The Marauders: Year Six Part 2 #Wattys2017

Blurry

Blurry

"Beg for mercy, Potter. Beg for your life."

James stood tall, his jaw set. His eyes met the red pupils of the Dark Lord, which glowed with expectation. Even though they were blurry, there was no mistaking them. "No." His voice did not shake.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Beg me to spare you, Potter."

James stared at him for several long moments, his vision impaired without his glasses. "No," he replied.

Voldemort's lips curled up. "I could kill you! I could kill you so easily. You don't even have your wand!" the Dark Lord hissed. "You don't have any defense!"

James said, "You can't kill me."

"Why couldn't I?" Voldemort demanded. "I am more than capable!"

James smiled, "You're not."

"OF COURSE I AM!" he shouted. Then, regaining his composure, he took a deep breath and leaned extremely close to James Potter's face and he whispered, "Do you dare to challenge the Dark Lord?"

James said, "It's just that you need me in order to do whatever stupid thing it is you've got planned to attempt to take over the world this week. I'm obviously like... bait or something... so you're not going to hurt me. If you do, your whole plan goes to shit, doesn't it?"

Voldemort stared at him, face turning redder and redder with every word.

Because it was true.

Because as much as he wanted to retaliate with the killing curse just to prove to James Potter that he was wrong, he could not.... Because James Potter was right.

"Throw him in a cell," Voldemort hissed coldly, turning quickly, his hands shaking with anger.

And James was grabbed by both his arms and dragged away. A sort of sack was put over his head to keep him from seeing where they were going with him and he kicked and tried to wrench himself away, though he wasn't entirely certain what he would do even if he did manage to free himself from the grasp of the people who held his elbows. Wandless, there wasn't much he could do.

He wished he'd put his wand in his robes before going to the Yule Ball now. Wished he hadn't left it on his bloody nightstand. Where the hell was Sirius to remind him to grab it now?

Bloody hell. Sirius.

They'd been fighting.

If something happened to him now, Sirius would have a horrible go of it - knowing they'd been fighting. But then, Sirius had winked at him when he came to the table. There had been forgiveness vibes passed between them. Hopefully those would be enough to make Sirius know things were alright.

After all he'd brought Evans over.

Oh gods, Evans.

Evans, who thought herself a jinx, who was so bleedin' afraid to tell him that she liked him because she thought herself a jinx, who was about to tell him, whose next words were literally going to be that she cared for him.... And then this.

He wanted to go to her, to tell her it wasn't her fault. To tell her that it was a coincidence. To tell her not to blame herself because she would certainly do that if he didn't tell her.

James struggled against his captors again.

But there was nothing he could do.

Except he could go stag.

He truly considered it. After all, that would give him antlers. He could stab whoever was holding him with those glorious things, spear them right in the heart and run. Run like hell.

But where?

Where was he? How far from Hogwarts? They hadn't disapparated, but they had travelled. He could tell because as cold as the grounds to Hogwarts had been, it was now much colder and the air was thinner. He'd been blindfolded then, too. The last telltale thing he'd seen was Hogwarts silhouetted against the sky before the Black Lake and the moon, a backdrop to Voldemort's red eyes... and then his glasses had been taken off his face and everything had become blurry and hard to see anyway, but then the sack had been put over his head as well and seeing was utterly hopeless beneath it.

The next thing he'd seen, after their travel in the boat, had been Voldemort's red eyes again, blurry, but still recognizable, but this time in a dark room whose details had been lost to him in his the inability to see properly and would have been anyway in his attempt to stay calm in the face of what he'd thought was his death.

In his defiance.

Suddenly the sack covering his head was removed and James was immediately thrown forward by the two strong arms. He hit the floor, skidding across the stone. He sat up and looked back, the dimly lit room was even harder to see through, a torch flickering outside cast a sad orange glow against shadowed stone... but James could see the bars, thick iron things that extruded from the ceiling all the way to the floor. He heard the door clang shut and heard the lock... heard his captors feet fade away into the dark.

"Hullo?" he called, straining his ears to see if there was anyone else there, anyone at all. "Hullo? Is there anybody out there? Hullo?"

But not a single reply came.

"It says you're going to go to prison," Peter had said once, looking at the cast of his crystals.

They'd all made fun of him for it.

James included.

Even with the dreams he'd been having he still made fun of it.

And now, here he was. In a prison. In a cell.

Just like he'd dreamed.

He dragged himself to the wall and felt about 'til he'd found a corner to wedge his back against and he leaned and held onto the stone, desperate for anything solid to reassure him that there were still things out there that were certain. His breath shook.

Was this Azkaban?

Were there dementors about to come through the dark and try to kiss him?

Not exactly the kiss he'd expected to receive when he'd been standing on the dock the second before that reducto had been cast.

Tears threatened him and he shook his head and closed his eyes.

Severus Snape opened his eyes.

Morning sun was coming in through the window and cutting a fuzzy trapezoid across the ceiling.

"You're awake."

He looked over. Everything was blurry.

Green eyes stared back. Brilliantly green eyes. His heart nearly stopped. Even though they were blurry, but there was no mistaking them.

"Lily," he said quickly, sitting up and grabbing her hand, "Lily!"

She looked at him funny.

"I missed you so much, you have no idea how much I've been thinking of you!"

Her brow furrowed, "Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright! I'm great! Grand! I'm here, aren't I? And so aren't you! Whyever wouldn't I be alright, Lily?"

Lily tilted her head, "Oh... I dunno, Potter, because you never call me Lily? Not even once that I can recall?"

Severus paused.

"Here's your glasses, by the way," Lily said, and she reached into her pocket and produced a pair of thick black frames.

She slid them onto his face and suddenly he could see.

The polyjuice was working.