It felt quite strange to be getting ready for a party; he hadn't been to one since before –well, for a long time. But this Christmas party was promising to be a splendid evening.
Ten minutes later, he Apparated into the Leaky Cauldron with a pop. It was devoid of customers; Tom had closed shop already. But it was still festively decorated, and Tom sat waiting at the bar.
"Let's get this party started, eh?" he said with a toothless but kind grin.
Remus nodded, smiling politely, and sat at the table. Tom poured him a hearty mug of cocoa, and downed his own, toasting merrily to the season. Remus followed suit.
"Ah, that hits the spot…."
Several overflowing mugs of steamy rich cocoa later, Remus was slightly hyper.
iLordy, I'm never hyper,/i he thought, slightly befuddled. This reminded him of how hyper Lily used to get sometimes, when she ate Fizzing Whizbees. She wouldn't shut up for hours. Remus smiled slightly at the thought. It still hurt to think of them, but those were darn good times, strongly influenced by the butterbeer James and Sirius used to smuggle back from Hogsmeade. Good times, good times.
He downed another mug of cocoa, studying the candle flame thoughtfully. He admired its dancing beauty. Sometimes he felt an insatiable urge to snuff it, to stamp out that beauty. But tonight was one of those times he loved to simply watch it dance so gracefully in its splendor.
"Eh, I know what this party needs. Music."
With a flick of his wand, Tom turned on the record player. The tune that came out was an old favorite of Remus's.
iJingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock/i
It was quite the catchy tune, one he had listened to a lot during his years at Hogwarts.
He found himself tapping his foot in appreciation of the half-forgotten tune, and humming slightly.
Tom shuffled his feet slightly.
"Well, I, er, I got somethin' for ya."
He handed him a brightly wrapped package. Remus's own package seemed to pale in comparison, but he handed it over just the same.
"Unwrap it," Remus urged Tom.
Tom eagerly unwrapped his gift, reminding Remus of Harry at his first Christmas.
The plain brown paper slipped off the package to reveal a box of homemade fudge. It so happened that Remus was a proficient cook, although no expert.
With some trepidation, Remus slid the gaily colored paper off his own gift to reveal a particularly beautiful mug.
Tom ducked his head.
"I own a bar and all…"
Remus thanked him most profusely. The mug was a dark chocolaty brown in color, and emblazoned upon it was a wand. The spell it was emitting traveled all around the sufficiently large mug, until it twirled to an end when it met the wand again.
Tom and Remus continued to talk companionably, until the candles ran low and flickered dangerously. It must have been quite late by the time Remus Apparated to his flat, a warm feeling of contentment overwhelming him.
Remus had a fairly quiet Christmas and New Year's. He had missed the parties that he and his fellow Marauders had used to throw, from first year on out. Except the ones back then hadn't been nearly as lively as the ones since they graduated, two guesses why.
Remus Apparated to work one harsh January morning, well-bundled up in his indigo scarf, and got the bar up and running as usual. Business was molasses slow that morning – very few early morning stragglers. Remus pulled out the Daily Prophet and promptly proceeded to choke on his cocoa.
Huge headlines topped the page, along with a long article. He noted that the author was Rita Skeeter.
Remus skimmed the page, not that it was necessary after reading the headlines.
bDEATH EATER LAST DITCH ATTEMPT/b
iLate last night Death Eaters, apparently in a last ditch attempt to recover information, entered the home of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. When they refused to talk…/i
Remus skimmed the rest of the page, which told him how they had been tortured into insanity using the Cruciatus Curse.
He felt sick. This was why he had joined the Order - these people were sick and wrong. No one had ever done anything to them, yet they still killed and tortured. And worse, they ienjoyed/i it. They were monsters.
Silently he handed the paper to Tom, who was chatting happily about how Molly and Arthur Weasley had just had a baby girl. (A/N: Ginny was actually born August 12th I believe) Upon seeing the article, his face blanched to a pasty white.
"Those people don't deserve to call themselves human," he said in disgust.
Remus wholeheartedly agreed with him.
Over the next few weeks, the tension came to a rise. Articles about the tragedy continued to emerge, giving new updates. The worse the Longbottoms' condition, the angrier the customers of the Leaky Cauldron got. Quite understandably.
On this particular day, yet another article was printed reporting on the Longbottom case.
iFrank and Alice Longbottom were tortured by ragtag Death Eaters two weeks ago, under suspicion that they had information about You-Know-Who's whereabouts.
Yesterday the Ministry arrested Barty Crouch Jr., suspected under evidence from convicted Death Eater Igor Karkaroff. Arrested last week were Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange, who openly admitted to their part in the crime. However, Crouch pleads innocent.
The trial is set for February 19th.
In the meantime, St. Mungo's reports that the current condition of the Longbottoms may be permanent.
"It is not sure whether they will be able to recover from the significant brain damage they suffered during the attack," said an anonymous spokesperson.
To put the icing on the cake, the Longbottom's year old son, Neville, is left to live with his grandparents, possibly permanently.
"I feel for the poor boy, his parents taken from him at such a young age," said stately Augusta Longbottom, the boy's grandmother.
Court procedures are going on currently to make Mrs. Longbottom his temporary guardians are in the works. /i
Remus threw the paper down on the table. That poor boy. Having his parents forcibly removed from his life at such an early age. This thought reminded him of Harry and he winced.
All of the fuss about this was getting increasingly worrying. There was talk in the Cauldron about a protest. Remus felt that it was justified. The Ministry had thoroughly botched the whole case, with five false arrests at last count. They could only hope that this time they had the right people.
The Ministry had quite thoroughly botched the whole You-Know-Who thing. Everyone with half a brain knew there were still Death Eaters running around England like psycho maniacs, pretending to be respectable citizens. Many people had their suspicions, probably rightly placed too, but there was no ievidence/i.
iWhy is so much stress placed on evidence?/i thought Remus in exasperation. iWe all know they're Death Eaters./i
At the same time, he knew why the Ministry couldn't just arrest them.
Remus listened discreetly in on a conversation being held at the bar a few feet away from him, absently scanning the Prophet.
"I won't have it!" hissed an angry wizard. "The Ministry has no idea what they're doing, and I won't have it! We need a leader with a backbone, not like that bumbling Fudge monkey who just got into office."
The witch and wizard sitting with him nodded vigorously.
"I don't know what they were thinking, giving Fudge the top job," piped up the witch. "Now that there's Death Eaters running amok, we need someone who knows what they're doing."
The second wizard lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"I hear they're preparing a protest. February 19, nine o'clock."
"But that's the day of the trial," whispered the witch anxiously.
"That's the point."
The wizard stood up.
"I'm going. See you there."
He winked at the other two, and left the bar. The others exchanged a glance, then rose and followed him into Diagon Alley.
Remus was still gazing absently at the paper, thinking hard.