Chapter 14: The New Marauders
Harry surveyed the group of students surrounding him; all in all, nearly half of their year group had agreed to Harry and Daphne's idea of an interhouse study (social) group. From Gryffindor, Harry and Neville had only invited Hermione Granger and Sophie Roper –they had originally hoped to invite Dean as well, but he had become something of a package deal with Seamus and Ron, who neither Harry nor Neville were particularly very fond of. Daphne had brought her friends –though she still stubbornly referred to them as 'allies' when she spoke of them –Tracey, Blaise and Millie. All three had become permanent fixtures under Daphne's purview –in truth, the three Slytherins had quickly come to realize they could count themselves extremely lucky that they had Daphne to lead them in opposition to Draco and Pansy's unbearable reign of terror. Susan and Hannah had recruited from Hufflepuff –they had more or less taken the Hufflepuff Muggleborns under their wing (Hufflepuff had the largest number of Muggleborns by far) –Justin Finch-Fletchley, Roger Malone, and Oliver Rivers. They had also brought two childhood friends of theirs, Lily Moon and Stephen Cornfoot –both were from family lines that could already qualify as Ancient, but had not bothered to petition the Wizengamot for representation. None of the friends knew the Ravenclaws well, but Harry had formed a tentative friendship with Padma Patil in Charms class, so Padma and her friends Lisa Turpin and Ivy Runcorn were attending as well –Ivy was the final Muggleborn in their year (for a total of five –though there were six if you counted Dean, who was at least muggle-raised) and Lisa was another member of an unofficial Ancient family, though she herself was a half-blood.
Though they often joked about being overrun by Hufflepuffs, the group of students worked well together –despite a bit of initial friction from Blaise and Millie, who had never been exposed to so many non-traditionalists, especially ones who were so willing to be openly friendly with them. It was rather unwieldly for all eighteen of them to meet very often, but they were able to locate an abandoned classroom near the library to meet once a week on Sunday afternoons. During the remainder of the week (weekdays, at least), Daphne, Harry, Neville, Susan and Hannah spent many evenings in the library after dinner –sometimes studying, sometimes talking quietly. Tracey, Blaise and Millie occasionally joined them, but even when they didn't, they would set themselves up somewhere else in the library, within sight of the group of friends, and wait until Daphne was ready to leave. It wasn't a good idea to wander alone as a Slytherin First Year, particularly if you were not of a noble house. So, Tracey and Blaise in particular preferred to stay in Daphne's radius as often as possible and, despite being a member of a noble house herself, Millie was not interested in being caught alone near Draco and Pansy.
On Saturdays, Harry would rope Neville into going down to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the Gryffindor team practice. Harry did like Quidditch, but he was particularly interested in watching his friends Fred and George play. The boys had started playing on the team shortly into the season the previous year –one of the former Beaters had graduated and had yet to be replaced and the other had quit to focus on his NEWTs, much to Oliver Wood's chagrin. Oliver was quite upset again today; the newbie Seeker, a seventh year who had joined as a favor to Wood, had quit as well after just a few weeks of enduring her seventh-year course load. Fred and George, who had been flying with Harry for years, begged Oliver to let him tryout –blatantly ignoring Hogwarts flying regulations, of course. So, on a chilly Saturday at the end of September, Oliver Wood flew into the stands to entreat the Boy-Who-Lived to try his hand at catching a snitch. Within the hour, Harry was officially the youngest member of a Hogwarts House team in over a century.
The entire affair made Neville exceedingly nervous for his friends –he was certain one of them would soon be injured –but he resigned himself to learning all the rules and regulations for school-level Quidditch so he could both cheer on his friends, and endeavor to protect them if need be. Neville knew it was something Susan and Hannah would have done to help him (and Daphne and Luna for Harry, but that was beside the point, since Neville was only interested in a certain pair of 'Puffs). So, Neville was particularly eager to review everything he could before the first match, which was against Slytherin.
As it turned out, Neville was right to be worried.
It quickly became clear that Terrence Higgs –the lumbering Slytherin Seeker –had explicit instructions to block Harry from pursuing the snitch at all costs. Up in the stands, Neville had chosen to sit two seats down from Lee Jordan and Professor McGonagall, determined to get her involved immediately if he noticed anything illegal in the gameplay. (Though Madame Hooch was officially the referee, McGonagall had the right to call on gameplay from the top box, as well.) Daphne, Tracey, Blaise and Millie were seated a few rows in front of them, dressed in plain black robes and entirely too composed for Quidditch fans. Susan and Hannah sat beside Neville wearing flashy Gryffindor colors and cheering loudly for Harry and the Weasley twins. Neville –for perhaps the only time in his short life –ignored the two girls (Susan even squeezed his hand occasionally, but he hadn't noticed) in favor of watching Harry closely.
All of a sudden, Neville saw something. He leapt to his feet with a speed Susan and Hannah had never seen from him before. "That's illegal!" he shouted, directing his attention to his Transfiguration Professor. "Illegal interference with the Seeker!"
With a quick glance at Harry, who had nearly been thrown off his broom by an open-handed, head-on hit from Higgs, McGonagall set off a bang with her wand, stopping play immediately. Madame Hooch flew up to consult with her, both women glancing at Neville briefly, and then Hooch announced, "Illegal open-handed blocking of the Gryffindor Seeker by the Slytherin Seeker –Higgs will be grounded for five minutes!"
Two minutes later, Harry had caught the snitch and Neville slumped in relief, finally noticing Susan's hand in his with a blush.
Outside of Hogwarts, autumn had progressed a bit differently. On September 1st, 'Don't call me Nymphadora' Tonks waited nervously in the Ministry Atrium with the other new auror recruits. She wondered briefly –anxiously –how Harry's first day would go, but reminded herself that she could visit Sirius and Remus to talk to him on the mirror later that night. So, she refocused her attention on her companions. This year, there were sixteen hopefuls, including Dora herself. She recognized about half of them as her year mates, the remainder were up to about five years older –surely, they had either already failed out once, or tried their hand at something else before ending up there.
The DMLE's official training program lasted two years –the first year consisted of formal training in combat, investigation, official procedure, etc., taught by instructors, who were mostly former aurors, and followed by a series of exhaustive exams. Then, during the second year, passing recruits rotated through the department to gain experience in each section. After completing their rotations, recruits were tested one final time and placed as a junior auror based on their results and recommendations by their supervisors. However, before any real training began, hopefuls with the correct NEWT qualifications were sent out to shadow an auror for the day (this typically resulted in a few dropping out, once they realized the job was not quite as glamorous as they had supposed).
Traditionally, the shadow program made use of the most boring or unpleasant positions to scare away wishy-washy recruits and thrill-seekers. But Dora was lucky –or unfairly privileged, if you looked at it another way –she had been specifically requested by soon-to-be Senior Auror Sirius Black. Though Dora was a bit reluctant to expose herself to accusations of favoritism from the other recruits, she was also determined to make the most of her connections to come out ahead. She was already at a severe disadvantage as both female and a half-blood, anyway.
Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour –who clearly hated this aspect of his job –gruffly barked out their assignments. A group of general aurors herded their assigned recruits away as he spoke. Soon, Dora was the only one left. Scrimgeour glared at her in silence, for long enough to make her fidget nervously. "Auror Black," he growled scathingly, "is in a meeting with the Director. Come." Without so much as another glance, he spun on his heel and strode towards the lifts. Dora scrambled after him, realizing two things immediately –the other recruits weren't the only ones who would resent her for favoritism and Sirius had not been exaggerating the Head Auror's hatred for him.
Dora tried very hard not to tremble as she stepped into the lift behind Scrimgeour. He was silent as they waited to arrive on Level 2. When the lift opened, he again strode purposefully (and entirely too quickly for her to keep up without jogging) into the department. He then came to a sudden stop –Dora had almost crashed right into him –and spoke without looking at her. "Sit here," he said, gesturing vaguely at the desk next to them and then departing without another word or glance.
Dora perched carefully on a chair, looking around uncertainly. The desk in front of her was covered in a mess of parchment, broken quills, and half-empty ink pots, but Dora sighed in relief upon noticing a framed photo of Harry displayed in the far corner. Reassured that she had not been dumped in the wrong place –based on his behavior, she wouldn't be surprised if Scrimgeour had left her somewhere out of spite –Dora turned to observe the Auror Office. She had been too focused on not losing sight of Scrimgeour on the way in, but she supposed they must have passed the Law Enforcement Patrol Office, and possibly the Hit Wizard Office as well. The Wizengamot Administration Service and Improper Use of Magic Offices were both further away from the lifts, she thought. There were about a dozen aurors milling about the office at the moment –so about half of the investigative department. Dora had quizzed Sirius extensively about the department over the years, so she knew there were four investigative units in the Auror Office. Currently, each was made up of one Senior Auror and four general aurors, though the number and makeup of the units tended to fluctuate depending on the department's needs or the qualifications of the current aurors. The only exception was Sirius himself, who had been added to Moody's team as an extra hand. The Auror Office, as a result, was physically small. There were enough desks for all twenty-one aurors and, in a secluded corner, the Head Auror's desk took up a fair amount of space, but it was not enclosed in an office. Beside Scrimgeour's desk (where he currently sat surlily) was the Director's Office, her assistant positioned in front of the closed door. The assistant was the only non-auror in the office, since the research team was located in a far-off corner of the Law Enforcement Patrol Office.
Dora was just beginning to get bored when the door to the Director's Office opened. Sirius Black exited with a smile on his face, followed by a scowling Senior Auror Moody. However, Moody's expression didn't make her cringe in the same way Scrimgeour's did, Moody came off as generally irritable, but not directed at her in particular. As Dora rose to greet Sirius, who was clearly about to open his arms for an embarrassing hug –she had had a rather awkward crush on both Sirius and Remus when she was fifteen, much to both men's continued amusement –she saw a flicker of light out of the corner of her eye. From instinct born from regular dueling practice for the past four years, Dora sidestepped the spell in surprise, her wand flicking into her hand from her wrist holster. The dodged stunner, clearly cast by Moody, splashed against the side of Sirius' desk harmlessly. Dora stared open-mouthed at the grizzled auror.
Moody's mouth twisted into some sort of grimace. "Constant vigilance, recruit." He barked loudly.
"Certainly, Senior Auror Moody." She responded dryly, keeping her wand at a ready position in her hand.
Sirius smirked. "Moody," he chided in an amused tone. "This is Nymphadora Tonks, my cousin Andromeda's daughter."
"Just Tonks, please." She interjected quickly, rolling her eyes at her favorite cousin.
Moody surveyed her for a moment. With a nod, he agreed. "Tonks it is then."
Harry had quickly found that homework, Quidditch and keeping up a steady stream of communication with his family took up a large portion of his time. He spoke to Sirius and Remus on the mirror a couple times a week –the bare minimum to avoid Sirius frantically inundating him with letters and missed calls. Harry never would have guessed that Sirius could be quite this clingy, but then, Remus had sheltered him from the worst of Sirius' habits over the years, so he had simply never experienced it. He wrote back and forth with Luna nearly constantly –at night, between classes, while he was supposed to be doing homework. Still, it wasn't enough and the Bond ached all the time. Hedwig was also flying back and forth to London once or twice a week with a letter to Dora. Their betrothal wouldn't be announced until Harry turned 13, so only Daphne knew that Harry was not sending those letters to his guardians.
Saturdays were the only days Harry had free time with any type of consistency. Today was October 26th and Fred, George and Harry had finally found time to have a meeting of the New Marauders. They had agreed to reprise the Marauders nearly two years ago, when Fred and George had found the Marauder's Map and immediately recognized the names on it. They had been using it throughout their first and second years, but had obligingly handed it off to Harry at the beginning of the year, easily agreeing it was his birthright. Today, the three conspirators were planning a prank for the Halloween Feast. Fred and George had tweaked one of their prototype prank potions, which would force the drinker to communicate in only animal noises for an hour. Harry's contribution was to wheedle an agreement from the Hogwarts house elves to allow them to spike the pumpkin juice in the Great Hall –admittedly, and perhaps strangely, they hadn't been very difficult to convince. Still, Fred and George started praising him as the 'house elf whisperer' as a result. (When Harry had told Sirius and Remus, they suggested that perhaps the elves were subconsciously picking up on his true bond to Mimsy and were honoring her loyalty in some way.)
The three boys passed the evening talking, planning and playing games –Mimsy reluctantly brought them something to eat for dinner, scolding them for not participating in school functions. Harry thanked her so profusely she blushed and popped away with a scowl. The three friends were so preoccupied with their activities, they did not even notice that it had approached curfew until Gemma stole into the room with a loud, insistent meow of protest. They scrambled to their feet, gathering up their belongings and shoving them into their bags quickly. Glancing at the Map –Filch was near the Great Hall –they dashed from the room.
They immediately came upon Mrs. Norris. Harry shushed Gemma, who was swaddled in his arms and all three boys ran off in the opposite direction. They dashed up a set of stairs, but before they could reach the top, the staircase swung in the opposite direction. Harry quickly got a bad feeling about the hallway they ended up in, but, hearing Filch's gasping voice behind them, and a feral hiss from Mrs. Norris, Harry ignored the feeling and pressed on. George whispered an incantation he didn't hear and all three huddled into a small room, shutting the door behind them with a loud click.
Hot, moist air blew against the back of Harry's head.
They were in the forbidden third floor corridor.
The boys were much more solemn when they finally made it back to the common room, despite their racing hearts –they were also completely out of breath and exhausted. By unspoken agreement, they went their separate ways in silence, not speaking of the 'incident' again.
The only person who learned of the whole ordeal –in excruciating detail –was Luna. She, of course, had many questions.
Whose Cerebos is it? …What's its name? ...Do you think we could be friends?
What is it doing in an old classroom, Harry? What else is there?
It was the final question that had really sent Harry's mind whirling.
Over the days leading up to Halloween, Daphne endeavored to convince Harry to leave the whole issue alone. (Meanwhile, Luna continued to pepper him with endless questions and theories.) As usual, Harry tended to lean towards Luna's view of things –there was a reason they had organically Bonded and become best friends, after all. By the time the Halloween feast finally rolled around, Harry had convinced himself to take a second look, with or without Daphne's company. He carefully folded his invisibility cloak –which Sirius had recovered from Dumbledore over a year ago after searching through the Potter family vault and manor with no luck –and placed it in his pocket alongside the Map to bring with him to the Great Hall. He hoped he would get a chance to break away during the exodus back to the dorms at the end of the feast.
With everyone seated at the table together for the first time since the sorting, the Gryffindor first years had to squeeze in at the end of the table, near the doors. Harry and Neville, as usual, were directly across from Hermione and Sophie –it seemed to Harry that the two girls were friends due to circumstance more than any true sentiment between them, but they stuck together loyally regardless. Ron, Dean and Seamus sat beside them –Hermione and Ron kept sending nasty looks at each other, as Ron had been rather rude to Hermione after Charms class (she had the audacity to try to correct his pronunciation of the levitation charm, much to his mortification), but Sophie, Harry and Neville had all defended their study group mate, avoiding most of the potential drama. Pressed up against Harry's left elbow, Lavender squealed loudly to Parvati over the latest issue of Witch Weekly. Harry studiously looked away from the magazine, having seen his own name emblazoned across the articles inside once by accident.
Neville and Harry had formed a much stronger friendship over the past couple months. Without the girls' constant presence –there was undoubtedly still quite a bit of separation between the houses, not to mention that Daphne could only get away with publicly remaining friends with them because both Harry and Neville were Heir to Wizengamot families (and, conveniently in this case, the Black name was still perceived as dark) –the two boys were spending more time together than either ever imagined they would. Harry was comfortable calling Neville his best mate –and every boy needed a best mate, Luna had told him firmly.
So, in the spirit of their new-found camaraderie, Harry was whispering to Neville, giving him the entire story about the Cerebos, explaining Luna's theories, and his plan to revisit the corridor. Neville was clearly nervous at the thought of willingly going back to the forbidden corridor, but, as usual, he was determined to help his friend. There was bravery in that kind of fierce loyalty, Harry thought warmly. So, reluctantly, Neville agreed to slip off to investigate with him after the feast.
The boys were starting to get nervous-excited by the end of the meal. Of course, this was right around the moment the time-delay on the potioned pumpkin juice was set to expire. The Great Hall suddenly filled with a cacophony of farm sounds. Harry had just noticed Dumbledore braying like a donkey when a rooster's laugh came out of his mouth, causing him to slap a hand over his face. Utter chaos reigned for a few minutes while the potion ran its course, Harry in particular couldn't stop laughing after catching a glance at Daphne's death glare sent in his direction. By Harry's count there was only about thirty seconds left on the effect when the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. Seated near the end of the table, the Gryffindor first years were some of the first to notice the movement of the doors.
Above the chaos, a voice sounded, just loud enough to be heard by all. "Troll!" Quirrell yelled, panic heavy in his tone. "Troll in the dungeons!" The noise in the Hall swelled to an all time high, then abruptly cut off to silence. "Thought you ought to know," he finished, starting to swoon. Before he could hit the ground, Percy Prewett-Weasley swished his wand, catching the professor just before he hit the ground.
Then, the screams started. Harry watched Dumbledore raise his wand and then heard the loud bang. "Silence!" He said loudly. "Prefects, please lead your houses back to your common rooms. Professors, with me."
"Excuse me, Headmaster!" Percy had stood up and looked Dumbledore in the eye confidently.
"Yes, Mr. Prewett?"
"Sir, perhaps the prefects could better keep the students safe here in the Great Hall, you could seal us in?"
The Headmaster looked vaguely surprised for a moment, but then his signature twinkle reappeared –perhaps he was remembering that the Slytherin and Hufflepuff dorms were actually located in the dungeons? "Right you are, my boy. Prefects, work together with our Head Boy and Girl to maintain order. Thank you." With that, Dumbledore swept from the Hall, followed by the rest of the staff. The doors slammed shut behind them, magically sealing with a soft glow.
Well, Harry thought, I guess we aren't going up to the third corridor tonight.
Heiress Daphne Greengrass, future Slytherin Ice Queen, ruled her subjects fairly.
Despite the fact that they were only first years, Daphne, Draco and Pansy combined had more social status and influence than the entirety of the second and third years. So, the younger years all kept an eye on the precarious Malfoy-Parkinson regime, falling into line when absolutely necessary, but mostly waiting for the dust to settle. A few of the more shrewd second and third years had begun to circle around the Greengrass Heiress, whose followers shadowed her everywhere, but also had a very different attitude compared to Draco and Pansy's sycophants. It helped, of course, that Daphne, Tracey, Blaise and Millie had all debuted towards the top of the class rankings at the end of the first month, ahead of the rest of the Slytherin first years.
By the time Malfoy had noticed a few of the second years sniffing around her for protection, Daphne had already cemented the support of Charles Vaisey, second year Slytherin from a minor pureblood family, who had just joined the Quidditch team as a reserve chaser. Vaisey was relatively popular among his peers and brought Martin MacDougal and Thomas Mulciber into the fold with him. The three boys didn't truly need much in the way of protection (at least not yet), but they did begin to seat themselves strategically near the Greengrass heiress at the house table or in the common room. Daphne allowed them as hangers-on, in return for a shot at the support of Victoria Rosier, third year Slytherin, childhood friend of Vaisey, and a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. With her support, even indirectly, Daphne knew her faction would gain credibility with the entirety of the younger years (Rosier being the only person with the social standing to challenge the three first years for control of the younger half of Slytherin), and a strengthened position would allow her some space from the Malfoy heir.
Draco, however, didn't have much appreciation for subtlety and had decided now, in the middle of the common room, was the time to confront Daphne about her associations outside of Slytherin House. "Greengrass," he began acerbically, "We need to speak about you sullying yourself, spending all your time with mudbloods and blood traitors."
Daphne, seated on a couch in the common room, surrounded by Tracey, Blaise and Millie –Vaisey, MacDougal, and Mulciber, who were across from them, watching her attentively, didn't bother getting up. "I'm certain you aren't speaking of Heir Potter-Black and Heir Longbottom," she said dryly.
"Of course, Potter and the squib and that mudblood study group of theirs –"
"Clearly, it is working," She interrupted his tirade, "Seeing as I am in the top ten of our year. And Heir Potter-Black is heir to two Wizengamot families –Most Ancient families –and both he and Longbottom will sit their seats when they turn seventeen, you can hardly say the same. My Lord Greengrass encourages me to make useful connections, after all."
"Blood traitors, both of them! At least the Malfoys haven't sullied their name with filthy half-bloods!"
"Malfoy," Daphne admonished scathingly, expertly managing to look down her nose at Draco, despite the fact that he was still standing above her. "Everyone knows Abraxas Malfoy bribed his way into the Sacred Twenty-Eight. A hundred years ago, House Malfoy was considered nothing but a foreign upstart."
Malfoy went bright red and blustered a bit. "My father –"
Daphne cut him off coldly. "Yes, I am certain Lord Malfoy would appreciate hearing how his heir antagonized Heiress Greengrass with no particular purpose and has continued to alienate Heir Potter-Black."
Sitting across the common room, Victoria Rosier smirked nastily and nodded to Daphne. Isn't it wonderful when the opposition makes your case for you?
Remus Lupin was growing complacent –or maybe a more accurate word would be bored. He spent his mornings with Luna, preparing her for Hogwarts next year; and about half the time, she stayed for the afternoon, joining him in the Grimmauld library to work on one of her various projects. The rest of the time, Luna went home to the Rookery after lunch, where she worked on the homework and projects Remus had assigned her. Sometimes her father was home, but most of the time he was at the Quibbler office or out trekking somewhere in Great Britain.
And so, Remus was often alone from shortly after lunch until dinner time, when Sirius would come home from work –though he was regularly late. On days when Xeno failed to come home in time for dinner, Libby would pop Luna back to Grimmauld to eat with Remus (and sometimes Sirius, too). Just as often, Luna slept in the spare children's room –Libby wouldn't let her sleep at home if Xeno wasn't home by nine-ish, she claimed it wasn't appropriate, even though she was always there to keep an eye on the girl. Luna kept her journal –she called it her Harry-journal –with her at all times, and wrote in it constantly, alternately amusing and wearing on Remus' patience.
Without Harry as a constant companion, and Sirius gone fifteen hours or more some days, Remus was growing lonely –even with Luna's delightful company, it was always in the back of his mind that she would be going to Hogwarts in less than a year, and then what? He dreaded the day he would have to go back out in the world and look for work again. He had grown used to the comfort of low-stress, Wolfsbane-potioned full moons with Padfoot at his side –really, he had never felt so at peace with his condition in his entire life. But he already felt guilty –at least when he had been teaching Harry, he felt like he was contributing to the household and could almost justify the situation to himself. Officially, he was still Steward Potter, but he hadn't taken on many duties; he didn't have access Harry's investments and there wasn't much else to handle except the running of Potter Manor via the elves. A family of one didn't have much in the way of affairs, after all.
However, today, Remus had been invited to dinner by their friend Saul Croaker. Xeno had disappeared on an expedition a few days ago –though this time he had actually dropped Luna off at Grimmauld Place with a weekend bag packed. Sirius was working late; so, since Remus knew Croaker found the young girl fascinating, he simply took Luna with him. To be entirely truthful, he didn't like leaving her alone if he could help it; he knew she was struggling without Harry around. Her recent demeanor reminded Remus of himself during his loneliest years while Sirius was in prison. Maybe Harry and Luna's Bond is more similar to the pack bonds than I thought, Remus mused.
"Luna!" He called, "Let's go!"
Little feet came flying down the stairs. "Sorry, Remy!" Luna's silver-gray eyes were alight with excitement, but her face still showed signs of strain. There were dark circles under her eyes, a feature seemingly out of place on a ten-year-old girl, but Remus correctly saw it as a sign of a mild bonding sickness. He had suffered similar symptoms during his years without Sirius and Harry. Luna was a very petite girl and her blonde hair shone brightly and hung in waves to her waist. Despite the shadows under her eyes, she would clearly be a beautiful girl one day.
Remus smiled softly at her and took her offered hand, stepping in to the Floo together, headed for the Three Broomsticks. It was a Friday night in November –as such, the pub was very busy, full of patrons looking for shelter from the cold and companionship. Remus put a hand on Luna's shoulder protectively, keeping her close. His eyes danced over the room, spying Croaker's upturned face in the back corner.
Croaker was an average man. He was in his early fifties, five foot ten, with graying hair that may have once been dirty blonde, but was currently a dull brown-gray. He was neither extremely fat nor thin, but would more accurately be described as soft, somewhat on the heavyset side –obviously someone who spent a large amount of time inactive behind a desk. He had warm blue eyes and laugh lines creased the skin around his eyes and mouth. He was not an altogether unattractive man, though his best days had indeed passed him by some time ago.
As Remus and Luna stepped up to the table, the sounds of the other patrons of the restaurant faded to nothing. Luna made a noise of surprise, looking at Croaker curiously, and slipped into the booth. Croaker chuckled. "A modified silencing ward, I can't stand the chaos, I must admit." Croaker answered the unasked question. Remus nodded and sat as well.
After they all had ordered, the adults began talking. Luna remained silent and observant, attempting to fade into the background –and perhaps encourage Remus and Croaker to speak about sensitive matters in front of her. The two men idly chatted as they ate. After Croaker had asked twice after Remus' work plans for the future –a question he had more or less evaded –the werewolf's curiosity was peaked.
"Croaker, you know I have trouble finding work," Remus replied gently, frowning at him. "I'll probably have to find something in the Muggle world, since Harry doesn't really need a full-time steward."
"Harry would never fire you, Remus." Croaker said amusedly.
"No. But I won't take advantage of him either, there isn't much to manage now that his elves can't handle themselves."
Croaker nodded thoughtfully. "And if I told you I might have some work for you?"
Remus' body went completely still in nervous anticipation. He kept his eyes riveted to his hands, folded around a glass of firewhiskey. "What type of work?" He murmured without looking up.
"I'd like your help with a project. With the Unspeakables."
Remus glanced up, shaking his head. "I'm not allowed to work for the Ministry."
"Not officially, no." Croaker agreed bitterly. "But the Department of Mysteries has some flexibility, we have a discretionary budget traditionally used to consult with… less savory characters."
"Like who?" Luna interjected, her curiosity getting the best of her.
Both men paused and looked over at her in faint surprise, clearly having forgotten she was there. "Oh, dark magic users of various kinds, mostly." Croaker answered non-committedly. "But, I got authorization from the Head of the Department to hire you, Remus, to help me on a project. I –well, its something I was working on with –" Croaker froze mid-sentence, eyes flicking to Luna again.
Luna's big, blue eyes met his gaze steadily. "With my mum?" She asked softly.
Croaker nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes, we had started researching soul magic and bonds. It was something that grew naturally out of our work on horcruxes for Harry. But, I am in desperate need of a partner who is similarly invested in the subject as I am. And honestly, Remus, if it wasn't for the way things are politically, you would have been recruited right after your NEWT scores were published."
Remus shifted uncomfortably under his friend's glowing praise. "I would love to help, Saul, if you're sure it won't be too much trouble."
"Not at all, my friend. I actually think you will quite like the department, I doubt you will run into many problems there. I was able to get 50 galleons a week approved for a year, but then the head of the department will want to see our progress to reassess. I was thinking you would come by in the afternoons, maybe four days a week?"
"Croaker, that's too much, I don't need–"
"Nonsense," Croaker shushed him. "It's much less than you deserve, but unfortunately the best I can do right now. One day, I will see you employed full-time by the department, I swear it," He finished, frowning.
"I don't think that is really up to you, my friend, but I appreciate the thought."
Croaker chuckled. "So, Remus, will I see you at the Ministry Monday afternoon?"
Remus smiled widely, the skin around his eyes crinkling happily. "I wouldn't miss it."
After their scare on the third floor, Fred, George and Harry were careful to only meet during the daylight hours and the three boys were nearly always found in the common room long before curfew. However, they made an exception to have a very important –and very private –conversation in November. (Unbeknownst to them, Remus and Luna were just preparing to leave Hogsmeade at that very moment after an enlightening conversation of their own.)
They met in an old classroom above the Charms corridor. Harry flopped down in a chair, leaning his elbows on the desk in front of him and rubbing his temples with a sigh. He was particularly grumpy these days, there were dark circles under his eyes and his magic was becoming snappish, even in lessons. Despite not spending nearly as much time with Harry as his year mates, even Fred and George had begun to worry about their young friend –and Neville was beside himself, naturally. The only time Harry seemed to relax and settle at all was when he was in close proximity to Daphne. As a result, Susan and Hannah had scoured the castle for somewhere quiet they could spend their evenings. They had lucked out and come across a room full of what seemed to be out of date common room furniture above the library. The five friends had taken to meeting there to study every evening, which often included Harry falling asleep peacefully with his head in Daphne's lap whenever his essays were finished. It was at these times that Daphne could feel Harry's magic brushing hers, and though she hardly understood how, she knew what his magic was really searching for was Luna.
But Fred and George refrained from asking after Harry's health, having had their heads bitten off about it often enough lately. Instead, they had decided to introduce an idea they hoped would suitably distract Harry. To that end, one twin pulled a worn tome from the depths of his bag. Harry glanced up at the movement, watching the older boy curiously.
"Did we come here to study, George?" He asked in disbelief.
"Oi, I'm George!" The other twin protested, looking sufficiently affronted.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You know that doesn't work on me, Fred."
George smirked. "Nicked this one from the restricted section, Harrykins."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "How?"
"Never you mind, Harrykins." Fred interrupted as George tossed the book on the table.
Harry flipped the book open, reading over the contents. His lips curled into a smile and he glanced up at the twins again. "I'm not sure our magic is mature enough to support the animagus transformation, George." He said in amusement.
"Not yet, no. But who says we can't be prepared?"
The boys grinned and, uncharacteristically, spent the rest of the night huddled over a book.
Dora was utterly exhausted. It was Friday, December 13th, 1991 and she had just completed her first round of auror exams. She'd never have guessed anything could be more taxing than taking seven N.E.W.T.s, but she would have been wrong. The practical portion of the auror exams alone blew them out of the water. However, in a rare show of mercy, the recruits would not be required back in the classroom until Monday the 30th. Somehow, despite the fact she felt she could sleep the entire weekend, Sirius had roped her into coming to a dinner party that evening. Something had pushed her to agree, despite being in no shape to be amongst company.
Not trusting herself to apparate, Dora stepped into her parents Floo after showering and changing. She was late getting to Grimmauld, but she suspected Sirius was often late to his own dinner parties these days as well. Easily detecting voices further into the house, she walked through the empty formal rooms to the back den. Sirius seemed to be acting out a dramatic story as she arrived, so she was able to slip in and take a seat next to Remus without any fuss.
The whole family was already present. Arcturus sat on a couch across the room beside his daughter and her husband. Dora thought he looked impossibly old and tired. He was smiling fondly at his grandson, but Dora was certain she could detect pain in his eyes. Aunt Cassie was present as well, prodding Remus about something from the other side of the couch the three of them were sitting in. Dora heard Luna mentioned, but her attention was redirected to Sirius, who was attempting to get Moody's help with his reenactment. The old auror, sitting alone with his back against a wall, was not obliging. Dora noticed Croaker on the opposite side of the room laughing at Moody's expense when a flash of blonde rushed up in her peripheral vision.
Dora turned to look at the newcomer. It was Luna Lovegood, who Dora hadn't seen since Harry's birthday. Dora let out an involuntary sharp gasp upon getting a good look at the girl. Normally a vibrant, vivacious girl, Luna's face was pallid. The dark circles under her eyes stood out like bruises and her hair hung limp down to her waist. Her eyes held Dora's attention, there was a desperation, a longing there that was nearly incomprehensible in a ten-year-old girl. Dora could vaguely hear Remus speaking to the girl, but she instinctively reached out for Luna.
Luna climbed into Dora's lap, wrapping her arms around her neck and hiding her face in the older girl's chest. Dora's arms curled around her at the same time as her magic did. Luna sighed in relief and started to cry. "Shh, Luna-love. It's alright," Dora murmured, soothing the girl with her magic and her words.
The room was very still except for the two girls. Then, Croaker chuckled good naturedly. "Of course, how silly of us to forget." He muttered absently.
Remus looked up sharply at his friend.
"Harry's girls." Croaker said simply, still chuckling.