Second chapter. Woohoo!

The Price of Victory

November 5th, 1981

November 5th, 1981, approximately noon, Bartemius Crouch Jr. receives a summons

Barty tore the heavy envelope open and read the letter, an identical one sitting on his lap addressed to Regulus.

Dear Mr. Crouch,
It is my duty to inform you that you have been among those named as participating in Death Eater (thus Anti-Ministry) activity. It is the responsibility of the Ministry to look into all claims of this nature, and so you are required to attend a hearing on the 9th of November, 1981, in courtroom ten, and your case will be presented to the Wizengamot. If you do not arrive willingly, you will be brought in by force.
Signed,
Dolores J. Umbridge
Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.

Barty crumpled the letter up and chucked it across the room at Regulus, who was asleep on the sofa.

"Mmph, what?" he mumbled, shooting up.

"November 9th, we have a hearing," Barty said, throwing the unopened envelope to Regulus.

"You didn't read my mail for once," Regulus said.

"I can only assume that both letters say the same thing."

Regulus tore his open and read it quickly, then throwing it aside. "Actually mine said 'Hey Regulus, how about tea, love, the Minister of Magic'," he told Barty mockingly.

Barty rolled his eyes, ruffling his blond hair thoughtfully. "What are we going to do to keep out of Azkaban?" he asked.

Regulus laid back down, looking troubled. "I mean…they have no proof other than the word of Pettigrew, who obviously has shown the potential to be a traitor. We could make a case that he named you for shock value since you're the Minister's son." Barty made a contemptuous noise. "Then your dad might think that since he said you, he'd have to accuse me since we do everything together."

"We could try that," he agreed, but he seemed distant, like his mind wasn't on the hearing at all.

Truthfully, Regulus knew better than anyone how often Barty was in his own head more than he was paying attention to reality.

"Hey Barty, are you hungry?" he asked.

The blond blinked rapidly, and looked up. "Yeah sure. What do we have?"

"Not much," Regulus said with a laugh.

--

November 5th, 1981, approximately 3:00 PM. Remus Lupin hands the keys to his flat over, preparing for a move.

"Thank you," he said again to the woman as he handed her the keys to his former flat, all of his possessions (other than furniture, which he wasn't taking with him) stuffed into a battered old trunk he had used at Hogwarts and a fraying briefcase.

He left the building, waiting until there was no one around and sneaked to the back of the old building where no one would see him Disapparate directly into Sirius Black's flat.

Sirius was sitting on the sofa, Harry on his lap, asleep.

"I've been sitting like this for an hour," Sirius whispered when Remus gestured to Harry and raised an eyebrow. "He fell asleep on me, obviously."

Remus sat down on the sofa beside his old friend.

"I've got everything in order," he said. "Now we need to find a place big enough for the three of us, I guess."

Sirius nodded. "Hopefully this place will work for the time being," he said, looking around fondly at the flat. He didn't want to leave London, but he really felt it would be better for Harry if they did. It would be safer out where nobody knew their names or faces.

"We'll find something sooner than later, I'm sure," Remus said, trying to sound confident. "How is he?" he asked.

"He doesn't cry much until he has to go to bed. He likes playing with Padfoot, it calms him down when he's riled up. He says something that sounds like Mum once in a while."

"He walks?"

"He can take some steps yeah, mostly he still holds himself up though. Once we have more room, I think it'll be easier."

"Definitely. So did you read the paper- about Peter? And…"

"Regulus. Yeah."

"I think he can get off."

Sirius snorted. "Because he's best mates with the Ministers son, of course he can get off."

"He's a Death Eater but, as far as the Order has been aware, he's never really been an active member."

"Doesn't have the nerve."

"He could get off. My only real worry is what would happen if he did."

Sirius turned his gray eyes on Remus, a look of curiosity working into them. "What?"

"The remaining free Death Eaters aren't taking lightly to the ones that worm their way out of Azkaban. The traitors, the bargainers. They've been getting attacked just as frequently as a Muggleborn or Order member."

Remus Lupin knew that Sirius Black was fiercely loyal to anyone he cared about. He knew that the split from his family had put a strain on his relationship with his younger brother, and that the Death Eater involvement had shattered it. But somehow, Remus thought that Sirius wouldn't stand for the idea that his brother (who was actually innocent by some stretch of the imagination) could be in danger.

"He can take care of himself," he said gruffly.

Harry woke up after a moment of silence, grabbing onto Remus's already fraying robes and pulling himself into Remus's lap.

He had to smile at how much he already looked like James.

The eyes were Lily's though.

"I miss them."

Sirius looked from Harry to Remus. "Me too, Moony."

For the first time since he had left Hogwarts, Sirius felt old. He felt like he had lived a thousand years and would live a thousand more. Memories of Hogwarts, of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs seemed to be a hundred years ago, memories of friendship that was ripped to pieces by war and betrayal.

"How are we going to do this?"

Remus looked thoughtful. "Write Andromeda and Ted, and write Molly Weasley."

"Molly Weasley?"

"They have six kids, one's about Harry's age, the others are older, and I think she might be having another one soon."

"They must be busy."

"She can help us! Gideon and Fabian were mates of ours, she'll want to help. She'll know we need it. And 'Dromeda too, she's got one, she's what- six or seven now? We can't do this by ourselves, and he can't just have us for company," Remus said. "We need places for him to stay when…you know."

Sirius nodded. He had forgotten.

"When he's older, he'll need friends, and we can't home school him, but Molly home schools all of her kids and would probably do it, we could pay her, we could pay her to baby sit, with six kids and another on the way, money must be tight."

Sirius agreed silently. Friends, a network, socializing, he had never thought about this. He had never planned on having a toddler shoved in his lap. "He needs company. He needs to be happy and well-adjusted. He deserves it."

"He deserves to be less damaged than us," Remus added.

Harry giggled a little on Remus' lap, trying to steal Sirius' wand out of his pocket.

--

November 5th, 1981, Rita Skeeter acts as irritating as she is clever.

She clicked her fingernails on the wood of the young Auror's desk. "So, what can you tell me about the upcoming trials?" she asked, her legs cross and her foot jiggling. "I've been present at all of them anyway, but any extra unreleased details would be wonderful."

The Auror, a young black man with a gold earring and a deep voice, rolled his eyes. "Miss Skeeter, the information you're ferreting around to get is unreleased for a purpose, and if you want the information, you'll have to consult my Head of Department, I'm not authorized to release any information."

"Who would be your Head, young man? There have been so many switches in the past few weeks," she asked.

"Mad-Eye," he said, pointing across the room to an alarming looking gray-haired man, with a fake eye and a missing leg.

"He'll never give me what I want," she said, pouting.

"Trust me, anything you want to know will come up in the trials, Miss," the Auror said.

"I'm not going to miss them for the world…what was your name again?"

"Shacklebolt."

"Mr. Shacklebolt. Well, thanks for chatting," she said, sliding off his desk and walking down a few cubicles to interview another Auror. She wouldn't find anything, truly, all of the Aurors with any seniority were out hunting down Death Eaters. Sending potential Death Eaters a summons was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, but the Minister was of the belief that if they didn't flea from trial they were more likely to be innocent. Most Death Eaters would loudly declare their loyalty to their master when brought in.

Most innocent people walked into the courtroom and pled their case.

It would be interesting to see what the Minister's son was going to do.

Kingsley Shacklebolt could only consider the possibility he had gone bad. It could be true.

But it could be a lie, of course.

Neither would surprise him very much. But the public would be in an uproar with either decision. The public was never happy with any decision.

Kingsley sighed and continued his report.

--