Trust and Betrayal
By: JA_Japster
Inspired and partially based on the OAV "Samurai X"
Copyright Notice: Harry Potter is copyrighted to J.K Rowling and Samurai X and Rurouni Kenshin is copyrighted to Nobuhiro Wazuki and Shueisha Jump Comics. The fanfiction is the product of JA_Japster and should not be reproduced in any fashion without permission.
Betrayal
Part III: Shedding His Past
There are too many people, Harry thought as he and Hermione made their way through the busy marketplace. Around them, dozens upon dozens of traders stood behind their wooden booths hawking their goods, everything from the freshest catches of fish to the latest fashionable clothing. He disliked crowded places. An assassin could hide far too easily amidst a sea of strange faces, stealthily approaching to hex you while your back was turned. His eyes flashed rapidly from person to person as they approached, his fingers never straying too far from his concealed wand.
Hermione noticed this and jabbed Harry subtly in the ribs. He winced and looked at Hermione who gave him a warning look. He nodded understandingly, and tried his best to act casual. It was difficult. Even though they were miles away from London and the Ministry, he still could not feel perfectly safe. Any of these new faces might be a possible threat to him and Hermione.
"Honestly, Harry. You can relax." Hermione said after they broke free of the crowd and were making their way down the beach. "They're muggles. They're not going to try to kill us."
He ignored her. "My orders are to protect you."
"And you're acting so inconspicuous right now." Hermione retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Harry flushed red, realizing she was probably right. Slowly, he allowed his hands to relax at his side. Hermione grinned encouragingly. "See? That's better."
Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and continued walking down the beach. When Harry looked at her questioningly, she nonchalantly replied, "We're a married couple, right? We should start acting like one."
"How do married couples behave?" Harry asked as they continued their stroll, only now holding hands.
"I don't know. Think about how your parents acted."
Harry frowned. "I never knew my parents. They both died when I was young."
Hermione grimaced, regretting her question. "I'm sorry." She said quickly. "I didn't know."
He shrugged indifferently. "I know you didn't. I never told you before."
"Well, often time muggle couples hold hands or touch each other." Hermione explained.
Harry looked confused. "That doesn't make any sense. How does touching one another communicate love?"
She laughed. "Actions sometimes speak louder than words. My father once told me that words are just noises in the air until they are transformed into actions. An action like the touch of one human to another helps display their affection to one another."
The raven-haired wizard suddenly pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulder. She stifled a gasp of surprise, not having expected that. Her surprise quickly gave way to elation, however, and she made no move to pull away. Harry looked down at. "Something like that?" He asked.
Hermione smiled. "Yeah. Something like that."
Jerome's instructions concerning the whereabouts of a boat rental had eventually led them down to the beach where inevitably all business was transacted in the Fisherman's Village. The shore was the soul of the village, where people from miles around came to meet together to trade or share the latest gossip, and today was no exception. Scores of people either were sprawled on the sand or were frolicking in the surf, enjoying the morning sun. Harry had stopped a few locals to ask some quick questions, and they had pointed them in the direction of a small cottage a half mile to the south.
"It doesn't look too impressive." Harry heard Hermione mutter when they found the cottage in question, and he could not help but agree with her. It had definitely seen better days. A knock on the door produced no answer.
"I wonder if no one is home." Harry mused aloud after a few moments. As if on queue, however, the door suddenly sprang open, barely missing Harry's face. A man with the most brilliant white hair either of them had ever seen poked his head out of the door, and grinned when he saw the two.
"Hello there." He said, emerging from the house. The man was young, probably no older than thirty, and unlike the rest of the fisherman who sported darker tans, his skin was unusually pale. He was dressed in loose floppy leathers that seemed endemic to the village, and Harry made it a point to purchase some as soon as possible. He and Hermione stuck out wearing the same traveling leathers they had worn since leaving London.
"Hi." Grunted Harry, rubbing his nose to make sure it was still on. The other man scratched his head sheepishly.
"Sorry about that." He said. "I was in the back room and uh…well anyway, my name is Janus O'Meara, assistant operator of this fine facility."
Hermione almost laughed, but contained herself. Harry quickly intervened. "My name is James and this is Lilly. We're new to the area, and looking to try our hand in the fishing business."
Janus smiled warmly. "Fishing huh? Well, you came to the right place. Jerome told me you would be stopping by. Evans is that right?"
Harry nodded hesitantly. There was something about the way the white haired man had said, "Evans," that unnerved him, as if the name meant something to him. "I was curious if you might have a boat for rent."
"That I do." Janus said. "Not the finest vessel you'll find in England, but for a beginner angler like yourselves it should be more than suitable for your needs."
Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "How do you know we were beginners?"
The fisherman grinned boyishly. "Ah, you can tell those sorts of things once you've been on the sea long enough. Now then, I can get you suited up with a boat by as early as tomorrow morning if you'd like."
"That'd be great." Harry replied. "How much do I owe you?"
Janus waved his hand dismissively. "We'll work something out later. Well, I got some work I need to attend to." He tipped an imaginary hat in Hermione's direction. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Lilly. James."
And with that he was gone.
--
"I thought he was a very nice man." Hermione remarked after they had returned to the privacy of their cabin. Harry frowned in disagreement. "What is with you, Harry?" She asked irritably.
"There's something about him that I don't trust." Harry said lamely.
"You're being paranoid." Hermione said as she reached down and selected one of the many pairs of clothing that she and Harry had purchased from the market place. Satisfied, she retreated behind a makeshift curtain that they had set up and began changing.
Harry quickly looked away from the suggestive shadows that suddenly appeared behind the curtain. Trying to keep distract himself from it, he said, "He spoke as if he knew the name Evans."
"So?" Hermione's voice carried over to him.
"Lilly Evans was my mother's name. James Potter was my fathers. "
"Evans is a common name, Harry. Maybe he knew a different Evans." She reappeared from behind the curtain, now dressed in clothing not dissimilar to what most of the other fisherman's wives wore. It was nicely tailored blouse and skirt that seemed to accentuate her trim form. Harry thought it looked very nice on her.
"Maybe." Harry said reluctantly. "But if there's even the slightest chance that he recognized me for who I really am…"
"Harry, he's a muggle." Hermione argued. "I didn't feel any magic resonating from him. Neither did you. Muggles do not know about wizards and witches, therefore there is no possibility Janus might know about us and the Order."
"But did you see how he waved aside the issue of payment? Hermione, I have never met a muggle who didn't care about money."
"People might just be nicer here." She protested unwavering.
"I'm just saying it's a possibility."
"And there's a possibility Death Eaters have followed us every step of the way from London. You need to learn how to relax."
"The only reason why we're still alive is because I haven't relaxed." Harry muttered bitterly.
She smiled at him and touched his arm. "And I appreciate that, Harry. I really do. I just don't see any reason to be afraid of an albino Irishman. That's all."
Harry sighed and went to change. After he finished, he saw Hermione was holding a pair of metal objects that resembled sheers to cut sheep's wool only smaller. He recognized them as something muggle's called scissors and was used to cut people's hair. But there was nothing wrong with Hermione's hair. Why would she need a pair of scissors for anyway? Unless…
"Oh no, you're not touching my hair." Harry objected firmly, raising his arms up to impede Hermione's approach.
"You don't see other guys wearing their hair long." Hermione reasoned. It was true, but Harry was not about to admit that. He backed away from her, and Hermione followed.
"I like my hair the way it is."
"It looks silly. My mother taught me how to do this. It'll look fine." She pleaded.
"No."
"Stop being a baby."
"I'm not being a baby. I just don't want you touching my hair with a pair of sharp sheers."
All of a sudden Hermione lunged, intending on knocking Harry over, but he was ready. With practiced ease, he grabbed her wrist and used her momentum to throw her on the bed. Before he could stop, however, he found himself following through the familiar steps, twisting Hermione's wrist behind her back until the scissors fell from her grasp, and pinning her body into the bed with his own.
The springs in the bed squeaked.
Warmth…
A very uneasy silence filled the air.
Pleasure…
"Uh…Harry? I can't breathe." Hermione gasped.
Reluctance…
Realizing how wrong this would look if someone accidentally stumbled upon them, Harry quickly got off of Hermione, his face involuntarily blushing a shade of magenta he didn't even think he was capable of. Hermione rose off of the bed, her face also unusually red. She shook her wrist out, flinching as if it hurt.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked with concern.
Hermione grinned wickedly, mischief flashing in her hazel eyes. "I might be…if..." She gestured to the fallen pair of scissors.
Harry groaned, but defiantly said, "You are not cutting my hair, Hermione."
Twenty minutes later, and with hair cascading before his eyes, Harry groaned again, wincing with each methodical snip that the scissors made as Hermione went to work. A pile of black hair covered the floor, hair that had once been his. He stared at it mournfully.
"It doesn't look bad at all." Hermione assured him. "Your hair grows so quickly I'll doubt if you even miss it."
That was also true, but Harry refused to take solace in that fact, fuming silently. She had taken his hair! His hair! He never thought of himself as vain, but there was something wrong in the world when a woman could so easily subdue a man into taking something that he valued. He touched the top of his head, his fingers moving delicately where his hair had once grown in a long ponytail.
"Here's a mirror." Hermione said, glaring impatiently whenever Harry scowled or flinched. He took it, and glanced at his reflection.
It really doesn't' look bad.
It looked pretty much the same, only shorter and neater. He ran his fingers through it. It even felt the same.
"Not so bad is it?" Hermione asked rhetorically.
Harry returned the mirror, and answered, "No. You were right. I'm sorry I doubted you."
"Forgiven. See, you should stop doubting my opinion all the time. I do occasionally know what I'm talking about, you know."
"You're referring to Janus I take it."
"Of course. We found someone who can help us out in the village. It seems foolish to just toss him aside because he's a bit odd."
Harry sighed resignedly. As much as he hated to admit it, Hermione was probably correct, just as she was increasingly gaining the tendency to be. He could not put aside the discomfort that the man created in him, but for Hermione's sake at least he could ignore it for the moment. "Yeah, you're right."
--
After the two new comers had left, Janus quickly rushed out of sight behind the cottage and collapsed on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. The pretense of normalcy had been hard to maintain. Tears filled his eyes, streaming down his cheeks and mixing with the sweat that soaked his body. He inhaled painfully, trying to regain control of himself, but the more he tried the harder it seemed to take his next breath. After what seemed to last an eternity, he crawled and leaned against his back against the cottage.
I knew it…He thought sadly. He's Potter's child. He looks just like James…except for his eyes. He has Lilly's eyes.
With trembling hands he fumbled for a cigarette and quickly lit, letting the slow burn relax his troubled mind and soul. Just seeing the boy brought back painful memories again. His resemblance to James was stunning, as if it was the man himself reincarnated and walking the earth once again. Janus wondered vaguely if the boy knew the truth about his parents' death, and if that was why the son of Potter had finally found him.
They're coming back for me. Lilly and James Potter deserve their revenge And I deserve to die.
Author's Notes:
Quick short update. Right in the middle of semester finals right now. Hardly getting any sleep these days. Gah. Not fun. Can't wait until I graduate and go to college where more lengthy exams and papers await me. Oh wait a minute…
Thank you to all those who reviewed!