A/N: Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed – all shall be revealed in due course, patience is a virtue! Here's chapter 12, as promised, so enjoy!

Chapter 12

It must have been nearing lunchtime when two Ministry wizards entered the hospital room.

Jennifer had been sitting with her two youngest children almost constantly since James had gone missing – being dragged away only by her mother to eat and sleep. Her mother had stayed with her since nine a.m. this particular morning, and there had been no improvement to either Tom's or to Rosie's condition. Jennifer was sitting between their beds, holding onto one hand of each of her children; silently begging them to fight whatever poison wracked their bodies.

"Ministry officials, Mrs. Potter," one of the wizards said, flashing her a badge, and a show of crooked yellow teeth. "Name's John Lancelot, and this is my colleague, Toby Weathers." He nodded to his companion, who was at least thirty years younger than him. The younger man smiled nervously, taking a piece of parchment and a quill out of his pocket. "We're here to ask you a few questions," John Lancelot continued.

Jennifer frowned. "Right. Go on."

"Tell me, when was the last time you saw your son James Potter?"

Jennifer's eyes flashed – her temper was rising quickly, a sure sign she hadn't had enough sleep. "Why is that important?"

The younger man cleared his throat. "We're just trying to find your son, Mrs. Potter."

"You think I handed him over to Voldemort?" she asked shrilly.

"No, no, of course not – " Weathers was cut off by his older colleague.

"We are investigating every possibility," John Lancelot informed her curtly.

Jennifer opened her mouth in sheer disbelief and fury, but it was her mother who spoke.

"What a ridiculous suggestion," Beryl said. "Disgusting. Why would Jennifer Potter, of all people, hand her own son over to Voldemort?"

Both wizards winced at the name, but the older man ploughed on relentlessly. "Mrs. Potter, tell me when you last saw your eldest son? Enlighten me, why was it that your mind immediately jumped to the possibility we could be accusing you of selling your son to You-Know-Who?"

"Tell me why I should answer the questions of a man who's afraid of saying a name?" Jennifer snapped. "Two of my children, as you can clearly see, have been poisoned by an unknown substance – enlighten me, Lancelot, why would I want to lose my remaining child?"

Toby Weathers winced again, this time at Jennifer's icy tone, but still Lancelot spoke.

"Mrs. Potter, would you happen to know what it was that poisoned your two children?"

"Of course I don't know! If I did, don't you think I would have told – "

"Mrs. Potter!" the older wizard said over the top of Jennifer's voice. "Is there a possibility that you would hide the antidote from the Mediwizards? Is there a possibility that you, Mrs. Potter, could have poisoned Thomas and Rosalinda Potter, whilst organising a deal to hand James Potter over to the Dark Lord?"

"Mr. Lancelot!" Beryl was on her feet. The window on the far side of the room shattered – although it was hard to tell if this was due to Beryl's shock, or Jennifer's fury. "My daughter is distressed enough as it is…"

"Mother." Jennifer pulled her mother back down into her seat, and stood up herself, folding her arm. "Mr. Lancelot, do you have children?"

Lancelot looked surprised at the question, but cleared his throat. "Yes, I do," he said. "Two daughters and a son, all grown up now."

"Regardless…tell me, Mr. Lancelot, how would you feel if you were told your eldest child had been taken by Death Eaters?"

"I really don't think – "

"How would you feel, Mr. Lancelot?"

Lancelot surveyed Jennifer for a few seconds. "I'd be devastated," he said finally.

"Rightly so. Now, let's suppose you've been told just a few days previously that your other children will die unless a cure is found…and no one knows the cure? What then?"

"Mrs. Potter – "

"You don't know what you'd do," Jennifer said, staring at Lancelot very hard. Her heart was pumping very fast, and there was a lump rising in her throat, but she had to do this. "I love all my children very much, Mr. Lancelot," she continued. "It's true I argued with James the day before he disappeared, but I would never want any harm to come to him. I'm about to lose all three of my children, Mr. Lancelot…do you honestly believe I would bring that on myself?"

"I – "

"Furthermore," Jennifer said, cutting across him. "Rest assured I will be lodging a complaint with the Minister of Magic himself about your behaviour…and I would be very interested to know why the Ministry is only questioning my son's disappearance now. It's been two days."

"Mrs. Potter, our resources are limited, there is a certain amount of time before a child is declared missing, and seeing as your son is sixteen – "

"If he was sixteen or sixty, it does not change the fact he is in the hands of Voldemort!" Again the two wizards winced. "Albus Dumbledore has been working for two whole days to try and bring my son home…whereas you – you, Mr. Lancelot, are only now starting to ask questions – and accusing me, his mother, of selling him to the Dark Lord!" Jennifer flicked her wand at the door, which flew open. "I suggest you leave."

Lancelot nodded, and Toby Weathers put away his quill, and scrunched the parchment into a ball in his hand. He was looking at the floor, and Jennifer knew he was embarrassed by his colleague's behaviour. As Lancelot strode out of the room, he lingered behind to talk to Jennifer.

"We'll do everything we can to bring your son home," he told her. Jennifer felt herself soften – he was only a few years older than James, perhaps four at most.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "But I would hasten to ensure my name is crossed off the suspects list."

"Of course, Mrs. Potter." Toby Weathers tipped his hat to her, and then, with a sad smile, left the room. Jennifer fell back into her seat, one hand on her forehead.

"I can't do this anymore, Mum," she said.

"Of course you can, my dear." At Jennifer's face, she leaned over to give her daughter's knee a soft pat. "Daniel will be home in a few days…he'll help you to feel better."

"I hope so," Jennifer murmured. She looked back over at her children's white faces again, and then James' face flashed in her mind – white, scared and alone. Almost in a trance, she took hold of Tom's hand again, and reached for Rosie's. "Listen to me," she told them. "Listen. I need you to get well again…fight it…for me. For your brother." Wherever he is, she added silently.

---

With a small sigh, Esmerelda stepped out of the fireplace, dusting herself down. Thank goodness we're back on the Floo Network, she thought, flicking her wand at the lamps, so that they lit up the room. It's a pain not to be…though arguably it was safer for Remus and Sirius while they were staying here alone.

It didn't help James, though, did it? a nasty little voice reminded her. She pushed the thought away, and left the living room for the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, suddenly realising that the whole house was silent. A quick glance at her watch told her it was ten o'clock – Sirius should be in now. But if Sirius was in, then the house definitely shouldn't be quiet – particularly as Remus was still staying with them.

"Sirius?" she called nervously, her heart pounding. Please not Sirius as well…not Remus either, but please not Sirius…Esmerelda pulled her wand out, listening for any sound in the house. Nothing. There was no call from Sirius – no distant laughter from Sirius' room. Esmerelda made her way up the stairs, her wand in front of her. Every door she opened, every room she tried: nothing.

At least there's no Dark Mark.

Going back downstairs, Esmerelda hastily pushed her wand back into her pocket, and returned to the living room, pulling a pot of powder down from the mantelpiece, and throwing a handful into the fire.

"The Lupins."

The fire flickered purple, and Esmerelda put her head in the flames, to be greeted by the site of the Lupins' small kitchen, and Romulus Lupin's tired face.

"Esmerelda," he said with surprise, "how are you? Is there a problem?"

"Not really, Romulus, I was just dropping in to ask if you'd seen Sirius and Remus today."

The man shook his head. "I haven't. Where do you think they might be?" Esmerelda knew without a doubt where Remus' calm manner came from.

"I'm not altogether sure, I told Sirius to make sure they were in by nine o'clock, but obviously they're not…no matter, I'll try Peter's parents, and then Lily's. At least if they aren't there, maybe Peter or Lily will know where they've scampered off too." She rolled her eyes and smiled. "No worries, Romulus, I'll let you know when I find them."

"Thank you, Esmerelda."

Esmerelda pulled her head back out of the flames, reaching for another handful of the lilac powder.

"The Pettigrews," she said, throwing the powder into the flames.

It was Mrs. Pettigrew who greeted her – a small, mouse-like woman who seemed to wear an apron whenever Esmerelda saw her. She hurried over to the fire as Esmerelda's head appeared.

"Oh, thank goodness," Mrs. Pettigrew said. "I've been trying to contact you since half past seven – I told Peter he had to be home for dinner…what have they got themselves into this time?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that," Esmerelda said dryly, though butterflies had started to flutter in her stomach. "I told Sirius that he and Remus had to be home for nine o'clock and there's no sign…you don't know where they all went today, do you?"

Mrs. Pettigrew frowned. "Peter said he was going to Sirius'."

"Yes, Sirius did imply they were staying here…they probably got bored and skipped off out, and lost track of time, don't worry – I'll send Peter home as soon as I find them."

"Thank you," Mrs. Pettigrew called, as Esmerelda pulled back out of the flames once more with a frustrated sigh. Where was Sirius? Remus, too – that was another teenager she was supposed to be responsible for. Well, only Lily's left to try. It was probably best not to frighten the Evans with a head in the fire. She pulled down a different pot of powder from the mantelpiece, and threw a handful into the flames, before stepping into the emerald green, and shouting: "The Evans', Surrey!"

She landed neatly – a good Floo travel experience came with practice. She looked around, realising she was in an empty living room, bur she could hear voices from the kitchen.

"Hello?" she called, following the direction of the voices. A woman with curly red hair stepped out of the kitchen. She was wearing muggle clothes – not very surprising, considering she was a Muggle, Esmerelda reminded herself.

"Hello," she said pleasantly. "I'm not sure we've met before – "

"Oh, are you Sirius' mother?" the woman asked. "I've seen you at King's Cross a few times; I'm Hyacinth Evans, Lily's mother."

"Lovely to meet you; Esmerelda Black," Esmerelda returned with a warm smile. "I'm sorry to intrude like this – "

"That's quite all right," Mrs. Evans said, peering over her shoulder at the fire, which was still glowing green. "Did you come out f the fireplace? How fascinating – you must show me sometime…"

"Of course," Esmerelda said, slightly amused.

"Come into the kitchen…this is my husband, Charles," Mrs. Evans continued, leading Esmerelda into a large kitchen. "This is Sirius' mother," she informed a man who could only have been Charles Evans. A blonde girl somewhere near Lily's age eyes Esmerelda in disgust, before pushing back her chair, and pushing past Esmerelda to get out of the door without saying a word.

"You'll have to excuse my daughter, Petunia," Mrs. Evans said, frowning. "She's never quite got used to our Lily being a witch…tea?"

"Oh…no, thank you. I dropped by to ask if Lily was in, actually." Esmerelda gave a small laugh. "I seem to have misplaced a couple of teenagers somewhere."

"Oh, but didn't Sirius leave you a note explaining?" Mrs. Evans asked in surprise. "Lily popped in while we were out and left a note just to let us know where she was off to."

Esmerelda frowned. "No, Sirius didn't extend me that courtesy," she said. "May I see the note?" There was something very wrong here – yes, Sirius was prone to coming and going as he pleased at all hours of the day and night, but he never would have out rightly disobeyed her instructions without some kind of explanation…especially after James…he must know I'd worry…he wouldn't deliberately made me worry…

Unless there was actually something to worry about.

Mrs. Evans took a small piece of paper from the fridge and pressed it into Esmerelda's hands. "It's nothing to worry about," she said kindly. Esmerelda managed a weak smile before looking down to read Lily's neat handwriting.

Dear Mum & Dad,

Got to be quick because we have to leave, but just thought I'd drop you a note so you wouldn't worry. The four of us – Remus, Sirius, Peter and I – have gone to find James. We'll find him easily I think – we have a good plan, so I should be back sometime around one o'clock in the morning; sorry it's so late! I'm only going to Knockturn Alley – it's a street just off Diagon Alley in London, so I'll be fine, you don't need to worry!

Love Lily

---

"Here he is."

James let out a hoarse groan as he suddenly became very aware of his surroundings, and cracked his eyes open. He was still in the dungeon – which would explain the lack of heat – but standing over him were two figures. He felt a cold shiver go through him. They were both dressed entirely in black.

"Mr. Potter," one of them said smoothly. "So nice of you to join us. Did you enjoy your sleep?"

I wasn't asleep; I was unconscious! James wanted to scream, but didn't – it wasn't worth the consequences. Instead, he settled for: "Yes. Most comfortable, thank you." Sarcasm they would allow; outright rudeness they would not. One of them laughed, and James recognised the sound – it was Sigric Snape's…did that mean he was back to torture him? Slowly, he sat up, and realised he was shaking slightly – out of muscle fatigue or outright fear, he wasn't sure. He realised with a start that both men's hoods were down – yes, that was definitely Snivellus' father…the other man had long blonde hair and a sneer; James recognised him as Lucius Malfoy, a Slytherin who had graduated from Hogwarts just the previous year.

"Our master wishes to see you," Malfoy informed him with a twisted smile. James felt a shiver of fear go through him. Voldemort.

"Who, Tom?" he said defiantly, trying to mask his panic. He was using the wall to help him stand up now, and was shaking from head to foot…You're not doing a very good job of looking cocksure.

Snape raised his wand. "You will not speak of our master in such a way! Crucio!"

James' attempts to stand up were thwarted as the curse hit him full force, and, biting his lip hard to keep from screaming, he sank down to the ground again, willing the pain to stop…it was surely ripping his arms from his shoulders…

It was over quickly. James slumped forward, breathing hard, trying to recover. The Death Eaters' laughter rattled in his ears. They wanted to take him to Voldemort. James knew that as soon as he entered Voldemort's chamber, it was all over. That was the end. The future had never looked blacker. I don't want to die, he thought miserably. Lily…Sirius…Mum…Remus…Peter…His head snapped up. He focused on the door, which had been left open as the Death Eaters came in. Malfoy and Snape were still laughing. With a small grunt, James threw himself in the direction of the door, and, with speed born of dodging Bludgers, he was out of the door before Malfoy and Snape had time to react.

His legs were weak as he started running down the dimly lit passage, his footsteps and heavy breathing echoing off the walls. Distantly he could hear people running after him, and he desperately turned a corner, and another, trying to lose them, but there was no other way to go…and he stopped short at a dead end. With dread, he slowly turned around.

Malfoy and Snape had reached him, both slightly out of breath, but smirks now gracing both faces. Snape was twirling his wand in his fingers.

"That was a very foolish thing you just did, James, wasn't it?"

James refused to answer – just fixed the Death Eater with a glare. Snape let loose a short laugh.

"James, James, the Dark Lord will not be at all pleased if you don't answer his questions."

"I don't give a damn what His Highness thinks," James growled. Snape raised his wand again, and James braced himself for another dose of the Cruciatus curse, but instead, ropes snaked out from the end of his wand tip, and tied James hands. Another flick of his wand, and a muttered incarnation that James didn't catch, and suddenly his feet were moving for him, pulling him back towards the direction he'd come from. Snape and Malfoy walked behind him, one of them occasionally kicking him in the back of the leg so he stumbled. For the first time, he realised there was a musty, damp smell surrounding him – they must be underground. Of course – the dungeons…The signs had always been there, he just hadn't recognised them. Unless Dumbledore had a good idea of that, James had very little chance of being rescued. As soon as he laid eyes on Voldemort, his death sentence was signed.

It's over, he realised miserably, as they turned a corner, and, at the end of the passage, light was filtering around the edge of a great oak door which had been left slightly open. Squinting, through the gap James could see a few hooded figures in black – more Death Eaters? There was no chance of escape: he had two Death Eaters behind him, and the only possible escape was ahead – straight into more Death Eaters and Voldemort. James wanted to scream, lash out, do anything that would stop this steady walk towards death. He couldn't control himself – by the time they reached the door, he was shaking from head to foot. From within, he heard a chilling voice that sent more shivers up his spine.

"I believe I hear footsteps…Timothy, if you would be so kind as to open the door…"

Involuntarily, James took a step backwards, but another kick from behind warned him Malfoy and Snape were still there. But then the oak door opened, and bright light blinded James for a moment, before he was pushed roughly into the room; he almost fell onto his knees, but someone grabbed him from behind and hauled him up.

"Welcome, James Potter."

At the sound of the cold voice again, James slowly raised his head to see a tall man in long black robes staring down at him. Red eyes bored into him, glaring out from a stark white face, and the man had only two slits instead of a nose. Fear smothered James completely and he shut his eyes, willing the man to disappear. But when he looked again, the man's thin lips had twisted into a smile.

"Yes, James," he said softly. "I am Lord Voldemort."

TBC.

A/N: Please review! I'll update soon!