Charmed Curses

I was hoping on doing something different in this. I know that a few have been written already (of what, I'm not telling), but not like this, I assure you. Please, read and review, I very much appreciate what anyone has to say. Flames make me nervous, yes, but I suppose everyone had their own opinion. And positive reviews just make my day! (grins)

Quick Note: Though in some cases, in scenes throughout this fic, events seem to take longer than you would expect them to. But keep this in mind: Thoughts and events can happen in an instant, but there can still be great detail. "A single instant stretched on forever..."

Geuna~

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Curse

~~~~~~~~~~~

Halloween 1981

Lily looked up from her son to watch James return to the room. Minutes before he went to check on a sound in the back. She didn't like the dark frown on his face, the way his brow creased in frustration. "Was it...?"

"The Muggles next-door," he muttered, shaking his head. "Those silly people were just taking out the trash. A silly exercise..."

James smirked when he found himself on the receiving end of his wife's classic glare. Lily would always give him that looked when he mention "Mugglers". She never really liked the term. After all, she was half Muggle, but he just loved teasing her about it. Living in a Muggle neighborhood of all things became a rather tedious experience for someone from a Pureblood family, but it was the safest place to hide at the moment. But no matter how "hidden" they were, James couldn't help but feel on edge...

Lily's mouth slowly formed a slight frown of her own, her eyes moving to meet James'. "Where do you think he could be? I mean Peter..."

James didn't want to think on that, but the thought frightened him nonetheless. Peter... They had lost contact with him soon after Sirius had insisted they switch as Secret-Keeper. 'Wormtail, where are you...?' "I don't know. He should still be in hiding.... And that's exactly what he should be doing, they could track Owl Post if he..."

"Oh, rubbish," she snapped, looking to become more frustrated. "He's very well protected, and we're all here for him... Sirius was supposed to check on him for us, after all. See if he's okay." Lily sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "Maybe Sirius knows? Or Remus?"

"Sirius said he would stop by soon. He'll probably check on Remus because..." He trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

Lily's eyed him while James moved to sit next to her on the couch. She knew exactly what he was going to say. "Remus? Is he still suspicious?"

"Lily..."

"Why would Sirius have any doubts about Remus," Lily continued, undaunted, "he's been nothing but trustworthy for years!"

James pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose, adjusting his circular spectacles. They had discussed this before, but Lily still abhorred at the thought of mistrust between the four of them. Yes, Sirius did have doubts about Lupin. They had all suspected a traitor amongst them, and, well, Lupin being a werewolf... Sirius was one to mistrust easily, but certainly not with one of his friends, not some like Lupin. And the four of them were as close of friends you could get. In fact, the animosity between Lupin and Sirius was becoming practically tangible. James wished nothing more that to just talk to them both, to sort things out. To maybe even bring some Veritaserum (Truth Potion) into the matter. But that was all impossible at the moment. He couldn't leave or Apparate anywhere. It was too dangerous.

Harry suddenly made a small whimpering noise, causing his parents to look down at him. The child knew that something was wrong, his brilliant green eyes wide with worry. James smiled comfortingly, brushing his hand over Harry's little head, where a patch of ink black hair had already sprouted. Harry giggled in response to the contact, trying to grab at his father's hand. Lily smiled, shifting Harry gently into James' arms.

James held Harry carefully. He had discovered that holding a child was more of a skill than an act, and it took him a while to pick it up. Of course Lily could do it easily, it was maternal instinct, but when James first held Harry in his arms he couldn't help but worry that he'd accidentally break him. He was so small and delicate, like he were made of glass...

"Don't worry," James whispered, smiling as Harry studied his much larger hand with innocent yet profound curiosity. "You know your mum will protect you no matter what, right?" He looked up at Lily. A shadow of doubt hung over her lovely features, but her eyes were set and showed strength in more ways than one. "I want you to protect our son. I know you can. You're strong--stronger than me, stronger than anyone I've ever known. You always have been, Lily."

Lily's old bravery was slowly returning, her shoulders straightening. He saw his wife, a fellow Auror, as he had always known her. "James..." Lily leaned forward as if to kiss him, but a noise startled them both. James quickly passed Harry back to Lily and she protectively clutched him to her chest. James cautiously got to his feet and moved slowly toward the window, peering through the blue print curtains.

"James?" Lily had gotten up as well, moving toward him. "What is it?" She narrowed her eyes, looking past through the curtain. She saw nothing but inky blackness, but that was odd in itself. "Has the streetlight gone out...? ... James?"

"Lily, move to the kitchen." James had taken his ward from his back pocket, holding his other hand up toward Lily as if to signal her to halt. "Get your wand."

Lily's eyes widened, but she did as she was told, moving slowly over toward the kitchen door. She fumbled around for an instant, removing her wand from her pocket and clutching it in her hand. Lily's breathing was becoming very fast and ragged, her eyes darting from the window to her husband. "They can't... He couldn't have..."

James searched out through the darkness. "I don't..." A sudden movement, a tall hooded shape darting out of view. His eyes widened in horror as he spun away just as the window exploded. Lily cried out, doubling over to shield Harry from flying glass as James stumbled to his feet and reached Lily in a second. His face was cut, a stream of crimson running down from his brow.

Someone was outside.

Someone knew where they were!

"Move!" James shoved Lily forward, urging her through the doorway to the kitchen. He could hear movement outside now. The sound of a cloak bellowing in the wind. He was here already. There was no time... "Take Harry upstairs..."

A sound of an explosion could be heard. It had to be the front door. The house trembled and the lights flickered. Floorboards and crossbeams moaned from the force that hit it.

He was inside.

Voldemort.

He'd found them. ... Peter...?

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!!" He was practically throwing Lily forward, urging her to leave him. He knew that she didn't want to, that she wanted to try and help him. But they both knew there was nothing she could do other than protect their son. Harry had begun to cry, frightened by the loud noises.

Another explosion soon followed, and the kitchen door was destroyed. Debris flew about and James raised his arms as to protect himself. When it was safe to look up, James held up his wand, pointing it toward the demolished doorway. He knew Lily had gone upstairs, he could hear the footsteps pounding on the steps, the sound of his son's crying growing fainter.

'Live, both of you, please...'

Laughter. High-pitched laugher, he could hear it now, from just beyond the doorway. A cloud of dust had risen, impairing his vision beyond the doorway and causing film to accumulate on his glasses. It should have settled by now, but Voldemort probably did that to obstruct his sight. But his gaze and aim didn't waver, keeping his gaze sight on the doorway. Waiting for a movement of any kind. And... there!

"Stupefy," he bellowed.

The curse flew and hit... nothing. James dived for the tiled floor as a curse went flying past him. He knew there were more to come. James would be hit eventually, he knew. No one could face Voldemort alone like this. No one. He didn't have a chance, he accepted this, but he had to buy time for Lily. An idea struck his mind, and he pointed his wand at the kitchen table.

"Accio!"

The table began to float in the air, and then with a sudden motion, flew toward the doorway. Before the table could make contact with anything, it stopped. And came flying right back at him. He prepared to cast "Impedimenta", but had barely spit out the incantation when a shot of silver light darted through the cloud of dust, hitting his wand hand. James could do nothing but let himself fall to the floor, and with good purpose. The table sailing over his head, barely missing his skull.

His wand hand was injured, and his wand itself splinted into pieces, splinters of mahogany dangling from strings of the inner core. "Rictusempra." A simple "Rictusempra" Curse... The next thing he knew, a dark figure moved through the finally settling dust and--

"Crucio."

Pain.

Total, white hot pain.

James had experience the curse before, but none as powerful as this. The was pain, cast by someone more skilled in its use than any other. Fire. Ice. But it all burned. White spots began to fill his vision. He was going to snap, to go insane, he. couldn't. take. it...

Then it was gone.

He would've been relieved if it had been any other situation. James found that he couldn't move... His arms and legs wouldn't respond, like he'd forgotten how to work them. Then he realized he was screaming. Or at least he was trying to scream. His throat was tight, only allowing him to voice a strangled cry. That curse... it was so powerful...

James knew why that spell had been so strong. The Cruciatus Curse is fueled off the caster's hate... The hate Voldemort had for him... For his family. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest it was painful, and for a moment James wondered why it was still beating, why he was still alive. There was nothing but the distant sound of his son crying upstairs. The sound of footsteps coming closer. What seemed to be gravel crunching under someone's boot. A voice speaking to him.

"James Potter," a voice hissed.

He managed to focus his sight enough to take in a pair of crimson eyes and ink black hair. Those eyes glinting with evil and insanity. Something in those eyes made him feel a pang of fear, and he hated himself for feeling it. Those eyes made his blood freeze in his veins. His heart wanted to explode.

Voldemort spoke again, his tone suddenly very casual and quiet, but just as deadly. "You and your family have caused me a great deal of trouble in find you. I cannot... will not tolerate insolence, you see. Much less from a Muggle loving Auror." He said that last word with immense distaste... No, not distaste, that too weak a word. It was as if they were the most repulsive creatures imaginable. Someone that was unnatural. That should be destroyed. Hm, that probably exactly what he was thinking...

Then he smirked, chuckling lowly. His tone became very mocking as he said, "But luckily my servant was kind enough to reveal your whereabouts..." He laughed at this. His horrible laughter.

'Peter.'

The realization was like a heavy weight upon his chest. It was crushing him, he couldn't breath. James couldn't help but feel the worst hatred toward the man he thought was his friend.

Voldemort saw this and took pleasure in his suffering. James didn't want to give him that satisfaction and attempted to hide his rage. The Dark Lord should just kill him now and get it over with.

But Lily... He could still hear Harry crying upstairs...

"I know what you're thinking," Voldemort drawled. "No, I will not kill you, Mr. Potter."

This didn't register well with James, who gained a look of utter confusion. He tried to move again, which only resulted in more pain shooting through his body. With an effort, he managed to croak, "Why...?" He hated looking so weak in front of this man. He wanted to say his name, "Voldemort". To spit it in his hideously pale face. Show Voldemort that he really wasn't so afraid as to be forced to say "You-Know-Who". That he was no coward. He really wasn't afraid of dying, but his family was still in danger.

"There are things much worse than death, Mr. Potter. And I will show you one of them, if you like. I can tell you want to know." Voldemort had removed something from his robes. It looked like some sort of Time-Turner attached to a chain. "Even a charm can make the worst curses of all, did you know that, Mr. Potter?"

James hated the way this man... this thing said his name. Hated it. James had never experienced any feeling of hate like this. He hated Voldemort for doing this to him. Hated Peter for betraying him. Hated himself for being stupid enough not to see it coming... James was no longer aware of anything but the Dark Lord's bony hand clutching his hair in a tight, painful grip. His snake-like voice hissing vehemently in his ear.

"Have you ever wondered, Mr. Potter,

what it would be like if everything you ever loved dead?

Everything and everyone you couldn't protect, destroyed?

Where there is darkness in place of light?

And there is nothing you can do to stop it, because it has already come to pass?

Know this, and suffer James Potter. You will know this.

Your own living Hell, boy.

Knowing that you could have saved them by just giving in.

Because of your son...

Don't worry, no one will miss you.

No one will know you're gone."

Voldemort pointed his wand at one half of the kitchen table, muttering something. The piece of wood began to warp, changing shape. Soon, it had become a person. 'Me... It's me...' The table had been transfigured into himself. The form lay there, lifeless, its eyes starring blankly out at him.

"And by the way.

That sound you heard in the backyard?

That was me.

And your pretty little Mudblood wife isn't going anywhere, I assure you.

It will be so /good/ to meet young Harry..."

Laughter.

James couldn't respond if he wanted to. As he opened his mouth to scream, to warn Lily, to try something, /anything/, then Voldemort draped the chain over his neck.

James couldn't explain it then. A number of elements attacked his senses all at once.

Tears. He now felt them tailing along down his face.

Blood flowing down his head from where he'd hit the floor.

Colors spinning.

Everything going out of focus.

Pain.

Harry's cries.

Voldemort's laughter.

Lily screaming...

Pain...

Screaming...

/Screaming/......

No....

~~~~~~~~~~~

Halloween 1995

The Halloween feast at Hogwarts was well underway. The Great Hall was decorated as spectacularly as ever, with gold plates and live bats swooping down from the enchanted ceiling now and then. The ghosts were not missed, most of them attending Nearly Headless Nick's Death Day Party again (this /included/ Peeves, much to /many/ people's great joy.). This wasn't too much of a disappointment for more, considering how much trouble they would cause on a day like /this/. The Hogwarts ghosts had a habit of feeling very high and mighty on Halloween.

Ron grinned, surveying the layout of food before them hungrily(though he'd already filled and finished two plates). "What next!?"

Hermione, who was setting to his left, shot him a look and gave a noise of disgust. "Really, Ron. You shouldn't eat so much, you'll be sick before the night is done!" She was still on her first course, taking her time with her plate full of ham, corn, potatoes and various other vegetables.

"But you've barely /touched/ your food, and you don't know how much I can eat at once."

Harry, who was seated across from them, watched with plan amusement. "Yeah she does," he said quietly, trying to hide a smirk. "Remember earlier this year, third day...?"

Ron blushed. "That's different! I could've won a Galleon for that one! Can you imagine what I could get at Honeydukes with four hundred and some odd /Knuts/!?"

Hermione huffed. "Is /that/ why you listened to Fred when he told you to eat all that chocolate pudding? (Honestly, you should know better by now than to trust your own brothers...)"

"/Honestly/," Ron mocked weakly, "who could get tired of chocolate pudding, it's marvelous-..."

"/You/ certainly didn't find it marvelous by the fifth serving-..."

"/Anyway/," Ron interrupted loudly, smiling cheerfully. "I agree, I have eaten quite a bit more than usual..." Hermione and Harry gave him rather surprised looks, then he continued, "But that was the /meal/ portion! So, now on to dessert, shall I?" Ron spotted a tray full of fluffy looking cake cut into slices and reached out intently, only to have his hand smacked away. "Hermione," he whined, "what was that for!?"

"Really! Other people are going to be eating those, so at /least/ serve yourself the proper way!" She pointed at the said tool, a gold cake knife, which jutted out from the cake plainly.

Ron rolled his eyes but obeyed, filling his plate again before wolfing it down. Hermione made no further protests.

Harry, sitting to Ron's right, watched the scene with amusement, smiling as he took a gulp of pumpkin juice from his gold goblet. "I think 'Mione's right. You'll have to take a trip to Madam Pomfrey because it'll feel like... you..."

"Eh? Hey, Harry...?"

Harry couldn't hear Ron at the moment. He didn't know where it came from, but suddenly a wave of dizziness hit him. Unprepared, Harry swayed quite a bit, his goblet falling from his hand. He reached one hand to his head, which was spinning, and the other over his heart. There was an odd squeezing sensation in his chest that wasn't at all pleasant. Was he having a heart attack? But if that were true, would he feel dizzy? Feel a sudden chill? He really had no idea, but the thought of worrying about this didn't even register in his mind...

Harry was hardly aware of Ron, who had to grab his shoulders to keep him from toppling over to the side. Then all at once the dizziness, pressure, and whispers were gone, leaving him slightly dazed and rather confused.

"Harry!? Harry, are you okay!?"

"Ron, what happened?"

"I just looked weird and then..."

"Is it your scar?" This sentence was whispered lowly by Hermione.

Harry blinked a few times, straightening. "I'm fine..." A number of people had stopped to look at him, include many of his Gryffindor house mates. Dean, Seamus and Neville amongst them. They were voice their concerns along with Ron and Hermione.

"You alright, 'Arry," Ron replied, letting him go slowly.

Harry nodded absently, rubbing his hand over his heart as if he could still feel that sudden off pressure.

"Ron may be right," Hermione said quietly. "Even if it wasn't your-er..." She looked around and then whispered, "/scar/, it might mean something."

He felt extremely embarrassed and stupid that Hermione and Ron were making a deal of this. "Come off it," he insisted quietly. He glanced over to the teachers table, hoping that they hadn't noticed. Fortunately it seemed that Professor Dumbledore hadn't, nor had the other professors. On the other hand, it looked like rumor had already spread three tables over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was gazing over at him suspiciously (conspicuously inconspicuous, isn't he?). Harry groaned mentally at this. '/Just/ what I need...' "It was just a stupid little dizzy spell, nothing more." Heeh, tell that to the chill still running up his spine...

Ron gawked at this. "/Little/!?"

Hermione didn't look very convinced as she used her wand to clean up the mess Harry's fallen goblet had made. "The only other time I've seen you have a dizzy spell like /that/ was when a Dementor was present..."

Harry flinched slightly at the mention of Dementors. There couldn't be any around, could there...?

Ron saw his nervousness and was quick to change the subject. "Oi," he asked, "why /do/ they call it a "dizzy spell" anyway. Being dizzy doesn't have anything to do with magic, does it? Unless you count some sort of "Dizziness Curse"."

"Ron, I think that's hardly the point here..."

Harry wasn't listening to their conversation. He was still caught up in that strange feeling... Like de vu, maybe...?

Maybe...

~~~~~~~~~~~

James didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but when he awoke he felt like just slipping back into the darkness again.

But no, he couldn't. James could move again, he figured that out. After all, he was bending his arms now. It was still painful, yes, but he ignored that. For some reason he was laying on concrete, on his side. His glasses were badly damaged, but that was only half the problem because he couldn't bring his eyes to focus anyway. It was a moment before he really saw where he was.

In front of his home.

Destroyed.

Section of the building were caved in, and blackened as if burn by fire. A sign nailed onto the still standing wooden fence-gate indicated it was marked to be torn down. The street light illuminated the front, throwing shadows about and barely highlighting the dirty yellow police tape. All together the place he had once a home, a haven, was no more than an empty, blackened husk.

Was he... in the /future/?

Lily.

Harry...

James could still hear them both screaming in his head...

"They're gone..."

He curled up into a ball, burying his face in his hands. He had nowhere to go. For all he knew everyone he'd known was dead or submitted to Voldemort. How far in the future was he? Had the Muggles been killed?

These thoughts flitted through his head for only an instant before disappearing.

James just lay there in the darkness.

'Because of me... All because of me...'

Voldemort's words drifted carelessly through his mind.

"No," he whispered, his hands balling into fists. His wand hand ached, reminding him of how it was injured earlier. "Please, no..."

/"Know this, and suffer James Potter. You will know this.

Knowing that you could have saved them by just giving in."

"All my fault..."

He lay there in the dark and cried.