After the frosty winter came wet and mild weather; the club-like branches of the plane trees that lined their road began to sprout green leaves, and nearby Victoria park began to feature bursts of yellow and lilac where daffodils and bluebells grew. Remus sent some to his mother, who had seemed down lately, and used his polaroid to take photos of the colourful canal boats in the hope it would inspire her to paint.
Shortly before his birthday in early March, Lily moved into the house, her cardboard boxes a little damp from the spitting rain, James's overjoyed face just visible from behind the suitcases he was levitating up the stairs to their shared room. Remus only missed bumping into him by inches as they passed on the stairs, and found that the front door was surrounded with piles of Lily's things.
'Did she really have to bring Tybalt?' muttered Sirius grumpily, standing in the doorway to the kitchen and glaring at the wicker carrier from which yowling could be heard.
'I think it'll be nice having a cat around,' said Remus. 'Just don't chase him, eh, Pads?'
'Don't know why you're so cheerful, you wait, she'll have candles and vases of flowers everywhere before long.'
'Sounds lovely.'
Sirius just gave a moody sigh and bit into some toast. 'Aren't you meant to be at work?' he said thickly. 'Or are you going to hang around and help me with my crossword?'
'Sorry, on my way,' said Remus promptly. 'We're still all going for duelling practice at Headquarters tonight, yeah?'
'We'll be there all day assuming they unpack quickly,' Sirius told him, still looking resentfully up the stairs. Remus understood. He could hear Lily giggling in a way that he hastily took as his cue to leave.
Mr Hebditch, or Phil, as he insisted Remus called him, owned a small printworks in an attic above a dusty looking Muggle millinery that was so seldom visited by customers that they didn't notice the uncommonly large numbers of owls that went back and forth from the brown-brick building.
Just as James had warned him, Phil was somewhat dull. A habit of losing track of his long-winded stories or complaints about the youth of today (which were often one and the same), Remus had swiftly learned how to appear as though he were paying attention while privately daydreaming about some other business. Despite this, he had a fondness for the stout, bearded man, whose grumpiness became endearing and rambling stories became amusing in their own right for their pointlessness.
The work itself was another story. As Remus climbed the creaky stairs up to the print shop he resigned himself to another day of producing mundane, dull copy. Enchanting the rackety old print machines to the right specifications, sometimes moving the inky letter blocks by hand (he had still not mastered charming them into the right order like Phil), advising the client on the best design layouts or amended wording, being told firmly to do it the client's way and the client's way only, stacking up fresh orders and processing invoices… It was hardly interesting, and it was poorly paid too. The only major benefit was that Phil, whether from lack of caring, unawareness or out of the kindness of his own heart, did not seem to care how much time Remus took off. He never asked for a reason or explanation, never hissed through his teeth and frowned over a schedule, never emphasised to Remus how important dedication and commitment was in a career. Just continued to lean over his drawing board with his glasses halfway down his nose, and give a mumbled, 'sure.'
The sunlight that streamed in from the high attic windows made the room stuffy and hot; Remus often wondered how he would cope in the summer. He hung his cloak on the brass hook by the door, and gave Phil a warm greeting as he put on his apron.
'New order came in last night,' Phil said, nodding to a letter he had left on Remus's workbench. 'Needs to be rushed ahead and done by lunch, they're paying extra. Do it before the St Oswald's booklet.'
Remus picked it up curiously. It was from St Mungo's, and they had provided a draft roughly written out on parchment.
DRAGON POX PANDEMIC: IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR YOU AND YOUR FAMILY
'Blimey,' said Remus, looking up at Phil. 'It's all getting a bit serious, isn't it?'
Phil snorted. 'Load of old rubbish. People have had dragon pox for hundreds of years, yet every time a new wave comes along they act like it's the end of the world and no one's ever heard of it. We were made of sterner stuff back in my day, a few sparks out your nostrils and a bit of green in your colouring was nothing to worry about. A spoonful of flobberworm oil with your breakfast and you'd be as right as rain within a few days, my mother swore by it.'
Remus gave a noncommittal hum as he leafed through the pages the hospital had provided. 'Well, shouldn't take me long. Tea?'
Phil gave a grunt that Remus took as an acceptance of the offer, and so he pointed his wand at the kettle in the tiny kitchen that was just visible through the tangle of machinery. He pulled out a heavy drawer and began to pick out the iron letters from their boxy little compartments, laying them out neatly on the press when he thought the word was too complex to trust magic.
After what Phil had said, he wondered whether the words needed to be so scary. Risk. Exposure. Spread rapidly. Fatal. Vulnerable. Infection. He was sure he had suffered from a mild case of dragon pox when he was young, and it hadn't seemed so bad. His mother had put socks on his hands to try and stop him from scratching, and he'd found his greenish hue amusing when his father lifted him up to see in the mirror. But then, he reasoned, these leaflets were for those at risk of getting it seriously. People who were old or were already ill. The initial alarm he had felt was unnecessary but probably important for some.
A wave of his wand arranged the letters of the final paragraph neatly on the press - he was getting better and better at the spell every day.
If you or a member of your family shows any symptoms (or you believe may have been exposed to someone displaying these symptoms), please contact St Mungo's immediately for potential quarantine.
…..
The next day, Remus took James's advice and met with Gwen for coffee. She was starting to look a lot healthier. Though still pale and tired looking (he probably looked the same, the full moon was less than a week away), her dark hair was washed and pushed back with a white scarf, and when she spotted him entering the cafe, her smile was genuine and warm. They exchanged pleasantries and chit-chatted about the weather. The waitress took their orders with practiced cheerfulness. They both remarked on her likeness to Celestina Warbeck when she was out of earshot. It was completely, utterly normal, and Remus began to feel very strange.
'I'm nervous about next week,' she said quietly, once they received their cappuccinos.
'It's all right, I still get nervous every time, it's painful,' he said reassuringly. 'Completely normal to dread it.'
'It's not that. I spoke to Dana last month. She's excited because one of the old big names is getting out of prison. He'll be there, I think. I just keep wondering what he's been in prison for.'
'I'm sure it's nothing to worry about,' said Remus. 'People wouldn't be excited for him returning if he wasn't a decent enough bloke.'
'I suppose,' she replied vaguely. 'And I did think that about the whole colony at one point… Though…'
'What?' he prompted gently.
She looked away, at the small vase of white heather in the window. 'I keep wondering if it was one of them. Who did this to me.'
'Decided it definitely wasn't me then?' he joked, but she didn't laugh.
'Who turned you?' she asked.
It was a very personal question, and usually he would have awkwardly refused to answer. But he found that it was easy to be honest with her; this kindred spirit who understood this awful condition but hadn't yet let it change her, as it had done to those in the colony.
'Someone called Fenrir Greyback,' he said calmly.
'Do you know him?'
'Not at all,' he said, scratching his temple absent-mindedly. 'Though I think I would like to, one day.'
'I still have to remind myself that whoever attacked me is a human,' Gwen said. 'Most of the time,' she added as an afterthought.
'I don't mean to pry,' he began, but Gwen gave a small smile and a slight shake of the head.
'It's all right. I'm curious about you too.'
'Well how about I go first?' he said. He glanced around the cafe. It wasn't exactly empty, but they were tucked away in their own corner and the hum of conversation and jaunty tune playing on the gramophone gave them some semblance of privacy.
'I was bitten when I was a small boy, only five. I don't remember much. I was asleep in bed and I woke in terror. I don't even remember the pain, just the fear. My father heard the commotion and saved me, I suppose, but it was too late. My chest has most of the damage, which is lucky, really - had my face been scarred I don't think I would have been able to go to school or get a job. It would have been impossible to keep secret.'
Gwen was frowning, her mouth slightly open. 'Merlin, that's… That's awful,' she said, her voice a whispered gasp. 'That's so young…'
Remus gave a half shrug. 'Plenty of time to get used to it, I suppose.'
'How on earth did he get in?' she asked, her eyes wide.
Remus leaned back, frowning slightly. 'I don't know. Perhaps my window was left open. The roof of my mother's art shed was directly beneath it, it would have been easy to get in that way.'
Gwen looked staggered, she was shaking her head slightly. 'From what I remember when I… Well, you know, when I'm like that… I just want to run. I don't think I… Well, it doesn't matter what I think, does it? I'll never know what I would or wouldn't do.'
Remus nodded. 'I think that's important to remember. People can be careless, but it's impossible to plan. How could you, when you forget all sense of yourself?'
She nodded slowly, holding her coffee up near her face. 'Yes…'
'It's all right to still think of your one as a terrible monster,' said Remus soothingly. 'They were a terrible monster, at that point. But that's not the same as the person they are every day.'
'They must remember, though,' she said abruptly, her mouth a thin line. 'I don't remember at first, but it's a bit like being drunk, isn't it? Flashes come back to you later. After a few days I can more or less remember the whole night… At least I think I can.' Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
'That's the way it is for me too,' said Remus. 'But I can't speak for others. And even if they can remember, that doesn't mean they know who you are, or where to find you, or whether you would accept an apology from them.'
She drank from her coffee and there was a long pause before she spoke again. 'I... ' she swallowed nervously. 'I used to collect potion ingredients,' she said. 'I've been sacked now, obviously…' Her eyes welled with tears. 'I don't know how much longer my savings will last…'
'You told them?' said Remus, with surprise.
'No, they were there. My colleagues. They saw. There was a little group of us. We were looking for fluxweed. If you pick it at full moon, it has various useful properties, it's quite a common ingredient, but it's increasingly hard to find because Muggles think it's a weed. It grows on sandy or peaty soil, most commonly in East Anglia. We'd searched near Southwold in Suffolk and found nothing, so we thought we'd try further down the coast in Dunwich… Stupid, really, we knew it was pretty remote. We knew there's always a risk in remote places…'
She straightened slightly, opening her mouth as she took a deep breath and dabbed under her eyes to compose herself.
'You don't have to,' said Remus gently. 'We don't have to talk about this.'
'It came out of nowhere,' she seemed to splutter, and her coffee cup gave a clatter as she knocked it slightly with her hand. Several people in the cafe turned to look at them; Remus realised with alarm that it probably looked like a couple breaking up.
'Sorry,' she said, sniffing and blinking rapidly.
'It's fine,' he said quickly. 'Really. Let's… Let's talk about something else.' He scanned his brain desperately but could think of nothing.
'Tell me about your new job,' she said, sounding as desperate as he felt.
He almost sighed with relief, and launched into a long and rambling speech on printworks that probably would have bored even Phil.
…..
'You're getting a lot quicker,' remarked James, as Remus blocked another jinx.
'Maybe you're getting slower,' retorted Remus. With a flick of his wand, he sent a nearby sheet hurtling towards James, with the intention of it entangling him.
James gave a sharp jab in its direction, it shredded into hundreds of pieces, and before Remus could react, James waved his wand again and cried, 'waddiwasi!'
Two pieces of the grubby white sheet zoomed up his nostrils with such force that he was sent backwards, falling painfully onto his back and yelling, in a clogged up, stuffy way, as he pawed at his nose. He could hear Sirius, Peter, Lily and Emmeline howling with laughter.
'Slow, am I?' said James smugly.
'Bastard! Levicorpus!'
James was swiftly hoisted into the air, arms flailing and glasses hanging off his pink face as he laughed.
'All right, all right,' said Frank patiently, though Remus was sure he was holding back a smirk. 'Fun little spells you have there, haven't heard of them myself, but they're not particularly useful against Death Eaters, are they?'
'How dare you?' said James indignantly, hands on his hips as he still hung upside down. 'These are highly effective spells that we have used against a great number of enemies.' Remus was still snorting out a piece of sheet, so only nodded his support.
Frank gave a lazy swish of his wand and James fell ungracefully to the ground, still grinning in amusement. 'Dumbledore will not take you on the raid if he doesn't think you'll take it seriously. This isn't playground duelling, people die doing this stuff - you have to be prepared for life or death situations. '
'You want us to use unforgivables?' squeaked Peter. 'Because I won't do that, Frank, I really won't…'
'Me neither,' said Lily stubbornly.
'That's not what I'm saying,' said Frank calmly. He looked at them in a pondering sort of way. 'You just need to be willing to be a bit more… Aggressive. Do you know the bloodfire curse?'
Sirius stiffened, but Remus didn't have a clue, and from the expressions of everyone else, neither did they.
Frank leant against the table they had pushed against the wall, looking remarkably like a teacher. 'It's a curse that causes no external damage, but leaves a line of internal burning. In severe cases it can kill, but it mostly just causes people to fall unconscious.'
'That's horrible,' said Lily, aghast. 'It must be terrifying.'
'It's not particularly pleasant, no,' said Frank lightly. 'And rather painful, or so I hear.'
'It's dark,' said Sirius sourly. 'I heard about it off my brother. It's a dark spell.'
'Lots of spells can be used in a dark way,' said Frank casually. 'Wingardium leviosa can be used to threaten or kill people over great heights.'
'That's different,' said Lily, her eyes narrow. 'This spell hasn't got a good use, this is only used for suffering. I'd rather just use a disarming spell or a stunner. It's quicker and-''
'You may think differently in the heat of a battle… Anger takes over you... Obviously I'd rather we'd just use stunners, but sometimes it's just not good enough,' said Frank. His gaze wandered to James. 'You're unusually quiet,' he said with a slight smile.
James looked rather perturbed; he seemed unable to look at Lily or Sirius. 'How do you cast it?' he asked.
'James!' Lily gasped.
'What?' he said defensively. 'I just would consider it, all right? Think about what they did at that cafe! I stunned one of them and within a few minutes one of his friends had cast Rennervate and he was back in the action!'
Remus found that he tentatively agreed. He thought about little Joey Lee's face, and thought that whoever had caused that deserved nothing less. But the acknowledgement that someone might deserve it, and the thought that he could actually do it was quite different.
'I wouldn't use it to deliberately hurt someone,' James continued, still with that defensive edge to his voice. 'Just to stop them. Make sure they can't fight back and end up getting arrested.'
Frank nodded. 'If you use it for any other purpose, you would rightfully be arrested. Whether any of you end up using it is another story, but I think you should at least have it within your capabilities.'
Sirius's expression was strange; there was reluctance there, certainly, but also a dark determination as he stood. 'It's a last resort thing?' he clarified.
Frank nodded. 'Of course it is.'
'Well I'm not volunteering for everyone to practice on,' said Peter, alarmed.
'We won't practice on anyone,' said Frank. 'You're not children anymore, you'll be able to pick it up with an understanding of the theory behind it. Now, the incantation is perurio, and the wand movement is a heavy swipe down, like so…'
They began to practice, careful not to aim at one another, flashes of purple flames seemingly absorbing into the walls and floorboards, leaving no trace. Lily's heart was clearly not in it; she only attempted the spell when Frank was looking at her, and her face was miserable. Emmeline was better, but, like Remus, seemed to have flashes of guilt when the curse was performed correctly.
'Bit of a melodramatic name, really,' said Sirius. 'Dark magic always seems to have unnecessarily evil sounding names.'
'Well it's meant to strike fear into the hearts of men, isn't it?' said James. 'You wouldn't be worried if it was the "lightly toasted organs curse", but if someone threatens you with a bloodfire curse you know you need to get out of there quick.'
'I'm just saying, dark wizards have a way with words,' said Sirius, as he sent another string of purple flames harmlessly into the skirting board. 'Maybe they would be happier if they wrote poetry or something.'
Sirius and James both seemed to have mastered it swiftly, with Remus and the girls not far behind, but Peter became increasingly flustered as he failed to produce the purple flames like everyone else. He shook his wand frantically, growling out the incantation with growing sloppiness as a blush grew over his cheeks.
'You're just making it worse for yourself, don't worry,' said James. 'No need to get all worked up-'
'Easy for you to say,' snapped Peter, still red in the face. 'Everything always comes naturally to you, doesn't it?'
James's eyebrows rose; he didn't seem to know how to react to Peter's unusual outburst. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Emmeline's sharp voice.
'What was that? Can you hear that?'
They all paused, and heard the faint sounds of shouting and clattering below. Then, loud enough to stand out from the rest of the noise, a deep, low cry of pain.
They didn't hesitate. All of them ran from the room, wands at the ready, adrenaline already kicking in ready for a fight.
The sight in the hallway below them as they charged down the stairs was not a fight, but was nonetheless horrific. A trail of blood glinting on the dark floorboards, and a staggering mass of people who seemed to be unsteadily guiding someone through to the meeting room, half dragging him with his arms slung round their shoulders.
'Merlin, what's happened?' exclaimed Emmeline, as they heard Fabian's voice shouting for Dorcas.
They joined the bottle neck at the doorway to the meeting room, and now Remus saw that a few members of the Order were sporting minor injuries; Edgar seemed to be clutching his left arm to his chest, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore both looked battered and bruised - the ends of Sturgis's straw-coloured hair seemed to be smoking slightly.
'What happened?' he asked Sturgis. 'What's going on?'
'We was ambushed,' he said gruffly. 'Old Moody got something nasty to the face.'
'He looks terrible,' said Marlene, turning around to speak to them in a hushed tone. 'I think it's really serious…'
'Let me through,' said Lily firmly, her face set in determination. 'I'm assistant to Dorcas, let me through…'
As the crowd parted for her, Remus and the others nipped in behind, morbid curiosity and fear compelling them through the crowd that was craning their necks into the meeting room. Moody was reclined back in a chair, Dorcas and Professor Dumbledore standing over him, examining the grotesque wound.
His face was a mess of congealed blood, a dark shadow over the upper half of his left side. Remus thought he might be sick - even the blast at Diagon Alley hadn't exposed him to injuries quite this horrific, or perhaps he had not taken the time to truly look.
Moody was moaning thickly, blood occasionally splattering from his mouth. 'Piece of hippogriff shit,' he spat. 'I'll get him back for this Albus, you watch me.'
'Lily,' called Dorcas with a sort of calm urgency, 'Reach into my pack and find the blood replenishing potion at once, then watch me carefully. I think the eye is gone, but I may be able to reconstruct the structure of zygomatic and lacrimal bone-'
Lily rushed forwards, pale-faced but with steady hands. Professor Dumbledore looked up at the gathered crowd. 'Enough of that, thank you,' he said, as though he had found them running in corridors.
The crowd obeyed and filtered away from the room to give Moody his privacy. Remus felt rooted to the spot, but Sirius roughly pulled at his shoulder, and he shook himself out of it, stumbling after his friends as they slowly trudged away.
Kingsley was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his hands gripping at his afro, heavy bloodstains on his green Muggle-style trousers.
'Kingsley!' said James, rushing forward. 'What happened?'
Kingsley looked up, wiping a smear of blood off his face with the back of his hand. His jaw was set in fury. 'We went to go and arrest someone for Dumbledore,' he said hollowly. 'But the info was wrong. They were waiting for us and outnumbered us. Moody was hit as soon as he went through the door.'
Sirius swore and began to pace. 'Bastards,' he muttered. 'Sick bastards…'
'Where did he get the info from?' asked Peter curiously. 'Surely now he knows that whoever-'
Kingsley shook his head with a murderous expression. 'I don't know. Only Dumbledore knows. But whoever did this to Moody-'
'He'll be all right,' said James. 'Dorcas and Lily will patch him up, he's a tough old bastard.'
Kingsley nodded grimly. 'It was a close shave though,' he said. 'Sturgis missed a killing curse by inches... And clearly someone's messing us around. Giving false information and deliberately leading us into traps.'
'I'm sure they didn't do it on purpose,' said James, still with that calm voice. 'Come on, you need to get cleaned up.'
Sirius and James both heaved Kingsley to his feet. 'I'm fine,' he told him, and, as always, his voice was so smooth and calm that Remus almost believed him. 'I'm training to be an Auror, I'm used to it all.'
'Yeah, we know, mate,' said Sirius. 'But you look terrible.'
'He's right,' said James. 'You're leaving bloody handprints everywhere, it's depressing. Let's go to the kitchen.'
They were not the only ones in the kitchen; Marlene and Lewis McKinnon were talking in low voices at the kitchen table, the Prewett boys had found some whisky.
'Where are the Longbottoms?' Kingsley asked as he washed at the sink.
'They've gone with Edgar and Sturgis, they're waiting to talk to Dumbledore,' said Marlene solemnly.
'Do you think Moody will be OK?' asked Gideon.
'Well he's alive,' said Kingsley. 'And talking. Cheers,' he added, as Fabian handed him a glass. 'Could have been a lot worse.'
Remus took his too; the amber liquid emboldened him a little. The overwhelming feeling of horror as he thought of Moody's wound gave way to anger, and he found that satisfying. There was a certain camaraderie in their shared anger, a knowledge that they were all strengthened to keep fighting.
Kingsley finished washing, pulled his shirt back on and leant against the sink with a heavy sigh. He told them about the events of that evening, describing in detail how they had gone to arrest Evan Rosier in connection with the disappearance of a Cornish witch, on the assurance that he would be at the Winking Cyclops pub on the outskirts of Upper Flagley. Yet when they had arrived, the pub was closed, dark and empty. They had supposed he was hiding in there, so entered, only to be attacked immediately, and from all sides.
'We were lucky to get out of there alive,' finished Kingsley bitterly. He swore. 'Moody even said it was probably a trap, but we never thought there would be that many.'
'Right, come on lads,' came Edgar's voice suddenly. They turned to see him in the doorway, grim-faced and wand in hand, a gaggle of angry-looking Order members behind him. 'Get your cloaks, we're off.'
'Off where?' asked Remus.
'Well we're not standing for that, are we?' said Alice, her lips pursed in determination. 'No one does that to Moody and gets away with it. You coming, Kingsley?'
'Absolutely,' said Kingsley, rolling over the word with vicious enjoyment.
'We're getting them back,' said Frank. 'Now, while we're all feeling brave about it.'
Sirius had a look of dark excitement about him; Remus wouldn't have been surprised if he'd licked his lips. 'We're off for a proper fight then?'
Edgar nodded. 'We've persuaded Dumbledore to let us move the raid to tonight. You in?'
'Should we? Tonight?' asked Peter nervously. 'Doesn't it seem a bit rash? I mean, we were meant to do it next week and have longer to go over the-'
'No time like the present,' said Edgar. 'And haven't you lot been preparing for this raid for a while? Duelling practice and all sorts? And you all know what we're looking for there, don't you?'
'Well, yes, but-'
'Come on then.'
'No,' said James suddenly, and Remus spotted him glowering at Lily, who was lurking at the back of the group. 'You're not coming! I thought you were looking after Moody anyway?'
She drew herself a little taller, smoothing down her slightly blood-stained robes. 'Well Dorcas is busy with him and someone with healing skills needs to be there. Not to mention I play a role in the whole scheme, it's been that way since the start, so yes I bloody well am coming, James, I'm part of the Order just as much as you.'
'Quite right,' said Fabian, with a wink. 'A bloody difficult woman. That's what we like to see, eh, Gideon?'
'Most certainly, Fabian.'
'Lily,' said Marlene softly, 'How is he? Moody?'
Lily swallowed. 'He's lost an eye,' she said calmly, though Remus could see the slightest of trembles at her chin. 'But he'll be all right.'
There was a brief silence.
'Right then,' said Edgar briskly. 'You all know the drill. They've found themselves a battered old farm in County Durham, got rid of the Muggles inside it, and turned it into their own little lair for tormenting people in. Not unlike the one they took me to last summer.'
'Does everyone remember their roles and what to do?' said Frank authoritatively. 'You've all seen the plans and layouts, but if you need to remind yourself, now is the time to do so. You understand what we need?'
They all nodded. Remus privately would have liked to have looked again; unlike James, Sirius and Peter, he had not been able to practice and plan all day every day. He had simply received the summary in the evenings. But everyone else looked so impatient to go, that he felt they would decide to leave him behind if he said anything.
'Are we just going to stand around chatting all day?' snapped Sturgis. 'Let's get going.'
Remus had not been expecting to be part of a battle that night. He found himself afraid but devoutly thankful that by stroke of luck Frank had been teaching them more advanced curses, and by the look of Peter's faintly green face as they gathered to Disapparate, he was too.
…
The moon was cut firmly in half, but still gave enough ghostly light to bounce off the water of the rushing weir and silhouette the old stone buildings of the farm.
Ahead of him, Remus saw Frank push one hand down, and he obediently and silently went down onto the damp grass with everyone else. They lay there, looking ahead and listening carefully. At first, all he could hear was the low, angry rush of the river. But as he strained his ears, he soon could hear Sirius breathing next to him, unintelligible faint whispers from Alice and Frank, and the slight rustle of Peter's robes as he shifted uncomfortably.
'Remember lads,' whispered Sturgis. 'Find the documents, and then get out, don't try and be a hero. As soon as we know you've got 'em, we'll take whoever we've managed to capture and go too. Getting the files is the most important thing.'
Alice twisted and looked back at them all. She gave a nod, then raised her hand and used her fingers to count down from three.
He, James, Lily and Kingsley went one way. Alice, Edgar, Peter, Marlene and Lewis went another. Sirius, Sturgis, Frank and the Prewett brothers took the front of the farm.
Remus's heart thudded so loudly in his chest he wondered if the others could hear it. As they crawled awkwardly in the grass, their breath billowed in front of them. They dodged the light that spilled from the windows onto the field, and as they got closer, they began to hear the faint sound of voices.
They crawled alongside the edge of an old barn. At one point it must have held cows, Remus could still smell them, but it was now empty and cold, except for a dark lump in the centre. Lily rose, and, still half crouched, hurried over to it.
He couldn't see her clearly, her shadow merged into the lump with only the faintest traces of movement, but soon she was back.
'Muggles,' she said lowly. 'Dead.'
'Come on,' said Kingsley. 'The hayloft.'
The scurried across the farmyard, ducking behind rusted machinery and trying to run silently across the cobbles. Remus heard his boot scrape as he slipped on a clump of hay and mud, grabbing James roughly to stop himself from falling.
James gripped his arm tightly and pulled him towards the hayloft.
'Quickly,' he heard Lily hiss.
They reached the hayloft, the bales stacked high and the air dusty, the vast wooden beams and pillars creating a cavernous arc above them. As they went deeper into the barn, it grew steadily darker, until Kingsley dared light his wand.
In the blue light, they kicked away the fallen hay until they found a trap door, with heavy iron fittings and a rusted round handle. James leaned forward and tapped it with his wand, it opened steadily and quietly to nothing but blackness.
Kingsley went first, then Remus. He put his wand between his teeth as he lowered himself down, his hands on the cold and grimy stone floor. It was just a short drop before his feet hit the floor of the cellar below; Kingsley had raised the light a little more, and Remus could see piles of barrels and dusty bottles in wine racks.
'Ready?' Kingsley said, once James and Lily had dropped down too. They nodded.
Remus had never felt so focused. As they climbed the creaky, rotten stairs to the door of the cellar, they could hear shouting and clattering; Frank's team had begun the raid by bursting through the front door, and were no doubt locked in battle in the kitchen. The urge was to go and assist, but they had a job to do.
Remus's earlier concerns about having not seen the plans enough evaporated; he could picture the blueprints perfectly in his mind's eye, following Kingsley silently through a hallway as though he had been to the farmhouse a hundreds time before.
The gaps around the door he knew led to the kitchen were lighting up like flashes of coloured lighting, he could nothing but the yelling and screaming of curses, but Sirius's voice rang through the loudest, commanding someone to get on the floor.
They were about to ascend the dark staircase, but heard the rumbling stampede of footsteps from the hallway above. Kingsley threw out an arm, and they darted into a shadowy corner, crouching and holding their breath as they prayed they wouldn't be spotted - not yet.
Two men, burly and ferocious looking, ran down the stairs, wands out. They didn't glance to the corner at all, but headed immediately for the kitchen, wrenching the door open and charging in with deep, growling roars.
Remus heard Lily give a low, relieved exhale, and he found himself swallowing too. They had no idea if more were upstairs, but they couldn't wait long.
'I'll go first,' James whispered. 'I've got my cloak.' Kingsley gave him a sharp nod, and within seconds James threw the silvery invisibility cloak over himself.
Now they waited, Remus acutely aware of how heavily he was breathing but unable to work out how to stop it. The door to the kitchen had been left open, and he could see the Prewett brothers through the gap, both of them dueling the same man, who seemed to be backing uneasily into the larder. He knew that soon Alice's team would sweep through the rest of the house, looking for any hiders or prisoners.
He vaguely heard a squeaking and saw a rat scurrying down the corridor out of the corner of his eye, but forced himself to look back up to the shadowy stairs, the little square landing before they curved out of sight.
In what felt like hours but was more likely seconds, James appeared there, his head, one arm and half his torso bizarrely floating in midair. He gestured to them to follow, and they did so, trying their best to run up the creaky stairs without making a noise, though they surely would not have been heard from the kitchen anyway.
James pulled the cloak off entirely as they reached the study, shoved it into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a cigarette.
'Really?' said Lily dryly, and to his astonishment Remus found himself smirking. 'Here? Now?'
'I'm stressed,' was James's casual response as he lit up. 'Kingsley, where d'you want me?'
'You search the desk,' Kingsley said. 'I'll take that bureau- Remus, Lily, will you-?'
'On it,' said Lily at once. 'Come on, Remus.'
In one corner, barely noticeable from the doorway they had just entered, was a tall, narrow door. Behind it, steep steps led up to a tiny attic room, filled with trunks and boxes and piles of old books and newspapers. Lily rushed to a trunk and threw it open, Remus knelt by a stack of faded papers that were spilling over an old collapsed armchair. Up here, they could only faintly hear the fighting in the kitchen. Or perhaps it was that the others had successfully arrested them.
They worked quickly, barely glancing at the papers and photographs in their hands as they rifled through them. After several minutes, Lily gave a heavy sigh.
'Would they really have put anything up here?' asked Lily, an edge of frustration to her voice.
'They have to keep them somewhere,' replied Remus, though he was also starting to wonder if this was simply an exercise in pointlessness.
'This is all Muggle stuff though, I don't thi-' Lily stopped suddenly, perfectly still as she stared back towards the stairs. From the room below, they could hear a low voice, and it certainly did not belong to James or Kingsley.
With light feet, they crept back down the narrow staircase - Lily went first, as she was more nimble than Remus, so he found himself looking over her shoulder as they peered through the gap of the ajar door, knowing it would creak if they pushed it. Two Death Eaters had entered the study; they could see that one had pushed Kingsley to the floor and was holding his wand against the back of his neck, and the other was stood in front of James, swearing and spitting vicious threats at him.
James was sat at the desk, looking remarkably relaxed for someone who had a wand pointed in his face. His hands were up, but he was still lazily leaning on his elbows, and the cigarette in the corner of his mouth added extra arrogance to his smirk. His wand lay on the desk in front of him; Remus supposed he had been forced to drop it, or perhaps in typical James fashion he had left it lying there anyway and been caught unawares.
'...Drop them now and come quietly,' the Death Eater was saying. Remus could detect a hint of nervousness in the voice.
'I don't think it's worth your time,' James responded cheerfully. 'We have what we need, and from the sounds of it my friends downstairs do too. It's over.'
'It's over when I say it's fucking over,' said the Death Eater, his voice quavering almost to a shout. 'Now hand it over and come with me, or we'll kill your fucking friend, got it?'
'I don't think you will,' said James, and, eyes still fixed on the Death Eater he slowly lowered one of his hands to take his cigarette, blowing a cloud of steady smoke. 'You want us as bargaining tools, don't you? You know some of your mates are arrested downstairs.'
'Doesn't stop me hurting you,' warned the Death Eater. 'And if you think you can handle what I'll do to you, you're stupider than you look. I'll have you begging for death, and I'll send you back to your mother piece by piece. You pathetic, mudblood-loving piece of shit.'
'Maybe you're right,' said James simply. 'But you're also stupider than you look if you think you can win in a fight against my fiancee.'
Before the Death Eaters had a chance to respond, Lily and Remus burst into the room. Remus leapt forward with a 'Stupefy!' at the Death Eater holding Kingsley, but Lily shot forward like a bludger, screaming her spell with such a fury that Remus didn't hear what it was.
The Death Eater gave a bewildered shriek of pain; several small items dropped to the floor, shortly followed by the Death Eater himself as Lily rugby-tackled his legs.
'Caecus funeus,' said James. The Death Eater jerked on the floor, his arms snapping to the sides and he began wriggling and wailing on the floor, as though bound by invisible ropes. 'Nice one, Lils.'
There seemed to be a lot of blood around, and it wasn't until Remus saw the small items that had dropped to the floor that he understood why.
'Lily!' he said, astonished. 'Are those his fingers?'
'Yeah.' She seemed highly unconcerned.
'Fucking hell, Lily,' said James, though he looked very proud. 'All that fuss you made about that curse earlier.'
A sudden pounding up the stairs, panting, someone shouting their names - they all spun to see Peter, Marlene and Lewis at the door. 'We heard yelling-' began Peter.
'Nice of you to show up,' said James. 'Kingsley and I were being held hostage, and Lily cut off a man's fingers.'
At his feet, the Death Eater gave another low, moaning wail. Peter's eyes widened. 'How did you do that?'
'I'll show you later,' said Lily.
'Did you get it?' asked Lewis urgently. 'Did you find the-'
'Course we did,' James said, grinning cockily. He leaned back and picked up a pile of documents, with a triumphant flourish. 'You lot have been busy, haven't you? The full files of every employee in the Muggle Liaison office. Now who gave you copies of these?'
….
They were all roaring with laughter, crammed into the kitchen of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Gideon and Fabian had broken out the whisky again, but this time the atmosphere was far less somber.
'Enjoyed your little victory speech, didn't you?' Remus was saying teasingly, leaning forward and pointing at James with his glass. 'Rhetorical questions and all, you pillock.'
Everyone laughed again, and James held his hands up in mock shame. 'Come on, come on,' he called. 'I'm sure you can understand, he got his little speech, then I got mine.'
'Sat there with a right smug expression,' added Kingsley. 'Not a care in the world. Practically posing.'
'Excuse me, Mr Auror-in-training, but I think you'll find I did your job for you,' said James, to a chorus of joking "ooh"s. 'Thanks to me, the entire Muggle Liaison office is safe and some poor cowardly rat in the department is going to go into work on Monday and find himself promptly arrested for being a spy.' Lily coughed loudly, and James quickly gave a dramatic gesture to her. 'Of course, sorry, not just thanks to me, I should of course mention my surprisingly cool and worryingly vicious fiancee.'
Lily bowed her head in appreciation of the drunken and laughing applause she received. 'Are you talking about the finger-removing jinx, or the way I tackled him?'
'You tackled him?' exclaimed Alice, with wide eyes. 'Right on!'
'That's not fair,' said Fabian. 'I tried a bit of Muggle fighting myself, thought it would be more satisfying but I don't think I'm cut out for it. I crept up behind one of them and tried to do that thing where you snap their necks, but all that happened was he looked to the left really quickly. Had to settle for a jinx instead.'
They descended once again into hysterics, Remus practically choking on his drink, Marlene wiping tears from her eyes.
'Seriously though, Lily,' said Frank. 'You removed a man's fingers. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you.'
'Oh, he'll get them back!' said Lily with a slight roll of her eyes. 'Assuming he gets medical attention fast enough.'
'Any room in here for one more?' came a gruff voice.
There were cries, whoops and squeals of happiness as Moody came to join them, half his face heavily bandaged with a large patch where his eye used to be, and looking a little pale, but grinning and demanding a drink. Many of them took turns to embrace him, and when he saw that they had nearly finished the bottle of whisky, he raised his wand and summoned another bottle from his personal store.
'No, no, don't open it!' cried Lily. They all looked at her, bewildered and slightly pissed off that she apparently wanted to stop the party. 'That looks like a really nice bottle,' she said. I'll go get us some wine instead, but that one should be saved.'
'We have a lot to celebrate,' said Gideon, looking rather amused. 'If Moody wants to waste his nice bottle on us, let him.'
'Nah, she's right,' said Moody. 'I'm putting this one in the cupboard, and we're not opening it til we get every bastard Death Eater in the country, and their fucking leader too!'
They gave an almighty cheer, a quill was whipped out, and the label of the firewhisky was promptly added to.
Not to be opened until the end of the fucking war.
