Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter James Potter Ron Weasley Remus Lupin Sirius Black
Genres:
Action Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 02/26/2003
Updated: 11/13/2003
Words: 164,724
Chapters: 41
Hits: 101,291

Promises Unbroken

RobinLady

Story Summary:
Sirius Black remained the Secret Keeper and everything he feared came to pass. Ten years later, James and Lily live, Harry attends Hogwarts, and Voldemort remains…welcome to a darker world.

Chapter 16

Chapter Summary:
Sirius Black remained the Secret Keeper and everything he feared came to pass. Ten years later, James and Lily live, Harry attends Hogwarts, and Voldemort remains…welcome to a darker world where nothing is as it seems. {This Chapter: Midnight pranks, mistrust, and aftermath}
Posted:
05/17/2003
Hits:
2,087

Promises Unbroken

Chapter Sixteen: Never Say Die

Bill opened his eyes slowly, and then tried to remember if he had done so at all. Everything was dark. He blinked once, then twice, and finally his surroundings began to slide into focus. Vaguely, he could make out four walls, three of cold stone and one of bars. He blinked again, trying to recall where he was through the confusing haze of pain in the back of his skull. Images flashed through his mind too quickly for him to follow, and foolishly, Bill shook his head in an effort to clear it. Pain flared and his vision went black. Biting his tongue so hard that he tasted blood, he struggled to keep from crying out--and in doing so, came to remember where he was.

Azkaban.

Dual emotions rose within him. The first was inevitable, an Auror's natural reaction: despair and not a little bit of fear. The second, however, would have been foreign to his captors: triumph. He'd done it. He was in Azkaban, and he was still alive. Step one had been accomplished. Despite the situation, Bill smiled slightly. It was a crazy and risk-filled plan, but perhaps it would work. Maybe they had a chance after all. Sighing quietly to himself, he rolled to his knees. His head was still spinning, and now he knew why--but it was best not to think of that. The moments of memory were clear, now, and Bill completely understood why the Lestranges were so feared. He shook his head again, more carefully this time. They had wanted to know about the Order of the Phoenix, of course, but what he did not know, he could not tell. He was certain that that nightmarish session wouldn't been the last (how long had it been, anyway? It had felt like a lifetime), but for now, he would put it aside. He had a job to do.

Clambering to his feet, Bill shuffled to the front of his cell. A quick glance with eyes that were now well accustomed to the gloom let him estimate its size; he seemed to be in a standard sized Azkaban cell, which wasn't exactly spacious, but was no surprise, either. He wasn't particularly interested in his own surroundings, though. There were much more important things in Azkaban--more important people. Bill focused his attention outwards, squinting so that he could see down the passageway.

There wasn't much to see. The aisle was dark, but in the shadows, Bill could pick out several doors that seemed like his own, barred with reinforced steel--and hot to the touch, he quickly found out upon testing it. Magically reinforced, too, no doubt, which would certainly in part explain why no one had ever made it off the island. Fortunately, he had a way to get out of his cell--and he had a week in which to figure out how to use it. Or less, perhaps, if his interrogation session had lasted more than a day. In truth, Bill did not know, and he had no way to guess.

In the distance, he heard screaming.

Bill listened closely, but there were no audible words, only the faint sounds of a man in pain. He leaned forward, trying at the same time to avoid burning himself on the bars--

Coldness swept over him.

A black shadow drifted towards him, and he recoiled instinctively. Deep within the hood, Bill caught a glimpse of a gray face and sightless eyes--

Voices.

Coldness.

"Get down!"

"Run!"

Seventeen years old. The summer holiday. A Death Eater attack on the Burrow.

His father had nearly died that day.

Ginny was crying.

Coldness.

Rough, gray hands reaching for him.

"Go with your mother, Bill!"

"I'm not leaving you!" His father went down. "Dad!"

Cold hands on his arms. Bill heard screaming. Was it his own?

"Crucio!"

Pain.

He was screaming.

Coldness.

Pain.

"Bill!"

"Run!"

In reality, Aurors had come. In his nightmares, they never did. In his nightmares, the pain never ended... In his nightmares his family's lives came to a screeching halt. Bill didn't realize he was shaking as he relived the nightmare. He didn't know that he was screaming. He only knew cold, and despair--and fear.

When it ended, he lay shaking on the cold floor for he knew not how long. Slowly, he returned to consciousness, and became aware of his surroundings, but the coldness did not leave. Bill could not stop shaking.

In the distance, the screams continued.

------------

"Get down!"

The shout startled James into motion even as he stepped out of his office door. Green light flashed as he dove to the floor, and shouts rang loudly throughout the Auror Division's Headquarters, deep in the basement of the Ministry of Magic. Instinct took control, and the famous Auror rolled, crashing into an unyielding set of legs as he did so. With a yelp, Ernie Jordan fell on top of him, and James kept rolling madly, not knowing what he was escaping from, but realizing from the sudden volume in headquarters that it had to be bad. Finally free of Jordan, he reached inside his robes and whipped his wand out, twisting onto his stomach and preparing to leap to his feet.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light flashed from somewhere on his right.

As angry voices cried out curses, James rolled to his feet, tracking in on where his target would be. He didn't know how a Death Eater had gotten into Auror Headquarters, but at the moment, it didn't really matter--

"Impedimenta!" From his left.

"Texifomeus!" A cloud of smoke formed directly across from James, on the other side of the office. The curse had come from his right--

From within the cloud. "Avada--"

James' wand came up, and he aimed at the cloud, wishing that whoever had cast that spell had the sense to pick something other than the Smoke Screen Spell. "Glacialium!"

He missed, and knew it even as he spoke the word, but there was Ernie, flying in from the right and speaking at the same time.

"Stupefy!"

Thunk. Something fell to the ground from within the cloud, but the dozen Aurors in the room were taking on chances. Several other voices cast the stunning spell before anyone moved, but as the smoke began to dissipate, the shadowy figure inside the cloud remained still.

Finally, James took a moment to look around his headquarters. It looked as if a tornado had ripped through the main room at high speed. Papers were everywhere, there desks were overturned, and Ernie Jordan's prize plant was lying on its side by the front entrance. Every Auror in the room was on their feet, staring at the fading cloud of smoke with wands in hand, and a buzzing noise to his right told James that the Dark Detectors just inside the front doors were going mad. For a moment, there was utter silence, and then everyone began talking at once. But there was a hush to James' right, and he frowned up seeing the motionless form of Virginia Wilson. He'd noticed the green flash, and knew full well what it meant. Unlike many others, James did not head towards the body of his old friend. He already knew what he would find.

Instead, he stepped forward and waded grimly into the remaining smoke. His attacker--and James had little doubt that the wizard had been aiming for him--had landed face down on the floor, unconscious. Something about the man's white hair set off a warning bell in James' head, but he did not recognize the short cut as belonging to any Death Eater he knew. Frowning, James used his foot to flip the other over.

The hush became silence. All those who hadn't been looking at Virginia's still form had been watching him, and there was no mistaking the recognition. The unconscious wizard was Sam Ackerley.

One of their own.

------------

Arabella strode through the hallways of Hogwarts, feeling the young and eager eyes upon her. What were they thinking? Did they dream of future fame and glory, or think of the power to be gained in the world outside? Or did they remember the war's cost and mourn for those who had been lost along the way? Arabella Figg had never wanted to be famous, although she knew she was. She'd become somewhat of an icon throughout her work as an Auror and in the DMLE, first in cleaning up the leftovers of Grindelwald's supporters and then later in the war against Voldemort. She'd done her job with more skill and luck than most, though, and regretted it very rarely. Despite that, she hoped that the children watching her would remember the humanity behind the fame, and realize that once, she hadn't been much different than they were now.

She flashed a quick smile at two Ravenclaw girls; they looked to be about sixth year and reminded Arabella very strongly of her own past. It was strange how coming back to Hogwarts brought the memories back again. Her smile turned wistful. Things were simpler back then.

Reached a closed oak door, she shook herself free of the past and knocked. After a moment, a familiar voice told her to come in. Arabella did so, taking care to close the door behind herself before meeting the professor's gaze. When she finally did, Arabella noted the surprise in his eyes.

"'Bella," he greeted her warmly, offering first his hand and then a comfortable chair.

"Mundungus," she replied. To her knowledge, she was the only one who called him by his first name, now that his father was long dead. Even his mother had called him 'Dung.'

Something in her eyes must have given her away. "So what brings you to Hogwarts?" Fletcher asked warily. "Something tells me this isn't a social call, is it?"

"No, it's not," Arabella replied quietly. She'd intended to warm him up to the subject, but Mundungus' no nonsense attitude killed that idea. As he arched one blonde eyebrow (the left one, which was split by a small scar), she decided to get straight to the point. "I need you, Mundungus."

"Beg pardon?" He had the good grace to look surprised.

"You knew this would come," Arabella responded calmly, meeting his gaze. "And I don't mean right away. Finish the school term, first, but then we need you. The Aurors need you back, and soon. I'm sorry, because I know it's hard, but--"

"You have no idea," Mundungus cut her off in a gravely voice.

"No, I don't," she admitted, feeling a flash of pity for her old friend that she'd never show; Arabella knew it would only anger him. "I've never been where you have, and I can't imagine how it feels, but I do know where I am, and I'm struggling to keep our side alive in this war. James is, too, although he'd never say it to you--but he needs you. We all do."

"'Bella..." Fletcher trailed off in a low voice. "You don't know what you ask."

She hated to do this to him, especially so soon. Arabella kept her voice gentle. "Then tell me."

"I'll try," he sighed. "The thing is, I don't know if I could even be an Auror again. I've got the skills and the experience, still, but I don't have the mindset anymore. I can't keep that kind of calm now. I told you two years ago that I needed time, and I still do. I've got to find myself, because I lost something while in Voldemort's hands...something important.

"And I'm not sure if I'll ever get that back."

Arabella wished she could have said that his brutal honesty surprised her, but in truth, only his worlds did. Yes, Mundungus had been grimmer and more nervous since his capture, but... Could it really be so bad? She held her silence for several long moments, trying to sort her thoughts into a proper order. "Are you certain?"

"I wish I wasn't, but I am," her old friend replied. "I'm sorry, 'Bella. I really am. I just can't be what you need me to be right now."

"Remus said you handled yourself well against the giants." It was worth one last try.

"Of course I did. But I had a case of the shakes afterwards like you wouldn't believe...I haven't been that bad since I was a rookie, either. But those giants weren't Death Eaters, which made a difference. And they weren't Voldemort, either." Something strange lit off in his eyes, and Arabella knew he was telling the truth.

"All right, then," she replied quietly. "If you are ready--when you are ready--let me know."

He nodded gravely, and they both rose and shook hands. Why did it feel as if it was the last time? "I promise."

------------

They'd had to lock Sam into their most secure holding cell, which wasn't exactly long on creature comforts, but was warded extremely well. A room full of Aurors couldn't mistake what had happened to him, especially when, upon awakening, the veteran Auror had immediately lunged at his long time friend, James Potter. They had restrained him only with difficulty, for Sam had been nearly driven mad with the need to kill the senior Auror. Thus, for the last three hours, the assembled team of experts fought desperately to break through the layers of Imperius curses laid upon their friend and colleague.

James paced restlessly outside. He agreed with the assessment that his presence only made matters worse, but it was hard to wait. Even though he knew intellectually that such complicated work took time (especially with such an unwilling subject), he was ready to start bouncing off the walls. They could have called in a team of curse-breakers to deal with the problem, of course, but the head of the Auror Division had made the call. They would keep this one in-house. There was no need to let Rita Skeeter get a hold of this tragedy; within minutes it would be all over the headlines, if she had her way.

James frowned. He would have liked to ask Arabella for advice, but she was at Hogwarts, talking to Dung and then sharing lunch with her counterpart from the Dutch Ministry. His superior would be out of touch for hours, and he wouldn't interrupt her unless a true emergency dawned--which hadn't, quite. So he paced, wondering when the others would finally be done, and trying not to think about the funeral he had to arrange. God, this is going to kill Virginia's daughters, he couldn't help but think. Such nice girls, and the oldest is only a year out of Hogwarts. What am I supposed to tell them?

Well, you see, girls, your mother was killed by another Auror, only it wasn't his fault--

"James!"

He turned to face Francine Hoyt, who was far and away his best curse breaker. She was standing, drawn and pale, just inside the previously closed door that led to Holding Cell 2. Her eyes were tired and sad, but her smile was triumphant.

"We're done."

Three long strides carried him into the room, and Francine did not try to stop him. James' quick senses noticed three other Aurors leaning tiredly against the walls, and Sam, who was sitting in a single chair in the middle of the room with his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking, but he looked up as Francine touched his elbow gently. "James is here, Sam."

His old friend's brown eyes were bloodshot, and Sam suddenly looked twice his thirty-six years. Their gazes met for a moment, and then Sam looked away. James grabbed a nearby chair and dragged over to face his friend. He sat down while the other Auror made an intensive study of the floor.

"Sam?" A moment passed, and then two. "Sam?" There was still no answer, and James reached out to touch his friend's arm. "Sam? Talk to me."

Sam shook his head. "I'm so sorry, James," he mumbled, tears streaming down his face. "I didn't know--I didn't mean to..." He gulped. "I'm so sorry... I killed Virginia... I didn't mean..." He kept shaking his head.

"I know you didn't mean to, Sam," James said gently, choking back fury that wasn't aimed at his old friend. "But I need to know what happened. Who put you under the curse?"

"Mulciber," Sam gulped. "Two nights ago... Mulciber and Flint."

James winced. It was Monday, and Sam hadn't been on duty over the weekend. Then it was entirely possible that Voldemort's pet bounty hunters had two entire days to work on him, and break the Auror down until there was nothing left. He heard Francine's whispered curse behind him. He hated to ask. "What happened?"

The story came tumbling out with little more prompting, and James sat quietly through it all, listening as Sam described the horrors he had gone through for the past forty-eight hours. Mulciber and Flint had to work hard to break him, but in the end they had--few didn't break over time, and after what they had done to Sam, there was no wonder that he had. Enough pain would make a man do anything, and James only wished that he hadn't heard the same story before from a captured Auror. In recent memory, Mundungus Fletcher was the only one who hadn't broken under torture, and even Dung had come out of it with horrendous emotional scars.

In the end, Sam only been able to sob out that he was sorry, and James had wished that he could tell him everything would be all right. Unfortunately, he couldn't. One Auror was dead at another's hands, and the other had been broken. The Division was down by two, today, and they hadn't even taken any Death Eaters in payment for it.

------------

"Do you remember Julia Malfoy?"

Lily nodded slowly. "Vaguely. But I never knew her well."

"I did. Do. Whichever." Severus sighed and leaned his head back, resting it on the top of the Potter's sitting room couch and staring up at the ceiling. It didn't help, and he still felt Lily's unsettling green eyes upon him. While he hesitated, she spoke again.

"What does she have to do with anything?"

He sighed again. "Well, she's the problem I wanted to talk to you about."

"You're looking for advice on women?" Lily burst into laughter. "I should be the last person to ask about that!"

"You are a woman." Severus brought his head up and eyed her expectantly, trying to fight his growing irritation. It wasn't like he had any other female friends. Who was he supposed to ask--Hooch? That would work really well. Besides, he trusted Lily, even when she was being a pain.

She chuckled. "Last I checked, yes."

"Well, then tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do when Lucius Malfoy wants me to marry his sister," Severus snarled.

"Oh dear." Lily's expression quickly became more serious. "So this isn't your idea of a romance then, huh?"

"Hardly." He sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't know what to do, Lily. I have no desire to marry the woman--she's been one of my best friends for as long as I can remember!"

"There could be worse things than marrying a friend, Severus," Lily replied quietly.

"Not when the friend is a Death Eater, there isn't," he retorted. Like almost all of my old friends are.

"Oh my."

"Yeah." Severus sighed again. He'd known Julia since she was born--the Snapes and the Malfoys had been tied together for generations, and she wasn't even a full year younger than he. Their ages were much closer than his and Lucius', actually, and Severus had grown up almost thinking of Julia as his younger sister. Sure, she was smart, and she was pretty--although he valued the former more than the latter in a woman, anyway--and she was, overall, a very desirable woman who wielded a great deal of power. But she was Julia, and that only made matters worse. Not to mention the fact that she'd followed in her brother's footsteps and entered Voldemort's service two years after graduating Hogwarts.

1981 had been a bad year in a lot of ways.

"So this is Malfoy's idea, and not hers," she finally said.

"Undoubtedly. I haven't seen Julia in several years," he replied. "Last I heard, she was in South America, digging up some ancient Dark artifact for Voldemort."

"So why don't you just tell him no?" Lily wondered, and Severus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Lily was Muggle-born, after all, and there were plenty of purebloods who didn't understand the inner politics of the higher Wizarding families.

"It's not that simple," he explained patiently. "I am the last remaining member of one of the Fourteen Families, and I am thirty-two years old. I am also unmarried. Lucius knows this, and what's more, so does Voldemort. What makes matters worse is that Julia is thirty-one, and likewise free--and the Fourteen nearly always marry amongst their own."

Lily smiled slightly. "Unless they are Potters."

"Well, that entire line has always been a little off, if you know what I mean," Severus retorted lightly, letting his eyebrows rise purposefully. Lily laughed for a moment, but then her expression turned serious.

"You don't love her, then."

"Marrying her would be like marrying my sister, Lily."

"You don't have a sister," Lily pointed out.

"Trust me, this is bad enough," he replied, suppressing an inner shudder. He did miss Julia, but not like that. Not like that at all!

"So say no."

Severus rolled his eyes. Why did people always think things were so simple? "Easier said than done," he groused. "I need a legitimate reason, and thinking of her like a sister isn't one. Unfortunately, I ought to be highly complimented that Lucius would trust me with his sister, but I'm rather disgusted at the very thought."

"You talk about her like she's a piece of property," Lily remarked unhappily, frowning.

"As far as Death Eater politics go, she might as well be. Voldemort has, apparently, approved the match. Neither she nor I will have much say if he decides that we are getting married."

"Has he?"

"Not yet." Thankfully. He had a lot more important things to do with his life than get married. Besides, being a spy and marrying a Death Eater wouldn't exactly work well together, after all.

"So you're just dealing with Lucius right now," Lily said thoughtfully.

"Yes." The prat. Why is it that he manages to get involved in all the major decisions of my life? "And I can handle Lucius...I'm just trying to figure out how to do so politely. Without starting a blood feud."

"And you really don't want to get married to anyone at all," she replied lightly.

"No, I don't." He tried to ignore the teasing expression. He hadn't come here to get teased.

"Would it be so bad, Severus? You might find that you like marriage." Lily smiled. "And I've seen your quarters. They could use a woman's touch--"

"Yes, it would be that bad!" Angrily, he bit back his irritation. Lily was trying to help, and she was his friend. She deserved better than getting yelled at. He sighed. "Sorry."

She chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to you."

"Unfortunately," Severus replied dryly. "I'm sorry for that, too."

"I'm not." Lily reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find a way."

"I hope so."

"I know so," she said pointedly, but her green eyes were shining. He hated that optimistic smile. Somehow, it always meant that Lily was going to get her way...and Severus had a sudden feeling that reminding her of his unmarried status had been a very bad idea. "And I even know where to start."

"Where?" he asked cautiously. If Lily even thought about hooking him up with some friend of hers, he was going to--

She looked at him strangely. "By talking to her, of course."

"Oh, great," Severus mumbled.

"What?"

"I can only imagine how Julia is going to react to this," he replied. "If she doesn't Crucio me on the spot, it's going to make one hell of an interesting conversation."