At the flat in East London, Lily Evans let out a scream.

Remus and Sirius looked up.

Sirius had been mid-way through explaining what he'd learned from Frank Longbottom at the pub that afternoon, and Remus was asking questions, and Sirius was in the midst of defending himself from having not asked those particular questions, when suddenly, out of absolutely no where, Lily had screamed and doubled over on the couch, clutching at her chest.

"Evans?"

"Lily!"

"LILITH!"

"Lily, what's the matter?" Remus's voice was commanding and calm, good in the situation.

"LILITH ANSWER US DARLING!!!" Sirius's was the opposite.

"I -" Lily was shaking, "Oh gods. I don't know what's happening!" she was sobbing, "Oh gods, I don't know what's happening." She was on her knees, grabbing onto Remus, her eyes wild with concern and fear. "Help him."

"Help who?" Remus asked.

But Lily couldn't put words to what she was feeling... It didn't make sense... None of it made sense. She felt dizzy and sick, as though she could feel her heart beating in her head, and she clutched Remus for stability as he held her.

He looked up at Sirius in fear.

James had no plan. He had no idea what he was going to do, how he would do it, what he would accomplish, or how he would get out of the theater once he'd done whatever it was. He knew only one thing. Jasper Odair had been through enough - and he wasn't going to stand in the shadows of some manky old theater and watch Voldemort, the old wanker, put him through another moment of it.

He was on the stage before he'd fully processed any of what he was doing at all, tearing away the invisibility cloak.

He heard the gasp of the people in the audience because with the cloak off, they could see him as he came up behind Voldemort, who had not noticed his arrival yet, whose back was turned.

If only his back hadn't been turned, perhaps James could've finished him off that very night.

"Expelliarmus!" James waved his wand and the stick flew from the young death eater's hand, flying across the floor and skidding off under the seats.

Jasper swung over the stage, a living pendulum, and Voldemort turned about, whirling to face James with a look of surprise on his face. "Hullo again," James said, then raised his wand again. A force like a shove pushed Voldemort backward, making him stumble, but not actually fall. From the floor, Bellatrix let out a shriek of indignation and shot a spell at James that he neatly deflected with a swipe of his hand as he advanced again toward Voldemort.

People were screaming, spells flying from upraised wands that dotted the dark crowd, but somehow they all missed, the sparks screaming 'round him as James walked straight up, straight up to Voldemort himself and, looking him in those red horrible eyes, he slashed the air with his wand and the bindings 'round Jasper Odair and Benjy Fenwick released. Neither had far to fall to the floor.

Voldemort hissed.

Some spell hit James in the back and he was pushed forward, crashing into Voldemort, and the pair of them fell to the stage floor, James quickly rolling away before Voldemort had even really pieced together the fall.

Fabian Prewett pulled James up. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Potter?" he asked.

"Besides interrupting Voldemort's dastardly plans, that is?" Gideon, who was right behind his brother asked. They were back-to-back, tag-teaming, defensive spells flying from their wands. In the audience, there was a great disturbance halfway back through the seats where more spells were shooting from the midst - a path being cleared as Edgar Bones made his way through the throngs of death eaters, casting shields and stunners left and right.

"Stupefy!"

People were rushing for the doors of the theater, screaming, disapparating away with cracks and puffs of smoke. There were explosions and the left side of the loge exploded - a seat from the aisles up there fell with a crash to the stage and Fabian looked back at it. "It's gone chair borne!"

"Incredible!" Gideon said and with a wave of his wand, he'd slammed the seat into a throng of death eaters about to come up the stairs, knocking them back like bowling pins. He let out a guffaw and shouted, "Look at that, Fab, they've taken a seat."

Fabian laughed loudly.

The lights went out.

Suddenly it was pitch dark in the theater, save for a small patch of light that came through the open theater doors and the light cast from flying sparks as spells criss-crossed about.

There was another crash and a few voices let out cries of dismay that were just as suddenly silenced.

A firm hand grabbed onto the back of James's jumper, dragged him backward, and he shouted and flailed against it, everything still mostly in the dark, and there was a loud scream and a dark laugh, the lights flickered for a moment, everything was illuminated....

...theater seats blasted back...

...dispersing, frantic crowd...

...Edgar Bones leaping, midair, spells firing from his wand...

...Regulus Black's wild eyes as he ran past...

...a pale hand, adorned with ornate jewelry reaching across...

...Gideon Prewett shouting with pain...

...blood on the floor of the stage, blood in a pool beneath crumpled forms...

...and then it was dark once more.

And there was a tug behind his navel, a spinning, dizzying sensation, and the feeling of falling, crashing, landing on a hard floor. There were four thumps and a loud cracking noise that seemed to echo in James's head like a bad turn.

He lay still, waiting for the sensation to pass, breath shuddering and heavy.

Beside him, there was other, equally desperate breathing.

"Oh... oh what's happened now? Where - where are we? What is this?" the questions were sobbed, the voice trembling and thick, the words run together, but despite the way his shattered nose made him sound, Jasper Odair's words were still the most welcome sound James could imagine.

"Jas?" James wheezed, his breath knocked out of him, "Jasper? You alright?"

"I think we're all alright," came Regulus's voice. "Mother?"

"I am alright, Regulus," came a cold, satin voice.

James opened his eyes in disbelief.

Sure enough, it was Walburga herself kneeling beside James on the carpet... and more, James realized with a sick twist that he was laying on the carpet of the study on the second floor of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher?"

"Kreacher is being alright," came the trembling tone of the elf.

James was still staring at Walburga.

The floo lit green; and Walburga scrambled to her feet. "Kreacher, get them upstairs. Now."

Kreacher didn't hesitate and before any of the three boys could move, the elf had clicked his fingers and James found himself on a wooden floor among a mess of textbooks and quills, gobstones, socks and crumpled bits of parchment strewn about. A Slytherin jumper hung over a chair and a four post bed adorned with thick velvet green curtains stood in one corner.

"Scourgify," Regulus said, and James's eyes followed as the younger Black brother was hurrying about - cleaning his room - in such a mundane fashion, the juxtaposition of that to the insanity of the theater to the umeasy calm of the library...

James jumped up, suddenly frantic feeling, like the adrenaline was auto-powering him. "I have to get back there. Regulus. The others! They - we've got to to go back --"

Regulus hurried to block off the door. "Wait; stop it. We can't go back! Terrible idea! We got out! They were fending for themselves! And doing alright at it."

"No, Regulus, that isn't how the Order works. We don't abandon the rest when there's a fight on! That might be how Voldemort's supporters work but -"

"No, James - listen, that is how sanity works, alright? They are adults and they are trained aurors and -"

"I'm an adult, too, Regulus."

"No you're not, you're not a full one yet. You're still in training, you're still -- James! No, seriously, stop! You can't apparate in or out here first off and secondly listen to me - look. LOOK. We saved Odair, look! We can't go back, alright? The others were about to get out, too. They were just about to grab onto Benjy Fenwick and get the blast out of there. Seriously... Going back is pointless."

But James was frantic and the pair of them were matched up and James was pushing for the door. James was of course the stronger of the two - tall and muscular, he'd worked out during school because he took quidditch more seriously and now at the training center, too, it was required. Meanwhile Regulus was fierce the way the Black family was prone to be; and he had the upper hand of knowing the floorboards and the element of being firmly of sound mind. It said less about strength and more about the subtle wonky tilt of the floor when Regulus overpowered James and managed to slam him back against the wall, his forearm coming against James's chest to hold him in place. "Stop it," Regulus's tone was firm.

There was shouting downstairs.

Regulus's eyes met James's.

The fight went out of James suddenly - the worry in Regulus's face sinking in.

"There you are," Regulus murmured. He lowered his wand, and glanced about.

"Where are we anyway?" came Jasper's voice.

Regulus and James replied at the same time. "Don't worry, Odair." They gave each other funny looks at the unison, then Regulus added, "You're safe. We're just at my house."

"That's safe?" Jasper asked.

"Well, safer, at any rate," Regulus said.

The shouting was louder downstairs.

Regulus swore under his breath, then, "Listen. Both of you stay here, alright? I have to help Mother smooth this over. Do NOT leave this room, alright? I have spells set... you'll be safe in here. Really, stay here." He looker at James, "You can bandage Odair up. I'll take care of whatever is going on downstairs and we'll get you lot home in a jiffy. But you gotta trust me and stay here. Don't follow me. Just stay there." Regulus pulled back. "Understand?"

Warily, James nodded.

Regulus completely let go and took a couple steps back, reaching to straighten his jumper and quickly tossed his hair back to get it out of his face. He took a deep breath and tromped into the hallway.

Kreacher followed after him, frantic. "Master, Master Regulus, Kreacher is able to keep the Potter boy where he is if Master needs him not to move, Kreacher can keep him ummobilized for you until the Dark Lord can come and help Master --"

"Kreacher," Regulus rounded on the elf at the top landing of the stairs. He glowered at the elf, his nerves and his anger getting the best of him, "Kreacher! I command you to - to forget what's just happened."

There was a pause and Kreacher screwed up his face in a way that, at a normal time, might've made Regulus laugh. The poor elf's forehead broke into a sweat and he looked up at Regulus, his eyes wide and damp.

"But Kreacher can't be forgetting on command, how does Kreacher forget something on command?" he pleaded in a tiny, terrified voice.

Regulus felt horrid. He drew a deep breath. "Alright, sorry, nevermind. You're right. Um. Alright. Here. Think of it, then, think of everything that's happened."

Kreacher looked nervous.

"Go on. I command you to think of it."

Kreacher thought of it - again screwing up his face as though to show physically the action of thinking and Regulus smiled a bit sadly at the elf, at how much the elf wanted to please him, and how powerless the poor thing was for himself. Carefully, Regulus pressed his wand to the elf's temple and drew away the memory, shaking the trailing wisp from his wand so that it seemed to evaporate, like a tiny string of clouds, dissipating.

Kreacher stared up at Regulus, and a confused, empty sort of look came to his glassy eyes.

"Master... Master Regulus?" the elf asked.

Regulus nodded. "Kreacher, I'm glad to see you've come out of your cupboard."

"Out of - out of my cupboard?" Kreacher asked. He looked around the stairs, unsure how he'd gotten there.

"Yes," Regulus nodded. "I'm glad to see you've had a good nap. Sleeping the whole time Mother and I were gone. I'm glad to see you've rested."

"Yes... rested..." Kreacher murmured.

Regulus nodded, "Just waiting for our commands. Like a good elf. You've been very good, Kreacher."

Kreacher's ears lifted slightly, pleased to be called good.

Regulus drew a deep breath. "Remember, Kreacher, if anyone asks, that's what you've been doing, alright? And you've only just now come because I called you. Right here on the stairs. Yeah?"

"Yes, Master," Kreacher said, agreeing and nodding. "Kreacher came when Master Regulus called. Right here to the steps, Kreacher came to Master. As soon as Master called, Kreacher came to Master."

Regulus nodded, and he led the way down the stairs, satisfied that he'd pinned the loose end of his house elf, and stepped into Walburga's Library, allowing his face to turn from one of fear to steady, detached frustation. He walked into the room, with all the swagger he could muster.