The Road of Life: Tragic
lone astronomer
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling, no infringement intended, blah, blah, etc., etc.
Summary: Er… something rather predictable happens (predictable if you know my stories like I do, anyway) and then something even more predictable happens!
…Getting dark, too dark to see
Feels like I'm knocking on Heaven's door
Knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door…
Mama, put my gun to the ground
I can't shoot them anymore
That coal black cloud is coming down
Feels like I'm knocking on Heaven's door
Knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door,
Hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah
Knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door…
-Guns 'n' Roses, Knockin' on Heaven's Door
It was three o'clock in the morning when the pager went off, and neither of the McTavishs were very happy about it. Clara groaned out loud. "Tom… turn it off. I have to work in the morning!"
Tom laughed as he kissed her goodbye. "It is morning, sugar." Checking the page again, he announced, "I've got to go… School building on the corner of Third and White is burning."
Clara sat bolt upright. "It's what!?"
Thomas shrugged. "It's opening up to the seventh layer of Hell and allowing itself to be vaporized. And I have to go save it."
Clara buried her head in her pillow again. "My hero."
He chuckled.
"Be careful, okay?"
His disarming grin put her at ease. "I'm always careful. I love you, you know."
"I noticed."
"Good. See you 'round dinner time, then," Tom said, and then he was off.
* * *
James Potter swept into the office that morning at quarter past seven, whistling something that sounded suspiciously like the melody to a song with rather lewd lyrics. Clara thumped her head on her desk. She hadn't been able to sleep since Tom left that morning, and it showed on her face.
"Could you be less happy for a moment, Minister?" she asked, talking into the desk.
"Only for you, Madame." And he went right on whistling.
Why, oh why, did everyone vote for the guy with charisma? Couldn't we have voted for some old fart who'd sleep all day, miss meetings, and generally annoy no one?
"Black, Lupin, my office, please." It was an oddly formal request from such a man, and Sirius and Remus had to regard each other with the expressions they'd used before only when dealing with McGonagall back at Hogwarts. They also had to follow him, and they did, into his office. The door slammed shut behind them.
Sirius and Remus exchanged that glance again. "James?"
Finally, the slight hint of a smile appeared on his face. "That's Minister Potter to you, Moony."
"That's Minister of Defense Moony to you, James."
Prongs laughed and put his feet up on his desk. "It's good to be back."
Sirius grinned. "I take it we're not in trouble then, Minister Potter?" His dark eyes danced with an inner fire, and James knew he was just taunting him with the title.
"Not at all," James replied. "Actually, I was about to make a dinner proposal."
Remus' stomach growled. The other two men turned their attention to him and laughed. "I'll take that as a yes, then," James said, taking his feet down off of the desk as the owl in the cage behind the door gave him a nasty look. Ministry owls, he thought with irritation. Can't mind their own bloody business.
Remus raised his eyebrows. "We're already having company," he explained, "but a few more can't hurt. Hillside Manor at seventeen hundred?"
Sirius suppressed a smile. Remus had been stuck on military time since college, and he found it more than a little amusing. "I'll be there," the other two men chorused, grinning their still-identical grins.
It was Remus' turn to smile at them, and he felt a momentary flash of pity for Filch once again.
* * *
Eight children, aged ten to seven, ran rampant around Hillside Manor (Remus' pet name for what had once been the Nightrunner estate). Indeed, four of them had very red hair, four of them were twins, and the others had had far too much sugar. Still, the sight was heartening to the few privileged adults that were present to see it.
"They get along well," Molly Weasley commented dryly as Fred and George, her twin sons, chased the screaming Vera and Sierra through the sitting room.
"Mummy!" Sierra yelled, torn between grabbing at her golden locks and scrambling to hide behind Mioré Black's chair. Instead, she pointed at one of the twins. "Mummy, Fred turned my hair yellow!"
"That's George, dear," Mioré admonished, trying hard not to smile as she pulled out her wand to perform the counter-spell.
Molly was busy addressing her twin sons. "…I'm appalled by your behavior! Can't you get on well for once? George, give your father back his wand. Fred, I want you to apologize right now."
They did so, barely managing to keep their grins in check, and were gone from the room in a matter of seconds.
"Well," Molly said, as she watched their retreating twin behinds, "at least they can't get Percy anymore."
Harry and Ron, too, were hiding from the twin terrors. "I really, really hate spiders," Ron explained quietly as Fred and George, laughing, walked by the bush they were using for cover. He shuddered when he saw the large glass jar that they carried between them.
"Really?" Harry asked, thinking that there were many other things a person could be afraid of, like the Dementors his father had told him about, vampires, etceteras. (A/n: that is how it is spelled!!) "Why?"
Ron shrugged and, seeing that the twins were out of sight, stood. "It's a long story," he answered.
At this point, laughter could be heard again. But it was not the maniacal cackling of the Weasley twins, nor was it exactly a girlish type of giggling…
Harry and Ron came out of hiding, confronting the source of the laughter. Ginny, Archer, Vera and Sierra stood there, laughing as Sirius black tried to un-stick his hand from the doorknob. "Archer…" Sirius warned, glaring in the boy's direction. "Did you put Esipret's SuperGlue on the door again?"
Archer shook his head and grinned innocently, speaking above the laughter of his companions, now joined by Ron and Harry. "Nope."
Ron cleared his throat. "You might want to try my brothers, though…"
Ginny Weasley snickered.
The tinkling of many bells rang through the house, signaling that dinner was about to be served. Allya appeared at the door, laughing at the sight of her old friend stuck to the handle. "Honestly, Sirius, has Archer gone and pulled another joke on you?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be in revenge mode by now?"
"It wasn't me!" Archer insisted, looking cross.
"Right," Sierra muttered to herself.
Just then, Fred and George appeared from behind a stand of trees. They didn't seem at all surprised to see Sirius' predicament, but their identical grins gave them away yet again.
"Fred…" Allya warned. "George…" She reached out to grasp one of Fred's hands in hers, pulled out her wand, and said, "Revealium."
Blue ink appeared on his palm, and Allya gave him a knowing look. "Go wash up for dinner, hmm? I'll take care of Sticky."
All eight children filed in the door, and Allya turned her wand to Sirius. "You planning revenge?" she asked, eyes twinkling as she undid the glue.
"Of course," Sirius answered, maniacal glint in his dark eyes. "When am I not?"
She laughed. "Off with you! It's time for dinner, and it won't do to be late."
* * *
Indeed, it was two hours later, after the Weasleys had gone home, that the Marauders and their families sat in the main sitting room, talking. Mioré was tucking Sierra into one of the spare beds; Archer and Vera were already asleep, having dozed off halfway through dinner. Remus was setting the night wards on the house, and James had just left to go to the bathroom. Allya and Sirius (who had indeed gotten revenge on the Weasley twins by putting banana cream pies on their chairs), seeing their chance, set in on poor Harry.
"There's always an empty chair," Allya said thoughtfully, glancing at the old armchair by the fire that had most certainly seen better days. Still, she couldn't bear to rid herself of it and buy a new one, or even Transfigure it into something that fit the décor better.
Harry looked at her expectantly. "Why?"
Sirius fixed an empty stare upon his "nephew." "Because someone is always missing."
The young boy's curiosity was peaked- Sirius and Allya exchanged glances, knowing they were going to get in very big trouble with this next question. "Who?" Harry persisted.
"Lily and Morgana Potter."
Allya waited for recognition and sadness to write themselves on Harry's face, but his expression was blank. "Who?" he asked again.
Sirius and Allya exchanged another dangerous look. "James Harold Potter," Sirius yelled dangerously, eyes flashing. He'd suspected, but his high opinion of James hadn't allowed him to see just how bad things were. "James Potter, get your sorry self in here this very second."
When James appeared, his pale face alerted Sirius to the fact that he had, in fact, suspected something was up. Allya, just as incensed as Sirius was, couldn't even look her friend in the eye. "James," she said in a deadly quiet voice. "We need to talk."
Sirius, though not usually an overly profane person, lost his cool just then. It became apparent after a few breaths that he had probably been a sailor in a past life, except that he could have out-cursed any sailor ever to cross one of the seven seas. Finally, he calmed down a bit. "You know what, James? Fuck talking. Get out of my sight."
Remus, who had just reentered the room in time to hear the past few words, saw Allya's expression and decided that Sirius probably wasn't overreacting. Without even so much as an asking glance, he dragged James to the nearest closet, took away his wand, and locked him in.
Back in the sitting room, Allya and Sirius were still fuming.
"Okay," Remus said, looking graver than normal. "What did he do?"
"Memory charm," Sirius said darkly, watching Harry, who looked like he was trying to disappear into the sofa cushions.
Realization dawned on Remus' face. "Harry doesn't-"
Allya shook her head. "He doesn't know about anything, Remus."
"He doesn't-" Rage showed itself so plainly on Remus' usually calm face that Sirius thought he'd burst a major artery. He stormed out of the room again, and doors could be heard slamming on the way back to the closet.
Sirius rose to James' assistance, but Allya held him back. "Remus isn't a violent man, Sirius. James is safe- meanwhile, we owe Harry an explanation."
The two Marauders turned their attention to the Boy Who Lived. "Who were Lily and Morgana Potter?" Harry asked quietly, not wanting to incur the wrath of the man who could out-cuss anyone that side of Mars (excepting, perhaps, an abnormally perturbed Remus, but we'll get to that later).
Allya sighed. "We'll start at the beginning, I suppose. Accio photo album." A thick, leathery volume flew into her arms. "The beginning, as far as I can tell it, is only fifth year at Hogwarts. So for that part, I think I'll have to transfer you to Sirius."
She handed him the book, thinking for a moment that he would refuse. After all, the memories were a lot more painful for him. But then he cracked Remus' prize-winning photo album to the first page, and began to speak. Quietly, the words drifted through the air, tiny vibrations making their way to Harry's eardrums.
"Your father and I met Lily on the train to Hogwarts in our first year," he began. "It was really stormy that day. The first encounter they ever had, he grabbed her from behind as lightning struck." Sirius laughed bitterly. "She spent the next three months hating us, right until we caught her when she fell of her broom in flying lessons." Another low, sarcastic chuckle. "She ignored us for a week; tried to pretend we hadn't saved her life. But she never could stay mad at your father for long."
Harry took the leather-bound book that Sirius offered. "That was her?" he asked, pointing to the girl with eyes so like his own.
Sirius nodded. "That was your mother." He sat back a bit. "I think I need Allya's help to explain the rest."
She sighed. "I began having the dreams around my third year, when I still lived in Canada. I didn't understand them then; I knew no one in them and I'd only heard Voldemort's name mentioned on rare occasions when my parents invited other Aurors over to dinner.
"When I met James and Lily, I understood. Theirs would be the children that defeated him, that brought an end to the reign of terror. Divination had always been one of my best subjects.
"Back then, I didn't want to believe the dreams. I ignored most of them, and couldn't decipher the images I got from the orb well enough to understand. Still, I should have guessed that something was up.
"We went into hiding when we realized how much danger we were really in from Voldemort. We'd put some of his best operatives in Azkaban, and there is no doubt that he was angry with us. Here, in fact. Only one person knew where we were hidden, and only that person could betray us.
"That happened two months after your sister was born. Voldemort tortured and killed our Secret-keeper, but before she died she gave away our location. Only you, your father, your mother, and your sister, Morgana Faye Potter, were home when the Dark Lord came knocking on the door." Allya sighed, closing her eyes against the difficult memories. "We found James knelt over your mother's body when we got back. Your sister wasn't far away, but you were sitting up on the floor, screaming bloody murder- which it was. James was outside when Voldemort was hit with his own curse- a curse which rebounded off of you and ultimately caused you that scar."
It became clear that she'd quite finished, and Harry spent some time thinking. "Is Voldemort- is he dead, then?"
Allya shook her head. "He's as good as dead, Harry. But given the right help, he could rise again."
James was not being spoken to in the same civil tone. "What did you think you were doing with him, James?" Remus asked, displaying the barely controlled rage characteristic of a betrayed werewolf. "What did you think you were doing, not telling him about Lily? Not telling him about Voldemort I can understand; it's a lot for a young boy to think about and eventually prepare for. But James, you never taught him about love. How could you?"
James couldn't look his friend in the eye. "Remus, I-"
"Shut up and listen," Remus commanded, Summoning a chair for James to sit in while he raged. James sat, thinking it best to remain still and wait for the tirade to come to an end. "I've known you for years. I know the past has been hard on you." He lowered his gaze to meet James'. "Having no past is harder on Harry." Remus resumed pacing. "If you can't talk about it, fine. Even I have resorted to calling her death 'it,' James. Afraid to say what happened out loud. But Harry doesn't know anything."
"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," James said morosely, watching the floor. He thought of the little dust bunnies scurrying around, their movements caused by Remus', and suddenly wished he could be one of them.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," Remus snapped.
James drew in a sharp breath. Remus, even an enraged Remus, was never that snappy or blunt. He wasn't the only one who noticed, and Moony continued his lecture with a bit more caution.
He thought for a moment. "James, did anyone ever tell you that when you love someone, you have to let them go?"
* * *
It was only sixth year, but it felt like the end of forever. The two best friends the world could have ever hoped to see were fighting, at each other's throats with the nastiest words they could find. It was natural that old wounds would be torn open, but none hurt so much as the jab James threw Sirius then.
It started innocently enough, of course. "If you're so convinced we're meant to be, Sirius, then why are you going out with her?"
Sirius shrugged. "I wanted to make you jealous, for a while," he confessed. "See if I couldn't get you back together."
James' jaw dropped and it took him a moment to regain his bearings. I can't believe I didn't see it before… "You've been manipulating me," he said finally. "Fuck, Sirius, did you ever stop to think about her feelings? You never did love her, did you?"
Sirius spitted him with a dark glare. "Have you ever heard the saying that when you love someone, you have to let them go?"
James nodded.
Sirius said, "Well, you can forget it."
* * *
"James?" Remus asked. "Did you hear me?"
"I heard you," James said, putting the memories aside to be analyzed later.
"And?" Remus asked.
James sighed. "Yeah, Remus, I've heard it before."
"Well," Remus said, giving James the piercing gaze that he had given so many, "you can forget it."
* * *
The phone rang late that evening, as Clara was just finishing making supper. Tom should be home any minute, she predicted, and so decided to let the machine pick up. She'd just put the plates on the table when she froze in place, listening to the voice on the answering machine.
Tom.
"Clar, I'll be later than expected coming home today; the fire on Third and White started up again- I won't be home till late, so don't wait up for me, all right?" There was a click before Clara could get to the phone.
She picked up his plate and put it back in the cupboard. I hate surprises, she decided with certainty, then sat down to eat alone.
END OF PART THREE
Look ma, no cliffhanger! Bwahahahaha. So, thanks in advance for those who review. Yes, I am mean enough to have James wipe Harry's memory. Next up: Harry talks to Morgana (the portrait, remember?), something bad happens, something else bad happens, you know, the usual.