On a Mission

James put one arm around Susan to help support her, looking curiously at the baby girl. He was relieved that the infant seemed to be unharmed.

"I don't know much myself," James replied to her query, gazing at the rubble which used to be Sparks, "I didn't see it happen. I was having a quiet drink at the Leaky Cauldron, when a witch ran in shouting that everyone had been killed. I arrived here to find Sparks aflame with Fiendfyre, and the Minister battling it alongside a couple others. Khaat has been kidnapped, it seems, and according to Jack, Nemo has been abducted as well."

James was surprised at how calm his voice sounded...almost dispassionate. However, there was some quaver to his next comment, "Thaor is dead. Saw him burn up protecting Michael."

James took a deep breath, and expelled it, wishing that all his worries could be blown away with it. At that time, there was a shout, and Edward ran towards the sound. Before following him, James turned to Susan putting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"Perhaps you should go to St Mungos. You can get your injuries taken care of, and perhaps they'll look over the child as well. You never know. She could have family there, thinking her dead. Don't worry about things here, we can keep it under control until you get back."

Elijah shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other, infinitely pleased to no longer be near the fire but still unconsciously aware of the heat and the flame that was engulfing Sparks not a mile down the street. Glancing over at Jess, Elijah suddenly felt very young but reminded himself that he had seen worse, done worse and had far worse dealt to him. Yet once again Khaat was gone and though this seemed to be relatively normal now, it still brought the hackles up on Elijah’s back and he found himself aware of the only place she could be. The only place that the Death Eaters would take her and keep her quietly, a place they had inhabited since the 90’s.

But that was too easy, wasn’t it?

Breaking from his thoughts, Elijah looked at Robert. He swallowed hesitantly before bringing his arms behind his back, thoughts already formulating in his head with regards to Khaat. He had friends, best friends, within the Death Eater faction. If it was a Death Eater that took her, which it was if the spell in the sky was anything to show for, then they would make quick work of locating her. Elijah had been looking for a way to pardon Athena Goyle and this was it, he knew. Glancing at Jess once more, Elijah took a step back, gesturing to the door that they had entered through.

“We are needed down on the ground.” Elijah looked meaningfully at Robert, imploring with the man to trust him, before backing away further and disappearing out through the open door, closing it tightly behind him.

Casualties, they’d said, and a fair few of them too.

Ten or so Healers Apparated into Diagon Alley with an authoritative crack, Helene Delacour amongst them. Her eyes were narrowed, her brows furrowed with concentration as she and her colleagues made her way along the alley towards what was left of Sparks bistro to attend to the dead, those that were injured and those that needed the reassurance that Ministry members could not give them: that everything would be alright. The prized Healing skills that Helene had gave her the job of dealing with the injured and dying and she made her way between those that were afflicted by the fire, adding dittany here and there so as to help the Healing process but firmly encouraging those that lingered to go to St. Mungo’s, regardless of what was keeping them there.

It was not long before Helene came across James Potter and Susan Bones, both of whom she did not recognise but knew the latter even at a glance to be hurt, regardless of the expression of defiance that she wore on her face. The young Mediwitch made her way over and knelt beside Susan, tossing springs of water from her wand in the direction of the lapping flames that James, unknown at that point to her, was doing an impressive job fighting. Helene pocketed her dittany momentarily before looking at Susan, her eyes falling almost immediately to the child that she held in her arms.

“I’m a Healer,” Helene said, sobering a few moments later. She lifted her wand a little and flicked it again at the flames, glancing up at the man, critiquing silently for not looking behind him. “What’s your name? I’m Helene. Call me Lena, for short.” Helene smiled warmly and removed her dittany once more from her pocket. “This will only heal you temporary for what I assume are burns. Though, we must get you to St. Mungo’s immediately. Is this your child? She’s rather pretty.” Helene smiled again and gestured with her hands for the woman to show her injuries. “We had better repair you enough for travel. I must insist upon the hospital. Your friend here is doing a brilliant job at battling these flames.”

“You remind me of your father. I know you’re sick of that by now but I can’t help it. You know after all those years being in school with your father I think I should know,” Susan said unable to control herself. She often relived those years at Hogwarts so she was unable to control herself. She hoped she would not upset the boy. He wasn’t much older than her Edgar was, she didn’t believe.

“Susan Bones,” she said to the young healer. Tears formed in her eyes when she heard Lena ask if the baby was hers. It all hit her at once. She had gone in there for the boy because he looked like Edgar and she saved the girl because the boy wanted her to and she also looked like Claire had as in infant. That brought silent tears to her eyes, she hadn’t really cried over her children yet she was so worried about her other four, this infant meant a lot more than just a normal child this was a inner guilt for not being able to save Edgar and Claire. “She’s not mine; I got her out of there before it collapsed. I’m guessing anyone inside is dead by now,” she said sadly. The image of the boy would not leave her mind.

Susan showed her hands to the young healer. She wasn’t too happy about leaving though. She’d like to see them try to keep her there. She hated St. Mungo’s with a dying passion. To be honest if she was ever to have another child she would rather have the child at home instead of St. Mungo’s, she was suborn and everyone knew it. Anyone who knew her daughter Amelia and her knew where her daughter got it from.

The flames dying out, James turned to look for the source of the voice behind him. He gazed for a few moments at the young woman, before giving himself a sharp mental shake.

"She's got to have Veela blood," he thought to himself, turning his gaze to Susan so as not to be accused of staring.

James felt the familiar clench in his stomach, accompanied by a fluttering in his chest at being compared to his father. On the one hand, he felt proud to be the son of Harry Potter; on the other, he felt a certain obligation to live up to his name. An internal battle always accompanied words of comparison to Harry. Pride vs Obligation. It was a battle that would likely never declare a winner.

James smiled in reply to the comment, running his hand over the back of his head at the same time, which was a nervous habit he'd had since a child. He looked over towards where Edward had disappeared to, but he felt reluctant to leave Susan just yet.

“I know that he’d be proud of you no matter what you did with your live, besides become a Death Eater obviously, I wasn’t close with him but I knew him well enough to know that much. I know what’s it like feel like you have a name to fill, being a Bones was never easy as a kid. I spent most of my life being compared to my Uncle Edgar and his dead wife and kids. Even know people will compare me to my Aunt Amelia, personally my daughter Amelia is more like her then I ever will,” Susan said understanding James completely. She knew it sounded like she was lecturing him but she couldn’t help her mothering habits. James was not a child by any means but she was a friend’s son.

She didn’t blame the young woman for doing her job but she didn’t need to go to St. Mungo’s. She had healed herself during a war so she can do it now. Plus her father was great with healing and since she had to go there since she was too worried her own home would be attacked. She had two adopted twin girls who had to be worried. She sent out her badger patronus to make sure her family was okay. She knew how Death Eaters work, at least how they have worked in the past.

France was Helene’s preferred realm and though she had been in Britain for some time, the stiff upper lip that they all seemed to possess still left the girl somewhat confused. She tipped herself back on her heels and looked at the woman with a curious expression as she talked to the man that stood over them, protecting them from the flames. Helene’s eyebrows furrowed a little as she couldn’t help but listening to the conversation. She felt guilty for intruding on it but couldn’t help but be interested in the conversation that was taking place on such an improvised battlefield.

When the woman introduced herself, Helene smiled. She recognised the name, of course. Helene’s aunt, Fleur, knew of the Bones’ via her brother and sister in law, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The family had been mentioned in a passing a few times during Helene’s childhood. Helene had never made to ask after them, though. Her mother was far more interested in herself and their own family history to care about anyone else. Well, at least that was Helene’s opinion, and she was never with her Aunt enough to inquire, to even think to inquire.

“Please to meet you.” Helene inclined her head slightly before looking down at the child. Susan’s admission that the child was not hers made the knot in Helene’s stomach twist painfully again. She bit down on her bottom lip and looked at the child curiously, worriedly, before quickly taking producing the dittany for Susan’s hands. After putting a few drops into her palms, Helene issued a warning with the remedy. “This is a quick fix. The burns are quite deep. To prevent nerve damage you really will need to go to St. Mungo’s, regardless of how reluctant you are. As it is, for all intents and purposes at the moment, you’re this child’s guardian and she needs as much medical attention too.”

((Ah, jeez. I messed that one up. lol, didn't even hit me that Helene was James' cousin until I read that bit about the sister and brother-in-law. They should know each other. I'm hopeless. Let's just say that they haven't seen each other since they were kids))

James had kept silent through most of the exchange, his eyes wavering back to the nurse. He was no longer thinking it was her beauty that held his gaze, but he had a weird feeling that he should know her from somewhere.

"Excuse me, miss," James said finally, his curiosity winning out, "but what did you say your name is? You look very familiar."

Donahue... Donahue... it wasn't ringing a bell. No matter, Aaron would figure out who he was, and see if he could be of any use to them. From his tiny interaction with him, he did not seem to be one way or the other when it came to good vs evil. Though, Aaron suspected, he did not just "accidentally" throw the piece of burning wood on top of his wand.

"Wands do go through a regular wear and tear process. Wands can get a little rusty and a tune up from a professional is never a bad thing." Aaron smiled slightly, realizing he was trying to sell his business while flames where burning Diagon Alley to the ground. "But I digress, now is not the best time to be discussing these matters."

Aaron casually strolled over to the board that was flaming and over top of his wand. Luckily for Aaron he knew better than to leave his wand unenchanted. Dueling could result in some pretty harsh damage on a wand and if it was not protected it would be destroyed, much like it would have been if he had not made it fire resistant. He reached down, grabbed the board quickly, and flipped it over so that his wand was visible. He picked it up, rubbed it on his pant leg, and inspected it making sure it was fine. "Fireproof."

He smirked and he walked past Donahue, gave him a large slap on the shoulder, and began to job off in the direction of all the commotion. "Thanks again, Donahue. Oh, and its Marcheti's wands." He turned and left and made his way towards the other people in the alley.

As he was running, he heard a scream, and he stopped in his tracks. Someone was trapped inside of a building. This was his chance to go from local wandmaker to hero. He sprinted at the building and figured out his best chance of entry. "Reducto!" He shouted, which was followed by the front door of the building being blasted inwards. "Aguamenti!" Water poured from his wand and cleared a path to the room which harbored two people, an older woman and here child. The woman was in tears and hovering over the child, who was unconscious. Aaron scooped the child up and ran back to the entrance, the woman in tow.

"I need a healer!" Aaron shouted as he ran from inside of the burning building. He was not an exceptional healer, though he wished he was, and he would certainly need the help of someone else. He was not sure if the boy was alive or dead.

Whight appeared with Jack in hand. The streets were a disaster and buildings still continued to crumble and burn. Whight had never seen the wizarding community pull together so quickly with an effort such as this. The fiery beast had vanished which pleased Whight a great deal. He wondered who had been the hero of the day.

He looked to Jack and then around the the alley. He didn't even know where to begin. Much of the chaos seemed to be subdued but there were still distance cries of pain. He saw no familiar faces and was unsure of were to begin. Whight started toward a building closes to him but stopped when he heard a voice shouting outside the next.

Whight ran to the building. He was no healer by any means but he hopped that maybe an extra body could help whatever the situation. As he approached Whight almost stopped in he tracks. He did not expect to see Aaron in all of this but he assumed there was reason. Still, he kept a level head.

"I'm not much of a healer, but I may be able to help with some of the more minor wounds until one arrives. They're all very busy," he said.