Midnight Riser
It took a second, but eventually, Sirius’ eyes adjusted. Moments before he had been riding on the backs of mermaids with James, the two being dragged through the warm ocean currents. Now, he was faced with his dull gloomy ceiling with only a faint moonlight peaking through his currents.
He heard it again, the noise that had awoken him in the first place, trashing his body over to his other side he saw his phone shaking, face down, on his nightstand. “Who on God's green earth dares to ring me at,” He grumbled to himself checking his clock for the time as he grabbed his phone “Three o’clock in the morning, bloody hell”. Sirius looked down at his phone to see that ‘prongzzie pooo’ was the one who’d awoken him, oh James’ was going to regret this.
“James Fleamont Potter, if you need a ride home from the bar, you're just gonna have to get an Uber. I know you miss me but I am not your personal chauffeur” Sirius groaned into the phone, still processing the fact that he was no longer hanging out with his mermaid friends.
“Well, it's nice to meet you as well Mr.Black” a scratchy voice returned.
Sirius instantly shot up, who the fuck is this and why do they have James’ phone. Could James genuinely not last a single night out without him?
“Who the fuck are you?” Sirius continued before letting the stranger get a word in “Actually, ya know what? I don’t really care who you are, you’re gonna give my mate his phone back.”
“Oh well of course I’ll let you speak to Mr.Potter. That would only be fair” The mysterious voice returned with a bold condescension.
It clicked, it took a second, but it clicked in Sirius’ mind. This mystery phone snatcher knew James’ last name, which could make sense if they’d mugged him for his wallet, but how did they know he was ‘Mr.Black’? Sirius was almost certain his name in James’ phone was still ‘pads-ington’, how do you deduce Mr.Black from that?
Sirius heard low shuffling through the phone, the sounds of a lock turning, and then a heavy door clicking shut. Then there was James.
“SIRIUS DONT LISTEN TO THE-” James’ yelling came through, crystal clear but frantic.
“JAMES, JAMES” Sirius shouted back before hearing the same click of the door once again. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO JAMES,” Sirius bellowed as loud as he could into his phone.
Sirius heard two muffled chuckles in the background, like people grasping for air. Apparently for these delinquents hearing someone genuinely care about another person was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard in their lives. Now holding his breath, listening for as much as he could, he heard another sound from the back, this time a scoff. The scoff was, quieter, further away than the previous laughs.
Sirius tried his best to calm his heart rate enough to hear his own thoughts. Three people, three separate people had kidnapped James. The rage was pumping out of his chest, he couldn’t tell whether he was going to be sick or punch a hole straight through his door.
Information, evidence, and the goal, Sirius repeated the phrase back to himself. His family hadn’t taught him much but had certainly given him enough skills to prepare him to be around criminals.
“Information, evidence, and the goal, that is all you need to worry about Sirius” His father had said to him in his standard icy tone.
“Got it” Sirius grumbled back.
He pushed open a door, expecting to find the men holding guns, he instead saw one table that was dimly lit with a lively poker game in action. Sirius looked up at his father, hoping for some sort of signal that this was the wrong place. Instead, Orion gave a harder-than-necessary kick to the back of his knees.
Sirius found himself seated at the table, a hand with a 2 of diamonds and a 6 of clubs. He’d never played poker but was pretty sure his hand was shit. He kept his mind focused, information, evidence, and the goal. Through bits of side chatter, carefully metaphoric hints, and obscure pop culture references, he found information, evidence, and the goal. Sirius found himself leaving the building hours later knowing exactly what was expected of their family, and how he was going to get out of it.
Of course, growing up a part of the notorious Black family mafia had not necessarily prepared him for this side of the criminal world. Most of Sirius’ preparation had been about how to give these phone calls, not receive them.
“Well, what do you think of the offer Mr.Black?” the same voice cut through Sirius’ haze quickly.
“What offer?” Sirius was almost embarrassed of himself, but then again who calls at three in the morning expecting you to be fully present?
“This guy” The voice scoffed followed quickly with a chuckle “You tell him you're about to brutally murder his best mate and he is not even paying attention”.
“What. is. the. offer.” Sirius drawled out, speaking down to this mysterious person like he was disciplining a child. Whoever trained this guy on how to give a ransom call needed to be fired.
“500,000 quid, and then I’ll release your precious James Potter back into your loving arms. You’ve three weeks, or before preferably before, and I’m sure you know but, no cops, or I’ll kill him before they get here.”
“And just how exactly do you expect me to get 500,000 quid in three weeks, ya know usually when you make ransoms you try to make them realistic enough that you guys will actually get a payout”
“I will get my payout, Mr.Black, don’t let that concern you”.
Sirius almost laughed, it was quite comical really, the mysterious ransom person was so committed to playing the part of a lonesome kidnapper. He knew this phone call was most likely his only chance to gather information, he needed to drag it out as long as he could.
“If you want to convince me that you’re some lone wolf serial kidnapper you should tell your buddies in the back to shut up”
“hm, I guess your brains a peg above where I thought it was, regardless, we shall see you in no longer than 3 weeks”
“And how exactly am I supposed to find you?”
“And there we go, right back down to the peg I thought.” The voice gave a muffled chuckle that dripped off a smoker's lungs “How do you think we got Mr.Potter here? We have eyes, when we know you have the money we will find you.”
“Wha-” Sirius was cut off by the line quickly going dead.
Leave it to James Potter to ruin his weekend plans.
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The warm breeze of an early-summer night scraped the back of James’ neck as he closed and locked the door to his flat. He was on his way to meet Peter for drinks, he had tried his best to get Sirius to accompany them but Sirius was insistent on ‘having other plans’. Unless those other plans involved Sirius attempting to get into the pants of that bartender he’d been obsessed with for the last month, James was unsure what it could be.
Regardless of Sirius’ confusing relations, James continued his walk. He’d been told many times by Sirus and Peter that he took his walks like he was the clueless love interest of a rom-com, stopping to peek into windows of shops, smell the flowers, and glance up at the stars. He had never considered this a negative, if anything a loveable quirk about his slow-paced, going-with-the-flow energy.
James eventually reached the bar he and Peter agreed to meet at. He walked in and stuck his head around the corner into the general seating area, but Peter was nowhere to be found. James shot a quick text Peter’s way telling him he’d made it and to come meet him at their regular table when they got there.
“Hey, nice to see you again Rosie,” James said through a friendly smile to the bartender.
“No buddies with ya today James?” she replied.
“Ah, Pete’s probably just running a tad late, but he’s on his way”
“Usual pints for you two then?”
“That’d be wonderful, thank you Rosie” James affirmed before grabbing the pints and heading to a table in the back corner.
This table had been their table for as long as the three had been friends (and of age to be served). Rosie, the lovely bartender, after they had drunk her stock of whiskey dry on a particularly exciting night had taken to calling them a ‘group of marauders’. Sirius would always respond with “Three is just a trio of marauders Rosie, fours a group. Applications are open if you fancy joining”
James took his regular seat, twiddling his thumbs as the clock ticked. Intermittently he exchanged pleasantries with other pub regulars who had, in a way, become his friends as well over the years.
“No no, you two are not keeping me from anything, Peter’s just running late I guess,” James said, taking his eyes away from the Prewitt twins and looking at the untouched pint he’d saved for Peter. The Prewitt’s eventually moved on, scattering to other tables in the area and James reached back in his pocket for his phone.
“Hello, this is Peter… Peter Pettigrew. I um, can't make it right now. Leave a message for me.”
Peter’s voicemail burned into James’s ear, there was not a time in his life where James could remember Peter not picking up.
“Uh, hey wormy it prongs. I'm at the pub. I’ve been waiting for you for a half hour now, if you don’t come here or send me a text back in the next half I’m just gonna assume you're dead. Anyway, if you see this call me back, I won’t be mad if you need to cancel, I just wanna make sure you’re ok mate.”
James waited, checking his phone, his watch, and the clock on the wall, still after another half an hour not a word from Peter. James called again.
“Hello, this is Peter… Peter Pettigrew. I um, can't make it right now. Leave a message for me.”
“Listen Pete if this is like a joke or something you really oughta call me back in the next five minutes because I am currently paying my tab and then I’m walking straight to your flat to make sure you aren’t dead. Alright, love you mate. I’ll either see you or the cops soon I guess”
James generally found himself to be a calm and collected individual, tonight was not the case. As he made his way to Peter’s flat he found himself, much to the distaste of the general public he was passing, muttering under his breath. “Who the fuck does wormtail think he is, abandoning me like that,” James realized that this sounded harsh, considering one of his best mates could have been kidnapped or something. “Stupid prick better not have gotten himself in trouble”
James continued on his mission, hurdling up the stairs to Peter’s flat. His hands were shaking uncontrollably as he tried to fit his spare key into the lock. He cursed under his breath, then he heard something, scuffling behind him.
“You won’t be needing the keys there, pretty boy.”
James turned his head to see three men facing him, he stood frozen. It felt like hours passing as he stared into the eyes of the three in front of him, that was until he felt two hands pushing him against the wall. One of the men stepped forward, inching into James’ face. “Sleep well Potter” he said before shoving a rag against James’ mouth and nose.
James awoke later, he did not know how much later it was, sat on a chair in the middle of a brightly lit room. The room was mostly bare and a starkly shocking white, a small mattress lay tucked in the corner, and opposite a white plastic desk and chair. James blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the blinding light of the room, as his gaze trailed around he found the door, and the man sitting next to it.
It was one of the men who had ambushed him outside Peter’s apartment, he was skinny. He had long legs and had one tucked up to his chest with a book propped against his knee, he had light sandy brown hair that sat curled loosely and sat atop his head, and a scar running across his face from one side of his nose up to the other sides eyebrow. James looked him down, sizing him up, he wasn't necessarily a fighter but he felt confident he could take on this man. James looked around again, making sure he hadn’t missed any secret secondary defenders. When he was sure the coast was clear he looked back at the man, eyes still fixated on his book.
“You’re a shit gaurd ya know” James taunted.
“Really? And why’s that?” the man replied in an exasperated sigh, eyes never lifting from his text.
“Because of this” With that James propelled himself out of his chair, ready to sprint at the door and make his escape. Instead, he collapsed, the second his legs were meant to support his weight they buckled. James was now face down on the cool concrete floor.
“What did you do to me?” James called out, turning his head to the face man who had finally put his book down and was now cracking a smirk.
“Muscle relaxer,” He sighed “Boss told me you were supposed to be smart, you didn’t really think I was the muscle of this operation” the man chuckled while gesturing to his lanky frame.
“Well then who are you? Or what are you”
“I’m Loup, or eyes, whatever you’d like really,” the man said while holding his hand out for James to shake “oh right can’t use ya hands can you”
With that James heard the door click open, he looked up from his spot to see one of the others who had taken him looking down at him.
“Eye’s, you seriously couldn’t have gotten him back in the chair? Get up off your lazy arse” The second man said raising his voice
“Dragging this kid back onto the chair is above my pay grade Fluer” Loup yawned lazily.
The second man, Fluer, had left James’ line of sight until he felt two hands grabbing his hips and pulling him back onto the chair. The second man squatted down in front of him, hands on his knees, and stared him down.
“Listen here Potter, Tueur is about to come in here with your phone, on that phone will be your best mate, Sirius”
“You're just gonna let me talk to Sirius like that?” James responded wearily
“Yup, simple as that, you can tell him whatever you like, all we need from him is the money” Fluer stated, as if it were obvious to everyone, James included, why he was here.
Fluer had walked away from him, now scolding Loup in the corner for ‘slacking off’. James’ mind was racing, he heard stories from Sirius about his families, and by association, his, life of crime and it always seemed, well, more scary. Sirius had ran to James in the middle of the night, almost 10 years ago now, when he found out that he was expected to help his family with a kidnapping for ransom. Now that James had become the kidnappee he couldn’t say it felt all that awful, maybe that said something about his kidnappers?
James knew he had always been like this, always desperate to find the good in people. He never wanted to view anything as purely bad, he always wanted to know the intentions and the thoughts behind it. This didn’t mean he excused any of this, he was just sympathetic.
James looked up, hearing metal clanking at the door. The third man, who Fluer had referred to as Tueur, entered. True to Fleur's word, Tueur was holding his phone, pointing it at him. James hadn’t thought of what he was going to say to Sirius, he panicked staring at the phone, and yelled out.
“SIRIUS DONT LISTEN TO THEM” James screamed, he felt a hand wrapping around his mouth, now only seeing Tueur holding the phone and Loup still on the floor, he knew it was Fluer muffling him.
Tueur walked away briskly, closing the door behind him. Fleur let go of his grip around James and walked over to Loup offering him a hand up. Fluer started chuckling maniacally as James sat, still in shock. Fleur headed toward the door and Loup followed “You find way too much joy in this” Loup scoffed at the still-laughing Fleur. Fleur ignored him and walked out of the door, Loup followed before turning back. “Muscle relaxer should wear off in about half an hour, suggest you get some sleep after that… Cheers”. Before closing and locking the door.