Levi had manged to slip out the back of the ice cream parlour with little trouble. Despite their seemingly overwhelming presence on the street the aurors were clearly stretched thin. He knew he should stay still and wait the situation out, but there was no way he was going to be able to do that when he had no clue if his friends were safe. Serena, Lexi, Molly, Colin, James, Chryson, Atalia... Making his way around to the storefront Levi followed the crowd towards the barricde. He tapped the shoulder of the nearest person. “Any news yet?”
As a newbie, Loraly had been assigned a station in one of the alleys just outside The White Wyvern. She was to lie in wait until she heard the signal and then close in along with the others to keep the attack deep within Knockturn Alley. The upper part of her face was painted with smears of black over her eyes while the lower half was hidden by a scarf, charmed to stay in place unless she pulled it down. The scarf was partly there to hide her identity, but also to make it harder for her to rely on her vampire instincts right away. She wanted to prove she could be useful with her magic as well as her vampire abilities. Hearing someone coming, she hurried to meet them, throwing up a temporary invisible block to keep them from running any further. “You really shouldn’t be down here if you want to avoid trouble.”
James ran forward, never daring to let his grip on his wand grow slack. It remained at his side- prepared at any moment to be lifted, spell blasting forward at impeding danger. Unfamiliar with Knockturn Alley, James felt like he was navigating a maze. Each turn, each building he passed, he could never be sure whether he was on his way out or burying himself deeper. He dashed past a dark alleyway, feet stomping on the cobblestone. A shot flew over his head, light a brilliant green. Without hesitation, James turned, pointing his wand into the dark and firing off a spell before hustling onward. His feet carried him fast, wanting to get somewhere, anywhere close to someone he knew. Something that might make sense of what was happening. The path he ran lead him towards a figure. He couldn’t make out her face, covered by a mask, but he noticed what looked like a pipe in her hand. Too large to be a wand.
The Rowle’s collected things so nobody else could have them. Like most purebloods of their kind, they liked to be special, different than the rest while somehow still superior. It was no surprise their family frequented Borgin and Burkes perhaps more than most. It was not just an antique shop, no, but one specializing in things unusual and ancient, like the families that bought from them. Freya’s red polished fingers glided over the dusty tops of the cases, looking for a gift worthy of her father’s birthday. It was no easy task trying to please her father when she had never managed it before. The charms on her bracelet knocked against each other as she moved, some of the pieces having coming from the shop itself.
“Mr. Borgin, could you pull these cuff-links for me?” Freya asked in her syrupy sweet voice as her eyes continued to shift over the treasures. As she heard a scuffling in the back, she chirped up once more. “Thank you kindly.” Stepping away from the case she gave a sigh, turning to look at the larger items. Cumbersome, her father would say. A flicker caught her attention then, prompting her to turn to the window, just catching a wizard run past. Arching her brow as a few more followed, the sound outside the shop seemed to pick up.
Stepping toward the door, Freya opened it sharply, a look coming over her face that was slightly inquisitive, possibly excited, or could be read as having no feelings at all. “What’s going on?” The question was directed at the closet person to her as her eyes scanned over Knockturn Alley which was beginning to liven up.
It was just supposed to be a simple run to the apothecary to get some ingredients for a potion he was interested in brewing, but he chose the wrong time and day to head to Knockturn Alley. At the first crack that sounded Julian foolishly mistook it for some fireworks going off, but soon a wave of people came crashing and bombarding him which set him off on alert. There was certainly an attack going on, but who could it be? Was it the Death Eaters again? He withdraws his wand to protect himself from someone, anyone that tries to come near him. Once he realized an opening he sure as hell seized it by ducking past some people and heading straight for a boarded up shop. It’s an ideal location to hide out since few to little people would think to search it, but Julian hopes that there would be some kind of exit that wouldn’t be sealed. Once inside the building he soon realizes he’s not alone and he quickly raises his wand towards the shadow moving towards him.
“I’m not looking for trouble, but if you try anything I will kill you.”
Just her luck, doing a little snooping around Knockturn Alley and that’s when an attack takes place. This time shouting that she was a pureblood wouldn’t save her, in face it would only get her hurt. Where was that Gryffindor courage? Iliana really needed to draw on it now rather than hiding as she was in a hidden alcove. Was anyone she knew out there? The only ones she could think might be here were her half siblings. She clutched her wand in her hand raising it as she heard a noise. “Whose there?” Her voice was a lot stronger than she felt right now as she tried to make out who it was.
Sweat lined his brow as his heartbeat thundered in his chest. James had stripped himself free of the chaos long enough to find refuge sandwiched between shops, his worn body pressed flush against the stone wall. Beyond that sanctuary the sounds of war continued to roar, never once seeming to quiet— not since the sound of the first bullet leaving the chamber of a gun. The battle came in magical blasts, in debris hailing, in the last breaths of the fallen. It was all noises he had grown accustomed to— since New Year's and Hogsmeade. They were noises James heard repeating when he closed his eyes at night. They had always sounded horrible before; today gave them a different light— frightening still, but frightening in a way that left James wanting to jump back into the midst of it all.
This time, he wanted to fight. And not just because he had to, spells whizzing past him and wizards with cruel faces wanting to watch him fall. Necessity was only part of the dark game. This was about more than staying alive; it was about finally putting action to his words and stepping up. The Blood Thieves needed numbers for their army. The Death Eaters needed people like him willing to put them in their place. His cousin— she needed him.
If what Ramona had said was right— that captives were being held somewhere in Knockturn Alley— then James had to do so much more than just aim his wand and fire back long enough to stay alive. He had to put it all on the line. And with a deep breath that filled his lungs with air, James pushed off the wall and drove himself towards the fight.
The moment he stepped out, he aimed his wand high towards the building before him. "Bombarda Maxima!" A white light shot free and in seconds the top of the shop exploded. A cloud of smoke cloaked the scene. A red flash went off on his right. A green behind him. Still his heart kept pounding, louder and louder with each commanding step forward. With each beat James heard a voice echo in his ear. 'Hold on.' Just like the words he breathed in desperate prayer. 'Hold on. I'm coming for you.' He promised Lucy that he'd come. Now that he was so close, there was no way he going to let her down. No more waiting.
The dust began to settle, vision clearer. In the blink of an eye, James came face to face with a Death Eater. It took only a second to register; his face had appeared in the pages of the Prophet, one among many come the news of the Azkaban escape. There was no question, no hesitation, just the firing of a spell. "Expelliarmus!" The pureblood was quick, trained well enough to dodge his attack with the simple wave of his wand. James moved to fire again— his instincts always fast and physical, taking the offense. It wasn't the smart thinking that he'd been encouraged to take but he was blind to logical thinking. He saw only a target to hit. That weakness left him vulnerable as the criminal cast his curse.
A red light. It took only one heartbeat for it to travel from the end of the wand to James' chest. It took less time for the pain to hit. Blinding pain— poetic enough to start at his shoulder before carving across his body, leaving not a single inch free of torture. His muscles strained. His body locked, the Dark Magic binding. Even the drawing of breath hurt, like a fist had grasped at his throat and squeezed tight. The strength and the menace behind the curse was formidable. The same could be said of the fight left in James.
He never gave in. He never stopped straining against the magic's hold. With each excruciating second, the muscles in his arms tightened, drawn tense under his skin. Each earned inch came with a grunt of pain that was desperate to escape louder, wanting screams that ripped at his throat and howled louder than the war that surrounded him.
The Death Eater advanced, never shifting his aim, only narrowing his eyes as he sought to bring the boy to his end. That glare was met with another. A battle of the strongest, of the one more deserving.
'Hold on.'
The words repeated just as they were needed. Hope and promise as ammunition, James gathered all of his might, shoving the reality of his pain aside long enough to raise his arm higher and higher, straining until his wand pointed forward. Then, teeth clenched, James cried out, "Expulso!"
James only registered the blue, not the power of his own spell that catapulted him off his feet. The other man disappeared, knocked back and lost as the war crowded in the distance between then. It wasn't until his back hit the ground, air knocked from him with a solitary gasp, that he realized his victory. The pain existed only in flickering waves. He was free.
Free.
Lucy.
Just as war wouldn't allow him hesitation, James wouldn't allow himself the same, unable to lose sight of what he needed to do. He scrambled to his feet, ignorant to the sounds of a gun in the distance. Lucy was in one of these buildings. No better place to start than what stood in front of him: Borgin and Burkes.
The door to the shop hung open. James had never stepped foot inside before then. The grimsley artifacts stood watch on the shelves, a few crashed against the floorboards which creaked beneath his feet with each move forward. The attack had already placed him on edge but the shop was no help, ominous on any day. Unfamiliar to the layout, he only knew to continue forward. His wand never lowered, his eyes forever scanning back and forth, his body on high alert. The deeper he went the more muffled the battle became. The blasts and the curses subsided to the stillness.
Then a whisper.
As silent as his weight could allow, James slowly crept onward. The whisper continued to come, unintelligible but loud enough to lead him towards the back of the shop where another door hung open. Steps led downward, the space lit by a far off flame. With a step closer, James took in more steps. With another he caught a glance at the bottom, only the dark ends of a wizard's robes visible. When the whisper came again, this time clear, James edged himself towards the door frame where he listened, crouched and out of sight.
"No, both of us are to stand guard. Those were the orders he gave us."
Another voice rose from the depths of the cellar, this one less gruff, more cutting. From the volume alone, her dominance was apparent. "I don't care what the orders were. Look at her— no use guarding a dead girl."
James felt his stomach hollow. His mind immediately shot towards his cousin and the worry that had drove him to this point suddenly intensified. As did his anger. But before his impulse could manifest, the sounds of someone stomping the steps had James darting back. Again, he found himself with his back pressed against the wall, encouraging his mammoth form to recede, unnoticed. When the witch appeared, by the grace of Godric she did not look back. James could only watch with bitten tongue as her dark robes and dark hair swept out of the shop, slamming the door to Borgin and Burkes behind her.
He exhaled in relief then shot his attention back towards the stairs. In the two seconds it took to move back between the threshold, James formulated his plan. Execution without hesitation. "Petrificus Totalus!" The man went stiff and James bolted into action. He took to the steps with no regard. His feet pounded against the dusty ground, a small cloud lifting with each impact. Once below, James knew exactly where to go.
A cell had been erected against the far wall. A body lay on the ground within, still. Too still. It wasn't until James came crashing forward, hands gripping around the bar and worried eyes peering in, that he knew.
Lucy Weasley lay crumpled and broken. Her body looked thin, smaller than James had ever remembered his little cousin being. There were scars— fresh and old— bruises and wounds. Upon reading the news, James had painfully pictured the worst. Seeing her now— seeing that stillness, it was worse than he ever could have imagined. She wasn't breathing. James couldn't see her breathing.
His fists tightened around the bars and he gave the cell a violent shake. "No!" The desperation strained his cry. "Fuck!" His anger jolted the bars, continuing to shake the metal— wanting it to break, wanting it to open, wanting his cousin not to be so still.
‘Hold on.’
‘Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.’
Anguish plagued his judgement. James continued to shove at the bars, harder and more distraught each time. Just like the punches he slammed against his bedroom wall, this tug and pull was his manifestation of grief. Only this loss was harder, amplified ten-fold. Because she was there in front of him, still and out-of-reach. He had promised her that he would come for her. She was supposed to be alive when he did.
Tears welled in his eyes. Just like his cousin, James was broken.
Just as the loss began to settle within him— his rage no longer jolting the cage, but his heartache leaving him slumped against it— there was just one stirring. A single movement that was all James needed to lift his head and his spirits. “Lucy?” Her name came quietly, a mere whisper as if he were afraid to speak too loud and miss a sign, any sign that he had been wrong. That she was still alive. That he hadn’t been too late. The need ached in his chest, the still seconds torture.
It took only the slightest raise of her chest, the intake of a breath. That was all James needed to shed the distress and fire back into action. With a step back, he poised his wand at the lock and fired a spell. “Bombarda!” The contained explosion burst the metal and swung the door open, giving James his opening to race through and fall to his knees at his cousin’s side.
Gently, James reached for her shoulders and gave her a light shake. “Lucy. Lucy, it’s me. It’s James.” Her breaths were few and quiet. “I’m here, okay. You’re going to be okay, I’ve got you. Just hold on, Lucy.” James gave her a comforting squeeze as he lingered, yearning for her to stir or to speak because even if her heart was still beating, faint as it was, there was no promise that she wouldn’t go still again. But she could give no other sign. “Hold on,” he uttered again, those two words becoming his mantra. Sure to be careful towards her injuries, James scooped her up, holding her in his arms. It worried him how light she was. “Hold on,” he repeated. “Hold on.”
Those two words and the cousin in his arms: that was all that James focused on as his feet carried him forward, flight path instinctual. Even as he made his way back out into the midst of the attack, no amount of curses cast his way could deter him. Nor could the twinge of pain digging at his shoulder, his injury flaring up and demanding to be felt. Forward. It was only forward.
It was only as they reached the top of Knockturn Alley, the barricade and the aurors visible just beyond reach, that James looked down at Lucy. As if she knew it too, her eyelids began to flutter, fighting to open just a crack. The smallest of signs, but to James spoke volumes. He could feel his heart swell and a layer of worry fall from his shoulders.
Running errands for her mother wasn’t exactly Avery’s favourite pass time, but given the alternative she’d take it any day. When her parents had learned she was at the Brighton’s house party, they’d been somewhat unhappy with her. Presumably because they hadn’t wanted her to be able to be linked with the kidnapping of Lucy Weasley - but that was hardly a reason to refuse to let her leave the house for over a week. Whatever panic they’d been in had faded, now, but she still needed a reason to be get out. If that meant venturing into Knockturn Alley and collecting some of her mother’s shopping, then it was better than being at home. First, though...well, no one would care if she visit Diagon Alley first, would they? The increasingly familiar sign of Fortescue’s was welcome, and she could only hope that Albus was working today, as she pushed open the door and stepped inside. It wasn’t like she’d had a chance to see him since the party. There was a lot they should probably talk about - like his sister knowing about whatever they were, and the fact that he’d punched Noah in front of everyone - but right now all that mattered was seeing him. All the rest could wait until later, when she had more time.
