Disclaimer: Everything mentioned here belongs to J.K. Rowling and her fantastic imagination, Supplier Extraordinaire of fodder for all my fanfic dabblings.
Author's Notes: To Ishizu Sango Halliwell, thanks for the cookies! :-)
Windmills of Time Chapter One - The Way We WereMarch, 1979
Easter was approaching, but life was far from the theme of renewal the holiday symbolised. In fact, there wasn't to even be a holiday for Sirius Black. Being an Auror during times of war meant you had to sacrifice your personal life. Sirius had been working twenty-hour days ever since he had completed his Auror training a month ago. Under normal circumstances, the training would have taken at least half a year more, but with the dire situation the Light side currently was in, the severe shortage of Aurors (what with numerous members being victims of Death Eater attacks each week) combined with Sirius' natural aptitude for the profession, he had been awarded his license ahead of time.
It was dark as Sirius slinked along one of the dark alleyways that snaked through the labyrinth of unkempt, dilapidated buildings which populated the inner city slums of poorer London. The putrid melange of scuttling rats, dirty stagnant water, urine stench and damp rot was overpowering. Sirius tried to smother his nasal passages with a handkerchief as he hastened his pace in his ardent urge to get away from the gloomy atmosphere. He dared not Disapparate as he knew there were Death Eaters lurking within the filthy maze, and the popping sound, as silent as he would try to make it, would alert them to the presence of an intruder. No doubt if he was heard, the Aurors would be on the receiving end of another unexpected ambush. They had just lost seven of their kind in the past week, in two different raids. Among them were Gideon and Fabian Prewett, two valued members of Dumbledore's underground network – the Order of the Phoenix, who had heroically fought off five of Voldemort's most subservient minions, one of them being the formidable Antonin Dolohov.
Once out of detection range from the shadows roaming the warren of derelict housing, Sirius Apparated to the Potters' home just on the outskirts of Cambridge. Knowing that Lily was fanatical about stationing protective wards around the house, Sirius stood out at the gates and hollered at the top of his voice.
"Hey, Prongs you ole git! Let me in here, will you?"
Sirius saw the light come on in the hallway, and a moment later, James' head poked out the front door.
"Padfoot! Geez, keep that racket down will you? People do live around here, you know." But he was grinning.
He disabled the wards his wife had cast around the house (it took the good part of five minutes) and beckoned Sirius into the hallway. Lily appeared out of the kitchen and gave him a warm welcome.
"Hello Sirius. Are you off duty?" Sirius nodded. "Good. You are just in time for dinner."
"Lily's made shepherd's pie tonight, with roast potatoes and vegetables," James informed Sirius. "Trust me, it's as good as Hogwarts cooking."
"Ah," enthused Sirius, rubbing his hands together. "I do commend myself on my impeccable timing."
*
"You seem to have a gorgeous cosy set-up here Prongs," commented Sirius approvingly a short while later as he eyed the furniture and tasteful décor of the dining room.
Lily bustled in with the last of the dishes and sat herself down beside James.
"All my doing," she told Sirius proudly. "Should never trust a man with this sort of work. You see that eyesore over there?" She pointed to where a small statue of an abstract subject stood in the corner.
Sirius screwed up a face as he saw the hodgepodge of vivid colours splashed haphazardly over it. The colours clashed horribly.
"Him," Lily said simply, jerking her head towards James.
"It's art!" protested James. "Muggle art. Like Picasso."
Sirius let a bark of laughter. "Picasso was a genius. His were masterpieces. This," he waved his hand in the direction of the statue, "is replicated junk."
James shot him a huffy look.
"To continue what I was saying Lily," Sirius went on, paying no heed to Prongs, "I have to say I am so impressed with this place! I know I haven't been visiting recently, due to the work at the Ministry, but still. The two of you have done a wonderful job in a short space of time."
"Thanks," said Lily happily. "My parents helped out a bit, so did James'. We are also very lucky that James, you know— "
Sirius nodded. "I am sure the prize money from all those Quidditch victories help a lot." He sighed theatrically. "I really should have practised as a Beater instead of volunteering to get my arse kicked in Auror training every day."
James blushed slightly, as he has come to do so each time the teasing about his Quidditch earnings came up.
"We have a good team," he conceded, "and Derek Perry coached me well back in my Hogwarts days."
Sirius dropped his fork with a clatter and stared at James in shock.
"Prongs! You are humble! Where did your ego go?"
"Oh, it's still around in full force," answered Lily airily for him, her eyes dancing in amusement. "He just keeps it in check in my presence."
James muttered something inaudible under his breath as he speared up a broccoli floret and thrust it roughly into his mouth.
"Lily's not half bad either," he said gruffly after a few moments' silence as he chomped on the vegetable. "They are well pleased with her work at the Ministry so they are. Pays her a pretty penny for those charms and wards and hexes she comes up with."
Sirius wasn't surprised to hear this. Lily had always steamrolled past any other student in Charms back in her school days, no matter how hard James and Sirius had tried to topple her from that sweet spot. They had been able to top every class save Flitwick's. And now as a worker in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, she had made her mark in her expertise to cast powerful reversal spells and Obliviating charms, and her presence was often demanded throughout various departments within the Ministry.
The three friends continued their light banter over dinner. Relaxed, joking around, just like the old days back in the Gryffindor common room. They reminisced over the instances when James and Sirius had angered McGonagall to such an extent that the Professor set her glasses askew as she brandished a finger at the culprits in her fury. The memories of those much-awaited for Hogsmeade trips where they would splurge their Galleons, Sickles and Knuts in Honeydukes, Zonko's and butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.
"Would you want to stay the night?" James asked Sirius as they stood up to clear the table. "You can have the spare bedroom."
Sirius was sorely tempted by the preposition.
"Well…" he began.
James guessed his friend's hesitancy.
"I'll tell Longbottom you are here with us," he offered. "In case he needs to contact you."
"That'd be smashing," thanked Sirius.
Sirius followed James into the kitchen to inform Lily, who was charming the dishes to wash themselves while humming to a tune on WWN.
"Great!" she said, as she Magicked the last of the dishes into the cupboard and stuck her wand back within the folds of her robes. "Well, how about a game of – "
But what game she had intended to suggest James and Sirius never found out as her sentence was rudely cut short by the piercing wail of a siren reverberating from the living room.
The three raced into the room beside them, and there, on a map of Britain that was stretched across the wall of the Potters' living room, was a bright red light flashing like a beacon.
The map had been Remus' idea. It was a spin-off of their Marauder's Map, whereby it showed a rough network of the main roads and sites around Britain, with the various locations of the members of the Order scattered throughout the country. As with the Marauders Map, coloured dots representing each Order member trickled back and forth the isle as the members went about their business. Mad-Eye Moody had then charmed each dot to emit a warning tone and blinking lights should the person it represented head into any trouble.
A dot was flashing vividly now, and the persistent screeching filled the house. Sirius peered at the map and saw that the dot was labelled 'Dorcas Meadowes'.
He turned back to look at James, who had turned the colour of hospital sheets.
"James?"
Without uttering even so much as a word, his friend had Disapparated. Sirius and Lily stared at the empty space where he had stood just a second ago in shock. Turning back to the map, Sirius now saw a tiny dot labelled 'James Potter' hovering near where the beacon was still flickering.
"JAMES!" howled Sirius.
He and Lily exchanged tacit looks and both Disapparated in suite.
Sirius nearly Apparated on top of James, who was crouching behind a hedge that lined the front lawn of Dorcas Meadowes' house. A second later, a faint 'pop' told him that Lily had joined them.
Acrid smoke curling through the air asphyxiated Sirius as he forced himself to keep from choking out loud. His eyes were getting watery from the stinging caused by the pungent aroma of the polluted air.
"What happened?" he asked as James pulled him down from the view of some shadows that were skimming round the sides of the house. "Is she okay?"
"We were too late," James answered bitterly, and he pointed up at the inky sky.
A chill swept over Sirius as he saw with a sinking heart, that suspended over the burning house was a mammoth skull with a snake slithering through it like a tongue, wreathed in a mist of sickly green smoke, glittering as if made from emerald stars.
The Dark Mark.
"Meadowes," he uttered faintly.
"Dead," came James' flat reply. "I arrived just in time to catch the green bolt of lightning zip across her living room. Just in time to hear her screams…."
The cynical feeling of defeat and helplessness flooded Sirius. A figure was moving inside the house, and from the thick swirls of grey smog emerged a tall, robed wizard. He was thin and moved stealthily with a snake-like grace.
Voldemort.
Sirius forgot himself and in his hot-headedness, charged up towards the enemy. He could hear Lily screaming with terror in the background, and James' spluttered heed of warning. But he didn't care. Hadn't he done enough? Hadn't the Dark wizard done enough to terrorise the community? Hadn't he killed enough people to put his life payments permanently in the negative column? Hadn't he caused enough damage and pain and suffering already?
The Dark Lord was nothing if not surprised by the sudden attack, but recovered almost instantly. He raised his wand, eyes glinting in a cold, maniacal manner.
"Ava— "
To Sirius, it seemed as if everything sank a notch in gear. The crackling from the fire engulfing the Meadowes house dulled; the etching of the Dark Mark against the velvet sky blurred; the screams and shouts of terror grew muffled. Voldemort's actions appeared to be in slow motion.
And Sirius couldn't move his legs.
"PROTEGO!"
Sirius fell to the ground, his wind knocked out of him. Suddenly, everything returned to its regular pace. The sharp crackling of the fire before him; the clear imprint of the Dark Mark against the sky; the frenzied screams and shouts; the thick smoke enveloping him, choking him.
James had thrown him onto the ground and had cast a protection shield over the two of them. Sirius could barely get his bearings straight when he saw the shield dissolving before his very eyes.
"Lily! Disapparate! Go!" He heard James bellow.
Then, as the Dark Lord raised his yew wand once more, Sirius felt himself being whisked away.
*
"Padfoot?" came a voice from far away.
Sirius blinked. And blinked again.
He was back in the Potters' living room. The map was now silent, and the dot that had once been labelled 'Dorcas Meadowes' had long since faded away.
Sirius didn't want to revert back to reality. He didn't want to face the fact that yet another member of the Order, yet another friend, was gone. Dead. At the hands of the Dark Lord. He closed his eyes again and wished he could have some of Madam Pomfrey's potion for dreamless sleep.
"Padfoot, you okay?" came James' voice once more.
Sirius mumbled something incoherently. If anything, just to stop James from asking such a rhetorical question. Of course he wasn't okay!
"You nearly got yourself killed!" James' voice was harsher now, frightened.
Sirius ignored him.
"What happened to you?" James now demanded.
Sirius shrugged. He caught James' expression and softened slightly. He at least owed Prongs an explanation for his behaviour.
"I don't know," he said finally. "I felt so… so angry all of a sudden. Like why. Why is he doing all this? What's the point? I got so worked up emotionally, I guess I just froze."
"Sorry," he added, after a few moments' silence.
"It's okay, Padfoot," sighed James. "At least we got away."
"You were pretty impressive standing up to Voldemort," remarked Sirius. And he meant it.
James' mouth sealed in a thin, firm line.
"And it probably won't be the last," he said grimly.
~ * ~