Chapter 4
That first night, he had been too exhausted to really feel anything else. Though as he and Bastan returned to his home anticipation and fear registered somewhere in the back of his mind. What if they didn’t forgive him?
Enough time had passed that his stunning spells had faded, and he knew his friends were going to be pissed but he didn’t know what they would do after. He prayed that they understood and knew why he had done it.
Walking into his living room to a pacing Sirius and a gloom-looking Remus had been a relief and scary as hell. Remus had seen him first and the werewolf had looked so relieved before he stood up, crossed the room, and socked him right in the face.
James had stumbled back into Bastan, who did absolutely nothing to protect him. When he straightened up, he had enough common sense to duck when Sirius attempted to do the same. After a lot of shouting and cursing his friends, both hugged him and dragged him back into his living to find out what happened.
After he told his version of what had happened, Bastan filled him in on why he had been attempting to reach him. Turned out Dumbledore had been spotted near Hogsmeade with a few clocked followers and Voldemort had wanted Bastan and James to go see if they could see what he was doing and if James recognized any of the hidden figures. It wasn’t that the man couldn’t move around freely, it was just since the war stalled, he rarely left Hogwarts and when he did it was only for official reasons. So, him wandering around at night with some of his followers had raised some red flags.
When James hadn’t replied to either Bastan or the Dark Lord, Barty Crouch and Even Rosier had been sent instead. By the time they had arrived Dumbledore and his followers had been gone. A distraction, if James had to guess. With the Dark Lord and his followers looking one way, it gave whoever it was that performed the ritual time to make Lily and Harry disappear.
The months that followed were hell.
Sure, he was alive, and his best friends didn’t hold a grudge but there was no sign of Lily or Harry anywhere.
James drove himself near mad trying to find ways to find her and his son, despite the Dark Lord telling him to back off and let the Death Eaters he had assigned find them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the capabilities of the wizards the Dark Lord had picked to chase after Lily, it was that he felt he should have been able to find her. She had been his friend and then his wife, they had shared years together and he had thought they were soulmates, he should have been able to predict or at least guess Lily’s moves. Yet, he couldn’t. It hurt deep in his heart that he didn’t know her as well as he had thought.
He wasn’t stupid he knew she was being helped and that whoever it was was clearly more skilled than either of them, but still he felt like there should have been something, a sign, maybe that only he would notice. A naive hope that maybe she wanted him to be able to find them.
He knew the Dark Lord knew he was still searching, despite being told not to. Yet the man hadn’t called him out on it, so in James’s mind that was as close to permission as he was going to get, so he kept looking. Not that those closest to him didn’t try to stop him. Sirius, Remus, Bas, and Reggie had all told him he needed to stop, take a break, that he was running himself ragged. But he couldn’t.
Besides, it's not like he was sleeping when home anyway.
The house was too quiet without Harry running around playing, his bed empty without Lily. He caught a few hours on the couch from time to time when his body absolutely demanded it but mostly, he survived off coffee and pepper-up potions. Which meant his stock of potions was getting dangerously low, and sooner or later he was going to either make his own or bow down and beg Snape to make him some more, neither of which sounded fun. But at least if he asked the grumpy dungeon bat, the potions would be top notch. Anyways he was managing.
At least he had been until he basically collapsed when he and Bastan were chasing after a troublesome witch, who had been cursing muggles.
Waking up in a bed he didn’t recognize with Dark Lord glaring at him had been only slightly terrifying, surprising it was the pissed off looks on his best friend's faces that had scared him more. For some reason it was Sirius that spoke first, his best friend going off on him about how stupid he was being and that he needed to let them help. Remus hasn’t said much, just agreed with Sirius. The whole time his friend was raging, the Dark Lord stood in the back of the room watching them.
Something about it made his stomach twist and the hairs on the back of his neck stand, leaving him with the impression he wasn’t going to like whatever happened whenever the man chose to speak.
Which came sooner than he wanted. Eventually Siri wore himself out screaming and him and Remus left. The second the door closed James felt a ward lift and he jumped up in bed sitting up, to defend himself, maybe not that he stood a chance against the other man but still feeling as if he’d been locked in triggered his fight or flight and fleeing clearly wasn’t an option.
“You are too reckless,” his Lord said as he approached the bed.
“I didn’t do anything reckless.” His tone was defensive which resulted in a very unimpressed look from the other man.
“I believe I told you to leave the search to others.”
“I have to find the--” His mouth sealed shut against his will.
His eyes widened as the Dark Lord raised his hand, “No, I have to find them. You have to follow my orders.” He couldn’t stop the glare he aimed at the man. This was his wife, his son, he needed to be the one to find them.
His Lord signed, “Stubborn,” he muttered before heat surged through him. It wasn’t painful but it was warm, too much so, and he tried to twist in the bed away from the other man, yet something held him in place. Finally, the spell, for he had no doubt that was what it was, finished.
Sweating and feeling a little light-headed, he looked back at his Lord and tried to ask what the man had just done. His mouth was still forced closed, but it couldn’t have been hard to guess what he thought because the man spoke even without him asking.
“If you will not behave yourself, I'll do it for you.” Then he turned to leave, but before he left, he turned and looked back at him, “I can understand your desire and need to be the one to bring your son home, but I understand I will not have you damaging yourself or worse and leaving your child to be raised by another once I have found him." and then the man was gone.
It was only a week later when he was home and finally alone, that he learned just what the Dark Lord had done. He had tried another of a dozen spells he had written down to try and track Harry. Fire raised through his arm bringing him to his knees.
“Bastard,” he couldn’t help but curse under his breath when he could finally breathe again. It seemed his Lord was determined to make him listen this time and the spell had done something to his marks as that was what had burned when he had tried the spell.
He dropped down to sit and think. Cutting him off for being able to do spells was smart as that was his number one resource but he wouldn’t be James Potter if he didn’t excel at bending the rules or finding loopholes to get around someone's orders. He just needed to figure out the extent of this limitation and then he could get back to searching for his son.