Dumbledore started to ask another question before Fudge interrupted. "How did you turn into a rat? You are not on the list of registered Animagi."
"I am not registered." Pettigrew said.
"Why?"
"Because I became an Animagus during my fifth year at Hogwarts."
"Why?"
This was it. James' hand tightened on Lily's shoulder. Remus' expression was outwardly calm, but one looking closely could see the tension readily evident in his face.
"Because of—"
"Minister, I would like to continue this line of questioning privately, if you please," Dumbledore interrupted quickly.
"And if I don't?" Fudge asked, with the distinct air of a contrary child.
"Then it's just too bad for you, you idiotic, pompous windbag," Sirius muttered.
"Then I must ask that you refrain from persisting to ask that question," Dumbledore said mildly.
Fudge glared down at them. "I don't believe you have the authority to forbid me to ask a question," he said hotly.
Dumbledore smiled mildly. "I may not be able to prevent you from asking the question, but I can stop my witness from answering."
"Fine," Fudge huffed. "We meet back here in an hour." He stood, and the rest of the Wizengamot made to get up to follow him.
"I must ask that only the court scribe is permitted to accompany the Minister," Dumbledore said, gazing serenely over the bench.
Disgruntled sounds were heard from the purple-robed witches and wizards, but they sat back down obediently.
At Dumbledore's nod, Harry and the others stood and began to make their way out of the box.
"Now, wait just one minute!" Fudge said angrily, plainly feeling that Dumbledore was taking liberties. "Why are they allowed to come?"
"Because," Dumbledore answered, unruffled by Fudge's objections, "they are part of the defense, and they may be required to testify—behind closed doors, of course."
Harry looked at Ron and Hermione anxiously. He'd known he might have to testify, but given that the trial was proceeding so well, he hadn't expected to do so.
Fudge was not happy, to say the least, but knowing he was on the losing side, he led the way with Dumbledore beside him. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed with Remus, James, and Lily.
Peter was ordered out of his chair by Kingsley, who led him at wandpoint. Tonks released Sirius from the chains, and they walked side by side, her wand pointed at him for show more then anything. Percy took up the rear, his arms heaped with scrolls—so many, in fact, that his vision was impaired.
With a glance at Harry and Hermione, Ron fell back in the line to his brother's side, and grabbed a few of the topmost scrolls with a gruff, "Give me some of those."
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, then moved to join Ron and Percy at the end of the line, grabbing a few more scrolls each.
Percy looked at them in astonishment (surprised, perhaps, that they would make any move to aid him after he had so callously shunned them), but they fixed their eyes ahead, avoiding eye contact.
A door hidden in the shadows of the courtroom swung open to admit them. It was dark and musty, unlike the open, airy room they'd left. The ceiling, too, was a great contrast to the courtroom's, for it was low and covered with cobwebs.
Percy laid his scrolls down on the table at the far side of the room. Harry, Hermione and Ron followed suit, placing their scrolls beside his. Percy looked as though he wanted to say something—he opened his mouth to speak; but Fudge called out, and he remained silent.
"Weasley!" Fudge snapped. "Get some lights on in here."
He looked at the trio before turning and igniting the candles scattered around the room with his wand.
James, Lily, and Remus were talking quietly to Sirius. Tonks' wand was lazily pointed at Sirius as she talked to Kingsley. Fudge was too busy dusting off a high-backed chair behind a mahogany desk to notice her inattention to the supposedly dangerous escaped convict.
Percy had finished lighting the room, which was now bright, light dancing over the walls. He was now organizing the scrolls to find the one he would need, glancing up at the trio every chance he had, looking at them in bewilderment.
Ron kept a steely gaze at the wall visible between Harry and Hermione, who were standing in front of him.
"Aren't you going to say something? Or even look at him?" Hermione asked.
"No," Ron said, his arms crossed defiantly. "I made the first move; if he wants to be a part of the family again, then he can grow a backbone and take the next step."
"Fair enough," Harry said, before Hermione could open her mouth to retaliate. Harry was surprised to hear such words from his best friend; he'd thought that Ron would hold a grudge against his older brother for the rest of his life.
Ron found the wall boring after a few moments and turned to study his friend's faces. "I'm still upset with him," he said after seeing Harry's face. "I just can't stand Mum bawling all the time, and Dad just isn't the same. Percy hurt the family, and I'll be damned if he gets back in easily."
Dumbledore cleared his throat, attracting the attention of all in the room—save Fudge, who was still settling himself behind his desk. At Dumbledore's tacit signal, Harry, Hermione, Ron, James, Lily, and Remus seated themselves in their chairs, which lined the right side of the room.
Sirius sat in a chair provided by Tonks, surprisingly (considering her unusual clumsiness) without mishap. The ordinarily cheerful, vivacious Auror looked guilty as she conjured small chains, which attached themselves to the chair arms and bound Sirius' wrists.
Sirius offered his cousin all the comfort and understanding he could in a small smile, as Fudge had turned his attention from the desk to those assembled before him—specifically, Sirius.
Kingsley had seated Peter in a chair and bound him tightly with heavy chains. The Veritaserum appeared to be wearing off, as the gazed look was rapidly fading as a look of abject terror appeared on the rat-like face.
"It seems that our witness is in need of another dose of truth serum, Minister." Dumbledore said matter-of-factly.
"Well, who wouldn't let anyone come in with us? Hmm?" Fudge asked smugly, thinking he had one-upped the head of the Wizengamot.
"I never said we needed the young man with the Veritaserum. I happen to have my own supply; it's unnecessary to involve more people then needed. Right, Cornelius?" Dumbledore pulled a small vial out of one of his hidden pockets. The clear crystal decanter sparkled in the candlelight, a transparent liquid shifted within it at the movement.
"We can't use that!" Fudge protested heatedly as Dumbledore walked towards Peter, his robes swishing quietly on the stone floor.
"The reason being?" Dumbledore asked mildly, preparing to administer the potion. Peter's mouth opened as the dropper drew near it.
"How do I know that you have brewed it properly?" Fudge demanded, attempting to prove his point before the serum could drop.
"I did not brew it," Dumbledore said simply. "I acquired an extra flask from the young man in the courtroom before we proceeded here."
The drops fell into Peter's mouth.
Immediately, Wormtail's features relaxed.
"Now, Fudge, you may resume your questioning," Dumbledore said mildly, seating himself in the chair beside Sirius.
Fudge glared at Dumbledore, obviously still resentful of the ancient wizard's interference, before turning to Peter. "Why did you become an Animagus in your fifth year of schooling?" he demanded.
"Because my friend was a werewolf and we wanted to keep him company on the full moons. We couldn't do so when we were human. "
"Who is this 'we'?" Fudge asked suspiciously, looking not at Peter as he asked, but rather at James and Sirius.
"James Potter and Sirius Black."
"And who was the werewolf?" There was something almost like scorn in the Minister's voice—why, his tone seemed to ask, would a Dark Creature merit such efforts?
"Remus Lupin."
Fudge looked triumphant. "I knew it!" he exulted.
"I should think that you would," Remus said calmly, but with a hint of steel behind his voice. "I was, after all, the only lycanthrope in attendance at Hogwarts at that time."
"Now that you have the information, what are you going to do with it?" James muttered disdainfully under his breath.
"And what forms did Black and Potter take?" Fudge asked eagerly.
"They were—"
"That is irrelevant,." James interrupted from his seat.
"As Minister of Magic, it is my right to know," Fudge declared.
"And as a citizen of England," James shot back coolly, "It is my right to withhold that information. Furthermore, neither Sirius' Animagus form, nor mine, is directly related to the case."
Fudge looked rather confused as he attempted to process what James had just said. "But," he began, rather lamely, "I am the Minister of Magic!" He seemed to feel that his position alone granted him the right to press until he had his way.
"I...don't...care," James said very slowly, as if talking to a small (and rather stupid) child.
Harry felt, watching the Minister's behavior amusedly, that they were talking to a five-year-old, and apparently, so did Ron.
"Give him a lolly, and this whole thing will be settled," Ron muttered, causing Hermione to giggle silently.
"Listen, are you satisfied that Sirius did not kill all those people?" Lily asked, rising to stand beside her husband.
"I now know he did not kill Peter, but as for the remaining thirteen victims—"
"Wormtail!" James said sharply, cutting in.
Peter turned his head towards the sound of the voice.
"Did you kill thirteen muggles and stage your own death to incriminate Sirius?"
"Yes."
James turned back to Fudge, eyebrow raised. See? his expression seemed to ask smugly.
"Well, yes, that does shed some light on the matter," the Minister said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking a bit sheepish. "But the rest of the Wizengamot has to make an official decision."
"Yes, but it is obvious already that they will vote in Sirius' favor," Lily said. "Wormtail's testimony has made his guilt quite plain."
"Well," Fudge said awkwardly, turning to James and Sirius, "the only thing that still has to be settled is your registration."
"Our what?" Sirius shouted, springing to his feet seemingly without noticing the sudden absence of the chains.
"Weasley," Fudge said, ignoring Sirius' outburst, "run up to the Animagus Registry and bring down some forms."
Percy, who would normally rush off on any errand the Minister sent him on, slowly set down his quill and closed his inkwell. He started to walk leisurely towards the door, carefully shutting it on his way out.
"Step on it!" Fudge called after him.
"We are not registering," James said. "And quite frankly, you are in no position to force us to do so."
"As Minister—" Fudge began pompously.
Lily, by now thoroughly exasperated by the man's infantile behavior, cut in. "Stop! Just stop all this 'I am the Minister' rubbish!" she snapped, her temper flaring. "You are going to keep this little meeting a secret, and you are not going to require James and Sirius to register!"
"Or you will do what?" Fudge asked smugly. He'd clearly forgotten that he had no leverage to negotiate.
"Or we are going to ruin your political career before tomorrow morning," Lily said softly. She didn't need to shout to make the threat effectively.
Fudge paled.
"Now all you have to do is sign this." Lily indicated the contract that had been withheld earlier. She and Hermione had slaved over for nearly four hours the night before. Following the example Hermione had set last year with the DA contract, they had cast every jinx, hex, and curse they knew on it. If Fudge even thought about telling someone, he would receive an electric shock. And if he did tell someone, Merlin help those who saw him. Not to mention the memory charm that would hit all those in a fifty-foot radius of the minister.
Setting the scroll down his desk, Lily handed him a quill.
Fudge took it with a trembling hand, looking fearfully at the group that had surrounded his desk. Dumbledore stood in the back of the room, gazing upon his students, former and current, with a look of intense pride.
Dipping the quill in the pot of ink, Fudge scrawled his name at the bottom of the roll of parchment.
Just as he did so, Percy returned with a stack of papers. "Here are the forms you requested..." he trailed off at the sight of his boss looking dejected and slumped over his desk. "Minister?" Percy asked tactfully. "Do you need anything? Is everything all right?"
"Just fine, Weasley; we won't be needing those forms after all," Fudge said in a monotone. "Please return them to the Animagus Registry when you get a moment. And go back out to the court room and tell them that we are ready to resume the public portion of the trial."
"Yes, sir," Percy responded, looking at each of the assembled group in turn for a hint of what was going on, but receiving none. He walked back towards the door, casting a backward glance at them before shutting it quietly behind him. In his hands were his quill, inkwell, and a few scrolls.
Harry assumed he would come back later to collect the unused forms.
They sat in stony silence until Hermione jumped when the door opened of its own accord. Harry and Ron coughed rather loudly to cover their laughter and they both received a smack on the shoulder.
Fudge and Dumbledore led the assembly back into the courtroom. As they walked in, the whispering of the crowd washed over them.
Sirius was led back to his original seat, few noticing, or, for that matter, caring about that Sirius was not restrained (the chains having clanged and threatened to strap him down only to receive a smart swat from Tonks).
Kingsley had settled Peter back into his seat as well, the antidote to the truth serum was administered, and the scared, panicked look returned to the rat-like face.
"As we are all reassembled," Fudge began, "we may as well make the verdict now. All those who believe that Peter Pettigrew is guilty?"
The whole of the Wizengamot raised their hands.
"Those who believe he is innocent?"
No one moved.
"Peter Pettigrew is found guilty of the murder of thirteen muggles, of framing Sirius Black of that crime in addition to his own staged murder, betraying the Potters to Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and being an illegal Animagus. He will be taken into Ministry custody and sent to Azkaban pending sentencing," Fudge droned.
Just hurry up! Harry thought, sitting on the edge of his chair as he waited for them to pronounce his godfather innocent—a guilty verdict was an impossibility; there could be no other outcome than Sirius' acquittal.
Wormtail's mother was in hysterics by the time Fudge was finished reading her son's crimes. Shifflet was trying to calm her as best he could, finally producing a small flask from his inside robe pocket and urging her to take a tiny sip.
"Those who believe in Black's guilt?" Fudge called out.
Silence.
"Those in favor of declaring Sirius Black innocent of all charges?"
Immediately the hands of all the Wizengamot members flew upwards.
"I hereby declare Sirius Orion Black innocent." Fudge dropped his gavel on the desk, the resonating bang giving the impression that it was made of stone, not wood. The sound echoed off the stone walls, then, as it sunk in, one by one, the crowd stood, clapping, until the whole room (with the exception of Peter and Mrs. Pettigrew) was on its feet, cheering.
Sirius was in shock. Now that the truth was known and he was once more a free man, he didn't seem to know how to react.
Harry vaulted over the side of the defense box to run to his godfather.
Harry's sudden motion seemed to shake Sirius out of his daze. He stood and wrapped his godson in a tight embrace.
"You're free, Padfoot!" Harry said elatedly, his voice slightly muffled by his godfather's robes.
The first of many camera flashes went off. Harry and Sirius' embrace was one of the many pictures that appeared on the front of the Daily Prophet the next morning, making up the whole of the front page and the next. The headlines read:
Bureaucratic Blunder Uncovered—Sirius Black Innocent
Peter Pettigrew convicted of betraying the Potters to You-Know-How!
Needless to say, Voldemort was less than pleased as he slammed down the newspaper. That fool he thought to himself. He had always known that Wormtail was an idiot, but to be wandering around Hogwarts grounds on a full moon? Snape he realized. Why did Severus fail to report this; he had to have known. Voldemort thought. Severus had better have a good explanation for this—for his own sake.
The next day found the Potters saying quick good-byes to Remus, Sirius, Ron, and Hermione in the Great Hall after breakfast.
"We'll come over around dinnertime," Sirius said, hugging Lily.
"Of course—right in time for food," Lily laughed.
"What do you expect from a Marauder?" Remus asked innocently.
"The Portkey will activate in a minute," Dumbledore reminded the group gently, handing Harry an old quill.
Lily and James moved closer to their son, each placing a finger on the quill.
"Don't do anything stupid." Hermione warned.
"What could he do in his own house?" Ron asked, facing Hermione with his arms crossed.
"I'm just saying," Hermione replied crossly. "You know Harry has a knack for getting into trouble."
The last thing Harry saw was Ron and Hermione facing off as Sirius and Remus watched them and laughed. Then everything swirled together and he felt that all-too-familiar tug behind his navel, his feet lifting from the ground.
When the spinning stopped a moment later, Harry found himself standing outside a moderately sized house. It was white, with red shutters and a large front lawn. A stone walkway led from the sidewalk to the front door, and there were flowers planted alongside it.
Similarly sized houses, far enough away to allow privacy, stood adjacent to the house. Small children were playing in a park that seemed to be at the heart of the neighborhood.
Harry looked around in amazement. This is my home—my home, he repeated to himself, over and over.
Harry heard quiet sniffling and turned to see his mother dabbing at her eyes.
"They put it back, James—exactly how we left it," Lily whispered, as if it would disappear in an instant and become again the pile of rubble it had been after that night—that horrible night none of them wanted to remember.
James nodded and led the way up the path. Arriving at the red door, he looked to Harry for the key.
Harry pulled the key from his pocket and gently slipped it into the lock, turning it until he heard a click. Harry turned the handle and pushed the door open. He started to step back to let his mum in first, but James ushered him in. "Go on, Harry," he said warmly. "Have a look around."
They stepped into a hallway with dark wood flooring and picture frames adorning the walls. Harry could have looked for hours at the pictures alone; there were so many!
There were photos of the Marauders on what appeared to be the last day of school. All of them were waving happily at the camera and sporting bright grins. Beside that hung a Muggle picture of James and Lily at their wedding, standing under an arch of lilies, much to Lily's amusement. Then another, of baby Harry sleeping in the crook of his father's arm as James read the paper around his son, turning the page every once in a while.
A few feet down the wall, an assortment of Marauder pictures were displayed. There were photos of Harry as a toddler riding on a big black dog's back, laughing; of Remus feeding Harry and getting splattered with applesauce every time Harry spit it back out.
Then there were images depicting Sirius and Harry asleep on the couch, then Remus and Harry asleep on the couch, and in every picture, soft snores could be heard if one listened closely.
Last was one of Lily and James, smiling proudly for the camera and cradling a raven-haired newborn between them.
James guided Lily from the old pictures towards the new. They started with Harry at one, then at two, three—pictures of Harry for every year he'd lived since he was born. All were smiling shyly at the group.
"How did they..." Lily trailed off as she watched her son grow from picture to picture, year to year.
"Dumbledore must have done it," James offered in explanation.
Just left off the hallway was a dining room, a mahogany table stretching almost the length of the room and huge windows letting the morning light shine in.
Backing out of the room and shutting the French doors, Harry and his parents turned to the archway opposite the dinning room door.
This room was a library filled with books; hundreds upon hundreds of them lined the walls. Muggle volumes shared the shelves with magical ones; there were books on every topic and by every writer imaginable. A couch faced the fireplace, and a small table with a chair stood to the side of the fireplace.
"Hermione will die of envy," Harry said, looking around and hearing his parents chuckle just behind him.
The right wall sported a door that looked to be squeezed in between the bookshelves. Harry walked over and opened it, entering a study. A huge desk lined one wall, facing a window that looked out in to the side yard, facing east so one could see the sun rising in the morning.
There was a mixture here of Muggle and magical items, just as there had been in the library. The desk had a telephone, drawers full of quills, pens, parchment, and ink. Off to the side of the desk were filling cabinets. A round table sat in the middle of the room, chairs all around it.
Harry turned to his parents who where investigating the contents of the filling cabinets. "A telephone?" he asked.
"Your mum's," came James' short reply. It seemed that he had found an interesting notebook and was flipping through it.
"I used it when your aunt and I were...on better terms than we are now," Lily said, grappling for the right words.
"You do realize that we're going to have to inform them that we're back," James said absentmindedly.
Lily nodded and moved on to another notebook, trying to avoid that topic for the moment.
Leaving the study, Harry headed for the steps that he saw when he first entered. Climbing the red carpeted stairs, Harry found pictures that could only be his relatives, for they showed some of the same people that he remembered seeing in the Mirror of Erised.
James and Lily followed, pointing each one out along the way.
At the top of the stairs, there was another long hallway with doors on both sides and one at the very end.
Turning, Harry opened the first door on his left. Stepping in, he found the room warm and inviting, with red and gold walls and Quidditch posters all around—and the bed in the middle of the room had a huge stuffed dog on it.
"And why does Sirius sleep with a stuffed animal?" Harry asked his father when he spotted it.
James started to chuckle at the memory the dog brought back. "It was the Christmas holidays during our seventh year, and your mum dragged us into Muggle London—"
"Correction—Sirius dragged us in," Lily said. She was standing near a window that looked out on the backyard.
"Anyway, we were walking along the streets and Sirius spotted this toy store," James continued. Harry began to grin. He could guess where this story was going.
"So he proceeded to plead and beg with us until we agreed to go in with him. He saw these animals and bought everyone one, according to our Animagus forms. I think I ended up giving mine to you."
"It turned out to be appropriate, too," Harry said wryly.
"You do recall how ridiculous we looked carrying them around all day?" Lily asked.
"It's your own fault for not letting us shrink them."
"With all the Muggles staring at us? The Ministry would have loved that," Lily called over her shoulder as she left the room.
James rolled his eyes as he got up to follow her and Harry out of the room and into the next. The walls were navy blue, and a crib stood in the far right corner. A changing table was next to it, and toys overflowed from several huge toy chests. Harry picked up a worn bear that was sitting on top of the nearest one.
I remember this, Harry thought as he gently sat the bear back down and turned to walk out of the room when he heard a small shuffle that caused him to turn back around.
The bear had left its sitting position and was now walking around the top of the chest, it's arms moving up and down like that of a soldier.
Harry started at it with wide eyes for a second before causally picking up the bear and turning it over, looking for an off switch.
James was looking at the old posters and thinking to himself that they would need to be updated. Lily was running her hand along the edge of the crib, starting down into it, lost in thought and memory.
"Um, Dad?" Harry asked, having no luck finding the switch to turn the bear off.
"What?" James turned and when he saw the bear a wide grin spread across his face. "Oh Merlin, that thing? Sirius gave that to you one night when he and Remus were minding you. I never could get it to turn off, myself." James had a look of concentration on his face as he looked for a way to get the bear to stop.
"Oh honestly, give it here." Lily extended her hand for the toy.
James handed it over with a smirk.
"All you have to do is take the batteries out," Lily said, as she searched for the plate that held them in. Finding it, she removed one of the two batteries triumphantly, and the bear slowly ground to a halt. "See?" she said smugly. "Nothing difficult."
No sooner had the final word issued from her lips than the toy began to move again. "What!" Lily exclaimed in surprise, looking down upon it. Taking out the other battery did nothing to stop the pumping of its legs. "Fine, be that way." Lily shut the chest, trapping the bear inside.
Harry could still hear the bear's legs and arms hitting the top of the trunk.
Walking past James and Harry, who were trying to stifle their laughter, and heading for the door, she warned them, "Not a word."
James and Harry followed Lily to the room next door, to the right.
The walls were dark red with gold accents, and a huge four-poster bed stood in the center of the room. A large dresser stood against one wall, more pictures scattered over its surface.
Walking over to a door, Harry opened it to reveal a bathroom with a bathtub that could rival the one in the prefects' bathroom. A shower and toilet took over the next wall. Along the third were a wide sink and plenty of counter-space and a number of drawers beneath it.
From the bathroom, Harry could hear his mother exclaim over one of the pictures. From what he could gather, whoever had taken the pictures of him in the downstairs hallway had made a smaller, more compact version to sit on a dresser in the bedroom.
Another door led Harry out of the bathroom, into a walk-in closet, where robes were hung, shoes were laid out, and an ironing board stood propped up in one corner. Harry glanced over the robes. The styles he saw were outdated now, but still interesting to look at.
Leaving his parents room, Harry found that the door at the end of the hall was a guest bath. It was almost the same as the master, but with a slightly smaller tub and a linen closet.
Starting on the right side of the hall now, Harry worked his way back up. The first two doors were guest bedrooms. The last door, nearest the stairs, led to Remus' room. A stuffed wolf propped up on the bed made Harry smile. (The small bookshelf that doubled as a nightstand helped, too, for it was filled with Defense Against the Dark Arts books.)
Going back downstairs, Harry found one more door before the end of the hallway. It led into a simple power room.
The end of the hall opened into a dining room with a wooden table in the center. A sliding glass door, facing Harry, led to the big backyard. To the left was a family room. Several overstuffed chairs were spread out around the room, with a couch in front of the fireplace and a grandfather clock beside it.
By the window was an impressive marble chess set that James was currently reuniting with.
"Where's that boy of yours?" the gruff voice of the black king asked.
"Now dear, that's not very polite!" His mate, the black queen, reprimanded him quickly.
"Wasn't trying to be polite," the king muttered as his wife over took the conversation.
"Where has your charming little boy gotten off to?" she asked.
James looked around and saw Harry leaning against the archway into the room. Motioning for him to come closer, James warned the chess set, "He has grown up a bit since you last saw him."
Harry sat down in the chair opposite his father. All the pieces turned to look at him.
"My, my, lad's turned out just like his father!" the white king pronounced proudly.
"Merlin's beard, I remember when you would put us down to play with the little tyke on the floor. I am assuming that you are old enough to play proper chess now?" One of the bishops addressed Harry, who nodded in agreement.
"Would you fancy a game?" the white knight asked, turning to James.
"No, thank you. I believe we have the rest of the house to see, but I promise you one soon," James said as he and Harry rose from their seats.
"I'll hold you to it," the knight called as they walked away.
"Ron's got to meet them," Harry said as they left.
James nodded in agreement.
Coming out of that room and through the dining room, Harry found himself in the kitchen. It had tile flooring, in contrast to the wood flooring that was dominant in most of the house. The kitchen was fresh and airy, and held all the necessary implements for cooking. The door on the far wall led back into the dining room.
Lily was currently mixing something in a bowl while apples were being peeled over the sink by a magical peeler.
"Starting on apple pies already?" James asked as the smell of cinnamon and sugar wafted into the air.
"If you care to remember, most of the Order is coming over tonight for dinner, and if you want to even dream about a second piece of pie, then yes, I do have to start right now." Lily turned from where she was rolling out the dough. "And if you don't leave me in peace, there will be no pie for either of you." She smiled, touching her son and husband's noses with a floured finger.
James took the hint and led his son out of the kitchen and through a door at the far end of it. From this, stairs led downwards to an enormous den. There were gaming tables everywhere. There was also a huge L-shaped couch in front of a TV, next to which a shelf of movies stood.
"Where did the TV come from?" Harry asked.
James pointed his finger to the ceiling. "Your mum again," he said. "Some Muggle things strike me as rather foolish, but I've grown fond of that one."
Harry laughed as he wiped the flour from his nose and moved to check out the movies.
The grandfather clock had just struck five when the doorbell rang. James and Harry were still in the basement, and the last time Lily checked on them, they were involved in a fierce foosball competition.
Lily put the last plate down on the dining room table before heading to the door. Before she go there, the door burst open and for a moment, all her thoughts went back to that night fifteen years ago.
She was quickly shaken out of her daze as Sirius yelled, "I'm home! Where is everybody?"
"Wipe your feet and come in, Sirius." Lily said as she rounded the corner into the hallway. " James and Harry are downstairs playing foosball."
Sirius grinned. "See you when dinner's ready!" he called over his shoulder as he headed for the basement steps.
That left Remus standing inside the door.
"You can come in, Remus; the house won't bite," Lily joked.
Remus steeped into the foyer, looking around in amazement. "Wow, Lily . . ."
Lily nodded and said quietly, "I know."
There was silence for a moment before Lily took command, "Ok, you have two choices, either go down and play with the boys, or help me in the kitchen."
Remus started to answer before Lily put a finger to his lips. "You are also making the decision if you want an extra piece of pie or not at the end of dinner."
Remus obediently followed Lily into the kitchen, "Now what should I do first?"
Lily laughed, "Go on! Get yourself downstairs; Molly can help me when she comes. I'm not sure I should trust you around the dinner."
Remus pretended to look hurt. "What! I can make a wonderful grilled- cheese sandwich!"
"Then you're serving lunch tomorrow." Lily said as she pushed him to basement door.
"Fine! Fine! I can tell when I am not wanted." Remus called over his shoulder as he descended into the basement and calls of, "Moony's here!" and "Moony, air hockey, you and me!"
Lily smiled as she went back to the oven to check on the ham.
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Mrs. Fawkes
