What I Wouldn't Do (A James Potter FF)

Pieces of Nightmares and Clumsy Boys

Halloween 1960

Their baby wouldn't stop crying, and Bea didn't know what to do. Johnathan was out for the evening, helping his parents with a leak in their roof, and so she was left to spend a quiet evening at home. Bea hadn't minded the arrangement. After all, she had the sweetest baby in the world.

From the moment she'd first entered the world on a blisteringly chilly November morning, Ava hadn't cried once. She'd made noises of course. Sounds of discontentment, of hunger, or frustration. She'd made coo's of happiness when her father would carry her about, flying her around the room as if she were a witch on a broom. She'd even laughed when Johnathan's mustache had tickled her little downy cheeks.

Ava was the sweetest baby, her mother had always proclaimed rightly. So, Bea had thought that this would be like every other evening. She'd thought that she would put Ava down for her sleep, and then have a calm evening with a warm cup of tea and a good book. But, that was not to be the case.

She kept screaming. And screaming. And screaming.

"It's alright. It's alright darling. Mummy's here. Mummy loves you, little bird. She loves you so much."

It wasn't until the clock struck midnight, marking the start of November, and the end of October 31st, that Ava finally fell into a restful sleep. 

Bea felt relief that it was all over, and that she'd gotten her peaceful baby back. 

At least until the next year. 

 Halloween 1969

The storm outside raged on, wiping away forgotten decorations that lit the doorsteps of neighbors who'd long since retired to bed. The rain pounded on the roofs of homes, their echoing thuds hitting like stones. It seemed as if the sky itself was falling, the signal of something being destroyed and meeting a terrible ending. It sounded like the end of the world, disturbing the dreams of those below. In a home by the sea, a little girl was tossing and turning in her sleep. Her sandy blond hair had become twisted and tangled, creating a halo about her that gently emanated whenever a strike of lighting flashed through the window, revealing her small, troubled form.

Her whimpers were drowned out by the crashing of the water on the shore and the rattling on the windowpane just beside her bed. No other sound emitted in the house. The other two inhabitants of the small dwelling, remained in the world of nod, ignorant of the turmoil just down the hall.

Tears streaked down the small girl's face, and her entire body began to quiver in fear. She felt nothing but fear for not only herself, but for those who were hers. She'd never been so afraid, not even when she'd been told her parents were never coming home. It was the kind of fear that would freeze a lesser person in their tracks, but instead, it filled this tiny person with such grief. The tremors shook the bed, causing it to creak against the wooden floorboards of the cottage.

"No," she whimpered, still lost in a nightmare. "No. He found us. How did he find us?"

She turned over in the bed, back and forth, until she flushed flat against the mattress. Her arms came down at her sides, stiff and her muscles trembled as if they were straining to move, but were being forced back by an unseen entity. Then, her feet kicked out, as if trying to find steady ground. It was as if someone had her pressed against a wall, and she was unable to get away. But she tried. She tried so hard to get away.

"No. James. James. No." her sobs were not those of a girl of nine, but of a woman who had an entire life to fight for. "Not Harry. Please. Please not Harry. Have mercy. Not Harry."