I am still wrecked from last night. I fell asleep in my friend's dorm room on the freezing floor and I think I'm sick. Gross. Anywho, enjoy Chapter Eight and thanks so! much to all of you lovely reviewers.
Chapter Eight: Sick Day
Lily Evans sat in Advanced Transfiguration, wondering what the hell she was doing to herself. She wasn't listening to Professor McGonagall's speech about how Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration was going to become their new best friend. Instead of paying attention, she was lost in thought…
Lily entered her father's bedroom with a tray of hot soup and a glass of wine. "Dinner time, Daddy," she said with a big smile.
Her father, who was sitting up in bed, placed his book on the bedside table and smiled at his youngest daughter. "You're a saint, darling," he said softly.
Placing the tray in front of him, Lily kissed his bald head. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Jonathan Evans said cheerfully. "Did you make this soup?"
"From scratch."
"You really are a saint!" Jonathan dug in. As he sipped the wine, he smiled again at his daughter. "Is Paula home yet?" he questioned.
Lily shook her head.
A piece of parchment was slid into her hands from behind her, shaking her from her thoughts. Lily unfolded the parchment to see handwriting that she recognized as Remus'.
Lily, pay attention! I can tell from behind that you're slacking off.
-R.L.
Smiling, Lily dipped her previously abandoned quill into the bottle of Everchanging Ink that she had out on the desk. The note came out in rainbow ink…
Sorry, R.L.! I'm a slacker, you caught me. How's it going?
-L.E.
Better. How are things going at home, L.E.? I haven't had much of a chance to talk to you since we've been back at good ol' Hoggie.
-R.L.
Truthfully, things aren't so great.
-L.E.
Remus read these words with concern etched deep into his features. As he was about to write back, the bell signaling the end of the class period sounded. On the back of the note, he scribbled the assignment that Professor McGonagall had written on the board before roughly shoving all of his belongings into his book bag.
As Lily was about to leave, he put a hand on her shoulder from behind her. "Do you want to take a walk? …talk about it maybe?" he asked.
"Not right now," Lily said quietly. "I've already been distracted enough as it is today…I just don't want to get into it at the moment. Maybe we can talk later?"
"Perfect. I'll find you after dinner." Remus moved passed Lily to catch up with his friends.
"Actually," Lily said, making Remus turn back toward her, eyebrows raised. "I had a bit of a misunderstanding with James…I was wondering if you could talk to him for me."
"A misunderstanding?"
Lily nodded. "He thinks I insulted him when I didn't mean to…the thing is I'm trying to bury the hatchet with him. We're working together, living together…I want to be his friend, not his sworn enemy."
"For you, Lily, I will make my stupid friend a bit less stupid," Remus said, smiling and bowing. "See you after dinner."
"Thank you, Remus."
---
With the appearance of dinner came the arrival of The Evening Prophet. James had the paper open and was occasionally taking sips of pumpkin juice or small bites of food. He was engrossed in a story that he had been surprised to see…
More Disappearances: Is To Worry To Overreact?
As of this morning, seven more disappearances have been confirmed by the Ministry of Magic, though the names of those who are missing have not been released. The Minister of Magic had no comment on the situation, but Mr. Bartimius Crouch of the Department of Magic Law Enforcement had this to say: "The Wizarding Community need not worry about anything. These disappearances are in no way linked together. To worry about it would be to overreact to a situation that needs no second thoughts as far as the public is concerned."
While the Ministry has stated, through Mr. Crouch, that the Wizarding World need not be concerned, the Prophet wonders why. These disappearances, the Prophet has found, all have at least one thing in common: All of those who were taken were muggleborn Witches and Wizards…
James stopped reading and folded up the paper. "Seven more people have disappeared," he said to Remus, who was sitting across from him, before taking in a large gulp of pumpkin juice. "The Ministry keeps denying that something big is going on here…I don't believe a word of it."
"What do you mean?" asked Peter from James' right side.
"The Prophet pointed out that every person that's gone missing has been muggleborn," James said, frowning. "Personally, I think that there's something going on that the Ministry doesn't want us to know about."
"James, it's a conspiracy theory you're talking about here," said Sirius, shrugging it off. "People go missing and immediately everyone thinks that there's something bigger behind it…maybe they just ran away from their lives. It happens."
James shook his head but stayed silent, opting instead to munch on his fried chicken. He had a bad feeling about it all…he didn't think it was a conspiracy that the disappearances were all linked. He felt that it was a solid fact that they were all linked.
Little did the Marauders know, James was one hundred percent correct.
Later that evening, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall could be found in the headmaster's office with a grizzly looking man named Alastor Moody. Moody had a slight limp as he moved into the room and sat across from the headmaster. McGonagall stood a little ways away and looked to be deep in thought.
"You know what's happening, Dumbledore," Moody grunted without so much as a hello. "I can see it in your eyes…you know what's happening."
"Yes, Alastor," Dumbledore said slowly. He looked pained as he said the next sentence. "Riddle has come back and he's killing muggles and muggleborns."
Moody nodded as McGonagall made a noise that couldn't be classified. "The Ministry truly thinks that those people are still alive," Moody grumbled angrily. "I found evidence that Mia Hanson was dead, but because I didn't have a body they dismissed it all. They're in denial, Dumbledore. They think that nothing bad is ever going to happen as if Dark Magic didn't exist!" Moody slammed his fist on Dumbledore's desk angrily.
"I know, Alastor, I know," Dumbledore said softly. He looked over to McGonagall. "What is your take on all of this, Minerva?"
For the first time in her life, Professor McGonagall did not sound stern and powerful, but meek. "A war is brewing, isn't it?" she said.
Dumbledore nodded. "And the Ministry of Magic is not about to do anything to stop it," he added.
"We can do this, Dumbledore," Moody said in his growl-like voice. "We have to. I took an oath to protect wizards and witches from the likes of this maniac who's gaining power. I'm not about to just break that oath just because the idiots that made me take it are too stupid or too stubborn to acknowledge what's going on out there. One way or another, I'm taking this head on. I refuse to skate around it until it gets too bad to handle like my less than esteemed colleagues."
Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Alastor," he said, "who else feels as you do?"
"The Prewett brothers know what's going on," Moody said. "They were never stupid by any means, as you know, Albus. Caradoc Dearborn would help with anything I told him to…there's Elphias Doge as well."
"Would you be able to contact all of these people securely if we were to decide, tonight, to take some sort of action?"
"Dumbledore, I'm a Ministry Auror," Moody said simply.
Nodding, Dumbledore said, "Very well. Minerva, would you be willing to do anything if we decided to take some sort of action tonight?" He was giving her a chance to say no, knowing that he couldn't force anybody to do anything, especially if it was going to be going directly against the Ministry of Magic.
"I am with you one hundred percent, Albus," McGonagall said resolutely.
"Very well," said Dumbledore. "If the Ministry refuses to face the problem at hand, we will form a small band of only the best witches and wizards. It will have to remain a secret from the Ministry, of course, or they will shut us down."
"What do I tell the others as to the main purpose of this group?" Moody questioned.
"We can't bring him down ourselves," Dumbledore said. "There will not be enough of us to do that…our purpose is simply to do what the Ministry will not do."
Nodding, Moody asked one more question. "What are we going to call this little group, then?"
McGonagall spoke up now. Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's pet phoenix, had just burst into the room in flames, carrying a message for the headmaster. "How about The Order of The Phoenix?"
