(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my
situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by
copyrights.)
The snow was caked outside the windows the next morning, when James woke from his place next to his wife. He took in a deep breath, and smiled at the ceiling. The gently falling flakes caught his eye from the panes, and he watched the flurry silently dance in the wind. It had been the second snowstorm in the past two days.
Harry yawned from his crib, next to Lily's side of the king sized bed. James sat up, and mussed his hair. His little boy looked like a peach fuzz without having his glasses on. And Lily looked like a sunrise, with her red hair waving in every direction.
He remembered the vow that he had made to her on her wedding day. That he only would ask to see her shining face next to his every morning for the rest of his life.
He must have been in Heaven.
"Sirius? Could you take these papers to Crouch's office?" Frank said, levitating a file folder from the table and directing them toward Sirius's direction. Sirius caught them, and nodded.
He turned out of Kingsley's cubicle, where they had been speaking about random things that working men spoke of before the lunch break was completely over. He sighed, and made his way through the maze of cubicles and smiling faces to reach the back of the office. Past the huddle of solemn faces, sporting bowler hats, and past the only solemn face he knew. The two men acknowledged the other one, and Remus smiled weakly.
The Bowlers were to go bowlering again this afternoon.
Sirius shut his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the flags that were now being passed out and distributed between the Ministry officials and Remus. He sighed again, and continued to walk away.
Remus watched him with interest as Sirius disappeared behind a large wooden door reading CROUCH. The door shut, and Remus was drawn into the conversation of the schedule and number of houses that they needed to visit that afternoon. The crowd was already dispersing, though, and he found himself being drawn away from the meeting place and to the lifts that were on the other side of the large room.
It was another day, filled with crying relatives and flags being posted on the glass windows, staring out to the world from inside the mourning houses. The black curtains would be pulled on almost every street now, in respect for the dead.
And yet, it didn't bother him. He had grown immune. He wanted to smile at the families, and say, "It's almost over. We're winning. There's hope. Neville and Harry will save us."
He wondered how it would all happen. He wondered how Harry could take down the Dark Lord.
"Lupin!"
Remus shot his head to the left, to come face to face with Kingsley. Remus nodded subtley, and Kingsley nodded back. He had a pile of papers in his hand, and he frowned at them increduously.
"Do you have a minute, Lupin?" Kinglsey asked, and Remus nodded, looking quietly down at the pile of small flags in his hand, "Have you seen Bones around here anywhere today?"
"No," Remus said, looking to his colleague, "Edgar hasn't been in the entire morning."
"That's what I thought," Kingsley said, frowning again at the papers, "Edgar has never had a day off for a reason that I didn't know about. And I haven't heard from him."
"Maybe he's off on holiday, still," Remus offered, "He has a family, doesn't he?"
Kinglsey nodded, and rubbed his bald scalp, "I don't know. I just don't know. Has anyone else been gone? Have you heard from Albus yet?"
"Nothing," Remus said, looking secretly around to many sure no one was listening in, "He never came to Christmas. I don't know."
"Well, I'm going to bring it up with Mad-Eye," Kingsley said, shuffling away, "Two of ours gone in one week. I don't understand. And one of them the Headmaster . . ."
Remus waved a goodbye to Kingsley as they went their separate ways, and Remus continued to the lift. A good amount of stops today. And then he wouldn't have to go for another week. Well, it would be a chance to get out in the sun. Dementors didn't like the sun. And they didn't like werewolves.
He remembered when he had to leave Sirius's the night before, and Sirius had been leery to let him go by himself. He had assured his friend that the dementors wouldn't give him any trouble. It was a small unknown myth that Remus had created. One Dark Creature to another . . . he didn't know if the theory was true. He didn't want to find out for sure, but he wasn't about to go buddying up every time he stepped outside his front door.
The lift door opened, and he was taken out of his thoughts by the sight of Peter, standing in front of him, looking scared out of his wits. It was a frightening sight, the poor little man with a white face, and his shaking hands. He was terrified, and he ran to Remus and embraced him. Remus doubled over and out of the lift doors, and he dropped the flags in surprise.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, prying Peter off of him, and taking a good look at his old friend. Peter didn't look him in the eyes, but stared at his feet instead.
"Moony, I . . . I need to talk to you," he stammered, grabbing Remus's hand and dragging him into the cubicle maze, "I . . ."
Peter stopped, and looked over Remus's shoulder. There he was. Nott. Mr. Nott, watching him. Nott had gone to school with him, and now . . . and now he was here working at the Ministry. He hadn't known he was to be here. Nott was glaring at him. Glaring. Warning.
"I . . . not here," he decided quickly, and pulled Remus into an empty cubicle who's walls were lined with the pictures of caught Death Eaters.
"What's going on?" Remus asked. He leaned over to become eye to eye with his shorter friend, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"We're still in this war, right?" Peter said, "Forever alive, right? We're friends still, right?"
"Yeah, of course," Remus said, studying Peter. What was he talking about. Why was he so frantic.
"And nothing would ever change that?" Peter asked, pleading with his blinking eyes. Remus nodded, and Peter gulped.
"I . . . I've gotten into something . . ." Peter whispered, almost so quiet that he himself couldn't hear his words, "I've gotten into something that I can't get out of . . . And . . ."
"Lupin! Pettigrew!"
Peter jumped, and gave a little yelp. Remus stood up, and they both looked to the entrance of the cubicle. There stood Frank and Moody, with Kingsley behind them, all looking solemnly at the two boys.
"Oh no!" Peter squeaked, and hid behind Remus, "I'm sorry! I . . ."
"Quit your whimpering, Pettigrew," Moody snarled, and Frank lowered his head, "There's an emergency meeting. Now. Let's go. Dumbledore's already there with Minerva. They're waiting."
Moody's house looked even more dim than it had before. Something had happened. Everyone could feel it as they entered in their own ways. Some by Floo Powder, some by Portkey, and some by the front door. They all congregated inside at their regular places as they waited for Dumbledore or whoever may be addressing them.
"Moody, what's this all about," Dorcas demanded. Moody didn't answer, but only took his own seat. He would not be speaking.
Lily took James's hand, and Remus watched them slowly. Everything that day seemed to have played all in fast motion. But now, it was speeding. On the days that Remus looked back on that day, he could remember hardly anything. All he knew was that Frank had arrived, and also had taken his place. And then, Dumbledore had entered, looking ashen faced and defeated.
Something he had never looked like before.
Dumbledore had stood before them, with his head bent. Remus felt his heart fall as he had relayed the story to them.
"He knows all of us," the old Headmaster had said, "He knows our families. He knows our weak spots. And he proved that to us this past weekend."
There was a pause before he continued.
"Edgar Bones . . . no, all of the Bones's family . . . is deceased."
The entire room froze. Nothing like this had happened since the Potters and the McKinnons. And those two attacks were so long ago. How could Voldemort had killed Edgar's entire family?
"I was to visit two people on Christmas night," Dumbledore said, "One was the Potter's residence, and the second was the Bones's party. Edgar had invited me, and I told him that I would be very honored to step in for a pint of egg nogg. They were expecting me at seven o' clock. I arrived at seven thirty, trying to be fashionably late, and it was too late."
Peter's face was not one of fear. It was the one that he used to wear when they had been caught by Professor McGonagall or Professor Snorks for some prank they had pulled days earlier. It was the face of surprised defeat. Lily stared at him for a moment before turning back to her husband, and resting her head on his shoulder.
"The entire front half of the house had been blown away, and inside were all of the family, dead. Seven Dark Marks were above the house. They were all buried this morning."
"We've had attacks like this before, Albus," Elphias interrupted.
"No, we have not," Dumbledore retorted, a flame flaring up in his eyes, "For in this instance, a message was left on the body of Edgar."
"A list of the members of the Order, and a list of new recruits for this year," Moody stood from his seat for the first time, "Edgar's name was crossed off, as if it were some sort of checklist for the owner. They know every single one of us. And they know our families."
"It has occurred to me in this incident, that it is not only the welfare of yourselves that you are risking, but of your loved ones as well," Dumbledore continued, "And that is why I am giving leave of any person or persons who have a family. You may retire your duties. You will be placed into hiding, and no one will speak ill of you. Every single soul in this room has done their part in this war, and I will understand and respect and honor your choice to leave."
"There has to be some sort of hope," Peter said, somewhat histerically, "There has to be some end to it all! The war has to be over someday!"
"Oh, everything must end one way or another," Dumbledore said, "Yet sometimes it ends in the ways we wish it not to.
"I will tell you the odds, my friends, because you all deserve to know the truth," he continued, addressing the room in an honesty he had never held. He was beaten. They could all see it. They have been trying for ten years, and the war would not end. He had tried everything, and now he stood before them defeated, asking them to understand why, "Caradoc Dearborn is also taken as dead. As most of you know, he disappeared a good six months ago during the raid on the Ministry of Magic. Edgar Bones is dead. Marlene is dead. Fenwick is dead. All recruits from the past two years, who were all sent into the spying field, have been accounted as missing or dead. The enemy's number has grown well into the six hundreds for leadership roles. There are many more that we do not know of, or are unproclaimed spies and supporters. Giants from the entire continent of Europe have begun to migrate to our country. No dementor is under our government's control. Azkaban lays unguarded. It is only a matter of a few weeks before the prisoners regain their sanity and realize this. In other words, we have no hope, Mr. Pettigrew.
"There are times when a man must make a decision which may not be proud," Dumbledore said, "Humble choices are sometimes what we must follow. This war has gone on for far too long, my friends. Far too long. Those who wish to leave, leave now. Stand and exit out of this room forever. I will never degrade you for doing so. And neither will anyone else. Only those who wish to die, remain seated."
There was a quietness between the members, as they all shifted in their chairs. No one moved. Remus, who couldn't budge an inch out of his chair himself, stared in fear at his fellow members. Not a one of them would stand and leave. They were all too proud. They would die in honor rather than live in cowardness.
Slowly, he stared at James. Lily was trying to catch her husband's eye, but he wouldn't look at her. He had his jaw set, and he stared at Dumbledore, as if somehow challenging him to make him get up. Dumbledore didn't look at him, but Remus did.
Lily closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to cry. They had to remain seated. They could not leave. Or was it that she couldn't leave? She knew that James would never go into hiding, and she couldn't bear to go without him. The images of her sitting at home . . . if you could call it a home . . . with Harry, and wondering if her beloved James was still alive. They wouldn't see each other again until the end of the war, and that could be weeks to years. That could be never.
No. If James could not stand, neither could she.
Sirius knew there was no question if he would stand. He gripped the sides of his chair, glaring at the back of Elphias's head. He would not stand. He knew he would die. One way or another, he would die. And he was ready to.
Dumbledore looked saddened at these faces who would not break. They were warriors in their hearts, and he could not tame a growing storm. They would fight until there was nothing left to fight for, and even then they would continue. He had compiled the greatest of Aurors, and now he truly saw their courage.
Or their stupidity. Whichever one.
"Very well," he sighed, and then stopped as a chair scooted back. Frank and Alice were now standing.
"Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore said, somewhat surprised. Frank did not address him, but turned to the group of seated members.
"Alice and I have decided to leave," he said, "We have a son. And we have to think about him. As much as we'll regret this decision, we know it's our duty as parents. I want my son to have a father. I want my son to grow and see his first birthday. And I know that that will not happen if we stay here. We've already made arrangements with a Secret Keeper, and we'll be leaving in three days."
Frank looked to James and Lily, and seemed to stare them down. Both of them looked to the floor, "My son deserves a peaceful life. He deserves parents. He deserves to live in a house that's safe. And that's why I make my choice."
And then, the proud soldier and his wife grabbed their coats. Frank Longbottom, the best of them all, the strongest, the smartest, the swiftest Auror any of them had ever seen . . . he walked to the back door of the parlor. And with their heads held high and faces chisled out of stone, they left without another word.
The door slammed behind them, and Dumbledore's expression could be seen as a small trace of a smile. He nodded, his old eyes saddened, and then looked to Moody.
"We will have our next meeting in a week's time," is all he said, before walking out of the room and into the kitchen. He was going back to Hogwarts through the fireplace.
The members remained seated.
"I'll see you tonight," Sirius said, patting Lily on the back before heading out of the room. Most of the members had left after the end of the meeting, and now only a few remained, trying to get their things together or figuring out how they were going to get where they needed to go.
"We'll be there," Lily said quietly, still somewhat occupied with the meeting's order of business, "Have a safe trip."
Sirius nodded, and stepped out of the room. Lily sighed, and grabbed her cloak. She had made the right decision. She had to stay with James. He needed her.
Now that that was out of her conscience, she began to think of picking Harry up from her mum's house. Mrs. Evans would be worried if she didn't return soon.
She found herself walking out of the parlor, and into the front hall. She had to find James . . .
"Tell me," a rigid voice came from the kitchen, "Just tell me, Remus! What did I do wrong now? What could I have done to be perfect for you? Huh? Just come out and say it!"
"No, James . . ."
Lily stopped, and edged back to the kitchen door. She opened it a bit, and looked inside. Her eyes widened at the sight she saw. Remus backed up against the counter, and James defiantly leaning over him, threateningly grinding his hands into fists.
"Come on, Remus! What did I do now?!" he asked.
Remus swallowed, and then looked James in the eye, "You know what you did. Your pride has always been top priority for you."
"That's all I got left!"
"You have a son, James!"
There was a pause, and Lily shut the door. She leaned up against the wall, her head flat against the white paint. She couldn't breathe.
"You have a son! And a wife! You're not a kid anymore! You have a responsibility . . ."
"I stay for my son."
"You stay for yourself! You have a family!"
"THAT'S RIGHT, LUPIN!" James shouted, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen, "I HAVE A FAMILY. NOT YOU! I AM A FATHER! IT'S MY SON! IT'S MY WIFE! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS! HOW COULD YOU? HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND TELL ME WHAT I'M DOING WRONG WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE? YOU DON'T HAVE A FAMILY, REMUS!"
There was another pause, this one deadly. Lily heard the silence cut through the air as she waited for Remus to respond. But no response came. Just more silence.
Finally, a slow and careful voice sounded, "Well, I thought I did."
Footsteps, and the kitchen door banged open. Remus charged out, making a straight cut for the front door.
"Remus . . ." Lily started, but Remus didn't stop. He slammed the door behind him, and was gone.
Remus was gone.
The snow was caked outside the windows the next morning, when James woke from his place next to his wife. He took in a deep breath, and smiled at the ceiling. The gently falling flakes caught his eye from the panes, and he watched the flurry silently dance in the wind. It had been the second snowstorm in the past two days.
Harry yawned from his crib, next to Lily's side of the king sized bed. James sat up, and mussed his hair. His little boy looked like a peach fuzz without having his glasses on. And Lily looked like a sunrise, with her red hair waving in every direction.
He remembered the vow that he had made to her on her wedding day. That he only would ask to see her shining face next to his every morning for the rest of his life.
He must have been in Heaven.
"Sirius? Could you take these papers to Crouch's office?" Frank said, levitating a file folder from the table and directing them toward Sirius's direction. Sirius caught them, and nodded.
He turned out of Kingsley's cubicle, where they had been speaking about random things that working men spoke of before the lunch break was completely over. He sighed, and made his way through the maze of cubicles and smiling faces to reach the back of the office. Past the huddle of solemn faces, sporting bowler hats, and past the only solemn face he knew. The two men acknowledged the other one, and Remus smiled weakly.
The Bowlers were to go bowlering again this afternoon.
Sirius shut his eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the flags that were now being passed out and distributed between the Ministry officials and Remus. He sighed again, and continued to walk away.
Remus watched him with interest as Sirius disappeared behind a large wooden door reading CROUCH. The door shut, and Remus was drawn into the conversation of the schedule and number of houses that they needed to visit that afternoon. The crowd was already dispersing, though, and he found himself being drawn away from the meeting place and to the lifts that were on the other side of the large room.
It was another day, filled with crying relatives and flags being posted on the glass windows, staring out to the world from inside the mourning houses. The black curtains would be pulled on almost every street now, in respect for the dead.
And yet, it didn't bother him. He had grown immune. He wanted to smile at the families, and say, "It's almost over. We're winning. There's hope. Neville and Harry will save us."
He wondered how it would all happen. He wondered how Harry could take down the Dark Lord.
"Lupin!"
Remus shot his head to the left, to come face to face with Kingsley. Remus nodded subtley, and Kingsley nodded back. He had a pile of papers in his hand, and he frowned at them increduously.
"Do you have a minute, Lupin?" Kinglsey asked, and Remus nodded, looking quietly down at the pile of small flags in his hand, "Have you seen Bones around here anywhere today?"
"No," Remus said, looking to his colleague, "Edgar hasn't been in the entire morning."
"That's what I thought," Kingsley said, frowning again at the papers, "Edgar has never had a day off for a reason that I didn't know about. And I haven't heard from him."
"Maybe he's off on holiday, still," Remus offered, "He has a family, doesn't he?"
Kinglsey nodded, and rubbed his bald scalp, "I don't know. I just don't know. Has anyone else been gone? Have you heard from Albus yet?"
"Nothing," Remus said, looking secretly around to many sure no one was listening in, "He never came to Christmas. I don't know."
"Well, I'm going to bring it up with Mad-Eye," Kingsley said, shuffling away, "Two of ours gone in one week. I don't understand. And one of them the Headmaster . . ."
Remus waved a goodbye to Kingsley as they went their separate ways, and Remus continued to the lift. A good amount of stops today. And then he wouldn't have to go for another week. Well, it would be a chance to get out in the sun. Dementors didn't like the sun. And they didn't like werewolves.
He remembered when he had to leave Sirius's the night before, and Sirius had been leery to let him go by himself. He had assured his friend that the dementors wouldn't give him any trouble. It was a small unknown myth that Remus had created. One Dark Creature to another . . . he didn't know if the theory was true. He didn't want to find out for sure, but he wasn't about to go buddying up every time he stepped outside his front door.
The lift door opened, and he was taken out of his thoughts by the sight of Peter, standing in front of him, looking scared out of his wits. It was a frightening sight, the poor little man with a white face, and his shaking hands. He was terrified, and he ran to Remus and embraced him. Remus doubled over and out of the lift doors, and he dropped the flags in surprise.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, prying Peter off of him, and taking a good look at his old friend. Peter didn't look him in the eyes, but stared at his feet instead.
"Moony, I . . . I need to talk to you," he stammered, grabbing Remus's hand and dragging him into the cubicle maze, "I . . ."
Peter stopped, and looked over Remus's shoulder. There he was. Nott. Mr. Nott, watching him. Nott had gone to school with him, and now . . . and now he was here working at the Ministry. He hadn't known he was to be here. Nott was glaring at him. Glaring. Warning.
"I . . . not here," he decided quickly, and pulled Remus into an empty cubicle who's walls were lined with the pictures of caught Death Eaters.
"What's going on?" Remus asked. He leaned over to become eye to eye with his shorter friend, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"We're still in this war, right?" Peter said, "Forever alive, right? We're friends still, right?"
"Yeah, of course," Remus said, studying Peter. What was he talking about. Why was he so frantic.
"And nothing would ever change that?" Peter asked, pleading with his blinking eyes. Remus nodded, and Peter gulped.
"I . . . I've gotten into something . . ." Peter whispered, almost so quiet that he himself couldn't hear his words, "I've gotten into something that I can't get out of . . . And . . ."
"Lupin! Pettigrew!"
Peter jumped, and gave a little yelp. Remus stood up, and they both looked to the entrance of the cubicle. There stood Frank and Moody, with Kingsley behind them, all looking solemnly at the two boys.
"Oh no!" Peter squeaked, and hid behind Remus, "I'm sorry! I . . ."
"Quit your whimpering, Pettigrew," Moody snarled, and Frank lowered his head, "There's an emergency meeting. Now. Let's go. Dumbledore's already there with Minerva. They're waiting."
Moody's house looked even more dim than it had before. Something had happened. Everyone could feel it as they entered in their own ways. Some by Floo Powder, some by Portkey, and some by the front door. They all congregated inside at their regular places as they waited for Dumbledore or whoever may be addressing them.
"Moody, what's this all about," Dorcas demanded. Moody didn't answer, but only took his own seat. He would not be speaking.
Lily took James's hand, and Remus watched them slowly. Everything that day seemed to have played all in fast motion. But now, it was speeding. On the days that Remus looked back on that day, he could remember hardly anything. All he knew was that Frank had arrived, and also had taken his place. And then, Dumbledore had entered, looking ashen faced and defeated.
Something he had never looked like before.
Dumbledore had stood before them, with his head bent. Remus felt his heart fall as he had relayed the story to them.
"He knows all of us," the old Headmaster had said, "He knows our families. He knows our weak spots. And he proved that to us this past weekend."
There was a pause before he continued.
"Edgar Bones . . . no, all of the Bones's family . . . is deceased."
The entire room froze. Nothing like this had happened since the Potters and the McKinnons. And those two attacks were so long ago. How could Voldemort had killed Edgar's entire family?
"I was to visit two people on Christmas night," Dumbledore said, "One was the Potter's residence, and the second was the Bones's party. Edgar had invited me, and I told him that I would be very honored to step in for a pint of egg nogg. They were expecting me at seven o' clock. I arrived at seven thirty, trying to be fashionably late, and it was too late."
Peter's face was not one of fear. It was the one that he used to wear when they had been caught by Professor McGonagall or Professor Snorks for some prank they had pulled days earlier. It was the face of surprised defeat. Lily stared at him for a moment before turning back to her husband, and resting her head on his shoulder.
"The entire front half of the house had been blown away, and inside were all of the family, dead. Seven Dark Marks were above the house. They were all buried this morning."
"We've had attacks like this before, Albus," Elphias interrupted.
"No, we have not," Dumbledore retorted, a flame flaring up in his eyes, "For in this instance, a message was left on the body of Edgar."
"A list of the members of the Order, and a list of new recruits for this year," Moody stood from his seat for the first time, "Edgar's name was crossed off, as if it were some sort of checklist for the owner. They know every single one of us. And they know our families."
"It has occurred to me in this incident, that it is not only the welfare of yourselves that you are risking, but of your loved ones as well," Dumbledore continued, "And that is why I am giving leave of any person or persons who have a family. You may retire your duties. You will be placed into hiding, and no one will speak ill of you. Every single soul in this room has done their part in this war, and I will understand and respect and honor your choice to leave."
"There has to be some sort of hope," Peter said, somewhat histerically, "There has to be some end to it all! The war has to be over someday!"
"Oh, everything must end one way or another," Dumbledore said, "Yet sometimes it ends in the ways we wish it not to.
"I will tell you the odds, my friends, because you all deserve to know the truth," he continued, addressing the room in an honesty he had never held. He was beaten. They could all see it. They have been trying for ten years, and the war would not end. He had tried everything, and now he stood before them defeated, asking them to understand why, "Caradoc Dearborn is also taken as dead. As most of you know, he disappeared a good six months ago during the raid on the Ministry of Magic. Edgar Bones is dead. Marlene is dead. Fenwick is dead. All recruits from the past two years, who were all sent into the spying field, have been accounted as missing or dead. The enemy's number has grown well into the six hundreds for leadership roles. There are many more that we do not know of, or are unproclaimed spies and supporters. Giants from the entire continent of Europe have begun to migrate to our country. No dementor is under our government's control. Azkaban lays unguarded. It is only a matter of a few weeks before the prisoners regain their sanity and realize this. In other words, we have no hope, Mr. Pettigrew.
"There are times when a man must make a decision which may not be proud," Dumbledore said, "Humble choices are sometimes what we must follow. This war has gone on for far too long, my friends. Far too long. Those who wish to leave, leave now. Stand and exit out of this room forever. I will never degrade you for doing so. And neither will anyone else. Only those who wish to die, remain seated."
There was a quietness between the members, as they all shifted in their chairs. No one moved. Remus, who couldn't budge an inch out of his chair himself, stared in fear at his fellow members. Not a one of them would stand and leave. They were all too proud. They would die in honor rather than live in cowardness.
Slowly, he stared at James. Lily was trying to catch her husband's eye, but he wouldn't look at her. He had his jaw set, and he stared at Dumbledore, as if somehow challenging him to make him get up. Dumbledore didn't look at him, but Remus did.
Lily closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to cry. They had to remain seated. They could not leave. Or was it that she couldn't leave? She knew that James would never go into hiding, and she couldn't bear to go without him. The images of her sitting at home . . . if you could call it a home . . . with Harry, and wondering if her beloved James was still alive. They wouldn't see each other again until the end of the war, and that could be weeks to years. That could be never.
No. If James could not stand, neither could she.
Sirius knew there was no question if he would stand. He gripped the sides of his chair, glaring at the back of Elphias's head. He would not stand. He knew he would die. One way or another, he would die. And he was ready to.
Dumbledore looked saddened at these faces who would not break. They were warriors in their hearts, and he could not tame a growing storm. They would fight until there was nothing left to fight for, and even then they would continue. He had compiled the greatest of Aurors, and now he truly saw their courage.
Or their stupidity. Whichever one.
"Very well," he sighed, and then stopped as a chair scooted back. Frank and Alice were now standing.
"Mr. Longbottom?" Dumbledore said, somewhat surprised. Frank did not address him, but turned to the group of seated members.
"Alice and I have decided to leave," he said, "We have a son. And we have to think about him. As much as we'll regret this decision, we know it's our duty as parents. I want my son to have a father. I want my son to grow and see his first birthday. And I know that that will not happen if we stay here. We've already made arrangements with a Secret Keeper, and we'll be leaving in three days."
Frank looked to James and Lily, and seemed to stare them down. Both of them looked to the floor, "My son deserves a peaceful life. He deserves parents. He deserves to live in a house that's safe. And that's why I make my choice."
And then, the proud soldier and his wife grabbed their coats. Frank Longbottom, the best of them all, the strongest, the smartest, the swiftest Auror any of them had ever seen . . . he walked to the back door of the parlor. And with their heads held high and faces chisled out of stone, they left without another word.
The door slammed behind them, and Dumbledore's expression could be seen as a small trace of a smile. He nodded, his old eyes saddened, and then looked to Moody.
"We will have our next meeting in a week's time," is all he said, before walking out of the room and into the kitchen. He was going back to Hogwarts through the fireplace.
The members remained seated.
"I'll see you tonight," Sirius said, patting Lily on the back before heading out of the room. Most of the members had left after the end of the meeting, and now only a few remained, trying to get their things together or figuring out how they were going to get where they needed to go.
"We'll be there," Lily said quietly, still somewhat occupied with the meeting's order of business, "Have a safe trip."
Sirius nodded, and stepped out of the room. Lily sighed, and grabbed her cloak. She had made the right decision. She had to stay with James. He needed her.
Now that that was out of her conscience, she began to think of picking Harry up from her mum's house. Mrs. Evans would be worried if she didn't return soon.
She found herself walking out of the parlor, and into the front hall. She had to find James . . .
"Tell me," a rigid voice came from the kitchen, "Just tell me, Remus! What did I do wrong now? What could I have done to be perfect for you? Huh? Just come out and say it!"
"No, James . . ."
Lily stopped, and edged back to the kitchen door. She opened it a bit, and looked inside. Her eyes widened at the sight she saw. Remus backed up against the counter, and James defiantly leaning over him, threateningly grinding his hands into fists.
"Come on, Remus! What did I do now?!" he asked.
Remus swallowed, and then looked James in the eye, "You know what you did. Your pride has always been top priority for you."
"That's all I got left!"
"You have a son, James!"
There was a pause, and Lily shut the door. She leaned up against the wall, her head flat against the white paint. She couldn't breathe.
"You have a son! And a wife! You're not a kid anymore! You have a responsibility . . ."
"I stay for my son."
"You stay for yourself! You have a family!"
"THAT'S RIGHT, LUPIN!" James shouted, his voice echoing throughout the kitchen, "I HAVE A FAMILY. NOT YOU! I AM A FATHER! IT'S MY SON! IT'S MY WIFE! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS! HOW COULD YOU? HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND TELL ME WHAT I'M DOING WRONG WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE? YOU DON'T HAVE A FAMILY, REMUS!"
There was another pause, this one deadly. Lily heard the silence cut through the air as she waited for Remus to respond. But no response came. Just more silence.
Finally, a slow and careful voice sounded, "Well, I thought I did."
Footsteps, and the kitchen door banged open. Remus charged out, making a straight cut for the front door.
"Remus . . ." Lily started, but Remus didn't stop. He slammed the door behind him, and was gone.
Remus was gone.