Kidnapped

Chapter 1: Fading Lustre

"Good morning, James," Lily greeted sweetly as her husband, already in his dress robes, descended the stairs. She set the plate of bacon and eggs on the table beside the basket of raisin loaf she had baked the day before.

James glanced at himself in the mirror--Merlin, he looked like hell--and messed up his hair more in an effort to feel like his old self before turning to his wife. "Morning, Lil," he returned, his smile somewhat forced. Another day. Just another day of hunting down those damn Death Eaters. He took his seat on the table and sipped his coffee. What normally perked him up for the day suddenly tasted foul. Sighing wearily, he helped himself instead to a strip of bacon and quickly wolfed down a piece of scrambled egg. When did they start tasting like rubber? he thought, trying to push the mouthful down with a large swallow and a glass of water. It worked, to some extent. He began eating a little faster and was just finishing off his breakfast with the smallest slice of bread he could find when Lily sat down perpendicular to him.

"You're done already?" she asked, a worried look on her face.

James gulped down the last of his coffee, wiped his mouth and said, "Have to be at the Ministry in a few minutes, dear." He stood up and raced upstairs to their bathroom, presumably to brush his teeth, without another word.

Disappointed, Lily put her elbows on the table and stared morosely at the food she had worked so hard to prepare. She wondered what had come over her husband lately. A few months ago, before deciding on whether they should join the Order, they had talked about the possible consequences. Both of them knew it would mean having less time for each other and putting themselves in mortal danger, but she had never imagined it would put their marriage in jeopardy.

In the beginning, James had dealt with the pressure so admirably that she almost felt like they were still living a peaceful, normal life. He had always made sure he was home for dinner and had attended to her every whim, especially now that she was pregnant with their first child. Even after Dumbledore had approached them and had told them about the prophecy, James had remained composed and cheerful about life. If anything, it seemed like it had even strengthened his resolve to stay more often by her side.

That was until some couple of weeks ago. As abruptly as lightning would strike the sky, James had become preoccupied, staring off into the distance for several minutes with his eyes glazed, and had been somewhat impatient even with her. She had assumed it was just one of the pains of having too much to attend to, that he would soon get over it. She was wrong.

The heavy thud down the stairs reminded Lily that her husband was still at home. Quickly, she rearranged her features into an expectant smile just as James, clutching his impressive briefcase, headed for the living room--without sparing her a glance. Discouraged but not defeated, she rose and ran after him.

"Have a good day at work," Lily said, throwing her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his and kissed him lovingly, but instead of returning it passionately like he usually did, he remained unresponsive and simply waited until she had pulled away from him. The numbing cold seeped through Lily's bones as she looked up at him in disbelief.

James did not dare meet her eyes. "I'll see you later," he mumbled, reaching for the urn containing Floo powder. He stepped into their fireplace, threw the powder down and announced, "Ministry of Magic!" He dissolved into nothingness in the instant Lily blinked away the tears from her eyes.

Her lips trembling, she rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm herself and stumbled upon something hard and painfully cold.

It was her wedding ring. She held it up to the light to get a better look, expecting it to dazzle her once more with its brilliance.

Funny how its lustre seemed to have faded after only less than a year.

* * * * * * *

James strode through the halls of the first floor of the Ministry headquarters and made his way to the Auror Division. He had to talk to Alastor Moody immediately and tell him about the information he had recently procured regarding a future attack on Diagon Alley, but first he stopped by his cubicle and set his things on the table. A hearty laugh, followed by another, from the neighbouring office reached his ears and, for the first time this morning, his face broke into a smile. He retraced his steps out of his office and peered into the cubicle on his left.

"Good to see you again, Frank," James said as he entered, giving his fellow Auror a friendly handshake. He noted how happy he seemed to be. "Looking good, aren't we?"

Sirius Black jumped off from one of the cabinets on which he was perched on. "That was what I kept telling him," he said. "Gone for one week, took some time off and poof! He comes back looking like a new man!"

Frank Longbottom merely grinned at them. "Moody let me off easy," he explained, "when I asked for a break. Alice and I spent some quality time alone in a deserted paradise for our first anniversary." He winked roguishly at them and added, "Nothing like such to ease a man's troubles and satisfy his cravings."

The bespectacled man clenched his jaw and went rigid for a moment. He was pretty sure he knew where the conversation was going and that he wasn't going to like it one bit, hearing about how happy another's marriage was despite the dark times. It would start making him think about his own, and right now, he had better things to think about. He realised with a jolt that it had been so long since he had been--really been--with Lily. He didn't know why, but it was like he had come down with a virus that made him so irritable even towards his wife. Maybe it was because he had been under so much pressure lately, or because a lot going on in his life seemed to be already out of his control. If there was anything James Potter was famous for, it was control. Or perhaps it was even the fact that Lily had to ask him every now and then if everything had been fine at work. He appreciated her concern, but found the incessant questions annoying especially when all he wanted to do whenever he got home was to tuck himself in bed and sleep so he would be ready to fight another battle the next day.

"Earth to James?" Sirius prompted, waving his hand in his best friend's face. "Where have you been, fantasising about being on a paradise island with Lily?"

James frowned and pushed his glasses up his nose. It really wasn't any of Sirius' business. He decided not to answer that query. "I'll see you guys later at the meeting," he gritted out before turning on his heels to walk away. "I need to work." I need to work to get my mind off my problems. I need to work to make sure Lily and our baby is going to be safe. Why was everything so difficult these days?

Sirius stared in confusion at his retreating form. What had happened to the easygoing man he knew so well? Why was he suddenly cracking?

James was almost out the door when Frank called out, "Hey, James. I just wondered. Isn't your wedding anniversary with Lily just around the corner? Sixteenth of April, did I get it right?"

He halted and stood still, not daring to breathe. Sixteenth of April. The weather had been strange on that day he said his vows, drizzling even as the sun shone brightly from the heavens. He closed his eyes in reminiscence and controlled the urge to hex Frank senseless. How could I have not remembered? he berated himself.

"Yeah, you got it right," James answered roughly without turning around.

"Have you got something special planned yet?" Frank enquired interestedly.

Bloody moron. Who in his right mind would think of a vacation when Voldemort might be lurking around the corner? "Sure, but it's going to be a quiet celebration. No work leave needed," James lied bitingly, sarcasm edging his voice. Before any of the two men could ask any more questions, he exited the cubicle and entered his, slumping heavily on his seat. A vexing kind of panic started taking root inside him.

Sixteenth of April. Only four days from now, he thought, biting his lower lip worriedly. What am I going to do?