Chapter 8
"WARDS ARE DOWN," yelled Lily, before running to Remus and apparating away with him.
Another green jet of light from Riddle's wand
"Sirius!" James screamed, shielding him again, not taking into account that the masked person was now free to attack them. Sirius had lost his wand only a second ago, an Expelliarmus, leaving him defenceless.
James, the idiot, had shielded Sirius from an Avada with his body. Twice. Sirius had half a mind to thwack him on the head. It was a miracle that he hadn't died.
Sirius' mind was in overdrive. Who were these people? This Riddle? What did he want? He knew the 'princeling', as he had called him. Obviously. And what kind of–, why was he so careless about–, why was he attacking the palace?
Sirius didn’t have time to dwell on that, at the moment. He didn’t have a wand, he had no defence, no offence. Nothing. The prince was patting Sirius' arms and body, probably making sure he was alright, eyes unfocused.
Think, Sirius, think, he willed himself.
"CRUCIO!"
Oh, no. Here it comes, he thought. But the pain never came. Instead, Sirius watched as James' body tensed impossibly, as if he had been hit with a Petrificus Totalus, but it wasn’t as harmless as all that.
It was the worst unforgivable of them all.
It was the torture curse.
Sirius expected screams, as he had heard before in the presence of such a spell. But they never came. James was trembling, his eyes closed, his mouth shut. Not a single noise from his lips.
He was vibrating with pain so intensely that Sirius thought that he'd explode. It was the most horrible, nightmare inducing sight he had ever been subjected to. And he had no way of stopping it.
Sirius let go of the arms he was holding, feeling as if he was abandoning him, then dived to the floor in search of his bloody wand.
James wasn’t screaming.
Sirius felt as if he might scream in his stead.
Still trembling in agony, James' body turned to face Riddle, falling to his knees.
How long could a person last under the torture?
Fucking buggering bloody wand, where the fuck was it?
Nobody was paying any attention to him, the masked person still held the spell steady, though their hand was shaking slightly.
Riddle had a sadistic half-smile on his face.
Sirius moved behind them, still searching. He chanced a look at James, and what he saw felt physically painful.
He had raised his head slightly, opened bloodshot eyes, tears streaming down his beautiful, contorted face.
He looked defiant.
He looked half dead.
He looked heavenly.
Sirius tore his eyes away, finally locating the wand, right there on the floor. He didn’t think about it, really. He threw himself on the prince, just as the masked person lifted their arm and snapped the connection of the curse.
Sirius felt, more than saw, the shift in Riddle's countenance.
"The cloak, where is it?" he demanded urgently.
James took a loud breath, as if he hadn't let his lungs fill with air since the spell was cast against him, Sirius wrapped his arms around him and apparated them out, right to his own flat, his own bedroom.
He knew that it wasn’t the safest place in the world, but it was something. Riddle wouldn’t have time to track them down so quickly; the place had wards.
Sirius had more pressing issues just now.
James was slumped against him, arms hanging limply at his sides, face slack. He wasn’t unconscious, as far as Sirius could tell, but he looked ready to crumble.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Sirius repeated, over and over again.
He knew he was freaking out slightly, but he couldn’t quite collect himself. He had just watched the man being tortured, for Merlin's sake, he had been saved by him from a killing curse twice, and he'd let him be tortured for fuck knows how long.
Sirius willed himself to formulate a plan. It wasn’t easy.
He tried conjuring a patronus, but all the good memories he could summon were interrupted by the image of this boy, this poor boy, in the middle of his pain, crying silently.
Fucking think, Sirius Orion!
He needed help. He couldn’t take the bloody prince of the Kingdom to St. Mungos, it'd be stupid to even try. But he needed help. They both did.
Sirius took stock of his own injuries. Nothing greater than a graze on the leg and a burn on his neck. Manageable.
He set James down on the bed. No blood anywhere. His trousers were scorched at the knee, a bad burn. Probably that ball of fire that had flown from Riddle's wand.
This Sirius could deal with, but when he tried to move to the bathroom where he kept some healing potions, James' arm reached for his, eyes suddenly wide and alert and–, scared.
"I'm not leaving you, there's just something I need to–,"
"Please," croaked the prince in a voice so small, so broken, that Sirius had no choice but to stay put. He knew he would never deny James anything, especially not now. It made his heart ache, such a pained expression on such a sweet face.
I'm going to set them ablaze for you, Sirius thought venomously.
Now that the adrenaline was fading, all he could feel was his heart breaking for James and a cold rage settling into his skin, his bones.
He summoned the vials from the bathroom cupboard, but he didn't want to touch James more than was strictly necessary. Not without his permission.
James' breathing was becoming more rapid and uneven now. This was hardly surprising, as the rush of the encounter faded, they all would have to settle back into their bodies again.
He spared one small thought for his friends, how they were doing.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door to his room.
Sirius tensed, ready for another attack.
"It's Remus, are you there?"
Sirius breathed out, then addressed the shaking boy on his bed, "Remus is here, would you want–,"
But he knew immediately that it would be useless to wait for a reply; James probably had had reality crash down on him with Remus' knock. His breaths were too quick and uneven, his eyes unfocused.
"Remus," Sirius yelped. "Panic attack," he explained quickly, when the door opened.
"Lily," was all that Remus said in response.
They managed to get James to the living room, where Lily was, where Lily will help, thought Sirius.
"First we need–," Remus started, but Sirius interrupted.
"No, 'first' nothing! Look at him! He can hardly breathe!"
"Sirius," said Lily, slumped on the sofa.
Sirius' eyes snapped up to her and, oh. So she wouldn't be any help. She had a very bloody arm, the ugly jumper ruined, probably forever. A nasty gash across her leg, bleeding on the carpet.
"Sectumsempra," she explained, at the same time that Remus said, "help her."
Sirius' eyes went back and forth, from James to Lily. With a growl he stood up, "look after him," he snapped at Remus. "It's going to burn, Lils," he said, but didn't let her respond before starting the melody, channelling his magic, an echo of their school days waking itself in his mind. To the first moment he heard about the sectumsempra curse; to the first time he'd learnt the song, the melody, which was the only thing capable of fully healing the slashes that the spell provoked; to the first time he had to use it.
He knew he shouldn’t be, but he was annoyed with Remus for not dealing with this on his own. He knew the melody just as well as Sirius did, knew the spell just as intimately as Sirius did. Why hadn't he healed Lily before? She must be in a world of pain, right now. What had kept him?
It wasn't that Sirius didn't care that Lily was injured. She was his friend, after all, and he was worried about her. The problem was that Remus could have helped himself, he could have not waited for Sirius. He didn’t know what to make of that.
Sirius could barely focus on the task at hand. All he could hear was James' gasps for air and his broken pleas behind his own raspy singing. Sirius’ mind was an overwhelming mix of ‘I have to help Lily’ and ‘James needs help’.
As fast as he could, Sirius finished up with Lily. There went one hope; she wouldn't be much help with James right now. She should stay put, lie down if possible.
Sirius didn’t even excuse himself before returning to James' side, but when the prince saw who was approaching him, he sobbed "why did you leave me?" in a voice so broken that Sirius felt as though a pair of hand were squeezing, squeezing, squeezing his heart. The prince's eyes were out of orbit, unfocused and tender.
He’s disassociating, Sirius’ mind provided.
Sirius was stunned.
You don't abandon someone who's having a panic attack, Sirius, he chastised himself. But really, he hadn’t had a choice. Lily had been paling rapidly from blood loss. Plus, it was actually a miracle that Remus hadn’t bolted the second he found Sirius.
Slowly, he approached the pair. Remus was speaking to James, eyes open in surprise, but with a calming tone, sat beside James, who was on his knees, begging, gasping.
"I'm here, I didn't leave, I'm here," Sirius tried to explain.
"Why did he leave me? Come back," he cried.
"I'm here, I'm right here. Can I touch you?" Sirius asked softly.
"I don't understand, I–, what's wrong with him?" asked Remus, very much taken aback. Now that Sirius was there for James and Lily was finally alright, he was probably due for a freak-out himself. "What did they do to him? He was alright when we left!"
Sirius recollected that, the last time that Remus had seen the prince, he'd been in the middle of an attack, holding his own perfectly well, while also protecting them all.
"Not the time, Remus. If you're alright, take Lily to bed. Gently. Don't leave her alone," Sirius rasped. James continued asking, begging feverishly. Remus nodded before doing as he was told. "James, you're having a panic attack. I need you to tell me if I can touch you now." Sirius tried speaking in a low, soft tone, but he was sure his voice was trembling.
James didn't respond verbally, but he reached a hand to grab Sirius', seemingly not caring that it was Sirius' wand hand, very much attached to his wand still.
"Alright, you're alright, James. You are at my place. Lily is safe and cured. Remus is fine. Marlene is–," Sirius stopped himself. He didn’t know anything about Marlene yet. Not since she apparated with Meadowes. "You're alright," he repeated, amidst gasps for air from the other boy. "I'm here, James. It's me, Sirius. I'm here," he kept going.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," James choked out, looking straight at Sirius. Then his eyes glazed once more, as if seeing someone far away. "Why did you leave me with–, you said you'd–," he looked around confusedly, then addressed Sirius again, "he promised he’d come back, doctor Riddle–," he gasped. Sirius stilled. Someone had left James. Left him with Riddle, who was a doctor? It didn’t make sense. Sirius knew that muggle healers were called doctors, but he didn’t–, he didn’t understand. “Said he’d come back.” he gasped, out of breath.
Sirius couldn’t help himself, he was all out of options, the prince was hyperventilating, not calming down in the slightest, gasping, losing track of–, well, everything, losing himself.
He looked close to tears.
Sirius couldn't stand it when people cried.
It always made him think of little Regulus, flooding the kitchen with tears, because of a cruel–.
Bawling, hurt, in pain, heartbroken.
It always left Sirius with an ache in his chest, a need to set things right.
Sirius usually thought he was too sharp, his edges too jagged to offer comfort, but he didn't hesitate this time.
He threw his arms around James' shoulders and pushed his head to his chest, praying to Merlin and Morgana both that this didn't make things worse. "I'm sorry that happened to you, James," he whispered, voice strained. He felt the urge to cry himself. Something about seeing this boy so sad, so heartbroken, made his chest feel constricted, his throat closed. "I'm so, so sorry. But you're alright now. I'm here, and you're here, and we'll be fine. We're safe. I promise you, James, you are safe."
Sirius' eyes filled with tears when the prince finally put his arms around him, taking a slow, steadying, somewhat shaky breath in his arms, in the crook of his neck.
He was safe, thought Sirius. He was safe with him.
"I'm going to move us to the sofa, is that–, would you mind?"
The boy tightened his grip on Sirius in response.
"I won't let you go, love, I promise." Sirius murmured, standing up from the floor without releasing James, only adjusting him to be half carried to the sofa.
Thank Merlin for cushioning charms, he thought as he lay across the large sofa with James.
Sirius allowed himself to release most of the tension that had had him standing, or rather, sitting upright until then, deflating like a balloon.
He still wasn't exactly relaxed; he'd had no news from Marlene yet, but if anyone could have won that fight it was her. Especially as she'd been the one to apparate Meadowes from the palace, not the other way around. She’d had the upper hand.
He closed his eyes and tried to organise his thoughts, still holding James, trying to comfort him.
The prince had been subjected to the Cruciatus and he'd, somehow, managed to make not a sound. It was unheard of, especially for the fir–.
Sirius' train of thought stopped in its tracks.
'Unheard of', he sounded out in his mind, as if slowing the rapidity of the words would make them less impactful, 'unheard of, especially for the first time that someone was subjected to it'.
Oh, how that idea hurt his heart.
James had been under the Cruciatus before.
Sirius had to stop himself from smothering the dozing boy on his lap with cuddles and apologies for acts he hadn't committed.
"You're at my place, James. It's in London. Remus and Lily are in bed. You're in the living room with me, Sirius. You're safe," Sirius repeated whenever he felt James’ breathing become uneven again.
“I’m sorry,” James choked out, shifting, as if to remove himself from Sirius.
“Shh, Jamie, you’re alright, you’re safe. Don’t go,” Sirius answered, the last phrase escaping his mouth before he could stop it, although it did come out more quietly.
“Thank you,” James whispered, burying his face into Sirius’ underarm.
Finally, finally, Sirius felt James relax. Mostly. Sirius removed James’ glasses and placed them on the back of the sofa.
The time passed idly, Sirius' mind jumping from horrifying idea to horrifying idea, his hands traversing James' back, their breaths finally reaching a sort of rhythm again, connected.
Suddenly, Sirius felt James' body jolt, as if struck by something, and again, and then once more.
Was there something on the sofa? Had Riddle cursed him with a spell he hadn't noticed?
Sirius twisted his body to face James, who was apparently a cuddler, (nobody could have ever guessed), to gauge what was going on, to ask him, perhaps.
But James' face was serene, completely slack, with tear tracks down his cheeks but relaxed. Only a few sleepy sniffles every few breaths. Even his breathing had settled finally, synchronised to Sirius'.
Another jolt, James' body spasming, seizing, then relaxing again.
The Cruciatus, Sirius thought. Aftershocks. He must have been fighting them off until now. In his own experience, they had come almost immediately after being released from the connection. Had he done it on purpose? Hidden them from Sirius? Or had it been simply that he didn't have them until he allowed himself a moment of respite?
James was asleep, and he was still suffering.
"There's no need to fight them anymore," Sirius told him. "You can relax now," he said softly, running fingers through his hair, caressing his back.
I will destroy them, Sirius thought once again. But as his body relaxed under James' warm weight, his mind took him in another direction.
So many questions, all crowded and jumbled inside were enough to make him feel dizzy, the most glaring one being 'what the fuck happened?'.
This was of no help to anyone.
Sirius remembered, when the D.I.U.M. sent them the reports of outbursts of accidental magic coming from a property of the Royal Family, the risk level of the task had been classified as low.
Certainly not anymore.
Not with a mad man infiltrating a boggart into the Prince's private living area, gaining access himself, destroying the place and attacking the Prince and his friends.
The image of James’ tortured expression while under the Cruciatus seemed to have burnt itself in Sirius’ brain. He couldn’t think of what happened rationally, all Sirius could see was James, crying silently, his body taut as a string, his defiant gaze upon Riddle. All he could feel was rage and sorrow and a strain in his lungs, as though cruel hands were squeezing the air out of him. James didn’t deserve that. Nobody did, but James especially.
Sirius shook himself.
Riddle had demanded a cloak. But why? What cloak was so important as to warrant a vicious attack on one of the most famous, influential and, most importantly, heavily guarded people in the world?
Realising that he’d get no answers by himself, his thoughts strayed to his friends.
Lily, who had nearly bled to death, the evidence of her injuries all over the carpet; Remus, whose magical core must surely be exhausted, the full moon not at all far in the past.
Marlene.
Merlin, Sirius hoped she was alright.
Sirius and Marlene had had a rocky start to a brilliant friendship. She’d been as wary of him as everybody else, in the beginning. The Black family name was notorious in pureblood circles, even those as far removed as the Mckinnons. Infamous in the Wizarding World, being born in such a family had given Sirius countless privileges, as well as scars. His classmates, even some of his teachers had been reluctant to cross him for fear of retaliation. Barely anybody knew, or even suspected then, that Sirius knew first hand how vicious the Blacks could be to anyone who dared oppose them.
Still, always the brave Gryffindor, Marlene had been the only one who dared sit next to him in class. She’d been the first one to offer being partners with Sirius any time a group project had been requested.
She was outspoken, borderline disrespectful in the friendliest way possible, with no regards for propriety. She was a chaos gremlin, and Sirius’ friend. One of his best friends, in fact.
And while Sirius had complete faith in her when it came to defending herself, he couldn’t help but worry for her. He was still unable to cast a patronus to communicate with her; Sirius’ Patronus was weak in the best of circumstances, right now it was proving to be impossible to cast.
It hadn’t been more than half an hour when a voice from the door startled Sirius out of his dread.
“Where is she?” asked Lily. He’d heard the footsteps, of course, but assumed that they were Remus’, not hers.
Sirius didn’t need to ask whom Lily meant. It was in everyone’s mind, he supposed. Marlene was Lily’s best friend, her roommate. Ever since Lily had given up the friendship she’d held with Snivellus, (Sirius would never regret antagonising the vile, slimy piece of shite that he was, even if Lily had hated him for years because of it), Marlene had always been there for her. Well, she’d been there before that happened too, but it was more evident when Lily and the git had stopped speaking.
The look on Sirius’ face must have provided all the answer Lily needed.
She sighed deeply, her eyes falling on the sleeping James.
“Well, that’s a development,” she said, her smirk not quite enough to erase the disquietude in her expression.
In spite of all that had happened, Sirius blushed.
“Unforgivable,” he explained, the mood of the room suddenly losing its tentative teasing.
Lily blanched, “wha–, who–, how long?” she stammered. James’ body flinched again. Sirius held him tighter. “You don’t think Marls–,” she trailed off, her hand shaking as she found the armrest of the chair behind her and sat down.
Sirius shook his head, but it was a dishevelled Remus who answered, “I don’t think Meadowes would–, but then, I wouldn’t have thought she would work with a madman to attack the Royal Prince either…"
“She always was quite powerful, Sirius” Lily said uncertainly.
“Unforgivables aren’t a matter of power,” snapped Sirius. “They are a matter of intent. Or, as it was, intent mixed with lunacy. That masked person seemed deranged when they–,”
“Wait, so it wasn’t Riddle?”
Sirius shook his head again, his mind jumbled with the image of James kneeling on the ground, suffering.
His voice shook when he spoke, “it was the other one. Riddle just seemed to be enjoying it."
Just then, the windows of the living room shook, the soft lights flickered, a few books fell from their shelves.
At once, the three of them were on their feet, wands out.
But nothing happened.
More books fell, each thud causing Sirius to flinch, the windows cracked a little, making an ominous, high pitched noise, as though someone was drawing on them with a metallic pencil.
But nothing actually happened.
They looked at each other, frowns of confusion etched in all their faces, until Sirius noticed that James was writhing on the sofa, distress evident on his face.
Nightmare.
Before Sirius could take one step in his direction, James jumped up, completely awake.
“Marlene,” he gasped, and ran to the kitchen, from where a CRACK of apparition echoed through.
Sirius was running too, before he had a chance to understand what’s happening. He only knew that he couldn’t leave James alone.
The flat wasn’t large, and Sirius was fast, but still it took him about seven heartbeats from the sound of an ‘oof’ until he reached James in the kitchen.
Sirius stopped abruptly, right in front of the kitchen door.
And there was James, holding on to Marlene with enough force to pop her eyes. But Marlene was holding him just as tightly, if the indents on James’ jumper were any indication.
Remus and Lily collided with Sirius’ back with an ‘Oof’ and an ‘Ouch’ respectively.
The moment that Lily noticed Marlene she tried to run past Sirius, but he stopped her.
This was for the two old friends, just for a minute.
The three of them looked to the two best friends holding on to each other for dear life, speaking very rapidly, quietly, all over each other.
Sirius couldn’t, not even for the world, tell what was being said, but somehow they seemed to be communicating.
"What are they… doing?" asked Remus very slowly.
"I think they're… communicating," provided Lily in the same manner.
Sirius snorted.
Marlene turned her head to stare at him, their incomprehensible chat cut off abruptly.
"Alright then," James said chirpily, "I think we can be sure that Marlsly is fine now."
Sirius stared.
Where was the broken, gasping, tired out James he'd been holding a few minutes ago?
The distressed boy who'd been having a nightmare powerful enough to rattle everything in his flat?
The man in front of him was completely fine, if a little tired.
It didn't make any sense.
Lily threw herself at Marlene, "you bloody whore, I was so worried!" she cried, hugging her friend.
Remus stepped closer to them too, "don't do that again, please," he sighed, a hand on Marlene's elbow; the only obvious safe place.
"What the bloody hell took you so long?" demanded Sirius, his relief leaving him wrongfooted, finally freeing him to be utterly irritated.
"Your bloody wards didn't allow my patronus through," she snarked back, extricating herself from Remus and Lily, her hand holding on to James' tightly. "I've been trying to get them down practically since I apparated from the palace."
"YOU TOOK THE WARDS DOWN?" Sirius demanded.
"You know, for someone who's supposed to be my friend, you have a terribly low concept of my intelligence," she said in a tone of feigned disappointment. "Of course I bloody well didn't. I altered them for a little while.”
Lily breathed out, looking as if she might fall asleep on her feet now. It was suddenly clear to Sirius that her injuries, though closed magically, were far from healed.
Remus clapped his hands once, wincing at the sound, “we’ll talk tomorrow. I, for one, am suddenly feeling the effects of all those lethal concoctions of yours, Marls.” He looked around, lost for a second, “we can transfigure some beds for you three. I wouldn’t be comfortable with anyone leaving the flat just yet.”
Marlene looked as if she might object, Sirius felt a chill down his spine when he thought of separating from everyone. Lily, who had been injured, Remus, who looked exhausted, Marlene, who Merlin knew what had happened to her…
And James, who had–, who had–.
No. Sirius couldn't, wouldn’t let anyone out of his flat. Not tonight.
“Nobody’s leaving here,” he stated firmly. “For one, Evans needs to rest. She shouldn’t even be up now. We’ll set up camp in the living room.”
“We have perfectly good beds in our rooms, Sirius,” Remus argued.
“I’m not letting anyone out of my sight, Lupin,” responded Sirius, his temper rising.
"I can go–," started James.
"You, quite literally, cannot," Sirius interrupted.
"He could come to mine," tried Marlene, James nodded next to her.
"And why would he go to yours if you're here?" Sirius puzzled.
"I… Wouldn't? Be here?"
"Yes you will!” Sirius said, a little hysterical.
He didn’t even feel ashamed or shy about his distress. Sirius was scared shitless, for all of them. James was a target, Marlene had been recognised by one of the three attackers, which made her a target too, Remus had hit the masked wanker with some ugly curses, though reserved by SIrius’ standards. Sirius himself had made his stance with the Prince quite noticeable, fighting alongside him, getting him away. Even the fact that James had protected him might be a problem, it made him a target, even if only as a means to get to James.
He couldn’t let them out of his sight. He wouldn’t. Lily wasn’t great at DADA in the best of circumstances; Remus had already drained possibly all, most likely most, of his magical capability for tonight, Marlene looked ready to collapse, and James didn’t even have training for Merlin’s sake.
Sirius had been the one to escape mostly unharmed.
They couldn’t go.
They were all he had.
He was distantly aware that Remus was speaking once more. But he couldn’t focus. He had to be there. Sirius was nothing if he wasn’t right there, where things might go wrong.
A hand on his arm had his head snapping up, meeting James’ concerned eyes.
“Take a breath,” he said. Sirius didn’t understand why. He was breathing. Right? He was.
He wasn’t.
“Like this,” James said, placing Sirius’ hand on his chest and taking an exaggerated, slow breath.
Sirius tried to copy him, suddenly realising that he wasn’t really breathing, only shallow, quick gulps of air making it through.
“We’ll stay. Just breathe, just like that,” James’ tone was firm, low. Sirius doubted that anybody else could hear him. It was more a murmur of a voice.
It was calming.
With a gasp, he said “everybody stays.”
“Everybody stays,” James agreed. “Don’t worry.”
Less tense now, Sirius faced his friends. The three of them watching James, staring more like.
Sirius didn’t have the energy to pretend not to know why. It was common knowledge that Sirius Black did not need, or indeed accept, help. Ever.
It was even more known that if someone had the misfortune of finding themselves with an agitated Sirius Black, the best course of action was to turn the other way, lest a stray curse hit them.
Nobody ever touched him when he was angry, or sad. Nobody ever came close to him, in fact.
Not that it was easy to know when he was angry or sad, of course. Sirius liked to think that his impassive expression was as close to perfect as humanly possible. But there were instances in which his temper got the better of him, and it was rare that, when that happened, people left the scene unscathed. Including himself.
And yet, James didn’t seem perturbed by his outburst, nor his less than seemly display of weakness.
He was just there. He comforted Sirius. With no more than a few sentences and a hand on his arm.
He hadn’t been even a little scared of him.
Everybody was scared of Sirius. He knew it, his friends knew it. Sirius knew that his eyes frightened people sometimes, especially in moments of instability.
Sirius scared himself, as well, occasionally. When he felt his sanity slip away, falling to the madness that so characterised the Blacks. But Sirius didn’t feel insane right now. Maybe it was the way that James had validated his fear, maybe it was the presence of his friends, safe and mostly sound. Maybe it was that he was tired enough that it didn’t matter.
Looking straight at the wall behind his friends, Sirius said, “let’s set up camp?”
And that was that.
Remus set out to push every piece of furniture aside, performed a few cleaning spells around the living room, and argued with Lily over her inability to stay out of the way in her weakened state. For her part, Marlene took to asking James every question that Sirius hadn’t dared. Mainly, who Riddle was and why he attacked.
These were questions that were burning in Sirius’ mind too, but he’d never–, well, he’d never pressure him to revisit the circumstances. Especially after seeing him break down so completely before. They were safe now. They could discuss matters tomorrow. Lily and Remus seemed to feel the same way as he did, for which he was so grateful. Marlene hadn’t seen James’ panic. She didn’t know yet how bad it had been. Of course she was curious. He himself was curious, obviously, which is why he didn’t call her out on her pushing.
Marlene knew James like nobody else did. She knew what she was doing. Sirius was almost certain of it. Plus James didn’t seem to mind her probing, he was doing just fine fending her off.
Sirius conjured some sleeping bags and cushioned the floor; he didn’t really want to transfigure everything into beds, plus they wouldn’t fit in the room. James ignored most of Marlene’s questions when he could, answered evasively when he couldn’t, and occupied himself with lighting a fire in the fireplace. Without asking, mind.
The flat was freezing cold; Sirius and Remus had barely stepped foot in it since starting the project at the palace, except once a month for the full moon, of course.
James, Sirius was learning, had no sense of personal boundaries. Not only in that he was extremely tactile and he stood too close to people every now and then, but also, in that, for example, he immediately dived into the wardrobe where they kept all the blankets and quilts and simply passed them around the room, as if they were there for the taking, not someone’s property.
It was a little funny to Sirius, especially after living in the same palace as him. James was very giving in his home, generous and unpretentious with his own stuff, but he also apparently felt the exact same way when it came to other people’s homes.
Maybe if Sirius hadn’t known him before bringing him into his and Remus’ home, if they hadn’t been friends before, this would have been irritating. But, as it was, it was sort of endearing.
This wasn’t an average, normal person. This was the youngest Royal Prince of the fucking Kingdom. By the sounds of it, he was the youngest by far more than just a few years. He’d grown up surrounded by comforts and with friends who were just as unconcerned with giving as he was. Of course he’d be a little entitled, a little thoughtless about people sharing things with him, probably because he was so open with his own stuff.
Sirius exchanged an amused glance with Remus, then focused on Lily, who was staring at the Prince with unguarded wonderment.
Lily had been in the flat more than a few times now, over the years, but she’d never treat the place with such familiarity as James did in his first time there.
“Make yourself at home,” Sirius chuckled to himself.
It wasn’t that the Prince was careless, by any means. His ability to read the room and his hyper-awareness of when somebody wanted to be left alone were uncanny, Sirius had to give him that. It was only a rather… innocent thoughtlessness, that drove him to act as what many people may misconstrue as presumption.
At last, everybody settled in for the night. The girls and James borrowed some of Remus’ jumpers, while the boys chose some ill-fitting, rather ugly but very warm pyjamas.
James looked particularly adorable, swimming in a large, brown jumper of Remus’ and tartan bottoms of Sirius'. And it wasn’t only Sirius who thought so, for the moment she saw him, Marlene jumped up from her sleeping bag and tackled him, laughing about how “like a little child, or a properly normal man of the people” he looked.
Sirius did disagree in that last point, though. The Prince was a prince in name, but also in face and posture and address, even in ordinary clothes. Everything about him was a mix of casual confidence and sweetness of demeanour that Sirius had never seen before. Arrogance tended to ruin someone's goodwill, but in him they were so intrinsically weaved together that it felt impossible to separate them, he mused.
All of them surrounding the fireplace, the flat truly was freezing, the only sounds the crackle of the fireplace, one by one, they fell asleep.
They all sat down wordlessly in the small kitchen the next morning, or rather, afternoon.
A tense atmosphere had followed them all since they woke up, much later than Sirius had expected. All the burning questions that the night before had brought were made worse by the general knowledge that their answers would be nothing good.
Minutes ticked by, with all five of them staring at their own breakfasts.
Nobody seemed to want to start.
"I suppose I should, uh, begin. I’m the one who put you in danger," said James uncomfortably. "First, I'm sorry that you all got caught in the mi–,"
"James Potter, I swear to Merlin, if you apologise for being attacked one more time," Marlene interrupted, tone dark. She deflated half way through her threat, however. In a softer voice she continued, "Just tell us how you knew them, please?"
James sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, messing his bedhead even more.
"Riddle was my–," his voice caught, "my doctor. For years. He–, I don't know. He studied me. Tried to–, my family was scared of my magic. Or, actually, they were scared of what was happening around me. No one in my family knows it's magic. I was acting out, you see. After mum and dad–, it was hard to manage. Magic, emotions, so they hired him to… help."
Sirius was leaning on the edge of the sofa, itching to reassure James, but knowing not how.
He chanced a look at the others, all of them listening to James intently.
The prince had his eyes fixed on the teacup in front of him, fiddling with the handle.
“He did some… things. Not exactly ethical. I suppose you can imagine. He…”
Marlene’s hand reached for James’, keeping it between hers under the table. Sirius felt inadequate, suddenly. He was good with violence, defending people in the line of fire. Never good enough with emotions, distress. He couldn’t help but envy Marlene’s easy confidence at comforting James.
“I don’t know. He studied me, is all. For years. He, uh, had a student with him sometimes. Someone he taught. We became friends, and after a while my friend tried to–, for years, my aunt Patty tried to get him sacked. She really disliked him. Not a clue why, really. I never told her anything about what we did in our sessions, Riddle made me promise. I don’t know, he was really charming, you see. For years I believed I was being whiny. That I should just follow along so I could get better, not embarrass the family. But once my friend found out what he was doing–, my friend told me that it was wrong. That he was hurting me for the sake of studying me, and then–, and then my friend disappeared. Shortly after that Riddle resigned,” he took a long breath, “That’s it, really. I have no idea why he came back, I don’t know what he wants,” he finished, somewhat desperately.
“Excuse me…” Sirius hesitated, “Is there… do you have nightmares about him? Bad memories, perhaps? When you’re trying to sleep?” he asked. Marlene and Lily shared a look between them. They knew what Sirius meant.
James still didn’t raise his eyes, but he nodded, a little jerkily.
Sirius’ mind was a mess. He was sure that the story was incomplete, but how could he ask more of James when he was so clearly discomfited by the details that he had shared?
One thing was clear, though.
Sirius was sure that the bouts of emotional magic were brought on by the memories of Riddle, plaguing the Prince’s mind in his nightmares.
‘You can imagine’, he’d said.
And oh, Sirius could imagine. His hands curled into fists, he could think of a thousand scenarios of what Riddle might have done to him. None of them good.
He faced Lily, who mouthed ‘wands’.
Riddle had ‘studied’ James, he had hurt him. And he’d used a wand to do so.
‘You are better than your rage, Sirius Black.’
“There’s no reason at all that you can think of why Riddle decided to–, come back?” asked Remus.
The prince shook his head.
“He was looking for a cloak,” Sirius provided.
“A cloak?” Lily echoed. “What kind?”
“Not a clue. Seemed important, he was verging on frantic when he demanded to know where it was. Before that he was the picture of control. He seemed to be enjoying himself, in fact,” explained Sirius, remembering once again the sadistic smile he’d worn when his companion shot the Cruciatus.
“But why go through all that trouble?” asked Lily. “He could have just–, I don’t know, sneaked in? Stolen it? And what type of cloak is it that he’d want so badly?”
“He’s dramatic like that,” James answered wryly. “He would never steal anything from the Crown and allow for it to be forgot, unremarkable.”
“You never told me about him,” Marlene said, sounding wounded. “Never. I’m sure of it.”
James finally looked up at her, pleading, “I’m sorry, truly I am. I just–, I’d rather not think about him at all. You had enough on your plate to worry abo–,”
“James Fleamont Potter,” Marlene snapped. “You absolute, hypocritical, you–,” she stood abruptly, still holding his hand. “I–, you–, I’d never–, you are not a burden!” she exclaimed.
“Hold on,” Sirius interrupted. “Fleamont?”
That broke through the atmosphere. Remus and Lily released snorts of tense laughter.
“Is that where you got stuck?!” Marlene asked him angrily.
Sirius bit back a groan, “Fleamont Potter?” he asked, looking at them meaningfully. Only looks of confusion in their faces.
“My dad’s name,” James said. “A nightmare, I know.”
“No, no. Well, yes, a little. But that’s not what I meant. Tell me, Mckinnon. Your family knew his?” Sirius knew he, doubtlessly, sounded mad to the rest, but his mind was reeling, a thousand kilometres per hour.
“Da was friends with the Potters for years, yes. What are you getting at?” she asked, puzzled.
“And where did they meet? Your parents?” Sirius asked. He needed to be right. He had to be right.
“I’m–, I’m not sure,” answered James. “The Mckinnons always lived close to the palace, I suppose.”
“They studied together,” Marlene said. “Da introduced Effie to Monty, remember? And mum lived not far from the palace too.”
“So your family, the Mckinnons, a notorious family in the Wizarding World, were friends with Fleamont Potter!” Sirius vibrated with excitement. He’d found the answer! “‘Potions, Pioneering and Period Pieces’!” he exclaimed.
“Sirius, have you finally lost it?” asked Lily.
“It’s a book,” Remus said.
“Yes! A book that features the accomplishments of Fleamont Potter, the inventor of the Sleakeazy hair potion!”
"Holy shit, I use that," Lily gasped.
"So does Sirius," Remus snickered.
"Whoa, Monty invented Sleakeazy?" marvelled Marlene. "Wait, Merlin's toes, Monty is a Potter Potter!" she exclaimed.
"Consider me completely lost," said James. "You knew this already, Marlsly dear. And about that potion… so what?"
"No, no, she's on the right track," Sirius smirked. "The Potters were, well, are I suppose, one of the pureblood families in our world. As the Mckinnons or the Weasleys, they were considered 'blood traitors'. Because they renounced the bigoted ways of many other pureblood families," he rushed to clarify. "But their history is important, I was–, well, when I was younger I was educated in the history of–, that's unimportant. The point is, if I'm correct, and I truly pray to Merlin and Morgana both that I am, then you are–,"
Marlene seemed to have caught up to Sirius' thinking, "that's a legend, Sirius," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just a bedtime story that people took too literally."
"Right, now I'm more confused," said Lily.
"Y'think it's a crazy-people thing or are they just throwing words around?" Remus said.
Marlene groaned, "Sirius seems to think that the cloak that Riddle is looking for is, in fact, one of the three Deathly Hallows. You know, from the story?"
"It's definitely both," Lily told Remus, completely ignoring Marlene.
"They're mental and they're throwing words around," agreed James, but he did turn to look at Sirius. "Si…rius," he started, "could you, uh, be more precise? I have a lot of questions right now."
Just like that, Sirius' heart melted. Poor James, surely he was confused as fuck right now, and he wasn't doing anything to literally teach him about his own family, his family's history.
He tried to slow down his thoughts, at least enough to explain more calmly.
"There's a story. You can read it later if you want. It's very popular. The important bit is that in the story, a man receives a gift from Death itself. The gift is a cloak of invisibility. The thing is, there are people who believe that that man was a real person who actually invented the cloak, charmed it himself. Many have tried, actually. And invisibility cloaks are a real thing, you can buy them, if you can find one, but the charms do not last very long, plus they're honestly ridiculously expensive."
"And that's coming from him," Lily snickered. "Richest bloke in our year."
Sirius felt his ears heat. Discussing his money wasn't Sirius' idea of fun. It was more on par with having his eyebrows plucked, actually.
"Anyway," he continued. "This man is believed to have been Ignotus Peverell. His brothers did some other shite too. Again, unimportant, for now. The curious thing about Ignotus' cloak is that it was supposed to be passed down, generation to generation."
"And that'd be impossible because the spells that make them invisible wear off," James finished for Sirius.
"Exactly." Sirius said, pride evident in his voice, he knew. For someone who treated Magical Theory as some dumb way to limit magical abilities, James was surprisingly receptive of the homework and readings he'd been given.
"I'm still lost, you know?"
"Me too," Lily and Remus said in unison.
"It's just a story," repeated Marlene.
"The Potters are direct descendants of the Peverells," Sirius said.
"Whoa, awesome. Small detail, however, I have no cloak of invisibility. Not even a teeny small one. Unless," he narrowed his eyes at Marlene, "have your fingers become sticky again, Marlsly dear mine?"
"No stolen cloaks, I promise," Marlene assured him.
"Somehow, the way you phrased that does not reassure me in the slightest. Anyway, Sirius, no cloak here," James said, "might be just a story. It does sound sort of fairytale-y, to be fair."
Oh.
Sirius' only hope was relying on James, and now he didn't believe him?
The facts added up, right?
"But, perhaps," Sirius started slowly, "Riddle attacked you because he believes the cloak is real, and in your possession. Regardless of its existence, I think... that's a possible explanation?"
"It's very probable, in fact," Remus piped.
The five of them sat in contemplative silence for a while, in Sirius' case trying to come up with a plan of action, preferably one that ended with Riddle burnt on the ground, but, more realistically, a little less violent. He didn’t believe James would appreciate it if he truly, physically burnt Riddle to the ground.
The prince and Marlene started speaking in low tones, until Marlene released a strange, almost nervous giggle, which brought the attention of their friends.
It wasn't that she giggled, she did that a lot, but the fact that it was so clearly forced and not at all like her usual boisterous, manic, gremlin laugh.
"I'm hallucinating," stated Lily.
"Marlene, what–, uh, what?" asked Remus, looking completely lost.
"Marlsly has something to say," James said, looking at Marlene as one would a very exasperating but ultimately lovely child.
"What do you know, Mckinnon?" asked Sirius, suspicious.
"I know nothing," she said. "I just might know someone who… does?"
"What are you saying?!"
"Well, when I apparated away from the fight I sort of–," her face contorted into a wicked grin, though she tried to hide it. "–took Meadowes with me?"
"And?!" Sirius urged. They knew this already! He chanced a look at James, who smiled at him softly, but the next second was staring at Marlene, almost as if checking she told the whole truth.
Not a bad call, actually.
"And we were fighting, and she really is a sneaky thing, you see, and you all know I'm not exactly proficient at offence, so I sort of… took her out."
"You killed her?!" Lily and Sirius asked in unison.
"You're twisted, you two," exhaled James. Sirius winked at him.
"I didn't kill her," Marlene scowled. "I just stupefied her a little. Strongly. And body-bound her. I suspect the spells have worn off by now, though," she finished, as if it was a simple matter. Over and done with, clap clap. Legend, Sirius thought.
"You are my hero," Sirius said, grinning at her. "I'm so proud."
"Mental, absolutely deranged. I mean it."
"Still doesn't explain," began Remus, but Sirius cut him off.
"What that's got to do with anything, true."
"Yeah. Who do you know who might know something?" Sirius could see the idea form in Lily's head, "Not Meadowes, surely! She attacked us! She won't say anything."
"Yes, well, ordinarily I'd say you're right, Evans, dear," said Marlene, who never once in her life had admitted such a thing. "But I happen to know where she is right now. And she might not be in a position to, uh, leave?"
James clapped his hands and pointed at Marlene accusingly, looking at the rest of them as if looking for allies, "and there it is!" he cried.
Sirius didn’t understand where 'there' was and what 'it' was.
This all sounded very convoluted and weird. As much as Marlene was known for her oddities, she always was quite straightforward in her speech. She might be confusing to people who tried to gauge a deeper meaning from her words, but Sirius always knew to take her at face value. And what her words were saying was that…
Lily seemed to have reached the same conclusion as him, for, suddenly, she screamed, "YOU KIDNAPPED HER?!"