to hear in the late-night hours. Lily found herself in the middle of her group, Remus following behind her while James led the way. (Though all six of them had studied the maps and layouts, this was only Remus's and Lily’s first time being on the grounds.) The trio inched along the southern wall, trying their best to ignore the signs of the battle that had raged just over an hour ago.
The manor’s front bushes were singed or crushed - and sometimes both - from impacts with spells, rubble, or bodies. Debris from the entryway and front doors nearly covered the walkway, their broken stones scattered and creating dangerous ground for the rescue team to tread. A few puddles of blood could be seen as well, though none of the bodies that had fallen earlier had been left. The Death Eaters had apparently retrieved their own injured and dead, just as the Order had.
Slowly, trying not to make the slightest sound, James, Lily, and Remus crept further and further west. Their ears listened for anything - a whisper, a crunch of gravel, a creaking floorboard - and their eyes searched everywhere, trying to pierce the heavy darkness that hung over them, looking for the smallest sign of any Death Eaters. Brief observations from the forest hadn’t revealed anything, of course, but Lily knew that such information didn’t mean that there was no one present.
Death Eaters had a remarkable talent for blending into the shadows.
And all the while, their eyes were peeled for any sign of Sirius.
Finally, they made it to the western side of the manor. The entire trek across the front of the building had been completely uneventful. Not a single sign of Dark wizards had been seen or heard; the only evidence of their presence was the fact that a battle had taken place earlier that night. James came to a stop at the southwest corner, causing Lily to almost run into her husband.
“What is it?” muttered Remus, having also barely stopped himself from colliding with Lily. “Did you hear something?”
James shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anyone around, actually. No Death Eaters, at least.” His brow furrowed in confusion, and Lily felt the same way.
Something wasn’t right.
“Let’s just continue towards the others,” she whispered, stepping out of line to do just that. “And I think we can chance lighting our wands now.” The statement came out slightly hesitantly, but as she stared at Remus and James, she saw neither of them seemed to notice. “If anything, it should make our search go faster.”
All three of them simultaneously cast the spell, and three small lights suddenly shone along the manor’s grounds. Nature hadn’t provided them with much light to use in their search earlier, but they hadn’t really expected to discover Sirius on the south side. Had he been there, Lily knew, the rest of the Order would have seen him when they departed.
Together, James, Lily, and Remus turned the corner and started heading up the western wall, making their way north to meet the other team. No sparks had been fired by either Frank, Alice, or Dorcas, and while that had the fortunate meaning of them not running into any sort of trouble, it also meant that the west side of the manor was becoming their last chance to find Sirius on the grounds. For, surely, the other team was almost to the northwest corner.
Remus soon overtook Lily and went ahead to join James as each of them started searching at different paces. James was sending his wand’s light in sweeping motions across the lawn, barely staying in one spot very long, while Remus's actions were a bit slower, more thorough. Lily hung back, her wand’s motions in tiny, minute movements, almost like she was trying to scan each blade of grass in her search.
Dirt … rock … flower … wood fragment … With each step she took, Lily started to grow more worried. There were signs of a duel on this side of the house; the grass was flattened, spots of blood could be seen in the dirt, fragments of stone that had fallen when hit by stray spells crunched under her feet. But as she went further and further north, and the amount of space left to search diminished with each successive step, the worry grew.
There was no sign of Sirius.
A quick glance at James and Remus showed her that they had gone further west, leaving the outside wall of the manor and approaching the trees that wrapped along this side of the home. Faint, flickering lights in front of her also told Lily that the Longbottoms and Dorcas were finishing their search, coming around the corner … now.
“Did you find him?” asked Dorcas, both Longbottoms behind her. James and Remus were heading towards the group, having just seen their compatriots’ arrival.
Lily shook her head, sighing. “No, and we haven’t found anything that belongs to him, either; the Tracking Charm would have worked for either one. The only thing we know is that at least one duel took place on this side of the manor.” She waved her arm in a sweeping motion to cover said space, the beam of light from her Lumos flying over the grass … and glinting off of something in a shadowed niche in the manor’s wall.
The six Order members exchanged quick glances with each other before they all hurried towards that very spot. It had been so hidden in the shadows that neither Lily’s, James’s, nor Remus's search had revealed it; their wands had scanned nearly every area but that one. The wall had jutted outwards in just the right way to keep the small area - only half as wide as an average broom cupboard, really - completely cloaked in darkness.
Yet when they saw it, they knew.
Six beams of light shone on the objects. Quick breaths were inhaled and curses were muttered, (though Lily had no idea who had done which).
They had been too late.
A jewelled dagger was stabbed into a gap in the stone wall, the rubies decorating its hilt sparkling in the light from the wands pointing at it. The blade was clean, not a drop of blood marring its pure colour.
But the gold phoenix pendant that hung around the blade was not.
Dark red blood clung to the spread wings of the magical bird, the liquid occasionally dripping to the grass below. The pendant’s golden chain wasn’t clean, either, and the wands’ light revealed the spots of blood that dotted along it.
“It’s Sirius's,” muttered Remus, his voice quiet, hushed, like the words were being forced from him and he would have given anything not to be saying them. Like he was hoping that such was not the case, that this was simply a nightmare that every one of them would wake up to realise hadn’t occurred.
Lily understood the feeling.
There was no sign of the Dark Mark - not carved in the stone or engraved on the dagger, not drawn in the dirt or painted with blood (all of which had been seen by at least one of the six Order members present) - but the answer was obvious. They did not need to see the sign of the Dark Lord to know that Death Eaters had captured their friend.
“We should take these back to headquarters,” said Frank, the words also sounding forced from his mouth. “Any Tracing or Tracking spells won’t work from here; the Death Eaters were bound to have prevented it.”
Hesitantly, Lily reached out to remove the pendant, not realising her hand was shaking slightly as she grasped the gold metal. She tried not to think about the blood now spotting her palm as she removed the phoenix, tried not to focus on the fact that it was - more than likely - Sirius's own.
As she stepped back, moving away so that another could remove the dagger, the light from her wand shone directly on the blade, right at the top of the hilt, and revealed the small engraving that they’d missed at first glance.
The engraving was of a crest that every single one of them - even the Muggle-born Lily and half-blood Remus - knew upon sight. Regardless of its size here, there was no mistaking the intricate detail that told just which family this dagger belonged to. The scripted words that could now be seen faintly engraved below the image were not needed by any of them to know.
A crest from one of the oldest families in the Wizarding World wasn’t exactly unrecognisable.
“Shit.”
Silence came from most of the Order members, though a curse or two were definitely muttered by some. Lily didn’t spare a glance in her husband’s direction as the single curse turned into several, more profane mutterings. Normally, she would have told him to watch his language, but there wasn’t a single part of the red-haired witch that felt like doing so tonight.
Not when she felt the same way herself.
~*~
There you are, and sorry about the delay. The next chapter is with Nikki right now.
~Megan
Rating: PG-13 / R
Length: Chaptered, WIP
Pairings: James/Lily, Frank/Alice
Era: Marauder Era and Vold-War I
Summary: It is nearing three in the morning, and certain members of the Order of the Phoenix depart from headquarters, planning to return to the manor in hopes of finding Sirius.
Note: A thank you goes to love_rockerkid for beta-ing.
~*~
Chapter V: Searching
The sight that greeted James as he left the kitchen and entered the home’s main room gave the wizard on odd sense of déjà vu. Just hours ago, when the nine of them had been about to leave on the raid, the same scenes were being played out. Numerous scrolls and parchment notes covered the wooden tables, couples and trios of Order members pouring over them in study. Several maps were being levitated in the air, the images enlarged and zoomed in for everyone to see. Buzzing sounds of the many voices speaking reached his ears the moment that James opened the door.
“Ah, James, there you are.”
James looked up at the sound of his name being called, his hazel gaze meeting the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Heads of the many other gathered witches and wizards turned in the direction of the entering trio, but not a single one of them paid much attention to the sudden attention focussed on them. Remus, Lily, and James all crossed the room to stand next to Dumbledore, who was currently next to one of the levitating maps, examining the image carefully.
“When are we leaving?” asked James, for neither Lily nor Remus had given him an answer the first time he’d spoken the question.
The old wizard turned to face the young man, his eyes leaving the enlarged map. “Very soon, James,” he said. “Very soon.” Dumbledore’s attention, however, was soon diverted from the conversation as Frank Longbottom called to the headmaster. “Once everything is prepared, James, we will go,” Dumbledore whispered, before leaving the young wizard as he headed towards Alice, Dorcas, and Frank at the other end of the table.
Nodding, James directed his own attention to the surrounding maps as the headmaster left. The one in front of him - the same that Dumbledore had previously been examining - was just a basic layout of the grounds of the manor. Regardless of its enlarged size, the image was quite plain, holding very little detail. It extended as far as the outside of the surrounding forest, where the Order members had entered earlier in the night. The borders made up of the numerous trees circled along the outer edges of the map, a few faint dirt trails winding through the woods marked on the parchment. At the southern end stood the iron gates, drawn closed in the floating image, and the fence barriers stretched off of the map’s ends. The only representation of the manor itself was a simple, bare, flat drawing located near the centre of the floating parchment.
Another of the hanging maps held the layout of the manor’s actual interior - unless, of course, the Death Eaters had altered a great deal about it once they had begun using the grand structure. Rich with detail that the image of the grounds lacked, it was towards this image that James headed.
He and the others had studied this particular blueprint obsessively ever since it came into the Order’s possession, ever since they had decided that a raid on this manor was necessary. Studying the grounds had been important, but not as important as knowing where things were inside the manor. They had all known that their time inside the structure would have to be short, their movements quick and with little hesitation. Had everything gone as it had been planned, they would have met little resistance in accessing the manor, and gotten within fairly quickly. Yet, it wouldn’t have done for any of them to wander the corridors, getting turned around and lost, having to retreat before anything was accomplished.
James didn’t even think that such was what had happened anyway.
There were, in all, five levels to the manor, though only three main floors. The bottommost level - the largest of the house - consisted of areas that could only be described as being part-dungeon and part-basement. Several rooms could be found on one side of the lower level, being used either as storage or for other miscellaneous jobs, while two corridors on the opposite end held several magically-warded cells. The size of a standard cell in Azkaban, the stone rooms were complete with barred doors, the metal supposedly heated as an extra security measure against escape. It was these very cells that the Order members had planned to search first upon getting inside, hoping to find some of the witches and wizards who had just ‘disappeared’.
With each progressive level of the manor, the total size of the floor became smaller, making the topmost floor - nothing but a basic attic - only about a quarter of the size of the basement. (They hadn’t expected to find much of anything in the attic; rumoured information had told the Order of the Phoenix that the small room was bare.) Floors Two and Three contained just what one would expect a home to have - bedrooms, offices, libraries, baths. Large staircases led to each floor, and numerous doors opened off of the long, wide corridors, revealing the contents of the many different rooms. (Searching these two floors had been the second most important thing that the Order members had planned on. It had been in these very offices and libraries that they’d hoped to uncover artefacts, plans, or anything of the inanimate nature.)
The ground floor, which was the second-largest level, contained the main, public, areas of the manor. A large dining room stood off to one side of the entrance hall, the extensive kitchen connected to it via another doorway, while the entryway led off on its opposite side to a grand living area, expensive and classy furniture sitting in front of large, stone fireplaces within. Further down the hall were a couple of other doors that led to the back gardens of the home.
It had been nearly three weeks that James and Sirius, being the leaders of the raid, had studied those maps. The spy had given Dumbledore the information at the end of January, and the Order had obtained the different layouts two days later from Ministry files. Blueprints of the structure, images of the surrounding grounds, every last bit of information that they had needed to plan this mission had been nearly memorised. Regardless of the fact that the maps were nearly a century old, having been drawn up shortly around the time of the manor’s construction, as far as the Order of the Phoenix was aware, the Death Eaters hadn’t changed much of the core layout of the home.
James’s thoughts soon drifted from studying the map; he already felt like he’d stared at it enough in the previous weeks. His mind was back on his friend, on what could have happened to him, on their conversation before the raid - and the epiphany of understanding he’d had in the kitchen before Lily and Remus had come back. Turning around, he searched out the other two to tell them.
James was never given the chance, though. No sooner had he opened his mouth to call Remus and Lily over to him did Dumbledore stand up, the action gathering all attention to the headmaster.
“James, Lily, Remus, Frank, Alice, and Dorcas,” he said, his blue eyes meeting the stares of each person as he spoke their name. “Are you ready?”
Finally, thought James, nodding his head along with the others. All six of them rose from their seats and approached Dumbledore.
“Everything is prepared, and you are all aware of the manor’s layouts.” More nodding. “There is no way to know if there are many - or any - Death Eaters left at the manor, so be cautious,” finished Dumbledore.
They all nodded once again and, together, reached out to grasp the object held in the headmaster’s hand: a decade-old copy of Quidditch Quarterly. Within a split second, the Portkey was activated, and all six had disappeared.
----
A parchment letter crumpled in his hand, Peter Pettigrew hurried through the long, white corridors of St. Mungo’s Hospital in a desperate search for Room 4815. The witch at the front had told him where to go, yet in just a few minutes, Peter realised he was hopelessly lost. He had never been very good with following directions - especially if they consisted of taking three different corridors, five left turns and six right ones, a lift to one floor and a set of stairs to another (since the lift on that particular level was currently malfunctioning), and a few more turns.
“And the room is right there at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”
He snorted as he remembered the witch’s words and looked around for any sign that would point him in the right direction. Or at least tell me where in the hell I am, he thought. But there was no such luck, and Peter continued his wandering.
Exhaustion threatened to overcome the young wizard, though he stubbornly pushed it aside. He had been tired when he’d arrived at the hotel in the States, after all, and international Apparition had only been bound to make matters worse. The time was quickly approaching three in the morning, and while Peter would have given anything to take a nice, long sleep in a warm bed, he’d had to come to the hospital.
If she was dying, he had to say goodbye.
The first time Peter had read the words written on the parchment square, he hadn’t been able to comprehend them. Surely they had not said what he thought they had. Surely, in his exhaustion, he had just misread the inked sentences. Surely he had been so tired that he’d fallen asleep upon picking up the letter, and it was just in his nightmares that he’d read it. He would wake up soon and read the real letter.
The letter that wouldn’t tell him that she was in the hospital, that she was dying.
Dear Peter,
I am sorry to have to share with you some tragic news.
Mary McAdams, who I know you were very close with, was discovered on the night of the 14th, just outside of Harwich. She was rushed to St. Mungo’s, but I’m afraid, Peter, that her injuries are too extensive for a full recovery. The Healers haven’t given her more than a few days, so it might be best if you can make it back to Britain soon.
Please, please forgive my blunt words, Peter, for I know that this is not the most compassionate of letters.
Signed,
Emmeline
Along with the letter had been a single owl feather - Dumbledore’s supply of a Portkey.
It was in a trance-like state that Peter scrunched up the parchment and picked up the feather, arriving instantly just outside of the front room of St. Mungo’s. It was under that same this-isn’t-happening belief that he’d approached the witch behind the desk and received directions.
And it was in that same wandering, lost way that he walked through long, white corridor after long, white corridor. White floors met white walls that attached to white ceilings, and Peter had the irrelevant thought go through his head that a little colour certainly couldn’t have hurt. But the thought didn’t remain very long. It couldn’t.
Especially not when he finally made it to Room 4815.
Peter paused outside of the wooden door, his eyes staring unseeingly at the bronze numbers in the centre of it. He had hurried and rushed to get here, had felt his heart pounding in fear when he’d read the letter … and now, he didn’t know if he wanted to go inside. Beyond that single obstacle was the woman he loved, the woman he’d dated for almost two years, the woman that he could have seen himself marrying someday.
And yet, none of those dreams would ever happen.
Because Mary was dying.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Peter hesitantly put a hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. A part of him still wanted to do nothing other than flee, to go back to the States for the night because this entire thing had been nothing but a horrible nightmare. He could still do that, he knew. The room within wasn’t lit very well; shadows covered everything and made the person in the bed hidden from his view in the doorway.
He would have to enter to see her.
Yet to see her was why he had come. He had Apparated across the ocean after being awake for nearly twenty-four hours to tell the woman he loved goodbye because she could not be healed.
So Peter took one step through the doorway, followed by another. Slowly but surely, the young wizard approached the bed upon which Mary McAdams lay dying, her injuries making her unrecognisable as the youthful, red-haired and freckled former Hufflepuff that she was.
And he said goodbye, paying no attention to the tears that dripped from his eyes.
----
The six members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived in the exact same spot that their compatriots had earlier in the night. Just on the edge of the forest and hidden from sight by anyone who may have been in the manor, James, Remus, Frank, Alice, Dorcas, and Lily withdrew their wands. The copy of Quidditch Quarterly was shoved into Frank’s pocket. Together, everyone crouched down where they were, their forms hidden behind bushes and trees. A dozen eyes stared out at the foreboding stone structure, its height towering towards the sky.
As the others watched the house, Lily muttered a quick incantation under her breath, her wand waving in an intricate, circular motion. She hoped the others were making sure no one would be attacking them in the next few minutes, for she knew she wouldn’t be in the best position to duel with anyone until the spell was finished. A lengthy spell, it took at least two minutes (though most uses required up to five) to complete, yet the old Tracking Charm would tell them if Sirius was still on the grounds.
Her actions drew the attention of Remus, who had been crouched the closest to her, and he nodded in understanding as he saw her eyes closed, mouth moving, and wand waving. At the others’ confused glances, he explained.
“Tracking Charm,” he whispered, receiving nods from the others as comprehension dawned. “It should tell us whether or not Sirius is still here - You have to be within a certain distance - one or two kilometres, I’m not sure - for it to work,” Remus finished, answering Dorcas’s question about why the charm wasn’t cast at headquarters before she could even ask it.
The minutes ticked by, each Order member waiting (not very) patiently for the charm to finish. Silence fell around them, the darkness cloaking them in the forest’s shadows, and a cool wind blew through the trees. A few shivered as the air hit them; regardless of the fact that it was fairly warm for mid-February, it was still winter.
“Finite,” muttered Lily, and she glanced up, meeting the gazes of the others. “The spell says that he’s here.”
“All right,” whispered James, nodding and breaking his gaze from the building in front of them to look back at the others. “It would probably be a better idea if we split up, each team taking a side of the manor.” Lifting his free hand, the Auror motioned in both directions, his actions emphasising his words. “We can meet up again at the north end.”
Lily had kept her stare intently on the manor itself after finishing the spell, her eyes taking it in stone by stone, scanning up the walls and peering through windows in the hopes of discovering if any shadowed forms of Death Eaters lurked within. No sounds could be heard coming from the manor, and everything seemed quiet and deserted, but as they all knew, it never paid to take chances.
“Frank, Dorcas, and I will take the east end,” said Alice, tracing the path out with her hand as James had. “And we’ll come around to the northwest corner of the manor.”
“Which leaves the three of us to come up the south side and follow around the western wall,” continued Remus. “Send a Patronus if you can, but if not … red for help, yellow if you find him.” Everyone knew that last part, of course. It was the standard colours that the Order always used on their missions.
“That work for everyone?” James’s question received several nods as a reply. “Okay then.”
“Let’s go.”
Lily didn’t notice four of the members of their group - the ones who had been in the initial raid on the manor - hesitate for the slightest moment as the bright witch unconsciously repeated Sirius's earlier words. As one, their group of six split off into two teams of three; Dorcas and the Longbottoms turned right to travel up the east wall, while the Potters and Remus started their cautious walk west.
Everything was silent, save for the normal sounds of nature that one would expect to hear in the late-night hours. Lily found herself in the middle of her group, Remus following behind her while James led the way. (Though all six of them had studied the maps and layouts, this was only Remus's and Lily’s first time being on the grounds.) The trio inched along the southern wall, trying their best to ignore the signs of the battle that had raged just over an hour ago.
The manor’s front bushes were singed or crushed - and sometimes both - from impacts with spells, rubble, or bodies. Debris from the entryway and front doors nearly covered the walkway, their broken stones scattered and creating dangerous ground for the rescue team to tread. A few puddles of blood could be seen as well, though none of the bodies that had fallen earlier had been left. The Death Eaters had apparently retrieved their own injured and dead, just as the Order had.
Slowly, trying not to make the slightest sound, James, Lily, and Remus crept further and further west. Their ears listened for anything - a whisper, a crunch of gravel, a creaking floorboard - and their eyes searched everywhere, trying to pierce the heavy darkness that hung over them, looking for the smallest sign of any Death Eaters. Brief observations from the forest hadn’t revealed anything, of course, but Lily knew that such information didn’t mean that there was no one present.
Death Eaters had a remarkable talent for blending into the shadows.
And all the while, their eyes were peeled for any sign of Sirius.
Finally, they made it to the western side of the manor. The entire trek across the front of the building had been completely uneventful. Not a single sign of Dark wizards had been seen or heard; the only evidence of their presence was the fact that a battle had taken place earlier that night. James came to a stop at the southwest corner, causing Lily to almost run into her husband.
“What is it?” muttered Remus, having also barely stopped himself from colliding with Lily. “Did you hear something?”
James shook his head. “No,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anyone around, actually. No Death Eaters, at least.” His brow furrowed in confusion, and Lily felt the same way.
Something wasn’t right.
“Let’s just continue towards the others,” she whispered, stepping out of line to do just that. “And I think we can chance lighting our wands now.” The statement came out slightly hesitantly, but as she stared at Remus and James, she saw neither of them seemed to notice. “If anything, it should make our search go faster.”
All three of them simultaneously cast the spell, and three small lights suddenly shone along the manor’s grounds. Nature hadn’t provided them with much light to use in their search earlier, but they hadn’t really expected to discover Sirius on the south side. Had he been there, Lily knew, the rest of the Order would have seen him when they departed.
Together, James, Lily, and Remus turned the corner and started heading up the western wall, making their way north to meet the other team. No sparks had been fired by either Frank, Alice, or Dorcas, and while that had the fortunate meaning of them not running into any sort of trouble, it also meant that the west side of the manor was becoming their last chance to find Sirius on the grounds. For, surely, the other team was almost to the northwest corner.
Remus soon overtook Lily and went ahead to join James as each of them started searching at different paces. James was sending his wand’s light in sweeping motions across the lawn, barely staying in one spot very long, while Remus's actions were a bit slower, more thorough. Lily hung back, her wand’s motions in tiny, minute movements, almost like she was trying to scan each blade of grass in her search.
Dirt … rock … flower … wood fragment … With each step she took, Lily started to grow more worried. There were signs of a duel on this side of the house; the grass was flattened, spots of blood could be seen in the dirt, fragments of stone that had fallen when hit by stray spells crunched under her feet. But as she went further and further north, and the amount of space left to search diminished with each successive step, the worry grew.
There was no sign of Sirius.
A quick glance at James and Remus showed her that they had gone further west, leaving the outside wall of the manor and approaching the trees that wrapped along this side of the home. Faint, flickering lights in front of her also told Lily that the Longbottoms and Dorcas were finishing their search, coming around the corner … now.
“Did you find him?” asked Dorcas, both Longbottoms behind her. James and Remus were heading towards the group, having just seen their compatriots’ arrival.
Lily shook her head, sighing. “No, and we haven’t found anything that belongs to him, either; the Tracking Charm would have worked for either one. The only thing we know is that at least one duel took place on this side of the manor.” She waved her arm in a sweeping motion to cover said space, the beam of light from her Lumos flying over the grass … and glinting off of something in a shadowed niche in the manor’s wall.
The six Order members exchanged quick glances with each other before they all hurried towards that very spot. It had been so hidden in the shadows that neither Lily’s, James’s, nor Remus's search had revealed it; their wands had scanned nearly every area but that one. The wall had jutted outwards in just the right way to keep the small area - only half as wide as an average broom cupboard, really - completely cloaked in darkness.
Yet when they saw it, they knew.
Six beams of light shone on the objects. Quick breaths were inhaled and curses were muttered, (though Lily had no idea who had done which).
They had been too late.
A jewelled dagger was stabbed into a gap in the stone wall, the rubies decorating its hilt sparkling in the light from the wands pointing at it. The blade was clean, not a drop of blood marring its pure colour.
But the gold phoenix pendant that hung around the blade was not.
Dark red blood clung to the spread wings of the magical bird, the liquid occasionally dripping to the grass below. The pendant’s golden chain wasn’t clean, either, and the wands’ light revealed the spots of blood that dotted along it.
“It’s Sirius's,” muttered Remus, his voice quiet, hushed, like the words were being forced from him and he would have given anything not to be saying them. Like he was hoping that such was not the case, that this was simply a nightmare that every one of them would wake up to realise hadn’t occurred.
Lily understood the feeling.
There was no sign of the Dark Mark - not carved in the stone or engraved on the dagger, not drawn in the dirt or painted with blood (all of which had been seen by at least one of the six Order members present) - but the answer was obvious. They did not need to see the sign of the Dark Lord to know that Death Eaters had captured their friend.
“We should take these back to headquarters,” said Frank, the words also sounding forced from his mouth. “Any Tracing or Tracking spells won’t work from here; the Death Eaters were bound to have prevented it.”
Hesitantly, Lily reached out to remove the pendant, not realising her hand was shaking slightly as she grasped the gold metal. She tried not to think about the blood now spotting her palm as she removed the phoenix, tried not to focus on the fact that it was - more than likely - Sirius's own.
As she stepped back, moving away so that another could remove the dagger, the light from her wand shone directly on the blade, right at the top of the hilt, and revealed the small engraving that they’d missed at first glance.
The engraving was of a crest that every single one of them - even the Muggle-born Lily and half-blood Remus - knew upon sight. Regardless of its size here, there was no mistaking the intricate detail that told just which family this dagger belonged to. The scripted words that could now be seen faintly engraved below the image were not needed by any of them to know.
A crest from one of the oldest families in the Wizarding World wasn’t exactly unrecognisable.
“Shit.”
Silence came from most of the Order members, though a curse or two were definitely muttered by some. Lily didn’t spare a glance in her husband’s direction as the single curse turned into several, more profane mutterings. Normally, she would have told him to watch his language, but there wasn’t a single part of the red-haired witch that felt like doing so tonight.
Not when she felt the same way herself.
~*~
There you are, and sorry about the delay. The next chapter is with Nikki right now.
~Megan