Chapter 3
His heart pounded as Bastan walked him into the Dark Lord’s gathering room. A small part of him was grateful that besides the three of them, it was empty. Voldemort sat on his throne-like chair and James could feel the magic pouring off the man, though his arm did slowly stop burning the closer he got to the man.
“James,” the man’s voice was soft, and that was probably more terrifying than it would have been if he’d yelled. He'd seen the things the man could do when angry and calm, and it wasn’t pleasant. “Care to explain to me why you failed to respond when Rebastan tried to call you tonight? Or perhaps you would rather tell me why you failed to come when I called you?”
A tingling sensation shot through his arm and he wondered what the magic in the marks was doing.
“I wasn’t running,” he said, and the urge to say more swept over him. Realizing what was happening he bit down on his lip hard enough to taste blood in his mouth. Wide-eyed he stared at the Dark Lord, nowhere in their agreement or deal was he told the man could compel the truth from him. Though thinking about it, it made sense and he wished he had thought about it before.
The man’s head tilted to the side, studying him, and the urge to talk was getting stronger. James dug his teeth deeper into his lip and tried not to cringe at the feel of blood sliding down his chin.
The Dark Lord tsked before standing up, “Rebastan, Leave us.”
A weird wave of relief washed over him as his friend let go of him, bowed to the Dark Lord, and left.
Being alone with Voldemort was something James had never experienced before. There was always someone else with either him or the man himself. James held himself perfectly still as the man started walking towards him. The panicked reckless part of his brain wanted to shout at the man to just get it over with, to just end this miserable kaleidoscope of feelings he was suffering through because he was done. He was exhausted both physically and emotionally. And just fucking done.
But since his teeth were buried in his lip he didn’t, instead, he took in the man. The way he moved, smooth, unhurried, and with a grace of a being that knew it was the predator, the top of the food chain, and didn’t give a shit about others and their potential to harm him.
And if that wasn’t enough to warn people off, he was tall, handsome, charismatic with a smile that even Lily had confessed once could make someone weak in the knees pulled them in. The only sign that the man wasn’t in his public persona as he stopped in front of James were the eyes, bright red eyes, instead of the dark brown he usually showed.
James swallowed and regretted it as he swallowed a mouthful of blood. Truthfully as the man before him reached out and cupped his chin, James wasn’t sure he’d have been able to move even if he had wanted to. There was something about the man that just froze him in place.
He closed his eyes as the man’s thumb slid over his chin, smearing the blood from his lip.
“You want to tell me,” the Dark Lord whispered, “I can feel it. The battle going on inside you.” the man hummed and the hand on his chin disappeared, surprised James opened his eyes and watched as the man brought his thumb to his mouth and licked off the blood. His arm pulsed and James couldn’t help but gasp and stumble a little as the feeling rushed through him.
As the Dark Lord chucked, James found his footing and fought against the glare he wanted to give the man, because what the fuck was that?!?
“Shall I ask again?” the man asked, stepping closer. James couldn’t help it, not even with the man’s aura pulling him in, he stumbled back a step. The Dark Lord’s arm shot out and grabbed his shoulder holding him in place, “James, what were you doing tonight?”
“Looking--” It hurt to stop like it actually hurt as if something was digging into his very soul but he managed to cut himself off. The effort it took not to keep talking made it hard to catch his breath, and he started to panic.
He hadn’t been worried about the Dark Lord reading his mind, his mother was a Black after all, and had demanded he learn to protect his mind at a young age. So keeping Lily’s secret and hoping to protect Harry one last time hadn’t seemed impossible before. Even if he died here tonight, he would have done his best to keep them safe. But this, whatever the hell it was, it was going to tear the truth from him. He could feel it.
“Looking for?” the man asked, and James' vision went white from pain as he fought against the mark on his arm.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he heard the Dark Lord whisper as his legs gave out and he fell against the man’s chest. “You need to stop fighting, it will only get worse.” that was not comforting, James thought, no matter how softly the man said it.
“Lily, she-- she-- please” he begged as he found it impossible to stop the words again. “Please, please, I just want to protect Harry,” he found himself able to say.
“Your son,” the man hummed, “your child should be safe--” There was a pause as the man seemed lost in thought. James tried to pull himself away from the man’s body, “Stay.” The order hit him hard and the small bit of strength he had left vanished and suddenly Voldemort was supporting his entire weight.
Abruptly a hand settled on the top of his head, and slowly fingers started moving through his hair. It should not have been soothing, but it and the weird tingling coming for his mark had James relaxing against the man even though he was shouting at himself not it.
“I think I understand,” the man said after a couple of very long minutes. James prayed he didn’t.
“Your wife has run off hasn’t she,” James wasn’t sure if that was a rhetorical question or not, not that he could answer either way, “And I can assume from your panic and the desperation I felt through your mark, she took the boy.” James couldn’t stop the sob, not this time. He had tried so hard to do the right thing and fight to protect them and it had been useless.
“Shhh,” The man soothed him again, and this time James took it. He had no idea why the man hadn’t just killed him or what game he was playing with this strangely intimate gesture but it felt real and at this moment James needed something to keep him from slipping off to oblivion.
For some reason, the man held him long enough for him to tire himself out from crying and then he was released. The Dark Lord helped him sit before moving away from him and returning to his seat. Leaving James confused as hell.
“Rebastan!” The man called out and a second later his friend walked back into the room, and James swore there was a relieved look sent his way before Bastan bowed to the Dark Lord.
“What did you find in the room you found James in?”
The bag that had been packed inside the ritual room was pulled out and James watched as Rebastan floated everything out and placed it on the floor, in the same places it had been before sans the copper circle.
Once that was done, the Dark Lord moved around the room taking in the circle and the items, asking if Rebastan had noticed anything else, which set the two into a conversation about runes. All the while James sat there on the floor, his arms still tied behind his back, wondering what the fuck?
“Clever,” the man said after what felt like forever. Then with a wave of his hand, the items returned to Bastan’s bag and the bag itself landed in Voldemort’s hand.
“How did you find them? From what I have heard your wife was top of her class in charms and remarkably well-versed in Runes, I doubt she would have run and not cloaked herself. Yet, you managed to track her down, at least until whoever she was with essentially wiped her and your son's magical trace from existence.”
“She what?” He and Bas asked at the same time.
“The ritual will make it difficult to find them. Not impossible, but difficult. If she wasn’t hiding from me, I’d be impressed.” The man admitted before he turned his attention back to James, “How did you get that close?”
James didn’t even need the mark to push him to tell the man, it was pointless not to just tell him. So he told him about the potion and the little tracker bug that had taken him to the shop.
“I would like to read that book,” the man said before approaching James and kneeling down before him, “Despite your wife’s actions, you kept your word. I told you the day we met and agreed to this that I value loyalty and those who stand by their word. You have done that. So, James Potter, despite your belief otherwise, I am not going to kill you, nor do I wish to kill your son. I gave you my word that as long as you held to your vow, he had until his 17th birthday to make his own choice. And I will keep that promise.” For the first in since he found his house empty, James felt like he could breathe, “thank you.” he whispered.
“I must ask, however, are you still mine?” the man asked, holding James' gaze as the word sunk in. He was asking if James was going to stay, wasn’t he? Not just at home but here, working for him, as one of his followers.
“What about Lily?” He asked.
“I will assign a team to look for her with the express order that your son is not to be harmed. That is all I will guarantee.” James nodded, that was better than he had hoped.
“Then I am still yours,” he said. It felt different than when he made that vow 5 years ago. That had been made out of pure desperation to protect his child. This, this felt like he was actually agreeing to follow the man. James wasn’t too sure how he felt about that but he’d worry about it later.
Right now, he wanted to go home and try and salvage his friendships with his best friends.