James knows they aren't supposed to be out alone, and it's a good idea. It really is. It's the best way to keep everyone safe, but he doesn't feel particularly bound to it himself. There's a murderer on the loose, but James fully expects to be able to catch him if they cross paths. From what he understands, it's a Muggle and while Muggles can be strong in their own right he still has his wand and he's not expecting it to be much of a struggle to restrain the killer if he's attacked.
But, that's not why he's out.
The truth is, Remus has been missing for several days. His room is empty and any sign that he was ever around is gone. James has been here many times before though, so often that it's become routine. He waits, because if Remus comes back within a week or so he'll remember everything. It's been almost that long now, but the full moon will be tonight. He can't imagine how hard it would be to suddenly be pulled back to Wonderland and be forced to immediately deal with the full moon, no matter when in the month it was for him at home. So, he's doing one last sweep of the mansion, to make sure Remus hasn't turned up again and to ease his mind, though he knows he'll be tempted to look again when the moon comes out.
As he makes his way up the stairs, he catches something in the corner of his eye, down one of the halls. It's not Remus; it's a dark figure in gear James doesn't recognize, wielding a pickaxe. James freezes and stares, watching for a moment at the figure walks away. That's the murderer. It has to be.
He raises his wand, but before he can wonder if he can manage something non-verbally, the man stops.
And he turns.
And James is standing there, wand raised.
He can feel his blood run cold, and immediately regrets not taking his invisibility cloak with him, but it's a little late for regrets now. Instead, he hardens his expression and casts with a quick and swirled wand wave. Meanwhile, the stranger, now his attacker, is running toward him, weapon raised.
"Expelliarmus!"
It misses, though it does manage to knock some decorative things off the wall. But ultimately, it only shows exactly what his wand can do, and it doesn't slow the man down. James staggers backwards and up a couple of stairs, hoping to put some distance between them even if it has to be up and not away. It all happens very quickly though, quicker than James could have ever anticipated.
He raises his wand to try and disarm him again, but the stranger swings hard and the pickaxe digs into James' arm, at the elbow. The accompanying noise is sickening - bone being cracked and forced apart as the joint is separated with a quick twist. Sharp pain shoots through him and he cries out, dropping his wand as his hand goes limp.
The pickaxe is yanked away and James drops himself down to make a quick grab for his wand with his other hand, but with that move he loses any height advantage he had. This time when his attacker swings, the pickaxe strikes his shoulder - deep into his shoulder. Along with the crack of bone there's an audible pop, one James is familiar with from Quidditch accidents. But the pain is entirely different when there's an object lodged into the socket, forcing the separation from inside. And then it's ripped out and James feels something tear and it's agonizing. He sees blood when the axe is near his face.
He's breathing hard now, gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles are white because he can't lose it, not when he can't get another one. And this man in the strange uniform is looming over him, pickaxe raised.
For a moment, James is certain he's going to die.
But then in a desperate move, James shuts his eyes tight. There is a loud CRACK and then he's gone and the pickaxe is being swung at empty air.
The noise is equally loud when James appears suddenly in his room, but since he had originally been low to the stairs he appears in a similar position near his desk. It actually wasn't a bad attempt - he only missed sitting in his desk chair by about six inches, but he's far enough away that he quickly wavers and loses his balance. The chair knocks over and on his way down he tries to grab the desk with his uninjured hand to keep from falling. He can't do that and hold onto his wand though, and his efforts just make him scatter half the desktop parchment in the air.
He lands roughly, with a loud and pained groan, but then he just lays there and breaths heavily for a minute, still reeling from the adrenaline of the last minute or so and silently marveling in the fact that he's alive.
2/14 | James Potter | Closed to Sirius
But, that's not why he's out.
The truth is, Remus has been missing for several days. His room is empty and any sign that he was ever around is gone. James has been here many times before though, so often that it's become routine. He waits, because if Remus comes back within a week or so he'll remember everything. It's been almost that long now, but the full moon will be tonight. He can't imagine how hard it would be to suddenly be pulled back to Wonderland and be forced to immediately deal with the full moon, no matter when in the month it was for him at home. So, he's doing one last sweep of the mansion, to make sure Remus hasn't turned up again and to ease his mind, though he knows he'll be tempted to look again when the moon comes out.
As he makes his way up the stairs, he catches something in the corner of his eye, down one of the halls. It's not Remus; it's a dark figure in gear James doesn't recognize, wielding a pickaxe. James freezes and stares, watching for a moment at the figure walks away. That's the murderer. It has to be.
He raises his wand, but before he can wonder if he can manage something non-verbally, the man stops.
And he turns.
And James is standing there, wand raised.
He can feel his blood run cold, and immediately regrets not taking his invisibility cloak with him, but it's a little late for regrets now. Instead, he hardens his expression and casts with a quick and swirled wand wave. Meanwhile, the stranger, now his attacker, is running toward him, weapon raised.
"Expelliarmus!"
It misses, though it does manage to knock some decorative things off the wall. But ultimately, it only shows exactly what his wand can do, and it doesn't slow the man down. James staggers backwards and up a couple of stairs, hoping to put some distance between them even if it has to be up and not away. It all happens very quickly though, quicker than James could have ever anticipated.
He raises his wand to try and disarm him again, but the stranger swings hard and the pickaxe digs into James' arm, at the elbow. The accompanying noise is sickening - bone being cracked and forced apart as the joint is separated with a quick twist. Sharp pain shoots through him and he cries out, dropping his wand as his hand goes limp.
The pickaxe is yanked away and James drops himself down to make a quick grab for his wand with his other hand, but with that move he loses any height advantage he had. This time when his attacker swings, the pickaxe strikes his shoulder - deep into his shoulder. Along with the crack of bone there's an audible pop, one James is familiar with from Quidditch accidents. But the pain is entirely different when there's an object lodged into the socket, forcing the separation from inside. And then it's ripped out and James feels something tear and it's agonizing. He sees blood when the axe is near his face.
He's breathing hard now, gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles are white because he can't lose it, not when he can't get another one. And this man in the strange uniform is looming over him, pickaxe raised.
For a moment, James is certain he's going to die.
But then in a desperate move, James shuts his eyes tight. There is a loud CRACK and then he's gone and the pickaxe is being swung at empty air.
The noise is equally loud when James appears suddenly in his room, but since he had originally been low to the stairs he appears in a similar position near his desk. It actually wasn't a bad attempt - he only missed sitting in his desk chair by about six inches, but he's far enough away that he quickly wavers and loses his balance. The chair knocks over and on his way down he tries to grab the desk with his uninjured hand to keep from falling. He can't do that and hold onto his wand though, and his efforts just make him scatter half the desktop parchment in the air.
He lands roughly, with a loud and pained groan, but then he just lays there and breaths heavily for a minute, still reeling from the adrenaline of the last minute or so and silently marveling in the fact that he's alive.