James Potter jerked awake. It was one in the morning. He had been asleep for a bit more than four hours.
Something was wrong. He could feel it, just as he could feel beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, just as he could feel how sore he was, how tired he was.
He needed sleep. But, James knew one thing - sleep would not come to him again tonight.
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Lily Evans ran as fast as she could down the Parisian streets, her sneakers squeaking on the wet pavement. He had seen her, she knew it. She had blown her mission.
She was breathing hard, terrified. He probably could feel her heart beating through the humid air.
What she didn't know, is how she, the hunter, had all of a sudden become the hunted.
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James couldn't sleep. He restlessly paced his London flat. Out of ideas, he flipped on the light, and dug in his closet for his broomstick. He began to polish it, with rapid strokes.
It wasn't helping.
Something was wrong. Something he couldn't place.
He put the broomstick down, the small polished area gleaming in the dim light. He opened the trunk at the foot of his bed, searching through it for a hint, a clue, as to what was bothering him.
Memories floated out with the objects in the trunk. An old Snitch that didn't fly anymore here, a tuft of werewolf hair there. Old photographs.
Old photographs. Memories.
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It was midnight. Lily was hiding in the corner of the old abandoned warehouse, under an Invisibility Cloak, watching as one of the most influential wizards in France, Jean-Paul Dante, held out his left forearm.
Another wizard was there, a tall man with steely gray eyes, and white-blond hair. He waved his wand over Dante's arm, and whispered an incantation. As Lily watched, the Dark Mark blazed across Dante's arm, furious and dark.
Lily silently gasped.
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James continued to grope aimlessly through the trunk. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. He didn't even know why he was still looking.
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The blond man spoke. He was obviously British. "Jean-Paul Dante, you are now under the service of the Dark Lord. When you feel this mark burns, you must go to the Dark Lord. Your allegiance is no longer to France. You must now only obey the Dark Lord. He is your master."
"My master," Dante echoed.
Lily shivered. The room felt colder. Her worst fears were confirmed.
Jean-Paul Dante, the most powerful businessman in France, was a servant to Voldemort.
France was in grave danger.
"Monsieur Dante," the blond man said, "You are certain there is no one here?"
"Oui," Dante replied. "No one."
The blond man looked around. "Excellent."
He snapped his fingers. Out of the shadows, two more men appeared. They were burly, large.
The blond man snapped, "When we leave, destroy this building."
The men grunted an affirmation. Lily crouched deeper into her corner. For the first time that night, Lily felt fear. The blond man and Dante apparated away, with loud cracks. The two large men looked around the warehouse. One man muttered an incantation, and oil spewed from his wand, slick and black. Lily moved out of the way, when a spurt of it headed in her direction. The other man lit a match. He dropped into the oil. The black splotches on the floor and walls of the warehouse burst into violent flame.
The wooden warehouse was doomed.
They cackled, and apparated away.
Lily waited a moment. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her panicked body. She waved her wand to apparate, but the spell failed. There was no cracking noise.
She gasped. Someone had put an anti-apparition ward on the warehouse.
Thick black smoke began billowing around her. She knew she would suffocate or burn alive within minutes. Not wanting to choose between those options, Lily crouched in her corner, low to the ground, surrounded by dancing flames. She took a breath of precious oxygen.
The wooden walls surrounded her. That was it, she realized. Using her wand, Lily blasted a section of a wall through. It gave surprisingly easily. She stumbled over the rubble, out of the burning building. Her Invisibility Claok had slipped off. It was sooty. She clutched it to her body, still shaking with panic. Lily coughed once, twice.
She glimpsed a man in the shadows, watching her. Moonlight glinted off of his sandy brown hair. He glimpsed her; their eyes held contact for a second.
Dante.
The blond man was there. He had yet to see her. Lily knew his presence bought her time. Dante would not want to reveal the slip-up in his secret ceremony.
She, the slip-up, ran.
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James felt the bottom of his trunk. He reached, and felt something else. More photographs.
He pulled them out. He instantly realized why they were at the bottom of his trunk.
Lily was in them.
Lily.
He stared at one of them, a group picture. It had been after they had started dating, in his seventh year at Hogwarts. His arm was leisurely around her waist. She was laughing about something he had just said. He kissed her on the cheek. The sequence of motion began again.
That was it. That's what was wrong.
Lily was in danger.
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She got to her flat in Paris. Sleep was risky. It made her vulnerable. Lily caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She was dirty and sooty. She craved hot water against her skin, stripping it of its impurities. But in her line of work, cravings were never satisfied.
She was Lily Evans, masquerading as Chief Assistant to the Magical Ambassador from Great Britain to France. She was really Lily Evans, spy for the Order of the Phoenix. Lily had gone through rigorous training. She was an expert fighter, a master-of-disguise, more skilled than most Aurors.
A shower was completely out of the question.
Lily threw powder onto the fire. It glowed for a minute and turned green. She knelt before it, stuck her head in, and yelled, "Eighty-three Wood Hollow Lane!"
Her tired knees ached already from the stone floor by the fireplace.
"Moody!" she called.
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James did the only thing he could do under the situation. He apparated to Sirius's flat.
"Sirius!" he shouted, from the living room/kitchen area.
Silence answered him. James frantically headed to the bedroom. He knocked on the door, and entered.
"Padfoot," he muttered, "You'd better be decent."
Sirius was anything but decent. He was lying in bed, his arm lazily around a voluptuous blond. James rolled his eyes. He went to Sirius's side of the bed, and shook him.
"Padfoot," James whispered. "Padfoot!"
Whispering was not working.
"Sirius!" James shouted in his ear.
"Bugger! What in bloody hell?" Sirius yelled.
"Sirius, what's going on?" the blond murmured sleepily. She looked over James appreciatively.
James tried to be a gentleman and avert his eyes from her naked breasts.
"James, you do realize that it is almost two in the fucking morning?" Sirius grumbled.
"Sirius, you do realize I wouldn't be here unless it was important?" James responded.
"Sirius," the blonde mumbled, "why is he here?"
Sirius groaned. "It's a surprise, sweetheart."
"A threesome?" she asked. "Kinky."
"No!" Sirius and James exclaimed together.
James said, "Get a dressing gown on, and meet me in the living room."
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"Moody!" Lily hissed.
"Who's there?" Alastor Moody barked. His beady eyes stared at the fireplace.
"Lily!" Lily replied quickly. "Lily Evans."
Moody looked at her expectantly.
"The blue fox is on top of the green henhouse," Lily said. It was their password.
Moody nodded. "It is you."
"The red hen has been eaten by the snake," Lily added.
Moody understood immediately. The phrase meant her cover had been blown.
"Keep her eggs warm," he said.
Lily knew exactly what to do next.
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James was frantically pacing the room when Sirius walked in.
"Prongs, what's the matter?"
"It's Lily," James muttered sheepishly.
"Lily Evans?" Sirius asked. "James, you haven't even seen her since Hogwarts. She's been in Paris these past four years!"
"She's in trouble," James said.
"How do you know?"
James stopped pacing. He whirled to face Sirius. "I just know, ok? I don't know why!"
"Sirius Black!" suddenly boomed Alastor Moody's face in the fireplace.
Sirius and James raced over to the fire.
"Moody!" James exclaimed.
"Both of you, to the henhouse! Now!" Moody commanded loudly. He disappeared from the fireplace.
James and Sirius apparated to 83 Wood Hollow Lane immediately.
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The meeting room at 83 Wood Hollow Lane was filled with worried faces. Moody stood at the head of the table in the center of the room, waiting for everyone to arrive.
"What's going on?' James wondered, when he and Sirius arrived.
"I don't know," Sirius answered, still in his dressing gown and boxers.
They took their seats anxiously. Moody loudly tapped his wand on the table. The room, full of the best of the Order of the Phoenix, fell silent.
"Moody, you are aware that it is two in the morning," someone grumbled.
Moody silenced him with a glare.
"This is a matter of utmost importance," Moody said. "Our contact in France, Lily Evans, has been in Paris for four years now."
"Lily," James whispered softly.
Moody continued, "She has been posing as the Chief Assistant to the Magical Ambassador from Britain to France. Tonight, she snuck into an abandoned warehouse, and witnessed Jean-Paul Dante becoming a Death Eater. Dante is one of France's most influential men. He saw her there tonight. Miss Evans escaped, but her cover has been blown. She will not be able to report to work this morning. Dante will have her killed the moment he finds her. And make no mistake, unless we intervene, he will find her. If he finds her, she will die. This cannot be allowed to happen."
Marlene McKinnon raised her hand. "How do we help her?"
Moody responded, "She will need to go into hiding for the time being, with a bodyguard."
He waved his wand over the table. A smaller version of Lily Evans appeared above the table.
"Potter," Moody informed the group, "I've chosen you to be Miss Evans's bodyguard."
"Me?" James sputtered.
"Yes," Moody said firmly. "You're an Auror, and you're specially trained in witness protection. Who else can I assign?"
"Sirius," James pointed out.
Moody laughed. "Sirius is needed here, James. You have no choice in the matter. I'm sorry."
"Moody, you don't understand," James argued, "I'm the last person you want in charge of keeping Lily Evans alive."
"I'm expecting you to put aside any personal feelings you may have for Miss Evans," Moody said. "She is your new mission. Don't screw this up, Potter."
"Yes, sir," James grumbled, knowing he had no other options.
"All right," Moody said, "Potter, you and Evans will go to a safe house in France. I've already made arrangements for a Portkey. First thing tomorrow morning, Hestia, as our contact at the Ministry, you must make arrangements so it looks as though Lily Evans has been transferred to the Department of Mysteries. Make all the records show that she has become an Unspeakable. That way, no one will question why they haven't seen her. Black, you and Baker need to apprehend Dante as soon as possible. Evans is his only weakness and he will do anything to make sure You-Know-Who doesn't find out."
Everyone nodded.
"James, stay behind for further briefing. The rest of you are dismissed."
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It was eight in the morning. Lily tucked a strand of her newly blond hair behind her left ear. Her bright green eyes, shielded by mirrored sunglasses, were heavy with worry. She adjusted the muggle clothing she was wearing. Lily easily blended in with the students milling around Montmatre. They were in-between classes at the Sorbonne, chatting at cafés and sipping coffees. She stopped at a crêpe vendor and ordered her favorite - bananas and nutella - in flawless French. She chatted with him amicably.
It was a deceivingly beautiful day, bright and sunny. Her trainers squeaked slightly on the pavement.
"Merci beaucoup," she told the vendor politely.
He smiled at her. She smiled back.
Lily caught a reflection of herself in the window of a shop. As a blonde, she was unrecognizable, unnoticeable. She adjusted her sunglasses, and nibbled on her crêpe. A bit of Nutella oozed onto her finger. She licked it off.
She eyed every person who passed her on the street, making sure no one was particularly interested in her. She occasionally disappeared into shops, watching to ensure that no one was following. Lily was careful; she could not risk being recognized.
Suddenly, familiar arms crept around her waist from behind. She felt warm breath on her ear.
He nibbled on her ear lovingly, while she tried to study.
"Stop!" Lily said, not really meaning it. "You're supposed to be studying."
He resembled a puppy that had messed up a rug. "How can I concentrate when you look so pretty?"
She blushed. "I thought I told you that flattery was useless."
He looped his arm lazily over her shoulders and grinned. "I'm selfish. I just like to see you blush."
Lily laughed. "You're incorrigible."
"Of course," he replied. "You wouldn't have me any other way."
Lily gasped. "You!"
"You know," he murmured, "I liked you better as a redhead."