his last breath
His father left the house at exactly seven in the morning- the same time he left every day because he had a set schedule and gods forbid he ever strayed from it. Only then did Barty leave his room but he still kept his steps light and breaths quiet. He avoided every creaky step on the stairs and every odd tile out of place having memorised the manor’s entire layout before he could even spell his own name.
He took special care to avoid the house elves that roamed around the place at random intervals. The elves were nice enough but the whole lot of them spilled their guts the minute his father came over and asked them a single question. A question about the time could turn into them telling him that Barty was in fact the one to break the expensive vase downstairs or that he hadn’t done any of his school work so he didn’t much trust them with this venture of all things.
The wood floor was cold beneath his bare feet and he wrapped his thick blue cloak tighter around himself, sticking to the shadows rather than walking under the watery morning light filtering in through the windows.
He managed to make a quick escape through a side door and walked a little ways away down the street before raising his wand to call up the Knight Bus.
It came, loud and messily as ever, to a screeching stop beside him and a man inside with overly large glasses and a great white beard ushered him in with a shout. He had no uniform or identifying features that differentiated him as the actual driver but his urgency was enough to convince him to board.
“Sit down and hold onto anything you want to keep on ya!” he yelled over his shoulder after Barty told him where he wanted to go and the bus lurched, shooting through the streets like they were the only ones on the road. The force threw Barty into the closest seat- a chair that looked more like one that belonged at a dinner table instead of a bus. Nonetheless, he clung to it, his knuckles turning white and his stomach fell through his arse when he realised the chair slid along with every move the bus made.
He really needed to learn how to apparate.
“Would you like some tea sir?” the man turned fully around to ask that now and Barty wanted to cry because he was the only one looking at the bloody road.
“NO!” he shouted back.
“Can you believe it? The boy doesn’t want any tea ,” the man spoke incredulously to a skull head hanging off the rearview mirror- It looked like a decomposing pumpkin.
“Why I’ve never heard of that, we’ve got the best tea around,” it grumbled. The man hmphed in agreement and opened a compartment by his feet. He pulled out a large thermos and, using his knee to continue steering the wheel, started to pour a healthy amount into a teacup held in his other hand.
“I’d like a cup please!” an older man shouted. He hadn’t even realised there was anyone else in the bus but sure enough, there was a man sprawled out across three chairs in the back as though he were lounging on a beach and not in a death trap.
Barty stared wide-eyed as the bus driver threw the entire thermos to the back and the man surprisingly caught it and began pouring himself a cup. Half of the drink ended up in his lap but he managed to catch a few drops in his cup and he seemed pretty content with that as he slurped it and looked out the window.
Barty just shut his eyes and hoped that when he opened them again, he’d still be alive.
And as it turns out, somehow, he’d made it alive though he was sure his heart and intestines were left somewhere on the side of the motorway. When he walked off the bus, he was unused to how still it was and swayed a bit, hanging onto the poles and chairs to support him.
He was halfway out the door when the driver shut the doors and zoomed off, leaving him to trip a bit. He shook his head and straightened his cloak, trying to look as dignified as possible as he entered Diagon Alley.
It was a lovely summer day around him and he smiled at old women and children alike though there was one particularly gargoyle-esque woman that frowned back at him making her already wrinkly face even more so. He frowned right back before continuing.
A kindly man offered him free candy which he ate eagerly before he slowed to a stop. There were a few Aurors around though most of them didn’t seem to be doing their job as they were enjoying the fruits of this area just as much as he so he only took a cursory glance around before he spun on his feet and slowly backed into Knockturn Alley.
The temperature felt like it had dropped by ten degrees and the overcrowded slanted buildings served to block out the sun effectively casting everything in shades of grey and black. There were a few rickety streetlights but they were incredibly weak and ineffective against the oppressive darkness that permeated the space. He kept his back straight and gait casual but he was extremely uncomfortable as he overheard shady dealings in corners and walked past some very suspicious looking people. Bugs scurried by his feet and he took great care to avoid the many random puddles of liquid on the pathway.
“Give us a smile won’t you?” a man leered at him from an alleyway and Barty ignored him, only sparing a look over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t following him.
He thought he had missed his target until he saw a small wooden sign poking out from above the shop front- ‘Augury & Alchemy.’ The sign was in tatters with a chunk of wood missing from the bottom and the font faded but it was there nonetheless so Barty inhaled one quick breath before pulling the door open with a ding.
He was assaulted by a sharp odour not helped by the dim lights inside. By the entrance, there was a counter but no one sat behind it and there were odd people milling about and despite everything telling him to leave, he pushed forward.
He picked up a basket and slung it over his arm, mindlessly putting random Potions ingredients into it from fairy wings all the way to snail slime. He was intrigued by the sheer volume of supplies but didn’t think too far into how the owners actually obtained some of this stuff.
He stayed far away from the illegal ingredients this shop was known and heralded for. It was well known among certain groups that if one wanted to make darker and more dangerous potions, this was the sort of place that could supply you with the ingredients to do so and so they received quite a bit of traffic in Knockturn. The Ministry knew about it but turned a blind eye to it and in return, they stayed quiet- kept all their dealings private, didn’t cause trouble, and would sell ingredients to those in the Ministry at a cheaper price- only to Unspeakables and Potions Masters of course .
Snape was eyeing a shelf in the far back corner and Barty slowly made his way over before casually asking, “Would you recommend Mandrake leaves or dragon scales for a draught of flame?” He remembered that potion from a book he had read in one of Regulus’ many stacks and knew that it caused the drinker to feel as if they were being lit on fire from within- it was exactly the sort of Potion one would come into this shop for.
“Well the dragon scales-” he started to reply in his usual nasally voice but stopped short when he turned to see him.
Snape and he have no love for eachother nor did they share any sort of feelings for eachother beyond mutual disdain but Barty needed him and so, he vowed to be as nice as humanly possible to him.
“Snape, almost didn’t recognise you there,” he smiled tightly as he looked down at him, extending a hand.
His black hair still fell into a sheet around his face, grazing his stiff shoulders, and his face seemed to have matured five years when it had only been a few weeks since they last saw each other. His occasional sneer seemed to have become permanent as he had deep lines down the sides of his mouth and his face looked thin and gaunt. His black eyes were still the most shocking thing about him making Barty want to look away.
He only stared down at it before snapping his gaze back up to his face “What are you doing here Crouch?”
“Why, buying some potions ingredients of course, what about you?” he asked, peering over to look into his basket. He had a couple innocuous items but when he saw things like poisons and blood, he leaned right back.
“No, why are you here? I bet your father wouldn’t be too happy if he found out.”
He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and focused all his energy into not punching Snape so hard that his crooked nose would turn straight again, “Yes well, the other Potions shop didn’t have what I wanted and as a matter of fact, I actually wanted to talk to you .” It had only taken him forever to finally figure out how he could actually find and run into Snape. He was a slimy prick he was happy to never see again but he had a love for Potions and since it was early in the month, he had relied on blind faith that he’d be here and was glad that his theory had panned out.
“And why’s that?” His thick brows were furrowed and his pale skin stuck out starkly the rest of his features that he appeared almost green in the low light.
“As it appears, I believe you’re in bed with someone I’m rather interested in getting to know and I want you to help me.”
He remembered when he had approached Snape months ago , asking him everything he knew about Voldemort and while he remained understandably tight-lipped, Snape couldn’t help but brag a bit and he had actually been making good progress but Evan caught him and lost his head and ruined his chance. However, things had changed since then and he refused to take any chances or wait any longer now.
In response to his grin, Snape only frowned further but he hadn’t left- that was all Barty needed.
__________
“What the hell is wrong with you !” Regulus shouted loud enough that the frames on the wall shook, or maybe that was a bit of accidental magic on display. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t care to find out as he was much more interested in pummeling Barty’s face in for his idiocy.
“Can we just- like- stop for one gods damned second,” Barty huffed annoyedly, running an injured hand through his already rumpled hair.
“You don’t get to act like we’re the irrational ones here, you-” Evan shouted from his spot at the window, apparently done with dissociating from the fight at hand.
“I understand what I did and I know I’m not some victim, but I’ve been telling you from the start, that I was in this with you both ,” he was out of breath from exertion but Regulus was just so frustrated with him. He knew Barty was impulsive and fiercely loyal but even he couldn’t imagine that he could’ve gone and done this without telling any of them.
He watched mutely as Evan and him continued to bicker. As Barty gesticulated, the mark danced widely on his forearm, his sleeve still pushed up from when he revealed it to him and Regulus just wanted to go over and wipe it off, for Barty to turn around and say that this was a prank, and they could all move on, but that clearly wasn’t the case.
“What future?” he guffawed once Regulus tuned back in, having missed some crucial part of the argument, “This is about as good a shot as I’m going to get on making it out of there. And I don’t know if you’ve been paying any attention but Voldemort’s winning and it would do us all well to just join him and live .”
“But the things he makes you do- you’re not-,” Evan stuttered and stumbled over his words and it allotted Barty the perfect opportunity to jump back in and cut him off.
“Evan,” Barty nearly screeched, saying his name like he was stupid, “We are not saints or angels . Sometimes we need to grow the fuck up and do what’s best for us . And this is what’s best, I’m so fucking tired of you two acting like this is some great burden and how our souls are damned and all that other bullshite. Get over yourselves. If you two were so scared then why didn’t you do something about it then?
“You,” he gestured to Evan, “Could’ve left home, could’ve left all this behind, we both could’ve moved out or gone to the muggle world, you know I would’ve come with you, but you didn’t.” He whirled then, “And you Regulus. Well,” he laughed ruefully, “You’ve been given more chances than any of us haven’t you? Sirius left and you refused to go with him. James offered you a home and you declined. You could’ve run away and none of them would’ve even gone looking for you and yet you stayed, why? Because you ‘had to do it.’
Each word Barty said about him hit with such precision Regulus wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor under the weight of his own embarrassment.
“And why did I do it? Maybe because I just want to stick it to my dad, be with my friends, and fucking live . So we all made our own choices and honestly, I probably would’ve gotten it without you both so get over it and be done with all this guilt-tripping and dramatics because I’m tired of it.”
The only thing left in his wake was resounding silence. It was so quiet Regulus could hear the elves walking around upstairs and his own heart beating perilously in his chest.
He sighed deeply and moved to the bar cart, refilling his glass cup with more amber liquid and drinking it all in one go, “And I couldn’t tell you because the both of you were gone the entire summer and it’s not like I knew I was going to get the mark that day. He was on some rampage and he just gave it to me and I sure as hell wasn’t going to refuse him.”
He thought when Barty asked to meet under guise of a glamoured letter, that they would simply catch up and Regulus happily called him over to Grimmauld but now he understood Barty’s true motives and quite frankly, Regulus didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. He had tried with himself and failed, tried with Evan and failed, and well, Barty walked right into this one himself.
Sitting back down, he crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle over his knee, and dropped his head into his hand, rubbing at his temples. He just wanted one day of peace before school started up again in less than five day’s time and it was clear he would not be given that.
“Reg, are you hearing this!” Evan squawked at him and he just tiredly looked up,
“Just give it up Ev. Please,” he sighed. “It’s done so there is literally no point in arguing about it any more.”
“This is just such fucking bullshite,” he sat back down as well and Kreacher thought it time to slowly inch into the room with a tea tray in his hands. He was a firm believer that any differences could be solved over a cup of tea- stupid. Once he left though, Regulus poured a healthy amount of Ogden’s into the cup and only then was it potable. Then, “Why was he on a rampage?”
Barty rolled his dark eyes and rubbed at his neck as he stretched it, revealing a large spider tattoo that had somehow found its way onto his collar, “I don’t know- Lucius handed him something- it looked like a newspaper and he was furious, I mean he started yelling at everyone there and I thought I might’ve been able to leave but he saw me and boom. He went on this whole rant about me being Crouch’s kid and gave me the mark.”
That sounded uncharacteristically impulsive for the dark Lord but everyone's antsiness and excitement to do something might’ve been rubbing off on him. He started getting nervous because while having an evil tyrant trying to take over the Wizarding world was bad, having an angry evil tyrant was definitely not good.
“Okay now can we move on , can we talk about that fucking snake now? It’s huge, I mean I’ve seen a lot of…” he went on and on about the lovely Nagini while Regulus held a moment of tense eye contact with Evan before he took another sip of his tea and wondered about the year to come.
__________
“Hi…” James smiled at them all as they stared back, astonished.
“There’s no way,” Dorcas spoke first, “Is Marlene with you?”
“No, only Sirius and Lily today,” he replied sympathetically.
Regulus was dumbfounded. He openly stared at James who wore his uniform much more properly than Sirius did. His maroon robes were snug and crisp, emphasising his broad shoulders and slim waist, and the pins on his lapels gleamed. His trousers were fit and his long boots highlighted his calves in a way that was truly abhorrent.
He felt dumb and childish in his school uniform with James across from him in his Auror robes. They only had a year difference between them but their difference in uniform made it seem like five, at least that’s what it would have been in the real world had James gone through the Academy and training.
“Right well…we’re just going to go see what Xeno’s up to,” Pandora chirped, standing up and not so subtly tugging Dorcas and Barty up with her. Evan wordlessly stepped out right behind them and with one last suggestive look over his shoulder, he slammed the door shut.
In the span of a single second, James whipped around and tugged the down over the shades over the window in the door shut and spun them around so he had Regulus cornered up against the door.
“I’ve missed you,” James panted against his neck, his leg immediately going between Regulus’ and his hands braced by his shoulders. He pressed one soft kiss over his pulse point and Regulus knew James’ must’ve felt how hard his heart was beating right now.
He gained his bearings quickly and to alleviate the pain of the door handle digging into his back, he lifted his hips to meet James’ and wound his arms around his neck to pull him in closer, “How much time do you have?”
“Seven, maybe ten minutes max,” he huffed, his hands quickly slipping his tie undone and unbuttoning the small buttons on his shirt.
“Is that enough time?” Regulus asked breathlessly, his nails lightly scratching against James’ scalp and his stomach flipped at the groan James let out.
In his haste to unbutton his shirt, his fingers kept slipping and Regulus just waved a hand and his shirt was undone, his patience wearing thin and the time constraint looming over him.
James' mouth turned up in an astonished smirk and he immediately dove for his trousers, pulling his belt free from the loops on his waistband and tossing them aside. He turned Regulus around, his hands never leaving his body, and he pressed kisses to the nape of his neck,
“I love you, talking in the mirror…it’s not enough,” he whispered, his breath dancing across his skin and sending shivers down his spine. It was all too true- he and James spoke as often as they could through the mirror but it wasn’t enough to satiate his building hunger for him.
Regulus nodded, unable to respond, “I love you James, I-,” a moan replaced what he was going to say as James pulled his pants down agonisingly slowly, his fingers burning all the way down his legs.
“Shh, be quiet for me love,” James whispered before he pulled his own belt loose and freed himself from the many layers separating them. His hand wound around to Regulus’ front as he pushed in from behind and Regulus tried his best to keep from falling apart.
__________
“Just feel a bit used is all,” Regulus huffed, crossing his arms over his front.
“No,” James groaned, dropping his head onto his shoulder, his wild hair tickling Regulus’ cheek, “I wish I could stay longer. I only took this post because I knew I’d be able to see you, besides that it’s so boring, we were waiting at the checkpoint for like five hours.”
“I’m happy you did, just wish you told me,” he admonished.
“Yeah but that would’ve ruined the surprise wouldn’t it?” he grinned.
Regulus was about to speak but the door was pulled open and Lily stuck her head in, “James, I- oh!,” she finished, her mouth stuck in a small ‘o’ as she looked between them.
James scrambled up from the bench, “Lily! This is-.”
“She knows who I am, you dolt,” Regulus pushed, his usual sneer easily sliding over his features in front of James’ friends. It was honestly getting hard keeping track of who knew and who didn’t but he was fairly sure she was unawares.
“I owe Mary five pounds,” she smiled as her eyes widened and realisation washed over her.
“I- no it’s just- we,” James stuttered and stumbled over his words.
“Did you two-?” she whispered, looking around the carriage with wide eyes as though there was evidence splattered across the walls, “Because it smells like-.”
“Oh my gods,” Regulus cringed, turning away from the both of them.
“Shut the door Lily ,” James ordered hastily.
“You’re both prudes, you have two minutes before we have to go,” she laughed before shutting the door.
“That was so embarrassing, I think I have to kill myself,” Regulus muttered.
“I’d have to disagree with that,” James smiled, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug, “When’s your first match?”
“Three weeks,” he replied.
“Then I’ll see you in three weeks,” he kissed the top of his forehead before stepping back.
Regulus didn’t want to let him go but he knew he had to, as he always did so they interlocked their fingers once more, letting the connection linger in the air for a moment longer before the distance between them was too great and their hands slipped.
James pulled and let the shades roll up before he stepped out of the door. He looked at Regulus through the glass window and the glare disrupted the view of his eyes from under his own glasses. As Regulus watched him, he felt his heart slow and fingers curl. He didn’t feel right letting James go, he wanted to hide him somewhere, burn those robes and let him blend in with a crowd of people, but he just turned left and disappeared from his view thereafter.
He was quiet the rest of the train ride, ignoring all the lighthearted jabs and teases thrown his way by his friends. He wondered if letting James go would ever get any easier.
__________
James felt alright leaving Regulus behind- of course he didn’t want to but Hogwarts was as safe a place as any right now so it was the duller side of a double edged sword so to speak.
He joined back up with Sirius and Lily, the former who looked bored out of his mind and the latter with a shit eating grin on her face. He just ignored her and went over to their leading officer stating that there was nothing out of the ordinary and Lily and Sirius ended up having nothing to report either.
He didn’t really understand the point of these checkpoints to and from Hogwarts- he truly doubted none of these kids would have anything to do with Voldemorts’ actual plans and even beyond that- Voldemort’s whole thing was about strategy, he’s been planning most of his larger scale attacks with precision, knowing exactly who and what to hurt, and blowing up a train full of kids would just be a waste of resources to him.
“Alright well, Kingsley said he wants you and the other trainees over at the Statham house okay?” Patricia, their officer, said in a tone that sounded a lot like ‘I’m telling you that you have to go there and I don’t quite care whether it’s okay with you or not.’
“Statham house? Why? It’s in the middle of bum-fuck no-” Sirius started but was cut off by the force of Patricia’s glare, “Oh fine, sorry, whatever.”
“I’m apparating us there because I don’t trust you,” Lily raised a brow at Sirius, delightfully reminding him of the time he tried apparating Frank and Alice to Hogsmeade and dislocated Frank’s shoulder- he was fine but said it hurt like a bitch which was a lot for Frank who rarely cursed.
They got into position but not before Sirius eyed James, “Hey is your shirt on inside out?”
Lily swiftly turned on her heel and apparated them away before James had to answer. Sirius always got a bit nauseous after apparating so James used the free time he had while his friend dry heaved on the ground to charm his shirt back on the right way- damn this uniform, it had too many moving parts.
When that matter was settled, James got his bearings and looked around at where they’d landed. Statham house was a small safehouse they’d recently cleared on the outskirts of a small village in Kelso, Scotland. The house had been vacated for quite some time and was technically owned by the government so a quick costume and payment to the bank had the house officially under Filch’s name.
They pushed open the small iron gate and walked up the paved path and were met with Shacklebolt and the usual group of them all.
“Alright, now we can begin,” he clapped, “Today we’re going to go over duelling, specifically duelling to incapacitate. Now, of course, we do not wish to fatally harm any body and we understand that it might be a necessity in the heat of battle, but if we are given a choice- we want to capture as many of them alive as possible so that we may interrogate and secure them in Azkaban. We are all aware of the standard ‘Petrificus Totalus’ and other similar Hogwarts- grade spells but today we’re going to go over a few less popular but equally powerful spells and curses.”
James felt like he was back in a classroom and wondered when the test over this material would be and if he needed to have taken notes. Funnily enough, when he looked over he saw that Mary actually had been taking notes on a small floral-patterned notepad.
Kingsley droned on about wand placement and how one had to flick their wrist at a 90 degree angle, not 91 or 89, and James had found a lovely chair to cosy up in against the far wall. He kicked his legs out and crossed his arms as he dropped his head ever so slightly, just resting his eyes was all- he had had quite a busy day so far and it just felt so good to…
“Potter!” Kingelsy shouted, jolting him from his…was that drool on his face? “Nice to see you’ve been paying attention, and seeing as you already know all this- listen, why don’t you go ahead and give us all a demonstration- you’re up with Pettigrew.” He stepped back, shaking his head.
He wiped his face with the back of his face and sadly went to the centre of the room where everyone was waiting in a circle. He was at least a bit happy it was Pete he was up against who, while pretty solid when it came to duelling, often got so nervous he ended up blundering and his opponent won by default.
And, exactly as expected, he stood across from him with jittery hands and sweat beading on his temple, “Hey Pete, you do know this is just a training exercise right?” James laughed along with others in the room to try and assuage him a bit, Pete never really liked attention anyways.
He let Pete cast first but his arm was weak and uncoordinated, the spell deflecting and hitting the wall behind him with a little pop.
‘ Ligatum funibus! ’ James cast and while the spell landed true, Pete threw up a strong shielding charm at the last moment
He stepped a bit to the side, angling his head, looking for nicks in the shield he kept up- a bit of a coward’s move in his opinion.
They went back and forth a bit, exchanging the same spell over and over and James was getting rather bored so in a moment of madness, he shot a leg-Lock jinx, a tickling charm, and the body-binding spell all at once, jumping to the side after the first one just so Pete would also have to change his deflection angles as well.
That put a swift end to the parry with James smirking and Pete wrapped up in ropes with a red face and bruised ego. He struggled a bit and after a minute of squirming, James let the spells go.
Kingsley, pleased, stepped forward, “Well that wasn’t exactly how you were to go about it but it worked- you’re free to go back to your nap now. The rest of you, pair up and keep practising. Try to incorporate movement in your duelling, in the real world, you won’t be able to just stand in one place and it’s good to stay light on your feet.”
They had an odd number so he did as instructed and went back to his seat though he didn’t get back to his nap and instead relaxed and watched the others go on. They were improving at record speed, their skills far beyond what they were in Hogwarts despite only a few months between now and then. This rapid bootcamp was the sort of training they needed to whip themselves into shape- duelling for a score and duelling for one’s life led to vastly different outcomes.
He sort of zoned out as he watched and was wondering what he wanted to eat for dinner when Kingsley abruptly stood up, his chair screeching loudly against the floor. He turned away as he spoke into the pendant that hung around his neck- a popular method of communication among Aurors when patronuses were too public and difficult and owls too slow. The charm around it made it impossible for others to overhear and none of them had received one yet so they were forced to wait for Kingsley to let them in on what was going on.
His face turned dark as he spoke curtly, the muscles in his neck and jaw rippling.
His communication abruptly cut off and when he turned around, he was met with a barrage of questions to which he replied with only a hand-
“There’s been an attack in Hogsmeade.”
There was only a collective moment of stunned silence before mayhem broke out and Kinglsey again had to silence them like they were a bunch of rowdy school children. He began delegating tasks to different people- Lily and the Longbottoms were to go to St. Mungo’s; Sirius and Mary to the Aurors office at the Ministry, on and on he went and the moment everyone got their tasks, they left.
Soon it was just him, Peter, and Remus left and Kingsley took them all with him as ‘backup’ though he gave them a stern talking-to before they left ensuring that they knew they were not actually Aurors and to not purposefully put themselves in harm's way.
They nodded and immediately side-alonged there.
The second they arrived, they were met with absolute chaos. Various storefronts were smoking and in flames and people were running and screaming in fear as Aurors and various other officials were ushering people out of buildings and trying to help people to safety. As James looked around, he couldn’t see a clear source of the flames or what store specifically was attacked but Kingsley immediately ordered them to try and help clear and secure the area.
They all scattered and James ran right into Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. The stationary shop was likely one of the most dangerous shops to be in- all the parchment and quills in there would serve as perfect kindling to the flames.
The inside had mostly been cleared out but the owner, a kindly old man by the name of Willis who had mobility issues and was in a wheelchair, was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t see him out front nor was he anywhere in the shop. A hominem revelio showed a man in the second floor of the building and James raced up the steps and banged on the locked door.
When he received no reply, he blew the handle off the door and pushed it open and called out to him, “Hello? Willis?”
“Here! I’m here!” a shout came from somewhere in one of the rooms in the back and James sidestepped the living room and followed the sounds of his voice.
He stepped into his bedroom and found him in bed, “I can’t-” his arm was outstretched towards his chair, “My wife- is she? Where-” he stuttered, clearly confused and in pain.
“Let’s help you first and I’ll look for your wife, is she here?” James asked him as he pulled the chair close to the bed and grabbed a coat off the chair for him to put on.
He shook his head, “No, she- she’s usually here but she went down- oh no,” he cried and James maintained his composure though he could only imagine how terrified he must feel right now.
He looped his arms under Willis’ and helped transfer him to his chair. Thankfully, the shop was still structurally sound so James had no qualms getting into the lift with him and once they touched ground, he pushed Willis through the store and out the front door where his wife was conveniently waiting.
“Oh Willy,” she cried upon seeing him, running over and throwing her arms around him. She trembled as she looked up at him, “Thank you- oh thank you so much,” she weeped, shaking his hand aggressively.
“It’s what I’m here for ma’am,” he bid before calling over an Auror that was leading a group away from the fray, “And she’ll help take you somewhere safe.”
When they left, James saw that the smoke had begun to clear a bit as some of the flames had been put out but the source, which seemed to be the Three Broomsticks, was still in flames with the brigade trying and failing to put out the fire.
He cursed but continued working, clearing out Dervish and Banges and Ollivander’s next and helping transfer people to St. Mungo’s when needed.
On his third apparition, he felt dizzy and nauseous and had to take a moment to recover. The flames in the bar had finally been put out and the area had more or less been secured, a protective bubble being cast over the entire area to keep people out and help officials survey the area.
He met back up with Remus who had ash staining his face and clothes. He had been a part of the cleanup at the Three Broomsticks and had seen some of the worst of it up there.
As it would turn out, the owner- a woman named Naomi Potish, had been targeted for her outspokenness against Voldemort. She had publicly expressed her dislike for him and gone on record multiple times denouncing him and anyone who follows him. She was also a member of the Order, gathering and sending information she gathered while listening in on conversations at her bar. Just recently, she had told them about the possibility of a power struggle within the death eaters.
The entire bar had been covered in a volatile and highly reactive liquid that once set alight, would burn brighter and hotter than normal flame. It went up like a match and while Naomi tried to get as many people out as she could, a few didn’t make it and she ended up going down with the bar she had cared for since she left Hogwarts.
“It’s a damn shame,” Remus shook his head as he looked at the charred corpse the flames left behind.
“They’ll build it back up,” James nodded morosely, trying to convince himself more than anything else. They had created so many memories there and to imagine it all wiped clean in the span of a few hours was just heartbreaking.
Rosmerta, a new hire, was sitting right outside, her head in her hands as she cried. She told them that she was a shoo in to take over once Naomi retired and it would seem she would now be forced to bear the burden of having to rebuild the bar she loved so much.
Suddenly someone calling his name stole his attention and he turned and saw his mum running towards him. She was still wearing her home clothes and her face was construed in terror.
“Mum?” he asked, rushing up and meeting her halfway. He was acutely aware of his own breathing then, the trembling inhale, exhale of his lungs. He couldn’t reconcile the image of his mother here amongst all the destruction.
“Your dad- where’s-” she pushed past him and he had to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going any farther. He didn’t know how she got past the barrier or what she was saying,
“Mum, just breathe. What’s wrong?” he pressed, leaning down so that they were face-to-face. She kept trying to break free from his grip but he held firm.
She had tears streaming from her beautiful brown eyes, the pain in them so clearly palpable that James felt his heart constrain, “Your dad- he came to Hogsmeade- it was his colleague’s birthday so they came out for a drink and-.” Her hair fell across her face, free from the bun on top of her head, and her face, oh her lovely face…
Suddenly all the noise in the area drowned out to a high pitched ringing noise as he watched his mum sob in front of him, not knowing where his dad was. He turned to Remus who rushed over and quickly took her to a group of Aurors who were standing by.
As if in slow motion, James turned and walked toward the smoking remains on the Three Broomsticks and his surroundings warped and morphed into a landscape of greys and blacks and senseless shapes as fear seized his every breath.
He looked at the horde of people outside the shop, some injured, most covered in smoke and coughing out black ash, and others just staring out blank-faced as they grappled with the severity of what just happened.
He looked for his dad in all their faces but he couldn’t find him. He didn’t know what his colleagues looked like either but he continued looking as though if he just tried hard enough, he could will his dad into existence- like he’d pop out from behind someone and come over and wrap him in a big hug.
But that didn’t happen.
He felt like he had been pushed on stage without knowing his lines- like there was some great spotlight forced onto him as the eyes of those nearby landed on his, their faces confused and curious. He felt like he was being put on display as his face and body burned.
A noise to his left caught his attention and he saw bodies being carried out under white sheets and lined up on the ground outside the storefront to await transfer.
James felt his heart slow- a thud, thud, silent beat where he wasn’t sure if it continued as he stared at the white tarp so carelessly thrown over the bodies as though they could be so easily forgotten.
He was about to look away when his eyes caught on the first body in the lineup. Half of the body was uncovered due to the sheet being pulled in the opposite direction and he saw a watch on the left hand that lay limp at the man’s side.
It was a gold thick-banded watch with rubies encrusted in a circle around the face. He and his mum had gotten it for him on his sixty-fifth birthday- they got it custom made from a shop in Italy that they’d visited once when he was much younger. It was the first family trip they’d ever been on- James was so young still held his mum’s hand whenever they crossed streets and sat on his dad’s shoulders when he got tired. When they first passed that shop, his dad stopped in front of the glass window, looking down at the watch in awe.
James pulled on the leg of his trousers, asking why he didn’t buy it. His dad just patted him on the shoulder, saying he had no need for it and asked if he wanted another scoop of ice cream.
James never forgot that memory and later bought that exact watch for him.
He felt like he had been punched in the gut as the air rushed out of him. His stomach tightened and he wasn’t even aware he was hyperventilating until he found himself facing the ground, his hands braced on his knees as he fought to keep himself upright.
However, a man in a white cloak with a clipboard came over and pulled the sheet back and there, laying on the ground, face upturned toward the bleeding setting sun, was his father, face serene and body still. The powder-blue shirt he was wearing was stained red with blood and his other arm had burn wounds lashed across it.
The ground rushed up to meet him then as James fell to his knees and openly sobbed as a cavernous hole of grief had opened up inside him threatening to overtake his entire being. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t think- he couldn’t overcome the reckless onslaught of grief that pushed him deeper and deeper into the ground.
“Baba,” he hoarsed out, his chest constricting. His throat was raw and burnt from the dry air and he wasn’t aware he was still speaking till he tasted blood in his mouth. He hadn’t called him that since he was a child, when he realised that not everyone called their dad that and he adapted to those around him but he had never felt smaller than he did now. “Oh gods,” he cried out to no one. No one could help him now.
He wanted to rush over, to cradle his head in his lap and tell him he’d be okay, he wanted to comfort his father just like he had for him countless times over when he was a child but it would be to no avail. Even then, James didn’t think he could go any closer if he tried, he couldn’t bear to see him like this.
Fate was cruel for letting him live such a long life only to have it robbed from him so quickly.
Just this morning they had seen each other, sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. He tried to remember their conversation, what he had last said to his father, or what he may have said to him but he came up blank.
The memory froze in his mind before any words came out and it slowly bled away before being replaced with the image in front of him now.
A resounding shriek came from beside him as he watched his mum crumple into Remus’ arms, her tears striking the ground beside him like bombs, their pain hitting him ten fold, intensifying his pain even more.
Remus held her up though he was crying now too. Tears dancing over the ridges of the scars on his face, his amber eyes set alight under his crystal tears. He could barely hold up his own weight yet he stood strong under the weight of his mum who looked from his dad to him like she couldn’t decide what to do next.
The man saw them and quickly dropped the sheet back down and moved on but James stared at the spot like he could see through it to his lovely father beneath it. His dad who had never once showed him an ounce of dislike, his dad who had loved him with his entire being, the man who loved being a father and husband and caretaker for all those around him.
They all cried for Fleamont Potter who was no longer with them to help them through their pain. How was one to move on with their support system gone? How had today taken such a horrible and twisted turn?
James wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to leave this spot even after his father’s body was taken away and the area cleared out. As his mum was taken to St. Mungo’s and Kinglsey left.
He may be in the waiting room of St. Mungo’s now but he left a piece of his soul there on the steps of the Three Broomsticks, a few feet away from where his father might have taken his last breath.
__________
“We are sad to announce the passing of Fleamont Henry Potter who also passed away in the attack on the Three Broomsticks on September 1st. Those inside say Fleamont dedicated his final moments bravely helping other patrons out of the bar. He is remembered by his wife, Euphemia Potter, and his son, James Fleamont Potter. The funeral will be a private ceremony with only close family members present.” There was a small image of the three of them printed under it, Fleamont standing with one arm around Euphemia’s waist and the other on a much younger James’ shoulder who stood happily in front of them, his smile revealing two missing teeth.
Regulus felt sick as he reread the words that were printed in The Prophet . A flowery version of what Sirius had told him through the two-way mirror through tears and cries of pain that pierced his soul so thoroughly that Regulus felt like he was walking around with bleeding stab wounds visible to all around him.
Sirius had never been so openly emotional with him and Regulus had to force his composure to keep from falling apart with him. Regulus thought he felt sad when his father died but it was unlike anything he witnessed with Sirius, the guttural sounds and heart-wrenching words that poured forth from him was emotion unparalleled and Regulus fought to understand.
He hadn’t known Fleamont personally but he knew the sort of man he was and he could mourn the world for the loss it faced without Fleamont Potter.
James hadn’t gotten out of bed yet and Regulus had only managed a moment to speak to him before he started hyperventilating and had to end the call. James had cried for him, wanted him there with him so badly that it hurt and Regulus would’ve done anything to run out the doors of Hogwarts and be with him but he was forced to stay.
That is, unless…
He knocked on the door to McGonagall’s office- he would’ve gone to Dumbledore but he was understandably out of office again and he also figured McGonagall was more likely to say yes to him than the old man was.
“Come in,” she called out and he entered.
After a few empty pleasantries and an offer for a biscuit, he took a deep breath, “I wanted to ask if I may be granted a temporary leave, just for the weekend.”
She sighed, sitting back in her chair, “And why is that?” Though he could see the pain that shadowed her eyes and knew that she already knew the answer to that question.
“I would like to attend his funeral, please. And see my brother, and…James,” he whispered, looking away now. He felt suddenly stupid for asking, like he was asking to go out on a playdate.
He understood how ridiculous it might look for Regulus to ask to attend the funeral of a man he barely met, to see his brother who had abandoned him, and his boyfriend who, while grieving, wasn’t a student anymore and was busy with things that didn’t concern him.
McGonagall had every right to say no and yet, “Okay.”
His head snapped up, “Wait what?”
“I said okay, you may be permitted a four day leave, I can arrange for you to leave through the floo in my office on Thursday once your classes end and I expect back on campus on Sunday evening.”
He stood up, “Thank you Professor. Truly.” He couldn’t believe it.
“There is just one thing,” she pointed out, pursing her lips, “I have to obtain a permission slip from the parents of students who request an extended leave from campus.”
Fuck…he’d never get that. He looked helplessly up at her as he flustered for a moment. He opened and shut his mouth as he worked through the dozens of possibilities he could try but each one ended with his mum finding out and him in trouble.
He was about to give it up, to resign himself to seeing James over the winter holiday but he glanced out the window to McGonagall’s office and saw the Black Lake glittering under the burning sun. If he tried hard enough, he could picture James down there right now, a gleaming smile on his face and he refocused back on the professor in front of him as he prepared to take a massive leap of faith,
“I understand, however, I will likely be unsuccessful in obtaining a permission slip- my mother is quite…disagreeable and I doubt she will approve. However, I will be leaving campus on Thursday- whether my leave is approved or not is up to you but I can only hope you can help me.”
She ran her shrewd eyes over his form as she assessed him, “It’s that important to you? That you would just run away and risk suspension, or even expulsion from this school?”
Well, he hadn’t necessarily considered that but he had come this far so,
“Yes professor it is. What happened there was an absolute tragedy and I-” he sighed shakily, “I really want to be there for them- for him…James needs me,” he whispered finally, unexpectedly truthful but he felt she had the right to know what sort of relationship they had ended up developing under the rouse she put them in.
Some last frosty layer over her seemed to melt as she stood up and nodded once.
“Technically I am not to let students leave campus without express permission from parents but if my floo is open on Thursday evening and one were to slip through, I wouldn’t be able to do anything about that,” she said with a tilt of her head.
He nodded understandingly before moving to the door and at the last minute he turned around once more and murmured, “Thank you.”
She smiled back and he quickly went back to his dorms to prepare.