20 August 1977
"Bloody hell, Padfoot."
Remus was standing in the living room of Sirius's newly purchased flat in Diagon Alley, gaping at the object that was leaning against the central wall, surrounded by about half a dozen unopened cardboard boxes: It was an enormous black and red motorcycle, complete with a massive engine and gleaming silver handlebars that reached higher than Remus's waist.
"Brilliant, isn't it?" Sirius beamed, reaching out and patting the bike's spotless leather seat.
Remus turned and shot Sirius an incredulous look. "You've officially lost your mind."
"Oh, relax, Moony," James called from where he and Peter were lounging on the only piece of furniture in Sirius's sitting room, a scruffy blue sofa. "His uncle Alphard left him an arseload of gold—he only spent about an eighth of it on this thing, really."
"Besides, what else I was supposed to do with it?" Sirius chimed in, the stupid grin on his face growing impossibly wider.
Remus could think of numerous other things on which Sirius might have spent his estranged late uncle's money—some more furniture, at the very least—and perhaps if Remus hadn't been so utterly dumbstruck by the gigantic vehicle sitting in the center of the room, he might have listed them. Instead, he rounded on James.
"Why would you let him buy this thing?" Remus demanded. "You're supposed to be Head Boy in two weeks!"
"What does that have to do with anything?" James asked defensively, sitting up straight. "It's not like he's going to bring it to school with him!"
"Well, actually…" Sirius began, smirking.
Remus whirled around to face Sirius, but before he could say anything, James snapped, "Not a chance in hell, Padfoot."
"Come on, Prongs," Sirius leaned back against the motorbike, resting his arm sleekly on the handlebars—and Remus was reminded inexplicably of the Muggle tabloid magazines his mother occasionally bought at the marketplace: Sirius and his motorcycle would fit right in. "Think how cool it would be, riding into Hogwarts on this thing. We'd fly up the drive, ahead of all of the carriages—everyone would be watching—"
"You'd be expelled," Peter cried, his eyes wide and full of concern.
"You know, that would be fun to watch," Remus said sardonically. "I reckon you'd even make the front page of the Prophet—'Hogwarts students expelled in their final year before they manage to step foot in the castle.'"
James and Peter burst out laughing, while Sirius rolled his eyes, stepping away from his beloved motorcycle at last and collapsing onto the sofa next to James.
"You're no fun, all of you," Sirius grumbled. He looked at James. "Maybe I'll ask your uncle Caradoc to help me smuggle it into the castle. He's always up for a good laugh."
"In case you've forgotten, James's uncle works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He's not going bend a hundred different Wizarding laws to help you make an entrance," Remus told Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Besides, Mr. Dearborn doesn't have access to Hogwarts—he couldn't help you even if he wanted to."
"Well, actually…he could," James looked at Remus, smiling somewhat sheepishly. "My uncle's retiring from the Ministry at the end of the month—he's going to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
"What?" Peter gasped, looking around at James in amazement. "Prongs, you never said! Are you serious?"
"Yep," James nodded. "Padfoot and I were eavesdropping on my parents and uncle after Sunday dinner last week, and we heard them talking about it. Uncle Caradoc said he's agreed to teach at Hogwarts for a year as a special favor to Dumbledore. Apparently, Dumbledore's having trouble finding someone to take the Defense job these days—people are starting to think the position's jinxed."
Remus didn't find that hard to believe. He thought about the six different Defense Against the Dark Arts professors he'd had at Hogwarts so far. Two had left their posts for professional reasons, one for personal reasons, and one had died of Dragon Pox.
And most recently, Professor Atkinson—who had taught Remus and his friends in their sixth year—had been found murdered in his home, with the Dark Mark cast over his roof. Remus had read about the attack in the Daily Prophet last week. It was one of several recent murders that the Prophet had snuck into newspaper near the bottom of the last page. Remus wondered how many people had skimmed over the article altogether.
"…Your uncle's teaching at Hogwarts as a special favor?" Peter was asking James curiously. "Are he and Dumbledore friends, or something?"
James shrugged noncommittally. "Uncle Caradoc's pretty high up in the Ministry. He's always had tons of connections."
Something about the breezy indifference in James's tone caused Remus to look up and eye his friend suspiciously. He didn't know what it was, exactly, but suddenly, in that instant, Remus knew that James wasn't telling the whole truth about his uncle's new job.
Remus straightened, stepping away from the wall of Sirius's sitting room and toward the sofa, where all three of his friends sat. He crossed his arms. "Prongs," Remus said slowly, calmly—he was surprised by how calm his voice sounded. "What are you hiding?"
James snapped his head around to look at Remus, his eyes widening slightly—but the very next second, he had arranged his expression into one of mild confusion. "What're you talking about?" he asked, frowning.
"You're hiding something," Remus continued in the same determinedly calm voice. "You're not telling us something—something about your uncle, or Dumbledore. What is it?"
James blinked at Remus for several moments. Then, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, he shared a sideways look with Sirius. Sirius shrugged at James, his expression inscrutable. Remus narrowed his eyes warily, looking from one boy to the other. Then, he glanced at Peter—the blond boy looked just as confused by James and Sirius's mysterious, silent exchange as Remus felt.
At last, James turned back around to face Remus. Then, swallowing heavily, he reached into the pocket of his jumper and withdrew a tiny, velvety maroon box. He flicked it open with his thumb.
Peter gasped loudly. Remus's jaw dropped. Inside the little box sat an elegant silver ring, set with a brilliant, shimmering diamond and small, rose-like clusters of rubies on either side.
For several, long moments, nobody spoke.
Then— "Is…is that an engagement ring?" Remus croaked.
"Yeah," James said, smiling slightly as he looked down at the ring. "I bought it at Jordan's Jewelers last week. Padfoot helped me pick it out."
Remus turned his dumbfounded gaze on Sirius, who merely shrugged. "Prongs doesn't know a ruby from a garnet."
"I…I don't…" Remus shook his head, looking incredulously from Sirius to James. "Why?"
James took a deep breath. Then, closing the ring box, he slipped it back into his jumper pocket and faced Remus. "Next June, after the Leaving Ceremony," he said quietly, "I'm going to ask Lily to marry me. And then…we're going to ask Dumbledore if we can join the Order of the Phoenix."
Remus blinked. "The—what?"
"The Order of the Phoenix," Sirius put in. "It's an underground organization founded by Professor Dumbledore to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters. James's uncle is part of it—that's how he and Dumbledore know each other."
Remus was so utterly disarmed by this revelation that he wasn't sure what to ask first. And perhaps some of his astonishment showed in his expression, for James hastily continued speaking.
"Last Sunday…it wasn't the first time Padfoot and I have eavesdropped on my family," James said, sounding slightly guilty. "We—we've been listening outside doors for nearly two years, now. We've heard…a lot."
Remus felt a chill steal over him as he took in James's and Sirius's sinister expressions. He looked at Peter—the youngest Marauder was practically shaking.
"Dumbledore founded the Order of the Phoenix five years ago, when the war was really just starting to take shape," James said quietly. "Back then, it was small. My uncle was one of the first to join. They wanted my dad, too, but he promised Grandad Harry he would never fight in a war. My dad reckons my grandad was never really the same after everything he saw when he helped the Muggles during the Second Muggle War."
"Now, the Order's bigger, though—they've got members from all over Britain," Sirius revealed, his eyes gleaming. "In fact…James and I think that's the real reason Caradoc is teaching at Hogwarts this year—we think he's going to help Dumbledore recruit members."
Remus's heart stuttered to a stop. "Recruit?" he spluttered. "You mean—you don't mean…students?"
"Well, they won't be advertising it," James said quickly. "I mean, it is a secret society, after all. I reckon they're just going to be looking out for talented seventh years—people of age, of course."
There was a heavy, ringing pause, as all four boys stared at one another.
Then, suddenly, Sirius sat up straight. "I'm going to join," he announced, looking at each of his friends with a fierce, determined expression. "As soon as I'm out of school, that's it—I'm in."
Remus stared at Sirius, opening his mouth to respond—but he didn't know what to say. In fact, he didn't even know where to begin.
"I'm joining, too," James said quietly. Remus snapped his gaze back to James, whose hazel eyes were glinting strangely. "And so is Lily."
Remus blinked. "Lily, too?"
James sighed heavily, nodding. "D'you remember those two-way mirrors Padfoot and I charmed in fifth year?"
"Yeah," Remus said slowly. "Why?"
"Well, I…I accidentally left mine at Lily's house a few weeks ago, when I was there meeting her mum, and…" James trailed off, shaking his head. "And Padfoot, being the arsehole that he is, called me at around two in the morning a couple days later, prattling on about the Order of the Phoenix for a good ten minutes before he realized that I wasn't responding," said James, shooting Sirius an annoyed look, which Sirius countered with a smirk. "Anyway, Lily heard it all—and the next time we saw each other, she told me that…that over her dead body would I be joining an underground resistance without her," James finished in a sheepish voice.
Sirius snickered. "Whipped."
James elbowed Sirius in the ribs, his face bright red.
Remus leaned back against the wall of Sirius's sitting room, his heart racing, his mind swirling with disjointed thoughts. The Order of the Phoenix—it seemed so…brash. Dangerous. Impulsive. James and Sirius, talented wizards though they certainly were, were barely of age. Perhaps they thought this would all be just a grand time, an extension of their exciting, moonlit adventures at Hogwarts, but Remus knew better. He had had personal brushes with prejudice in the Wizarding world. This was not just another grand adventure. This was war.
"All right, there, Wormy?"
Sirius's voice brought Remus out of his reverie. He blinked, turning to look at Peter. The shorter boy had shrunk back against the sofa cushions, his face pale.
"Peter?" James asked concernedly, sitting up and frowning at Peter.
Peter caught James's eye for a moment, but looked away. Then, to Remus's surprise— "I want to join, too," he said. "But what if—?" he broke off. "I don't think I can—I mean, I'm not—"
Sirius rolled his eyes, sitting back in his sofa and kicking his feet up. But to Remus's surprise, James's expression softened.
"Yeah, Wormy…I'm scared, too," James said softly. "And so is Sirius, even if he's too much of an arse to admit it—" Sirius made a rude hand gesture, "—but you see…that's why we're joining the Order. We can't afford to live our lives in constant fear, can we?"
Peter was now looking at James with reverence, as though he'd never quite seen anything like him before. Remus blinked, stunned—both by the gentleness of James's tone and by the words he was saying.
"I've thought about this a lot over the past few months," James said quietly, staring down at his lap. "About whether I'm too young for this—too young to fight." He paused, clenching his jaw. "But the thing about war is that it doesn't discriminate. I mean, you've read the articles in the Prophet. These bastards aren't restricting themselves to attacking competent adults. They aren't scheduling duels. Professor Atkinson was murdered in his sleep! And don't you remember in our fifth year, when they invaded that Muggle primary school? They killed thirteen Muggle children in broad daylight!"
Sirius's expression hardened. Peter looked nauseated.
Breathing heavily, James straightened his shoulders and turned to look directly at Remus. "So, yes, maybe I'm too young for this," he said in a low voice. "Maybe I'm not ready." He paused, his expression blazing. "But I don't care. We've all got a stake in this war, whether we know it yet or not—it's why I knew I couldn't argue with Lily when she told me she wanted to join the Order. The future's too uncertain for us to sit back and let others do the fighting." James lifted his chin, his jaw set. "If I'm not going to live to see tomorrow, I want it to be on my own terms."
Sirius let out a jubilant whoop and punched the air, his gray eyes gleaming. "Hear, hear!" he cried, ruffling James's untidy black hair, and even Peter's face seemed to regain some of its color as he considered his friends with admiration.
But James's sharp, hazel eyes were quite devoid of humor as they focused on Remus, blazing with that same, familiar confidence and conviction that preceded every Gryffindor Quidditch match, every midnight adventure, every full moon. Remus stared back, his heart pounding, unable to tear his eyes away.
In the two weeks that had elapsed since James had received his Head Boy badge in the mail, he had been subjected to relentless teasing. Sirius had, of course, been positively beside himself with amusement about the whole thing; he'd spent several days telling his friends that the headmaster had been under the influence of several bottles of wine when he'd gotten around to choosing the Head Boy for the upcoming year.
Remus had known, even before the letters had been delivered, that he wouldn't be granted the position; he himself had told the headmaster that he was struggling to keep up with his Prefect duties, as it was. And it was Remus who had recommended James for the honor, when Dumbledore had asked him who he thought might be a good fit. Remus had known there would be raised eyebrows and eye-rolls. After all, James was by no standard the obvious choice for the position. Certainly, he was a top student, even if his work ethic left something to be desired. And of course, no one could dispute that James was well-liked by his peers. But he also had a rap sheet a mile long, with more than one hundred and fifty detentions to his credit and the unique distinction of having had house points taken away from him by every single member of the Hogwarts staff.
But Remus understood. He understood why Professor Dumbledore had placed his trust in a boy who had wreaked havoc on the Hogwarts castle for six years. He understood why James had decided to buy an engagement ring for a girl who had once told him that she would rather date the Giant Squid than accompany him to Hogsmeade. Remus understood why, when James and Sirius joined the Order of the Phoenix in a year's time, he would be right behind them.
James Potter had made many questionable decisions in his life. He had broken school rules and violated Wizarding statutes. He had been a schoolyard bully and a rebellious teenager. But for every fight, there was an apology. For every mistake made, a blazing determination to set things right. For all of his arrogance and recklessness, there was sheer bravery, fierce loyalty, and heartfelt compassion in equal measure.
James Potter had grown up. And the four them would soon be going to war.
Remus closed his eyes for a moment. Then, he rubbed his face, leaning back against the wall of the flat again. "I need a fag if I'm going to be joining an underground resistance in June," he said tiredly.
James looked at him in surprise for a moment. Then, his face broke into a broad grin. "Only fair," he said, reaching into his jeans pocket and withdrawing his pack of cigarettes. He tossed Remus one, then held the box out to Sirius and Peter in turn. "Knew you'd come around to the idea," he told Remus.
Remus shook his head, smiling wryly as he lit his cigarette with his wand. "I think becoming friends with you six years ago pretty much sealed my fate."
Author's Note:
Ahhh, hi everyone! It's been ages! :( Basically, I've exhausted my arsenal of pre-written chapters for this story, so I'm working on building it up again. Updates might be a tad slow in the meantime.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I always love seeing James grow up.
Ari
