Welcome back, everyone! If you haven't caught up with the story so far, I suggest reading James Potter and the Auror of Hogwarts before starting this book. And if you REALLY haven't done your reading, the adventure begins with James Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor. I'm very excited for this new installment, so thank you for being so patient!
P.S. This may look familiar for some of you, but I only released the first half of this chapter as a preview. Skip down or read the whole thing to refamiliarize yourself with the story! I've added a page break to make the new content easier to locate.
The Room Behind the Flower Shop
The wind whistled gently through the abandoned street, the dripping clouds hanging over Godric's Hollow like a drenched tent flap. Muggles and wizards alike were walking briskly through the town, intent on getting home before the dusk could settle into total darkness. Most of the neighborhood stores were empty, and a few shopkeepers poked their heads outside to stare at the misty sky. After a single drop of rain fell onto each of their noses, they stepped outside to collapse the overhead awnings.
Crossing rapidly over the wet cobblestones, the pattering footsteps of the passersby signaled both the visible activity of the street and the invisible alike, for James Potter and Sirius Black were currently draped underneath the former's Invisibility Cloak as they rushed to the local flower shop. Both boys had grown several centimeters during the summer months, and the Cloak had gotten a little more cramped than before; however, if their pacing feet ever happened to slip out from the Cloak's cover, none of the other pedestrians took heed as they shielded their heads from the sprinkling rain.
After a few minutes, James and Sirius reached the flower shop and ducked inside while a bell jingled above their heads, the premises empty save for a petite witch dressed in a pale pink kimono. Dozens of flower arrangements lined the walls, the flora as crisp as the moist air outside, and James fought back a sneeze as a dozen different pollens hit his nose at once. Hearing the boys' entrance, the witch looked up from behind the front desk and watched as James and Sirius pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, shivering as they adjusted to the warmth of the cozy building.
"You should have waited until we went into the back," the witch admonished them in a high, monotone voice, taking a sip of the tea in her wrinkled hands.
"No one's out at this hour," Sirius scoffed, shaking out the Cloak before handing it to James, who quickly pocketed it. "It's not like anyone's going to see us."
Shrugging, the witch stood as James shook out his wild black hair and turned to her. "Is he here yet, Ms. Xu?"
"He's looting my supplies in the back," Ms. Xu replied shortly, beginning an unhurried pace to the curtain separating the Muggle-friendly section of the store from the back room.
After sharing a look, James and Sirius followed her behind the periwinkle curtain, soon spotting a squat, bandy-legged man where he was examining a green bottle that had once sat on one of the room's many shelves. Although Ms. Xu did not so much as open her mouth to reprimand him, the short wizard turned and disposed of the bottle so quickly that James wondered if he had ever in fact been holding it. The man had the lightest features of everyone in the room, his red hair distinctly brighter than the jet black heads of Ms. Xu and the boys, but nothing about his demeanor suggested friendliness. As with their last few meetings, James caught the distinct scent of tobacco and whiskey, which had been unnoticeable in the previous room's flowery aroma.
"Ah, you're here!" the wizard wheezed as if he had not been expecting James and Sirius, and his brown eyes darted around the room. "You have the money, don't ya?"
Reaching into their pockets without a word, James and Sirius each produced a handful of gold Galleons and dropped the coins into the wizard's waiting grasp.
"There you are, Mr. Fletcher," James announced unsmilingly.
"Oh, I've told you before to call me Mundungus," the short-legged man told him with a wave of his free hand, licking his lips as he fingered the gold. Breaking into a smile, he replaced the Galleons in his palm with a small, corked bottle and offered it to the boys. "Your death's-head hawkmoth chrysalis, as promised."
After grabbing the bottle, James carefully pulled off the top and examined the delicate insect pupa inside. Next to him, Sirius frowned and faced Mundungus.
"What about the Mandrake leaves?"
"Well, the market's going through some hard times," Mundungus told him, shrugging with an upturned smile. "It's difficult to find rare specimens at a time like this."
"Merlin's foot!" Sirius spat. "You should only get half of what we gave you!"
"The other ingredients will come, lads!" Mundungus insisted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Just be patient, now!"
"Sirius is right! You promised that you'd have the Mandrake leaves by now!" James agreed, putting the chrysalis aside. "I want our money back!"
"Now, hold on!" Mundungus pleaded, raising his hands. "I'll get the rest to you in no time at all! Consider the money a down payment on the rest of the delivery."
"Now, listen here, you old miser," Sirius growled, "you give us our money back, or we'll—"
"Keep it out of the shop, lads," Ms. Xu interrupted, watching the exchange with her arms crossed.
"If you don't give us our money back, we'll take you outside and square off there," Sirius corrected.
"All right, all right, there's no need to grow nasty!" Mundungus sniveled, taking a few Galleons out of his pocket and returning them to the boys, who counted them carefully.
"You're still not excused from the rest of the deal," James reminded Mundungus, narrowing his eyes.
"I would assume not, as long as you still agree to my pay," he grumbled, and the boys glared at him until he looked away. "Well, miss," Mundungus addressed Ms. Xu, "is there anything I can interest you in today?"
"If you still don't have anything better than a bag of eggplant seeds and a couple of Flobberworm caps, then you can stop thieving my shop," she told him, and he waddled towards the curtain with a small shrug. On his way out, Sirius grabbed Mundungus before he could jerk away, using their height difference to pull him close; even at fourteen, Sirius was a few centimeters taller than the grubby wizard.
"How much longer, then?" Sirius hissed. "A month?"
"At least two, Mr. Black!" Mundungus insisted with a voice like a greasy cog. "Give me until November, will you? Times are hard."
Shoving him away, Sirius allowed Mundungus to slink through the curtain as Ms. Xu stared after him.
"How can you stand him?" James demanded of the witch, gesturing towards the still-flapping fabric. "He's about the smarmiest fellow you can get!"
"You need a few keen-eyed contacts to run a place like this," she replied, motioning towards the shelves packed to overflowing with herbs, assorted animal parts, and other potion ingredients. "Unfortunately, Mundungus happens to be one of the keenest. Now, what do you have there?" she inquired, leaning over while James gave her the hawkmoth chrysalis. After examining the specimen closely, she turned and stashed the bottle on a shelf behind her. "Unfortunately, this is only useful in the last stage of brewing the potion. You still need the Mandrake leaves to start the process."
"Mundungus said that he should have them by November," James interjected. "If he does, we can start as soon as we come back for the holidays!"
"Perhaps," Ms. Xu said with her usual amount of disinterest, though a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she saw James' excitement. "I'm sorry there's not any more I can do. Now make sure you get to your homes in time for dinner, or you'll be missed. We'll discuss my payment when you have all the ingredients."
"Thanks, Ms. Xu!" James and Sirius answered on their way through the curtain, waving as Ms. Xu levitated a broom with a wave of her hand and made it dance across the floor.
Pulling on the Invisibility Cloak, James and Sirius took their leave of the shop and scurried back down the street, retracing their footsteps over the glistening cobblestones. The sun had just disappeared beneath the shingled rooftops, and the rain now pattered on the empty roads in earnest.
After a few minutes of walking, the boys reached a narrow alleyway entrance, and they ducked inside to rid themselves of the Invisibility Cloak. Now exposed to the precipitation, they assumed a quicker gait as they emerged from the alley, talking about a make-believe afternoon that they had spent in the local park. No one threw them a second glance as the sun's final rays peeked through the crowded buildings, exploding in an orange array amid the specks of rain falling to the earth.
"Do you think that we'll be able to tell Remus soon?" James asked Sirius when the street had cleared out, leaving just the two of them walking alone. "I can't stand waiting."
"It doesn't look like we'll be able to say anything until we've finished with the Mandrake leaves, at least," Sirius responded, kicking a stray rock and watching it bounce away. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kicked at the rock again and sighed as it rocketed away. "Once we're nearly finished with the Animagus Potion, I think that it'll be safe to finally let him know."
"Right," James agreed, smiling. "He can't stop us from becoming Animagi when we're nearly there, can he?"
Laughing together, he and Sirius lowered the volume of their voices as a woman turned the corner and strode past them. Rummaging through his pockets with a frown, Sirius admitted, "I wish that old Mundungus didn't charge so much. I'm nearly drained of the money I stole from my parents."
Grunting, James nodded as the rain continued to dot his glasses with transparent beads. He and Sirius had met Mundungus almost by chance when they had returned home from Hogwarts for the summer, and his partnership was as much as a curse as it was a blessing. Truthfully, it was Sirius who had met Mundgungus first; he had reportedly pried the stubby wizard out of a rubbish bin near 12 Grimmauld Place, from which Sirius had escaped after an argument with his mother. Sirius had not lasted more than a week at his house before contacting James and asking to spend the summer with the Potters, and the boys had run across Mundungus once again when they first visited Ms. Xu's apothecary in the hope of locating Mandrake leaves. By their second meeting, Sirius had surmised that Mundungus was some sort of an expert in the black market, untrustworthy though he may be, and he and James struck a deal with him in their desperation to find ingredients for the rare Animagus Potion, which would enable them to turn into animals at will. As of yet, the hawkmoth chrysalis was the only real benefit that Mundungus had provided for the boys, and James hoped that he would live up to his promise of securing the Mandrake leaves.
Although James harbored no gratitude for Mundungus, Ms. Xu had proved a valuable partner in the boys' schemes, having an extensive knowledge of potion-brewing and a dislike for probing questions. Overall, despite his mistrust of Mundungus, James could not think of a better duo to keep his and Sirius' mission a secret, which was a necessity due to legal matters. He and Sirius had not even relayed their plan to their more ethically-minded friend at Hogwarts, whom they had uncovered as a werewolf two years ago and had prompted their attempt to become Animagi.
After walking a few more blocks, James and Sirius opened the front door of Potter Cottage and slipped inside, shivering to rid their clothes of the raindrops. In just a few moments after they had shut the door, Winthrop the house-elf came waddling around the corner and nodded at the boys.
"Not a pleasant evening for the park, Master James?" he asked, reaching up for the boys' outer coats as they pulled them off.
"Too wet," James told him, gazing over the top of the house-elf's bushy white head. "Are my parents upstairs?"
Frowning when Winthrop did not respond right away, James glanced down at the house-elf's pressed lips. "Winthrop?" he prodded again, and Winthrop looked up at him with a twitch of his ear.
"Winthrop last saw them in the reading room," he answered as he turned away, but James recognized his averted eyes as an attempt to distract James from trouble.
"Why are they in the reading room?" James prodded with a sly smile, and Winthrop shrugged.
"Winthrop cannot say."
"Cannot or will not?" James teased, and Winthrop glared at him.
"Would Master like his supper or not?" he threatened.
"Is it in the dining room?" Sirius interjected, brightening.
"Yes, but it has gone cold in Master Black's and Master James' absence," Winthrop replied, turning away with their coats in hand.
"Well, you can heat it up on the stove while we go find my parents," James told him, and he and Sirius began running up the stairs as Winthrop spun around.
"Master James, wait a moment!" he called out, his voice jumping up even higher than its usual squeak, but the boys ignored him and raced around the corner at the top of the staircase.
In just a few moments, James pushed open the door to the upstairs reading room, expecting to find his parents sitting together in the far corner. Unexpectedly, nothing moved at their entrance, and James soon saw that the room was empty save for the towering bookshelves and the heavy, forest-green carpet underneath his feet.
"Aren't your parents in here?" Sirius asked, stepping into the room behind his friend, but James ignored him as he approached the two armchairs in the opposite corner. Spotting a copy of The Daily Prophet lying on one of the cushions, most likely left by his father, James picked it up and started to scan the front page. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the most interesting headline announcing the recent slaughtering of the Lucky Leprechauns in the International Quidditch Tournament by the largely unskilled Banchory Bangers.
However, as James flipped the newspaper to the other side, a small caption near the bottom of the page caught his eye, and he let out a gasp as his stomach twisted. Immediately jumping to his side, Sirius looked over his shoulder while James tried to wad up the newspaper, his head reeling.
"What is it?" Sirius insisted, finally succeeding in wrenching the paper away from James. "Let me see!"
"Wait, Sirius, don't—" James warned, but he stopped protesting as Sirius froze.
"Seven Reported Werewolf Attacks Last Full Moon: Three Muggles Dead," Sirius read aloud slowly, lowering The Daily Prophet. Looking at James, he finished, "Death Eater Recruitment Suspected."
His mouth dry, James did not have time to respond before a pair of thudding footsteps caused him to turn around, and he came face-to-face with his father just as he reached the doorframe and clutched it with one hand. Disheveled from his hurry, the wrinkled wizard rubbed his sweat-beaded scalp and gaped at the boys.
"I didn't know you had gotten back!" he breathed, his sides moving with the effort of his lungs. "Have you eaten yet?"
Still unable to speak, James and Sirius only shook their heads as James' father attempted to catch his breath, supporting his weight on the doorframe. He was wearing a stain-marked apron, which only served to make his exhausted appearance even more comical as he continued to gasp for air. "Your food should be waiting downstairs. Didn't Winthrop tell you—"
Breaking off, he recovered almost at once from his run and stepped into the room, staring at the two boys. "Is something the matter? You both look a little pale."
As James and Sirius shared a quick glance, James wrested the newspaper from his friend's hand and shook it out to reveal the article of interest. "What's this?" he asked, and his father took the newspaper in turn to squint at the headline.
"Ah, yes," he replied, rapping The Daily Prophet with his finger. Pursing his lips, he frowned at the boys. "I'm sorry to have left this lying around. I didn't mean to give you a scare."
"This can't be right!" James protested, pointing at the newspaper. "Lord Voldemort can't be recruiting werewolves!"
Seeming to mistake James' bewilderment for fear, his father tossed The Daily Prophet on the armchair and raised his hands to the boys' shoulders. "I know what you're feeling right now. This is frightening news, but you've got to remember that these incidents are often preventable with proper precautions. Most often, people are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and all these reports came far from Godric's Hollow. You shouldn't have to worry."
After sharing a glance with Sirius, James stared down at the floor and balled up his fists. He could not refute his father for fear of giving away Remus' secret, but he knew that the reporters for The Daily Prophet had to be messing up the facts. Although he had thought ill of werewolves in the past, James had changed his misconceptions after learning that Remus bore none of the bloodthirsty qualities normally attributed to his kind.
Unluckily, Sirius seemed to have less prudence than James, and he objected, "What if it was just a coincidence? Don't werewolves lose control of themselves on the full moon?"
"Well, I suppose it could have been," James' father relented, stroking his chin, "but the odds of seven attacks in one night doesn't look too good, especially when months or even years can go by without a werewolf-related incident. They've been cropping up in droves recently, and nearly all of the attacks seem to involve Muggles or half-blood families." Scratching the back of his neck, he threw a glance at the newspaper lying on the armchair. "Personally, I wouldn't be too surprised if the werewolves made a deal with the Death Eaters, especially since the Ministry doesn't favor their kind. They'll likely have a few grievances that they'd love to settle, and they probably see joining You-Know-Who's army as the easiest way to retaliate. It's unfortunate, really."
Biting back another objection, James kept quiet as his father smiled ruefully and rubbed his son's hair out of place. "Anyway, I think it's about time that you got your supper. Winthrop was threatening to throw your plates out if you didn't get back before the sun went down, and I think it's far past then."
As he led the boys to the door, James slowly ambled out of the reading room while Sirius ran ahead, apparently invigorated by the mention of food. Glancing up at his father again, James gestured towards the bridge of his nose.
"You have grease on your face," he told him, and James' father quickly reached up to rub his nose.
"Ah! So I do! Thank you, James," he answered before giving a harried glance in the direction where Sirius had run off. Lowering his voice, he whispered, "To be completely honest, I was a bit panicked when you and Sirius came back so unexpectedly. I bought an old motorbike from a lovely Muggle couple who live down the street, and I was planning to give it to Sirius when you come home for Christmas."
"That's a fantastic idea!" James encouraged. "He'll love it!"
"I heard how he loves Muggle Studies, and I couldn't turn down the bike when I saw a sign on the neighbors' lawn," James' father replied, rubbing his hands on his apron again. "Of course, it's going to need a bit more fixing before it's ready. I only just managed to hide it in the back shed when Winthrop came to get me."
"I'll make sure that Sirius doesn't find it before we go to Hogwarts," James promised before waving his father goodbye and thudding down the stairs.
Upon reaching the dining room, James slipped into a chair next to Sirius, who had already taken several mouthfuls of his roast. Drumming his fingers on the table, James stared at the far wall for a moment and ignored the food sitting in front of him.
"The Ministry has to be getting it wrong!" he finally said aloud. "The werewolves can't be working for Lord Voldemort! You know Remus! He'd never do anything like that!"
Swallowing a bite far too big for his mouth, Sirius licked his lips before turning to James. "I'm not sure what to think . . . I know that Remus would never do something like that, but are you sure about the rest of them?" When James whipped around to glare at him, he raised his hands and continued, "I mean, your dad has a point—we probably have scary stories about werewolves for a reason. And just how many werewolf attacks are bound to happen at once?"
"Well, The Daily Prophet was wrong," James repeated, crossing his arms. "Werewolves aren't evil. You know that as well as me! They can't help themselves on the full moon—you said so yourself!"
Looking away, Sirius made a motion somewhat like a shrug and took another mouthful of food. "Sure, but they shouldn't have been outside, anyway," he spoke, his voice muffled.
"I'm sure it was just an accident," James asserted. "They're not part of the Death Eaters."
"But your dad doesn't know that," Sirius pointed out, stabbing his plate with his fork. "So unless you want to raise a lot of uncomfortable questions, I suggest that we don't bring it up again."
"All right," James agreed, sighing. "I just wish someone was on our side." After a moment, he snapped his fingers and nodded. "Peter'll get it. It's just too bad that he isn't the editor for The Daily Prophet."
"I'm not sure it would matter if he was," Sirius commented. "My father works at the Ministry, and I've seen his name mentioned in The Daily Prophet loads of times. The strange thing is, he shouldn't have even been involved in half of the things that he gets interviewed for, but I know that he'd blow me off if I ask about it. My guess is, the Ministry is more involved with The Daily Prophet than they'd care to admit."
"But The Daily Prophet isn't printed at the Ministry of Magic, is it?"
"No, but the Ministry is still the biggest wizarding powerhouse in England," Sirius pointed out. "And Jenkins isn't the most open-minded Minister we've ever had, if you take what we learned about her two years ago as an example. She even tried to recruit Dumbledore to bootlick with her, remember? I bet that she keeps a tight grip on what the publications say."
"You might be right," James admitted, frowning down at the table again. "I just hope that Remus isn't getting down about it. Knowing him, he'll be taking it pretty hard."
Nodding, Sirius played with his fork before turning to his friend. "We shouldn't mention it if he doesn't bring it up. Maybe he hasn't read about the attacks."
"Maybe," James echoed, turning to his food before Winthrop could enter and whisk it away. He hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Lupin had kept Remus from any newspapers throughout the summer, but he said nothing to Sirius as they ate in silence.