(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, and my situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by copyrights.)
Upon returning to Sirius's flat, they realized that they would not be able to rely on him for food.
"Liar," Remus had said as he almost burned his kitchen to ashes.
"Grab that fire extinguisher!" Sirius shouted, snatching a blanket from the closet and running to the flames that were engulfing the oven.
"The what?" James was holding his ears as a very high beeping noise sounded from the ceiling. He looked up to see a round cylinder with a red light blinking on and off.
"That red thing over there on the wall!" he threw the blanket on the oven, and batted it down, "Bring it here!"
James and Remus ran to the small extinguisher in the corner, and Remus grabbed it, throwing it to Sirius.
"Here!"
"Oh, can someone turn that beeping off?" Peter asked, falling onto the ground, holding his ears.
Sirius took the nozzle, pulled the trigger, and a white spray engulfed both the blanket and the oven. The four boys stood, gasping for air, as the cylinder kept blaring. Remus looked to James, and then to Sirius.
"So," he said, "Now that we've almost burned the entire building down, what are we going to eat."
James took out his wand to clean the mess up, but Remus shook his head, "We're still in school, remember?"
James sighed, and then stared at the burnt kitchen as Sirius held his arm.
"You all right, Padfoot?" he said, walking over to him.
"I'm fine," he said, "Just a little burn. Could have been worse."
A knock sounded from the door, and Sirius ran to the entrance. He opened the door to reveal a woman, holding a book in one hand and her keys in the other. She took one look at Sirius's charred sleeve, and then let herself in.
"I knew it," she said, "You would burn the place down in a matter of months. Your parents letting you go out on your own without knowing how to cook. Without knowing how to use a stove."
"Good evening to you, too, Mrs. Lindher," he said, and shut the door behind her.
Mrs. Lindher looked very good for her age. She was skinnier, with brown bangs and shoulder length hair. She was sporting jeans and a T-shirt as she walked in, and stared at the other three boys in their newly bought Muggle clothes.
"And these are your friends?" Mrs. Lindher asked Sirius, who was heading back for the kitchen, empty fire extinguisher in hand. The smoke alarm was still beeping.
"Yeah," Sirius hoisted himself up on the counter, and reached for the alarm. The noise stopped. He then jumped back down to the floor, and waved a hand at James, "This is James Potter, my best friend. And Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Friends from school."
"Ah, you three go to Smeltings as well?" Mrs. Lindher asked.
The three of them blinked, and then turned to Sirius for an explanation.
"Yes," Remus said quickly, "Smeltings."
"This is Mrs. Lindher," Sirius explained, "She lives down the hall. She was on holiday last time you three were here."
"I heard a noise, and then I saw smoke billowing out from under your door," Mrs. Lindher continued, "I was just wondering if you hadn't killed yourself yet."
"Well, thanks for checking up on us," Sirius said, "We're fine. Say hello to Joey for me."
"I will," Mrs. Lindher walked back to the door, and then waved at the other boys, "Nice to meet you all."
"Nice to meet you, too," Remus said politely, and the door shut behind her.
"Sirius Black, having Muggles take care of him," James laughed, "Does she cook your food, too?"
"No," Sirius huffed, grabbing the burnt blanket and throwing it in the trash, "I rely on your mum to do that for me."
The Leaky Cauldron was crowded, even on a Sunday night. Many London-based students of Hogwarts could be seen taking their first night out on the town. Diagon Alley was showered in a beautiful dazzle of fairy lights, and invisible bells seemed to jingle at every corner. Snow constantly fell in a beautiful flurry that caked the rooftops like icing. After checking out a bit of his money from his account, Sirius led his three friends through the main street.
"Happy Christmas!" a rosy-cheeked witch shouted from her shop entrance. Remus smiled, and said, "Happy Christmas to you, too."
There was a clutter of younger boys and girls, carrying songbooks with them, making their way up and down the street, singing carols. Mothers and fathers carried large boxes of gifts for last minute shopping. It was beautiful.
Upon arriving back in the Leaky Cauldron, the four of them found a circular wooden table in the corner, cut off from the rest of the crowd's din. A waitress came to take their order as they shook the snow off of their cloaks.
"You know," Remus said, looking to Sirius as the waitress took their menus, "I think that you would be better off not ever touching an oven again. On second thought, why don't you just move into a Wizard home, and be done with the whole thing?"
"No," Sirius said, leaning on the back two legs of his chair, "I enjoy my keys, and my fire extinguisher, and my smoke detector very much, thanks."
James laughed, and then shifted in his chair, "One more semester, mates. Just one more, and then we're done with Hogwarts."
"It is sort of a shame," Sirius said, "Never thought I'd say it, but I'm going to miss school."
"Well, you've got three more years of it," Remus said, as the waitress returned with butterbeer for all, "If you're still going to be an Auror."
"Actually, I was thinking about doing more than being an Auror," Sirius said darkly, and opened his bottle. He took a swig, and James glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"What?" Peter asked.
"I want to join the Order," he said, and then took another swig. James shifted in his chair, and then coughed.
"Why would you want to do that?" Peter asked, "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who outnumbers them. They're goners."
"Shut up, Peter," James snapped, and then popped his own lid off of his bottle.
"What? What did I say now?" he asked, turning to face him.
James looked at him, as if he hadn't been expecting a reply.
"What you always say," Sirius said, "Something stupid."
"I get sick and tired of you three trying to shove me around all the time," Peter said, turning on Sirius, "I asked a question. I - I . . ."
"Well, you know bloody well that James's father's in the Order," Sirius interrupted him, slamming down on his chair's front two legs, "It was a stupid thing to say."
Peter turned red, and then lowered his eyes to the table, "Sorry, James."
James didn't answer, and took another drink of his butterbeer. He then looked to Remus, and said, "You up for a game of wizard's chess tonight?"
Remus quietly nodded, and then looked towards Sirius. But Sirius was purposely avoiding his stare.
"Wish that we could go through a whole meal without having an argument," he said, even quieter than before, and then started peeling the label off of his bottle.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked, now looking directly at him.
"I mean, that for the past few months, any time that we try to talk to each other in a civilized manner, it always turns back to this," he waved his hands at the table, "James holding his head, Peter stuttering, and you with that dark look on your face. Every time!"
"So, Sirius," James said, ignoring Remus's comment, "Could you tell me something about these Muggle appliances?"
"Sure, Prongs," he said, leaning back in his chair. Remus scowled, and took another drink.
"What exactly is the reason for a mike-wro-wave?" James continued.
"I'm not really sure," he said in a fake tone of voice, "But I think that it has something to do with the weather. I don't have one yet. Not looking into getting one."
"You two are just like you were the day I met you!" Remus glared at them.
James and Sirius blinked, and then looked back at him in awe.
"Well, yeah," Sirius laughed, "I'll be taking that one as a compliment. And what's wrong with you lately? You're more . . . how do I put it . . . willing to jump down our backs?"
"Hey, look!" Peter said, pointing to a table a few tables away from them, "Isn't that that one man that was at Hogwarts with Dumbledore the other day?"
James looked quickly over in the direction that Peter was pointing, and then gasped.
"That's him!" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat, "That's the guy that was at Wendy's funeral!"
"Who is it?" Sirius asked no one in particular.
The man's back was turned to him, but they could make out a hunched posture, and greasy dark hair hiding his face from view. James felt a shudder go through his body as he heard the low, raspy voice through the din of the tavern. They listened closer to the conversation that he was having with a stranger that none of them recognized. The person was under a cloak, and his face was concealed.
"Has he picked the five new recruits yet?" the hunched man said.
The stranger nodded.
"And they would be?"
"You want to know now, Alastor? I would have thought you would be a little more cautious," the voice came. It was a woman's voice. A sharp toned, aged, and very familiar woman's voice.
"You're right," "Alastor" said, nodding, "It isn't safe here. Who knows who could be watching."
"Everyone already knows all of us that are in the Order," the woman said.
Sirius nudged James and Remus, and they looked to him.
"It's Professor McGonagall," he hissed, "I'd recognize that voice anywhere."
"And that isn't my fault, Minerva," Alastor said, "I told them when Albus called us all down to the school in the first place, that we should take constant vigilance, that we should be aware of the members' families, that we all should go into hiding and work secretly from a headquarters . . . "
"Half of the Order has children," Professor McGonagall argued, "What would you do if you could not see anyone of any importance to you? What about the teachers at Hogwarts that have joined?"
"I have no one of importance," Alastor retorted, "Therefore I make it of importance to me to make sure that people who do have some one are kept safe."
"Albus wanted me to give you this list," Professor McGonagall said, "The five recruits will be arriving at your house in six months, with a little luck."
Alastor took the list, and read the names. He didn't say any of them out loud, but nodded his head to signify that he was proud of the choices that Dumbledore had made.
"Ah, yes," Alastor said, "The first one is a fine choice, Minerva. A fine choice. Not so sure about the second one. Are we sure he has a hold of his . . . erm . . ."
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said, "He is perfectly sane, if that's what you're asking. I've known him for seven years, and I would trust him with my life."
"Ah, Minerva," Alastor said, "You are very hypocritical. Wasn't it only a few days ago that you were telling me about the little incident? Wasn't it him that it involved?"
Professor McGonagall's stature drooped, but she kept loyal to the second recruit, "He will be a fine choice."
"The third one . . . I don't know this one . . ."
"He's a very loyal friend," Professor McGonagall said, "Or at least, Albus sees something in him. Not sure exactly what . . ."
"And the fourth one . . . I recognize the last name . . . Ah, yes, the little brat," he smiled, "Well, what a choice that will be. He's got spirit. I had the pleasure of seeing him recently. And finally, we come to the fifth. Well, what a surprise."
"I don't see any surprise there," she said sternly.
"He wouldn't have been my first choice, that is for sure," Alastor continued, "A little . . . er . . . iffy around the edges when it comes to loyalty, if you know what I mean. Yes, I heard what he did to that other boy. Albus told me all about it."
"Well, you seem to be well informed on all of those recruits," Professor McGonagall snorted.
"We have been watching a handful of them for a while," Alastor said, giving her the paper back, and added, "Burn it. Then take the ashes and put an invisibility spell on them. Then throw them off of the closest bridge you can find. Choose one, there are a few here in London. No one will be able to find it, then."
He stood, his shoulders still crouched, and grabbed his cloak from the back of his chair, "And ask Albus if he's sure about that last one."
"He is sure," Professor McGonagall said defiantly, and then put the paper into the candlelight that was on their table, "I don't understand why you would think any differently."
"I know that crowd that he grew with," Alastor said, "I've killed some of them myself. If we haven't picked up a person that Klien got to first, it would be him. I would bet my money on it."
Professor McGonagall scoffed, and then Alastor took his leave. The four boys hid their faces as he quickly scuttled past them, striding in large steps, his appearance being one of a soldier.
Professor McGonagall quickly looked around, scooped up the ashes, and laid them on her tray. She then set her money on the table next to their finished food, and made her way out, her body still engulfed in the emerald green cloak. They all hid their faces again, and then recovered as she walked past them.
"Well, that was interesting," Remus said quietly, as she disappeared from the tavern.
"Five more recruits," Sirius said, and then sighed, "So . . . have any of you ever been to a 'cinema?' They're excellent. Went to one of them before school started."
James tried to listen to the conversation, but his mind was racing. He hadn't been able to concentrate on anything since he had seen his father in the Entrance Hall. It just kept playing back in his mind, over and over again. Things tended to do that when he wanted to forget them.
It wouldn't be long now, he told himself. He looked into the corner opposite of theirs, and squinted his eyes.
Maybe if he looked long enough, one of Wendy's Klipooraks would appear.
Upon returning to Sirius's flat, they realized that they would not be able to rely on him for food.
"Liar," Remus had said as he almost burned his kitchen to ashes.
"Grab that fire extinguisher!" Sirius shouted, snatching a blanket from the closet and running to the flames that were engulfing the oven.
"The what?" James was holding his ears as a very high beeping noise sounded from the ceiling. He looked up to see a round cylinder with a red light blinking on and off.
"That red thing over there on the wall!" he threw the blanket on the oven, and batted it down, "Bring it here!"
James and Remus ran to the small extinguisher in the corner, and Remus grabbed it, throwing it to Sirius.
"Here!"
"Oh, can someone turn that beeping off?" Peter asked, falling onto the ground, holding his ears.
Sirius took the nozzle, pulled the trigger, and a white spray engulfed both the blanket and the oven. The four boys stood, gasping for air, as the cylinder kept blaring. Remus looked to James, and then to Sirius.
"So," he said, "Now that we've almost burned the entire building down, what are we going to eat."
James took out his wand to clean the mess up, but Remus shook his head, "We're still in school, remember?"
James sighed, and then stared at the burnt kitchen as Sirius held his arm.
"You all right, Padfoot?" he said, walking over to him.
"I'm fine," he said, "Just a little burn. Could have been worse."
A knock sounded from the door, and Sirius ran to the entrance. He opened the door to reveal a woman, holding a book in one hand and her keys in the other. She took one look at Sirius's charred sleeve, and then let herself in.
"I knew it," she said, "You would burn the place down in a matter of months. Your parents letting you go out on your own without knowing how to cook. Without knowing how to use a stove."
"Good evening to you, too, Mrs. Lindher," he said, and shut the door behind her.
Mrs. Lindher looked very good for her age. She was skinnier, with brown bangs and shoulder length hair. She was sporting jeans and a T-shirt as she walked in, and stared at the other three boys in their newly bought Muggle clothes.
"And these are your friends?" Mrs. Lindher asked Sirius, who was heading back for the kitchen, empty fire extinguisher in hand. The smoke alarm was still beeping.
"Yeah," Sirius hoisted himself up on the counter, and reached for the alarm. The noise stopped. He then jumped back down to the floor, and waved a hand at James, "This is James Potter, my best friend. And Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Friends from school."
"Ah, you three go to Smeltings as well?" Mrs. Lindher asked.
The three of them blinked, and then turned to Sirius for an explanation.
"Yes," Remus said quickly, "Smeltings."
"This is Mrs. Lindher," Sirius explained, "She lives down the hall. She was on holiday last time you three were here."
"I heard a noise, and then I saw smoke billowing out from under your door," Mrs. Lindher continued, "I was just wondering if you hadn't killed yourself yet."
"Well, thanks for checking up on us," Sirius said, "We're fine. Say hello to Joey for me."
"I will," Mrs. Lindher walked back to the door, and then waved at the other boys, "Nice to meet you all."
"Nice to meet you, too," Remus said politely, and the door shut behind her.
"Sirius Black, having Muggles take care of him," James laughed, "Does she cook your food, too?"
"No," Sirius huffed, grabbing the burnt blanket and throwing it in the trash, "I rely on your mum to do that for me."
The Leaky Cauldron was crowded, even on a Sunday night. Many London-based students of Hogwarts could be seen taking their first night out on the town. Diagon Alley was showered in a beautiful dazzle of fairy lights, and invisible bells seemed to jingle at every corner. Snow constantly fell in a beautiful flurry that caked the rooftops like icing. After checking out a bit of his money from his account, Sirius led his three friends through the main street.
"Happy Christmas!" a rosy-cheeked witch shouted from her shop entrance. Remus smiled, and said, "Happy Christmas to you, too."
There was a clutter of younger boys and girls, carrying songbooks with them, making their way up and down the street, singing carols. Mothers and fathers carried large boxes of gifts for last minute shopping. It was beautiful.
Upon arriving back in the Leaky Cauldron, the four of them found a circular wooden table in the corner, cut off from the rest of the crowd's din. A waitress came to take their order as they shook the snow off of their cloaks.
"You know," Remus said, looking to Sirius as the waitress took their menus, "I think that you would be better off not ever touching an oven again. On second thought, why don't you just move into a Wizard home, and be done with the whole thing?"
"No," Sirius said, leaning on the back two legs of his chair, "I enjoy my keys, and my fire extinguisher, and my smoke detector very much, thanks."
James laughed, and then shifted in his chair, "One more semester, mates. Just one more, and then we're done with Hogwarts."
"It is sort of a shame," Sirius said, "Never thought I'd say it, but I'm going to miss school."
"Well, you've got three more years of it," Remus said, as the waitress returned with butterbeer for all, "If you're still going to be an Auror."
"Actually, I was thinking about doing more than being an Auror," Sirius said darkly, and opened his bottle. He took a swig, and James glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
"What?" Peter asked.
"I want to join the Order," he said, and then took another swig. James shifted in his chair, and then coughed.
"Why would you want to do that?" Peter asked, "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who outnumbers them. They're goners."
"Shut up, Peter," James snapped, and then popped his own lid off of his bottle.
"What? What did I say now?" he asked, turning to face him.
James looked at him, as if he hadn't been expecting a reply.
"What you always say," Sirius said, "Something stupid."
"I get sick and tired of you three trying to shove me around all the time," Peter said, turning on Sirius, "I asked a question. I - I . . ."
"Well, you know bloody well that James's father's in the Order," Sirius interrupted him, slamming down on his chair's front two legs, "It was a stupid thing to say."
Peter turned red, and then lowered his eyes to the table, "Sorry, James."
James didn't answer, and took another drink of his butterbeer. He then looked to Remus, and said, "You up for a game of wizard's chess tonight?"
Remus quietly nodded, and then looked towards Sirius. But Sirius was purposely avoiding his stare.
"Wish that we could go through a whole meal without having an argument," he said, even quieter than before, and then started peeling the label off of his bottle.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked, now looking directly at him.
"I mean, that for the past few months, any time that we try to talk to each other in a civilized manner, it always turns back to this," he waved his hands at the table, "James holding his head, Peter stuttering, and you with that dark look on your face. Every time!"
"So, Sirius," James said, ignoring Remus's comment, "Could you tell me something about these Muggle appliances?"
"Sure, Prongs," he said, leaning back in his chair. Remus scowled, and took another drink.
"What exactly is the reason for a mike-wro-wave?" James continued.
"I'm not really sure," he said in a fake tone of voice, "But I think that it has something to do with the weather. I don't have one yet. Not looking into getting one."
"You two are just like you were the day I met you!" Remus glared at them.
James and Sirius blinked, and then looked back at him in awe.
"Well, yeah," Sirius laughed, "I'll be taking that one as a compliment. And what's wrong with you lately? You're more . . . how do I put it . . . willing to jump down our backs?"
"Hey, look!" Peter said, pointing to a table a few tables away from them, "Isn't that that one man that was at Hogwarts with Dumbledore the other day?"
James looked quickly over in the direction that Peter was pointing, and then gasped.
"That's him!" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat, "That's the guy that was at Wendy's funeral!"
"Who is it?" Sirius asked no one in particular.
The man's back was turned to him, but they could make out a hunched posture, and greasy dark hair hiding his face from view. James felt a shudder go through his body as he heard the low, raspy voice through the din of the tavern. They listened closer to the conversation that he was having with a stranger that none of them recognized. The person was under a cloak, and his face was concealed.
"Has he picked the five new recruits yet?" the hunched man said.
The stranger nodded.
"And they would be?"
"You want to know now, Alastor? I would have thought you would be a little more cautious," the voice came. It was a woman's voice. A sharp toned, aged, and very familiar woman's voice.
"You're right," "Alastor" said, nodding, "It isn't safe here. Who knows who could be watching."
"Everyone already knows all of us that are in the Order," the woman said.
Sirius nudged James and Remus, and they looked to him.
"It's Professor McGonagall," he hissed, "I'd recognize that voice anywhere."
"And that isn't my fault, Minerva," Alastor said, "I told them when Albus called us all down to the school in the first place, that we should take constant vigilance, that we should be aware of the members' families, that we all should go into hiding and work secretly from a headquarters . . . "
"Half of the Order has children," Professor McGonagall argued, "What would you do if you could not see anyone of any importance to you? What about the teachers at Hogwarts that have joined?"
"I have no one of importance," Alastor retorted, "Therefore I make it of importance to me to make sure that people who do have some one are kept safe."
"Albus wanted me to give you this list," Professor McGonagall said, "The five recruits will be arriving at your house in six months, with a little luck."
Alastor took the list, and read the names. He didn't say any of them out loud, but nodded his head to signify that he was proud of the choices that Dumbledore had made.
"Ah, yes," Alastor said, "The first one is a fine choice, Minerva. A fine choice. Not so sure about the second one. Are we sure he has a hold of his . . . erm . . ."
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said, "He is perfectly sane, if that's what you're asking. I've known him for seven years, and I would trust him with my life."
"Ah, Minerva," Alastor said, "You are very hypocritical. Wasn't it only a few days ago that you were telling me about the little incident? Wasn't it him that it involved?"
Professor McGonagall's stature drooped, but she kept loyal to the second recruit, "He will be a fine choice."
"The third one . . . I don't know this one . . ."
"He's a very loyal friend," Professor McGonagall said, "Or at least, Albus sees something in him. Not sure exactly what . . ."
"And the fourth one . . . I recognize the last name . . . Ah, yes, the little brat," he smiled, "Well, what a choice that will be. He's got spirit. I had the pleasure of seeing him recently. And finally, we come to the fifth. Well, what a surprise."
"I don't see any surprise there," she said sternly.
"He wouldn't have been my first choice, that is for sure," Alastor continued, "A little . . . er . . . iffy around the edges when it comes to loyalty, if you know what I mean. Yes, I heard what he did to that other boy. Albus told me all about it."
"Well, you seem to be well informed on all of those recruits," Professor McGonagall snorted.
"We have been watching a handful of them for a while," Alastor said, giving her the paper back, and added, "Burn it. Then take the ashes and put an invisibility spell on them. Then throw them off of the closest bridge you can find. Choose one, there are a few here in London. No one will be able to find it, then."
He stood, his shoulders still crouched, and grabbed his cloak from the back of his chair, "And ask Albus if he's sure about that last one."
"He is sure," Professor McGonagall said defiantly, and then put the paper into the candlelight that was on their table, "I don't understand why you would think any differently."
"I know that crowd that he grew with," Alastor said, "I've killed some of them myself. If we haven't picked up a person that Klien got to first, it would be him. I would bet my money on it."
Professor McGonagall scoffed, and then Alastor took his leave. The four boys hid their faces as he quickly scuttled past them, striding in large steps, his appearance being one of a soldier.
Professor McGonagall quickly looked around, scooped up the ashes, and laid them on her tray. She then set her money on the table next to their finished food, and made her way out, her body still engulfed in the emerald green cloak. They all hid their faces again, and then recovered as she walked past them.
"Well, that was interesting," Remus said quietly, as she disappeared from the tavern.
"Five more recruits," Sirius said, and then sighed, "So . . . have any of you ever been to a 'cinema?' They're excellent. Went to one of them before school started."
James tried to listen to the conversation, but his mind was racing. He hadn't been able to concentrate on anything since he had seen his father in the Entrance Hall. It just kept playing back in his mind, over and over again. Things tended to do that when he wanted to forget them.
It wouldn't be long now, he told himself. He looked into the corner opposite of theirs, and squinted his eyes.
Maybe if he looked long enough, one of Wendy's Klipooraks would appear.