A/N: Hey, thanks for the reviews! Wow, that was a LOT… Thank you to the anonymous reviewers, too: momoisdabest, S.S., Michella, Taylor, and aerialsdeath. I don't really have anything to say to them except "Thanks for the review!!!"… Yeah. They're reaaallly inspiring… here's the update! It's a long one. Oh, and this story will have OCs (other characters—characters that I made up). If you don't like OCs in a story, then too bad. IMPORTANT!!! Anastasia Berkley, Alexandra Berkley, and all the other OCs mentioned belong to my little sister, Clara. NOT ME. I'm using the characters from her Marauders' first year story. Check it out.
Disclaimer: My name is Kimberly Marianna Lavorgna. The author of Harry Potter is J. K. Rowling. Translation: I don't own Harry Potter.
Returning to Life: Chapter Five by Morsmordre
Anastasia Berkley was not a happy woman. All of her unhappiness had started about fourteen years ago, when her best friend and her best friend's husband had been killed, and her own fiancé being the reason said best friend was dead—he (said fiancé) had been thrown in jail.
To sum it all up, after that Halloween night fourteen years ago, she had never been truly happy. At least, not really.
Today was no exception. Being a teacher of bratty Muggle children was so dull. She drummed her fingers on her desktop, waiting for the third grade American children to come in and begin whining about who-knows-what.
"Anastasia!"
She turned and glanced up at the door. The vice principal of this elementary school in North Carolina was here in her classroom. His name was Frederick Benson.
"Hello Frederick," she greeted him pleasantly—or as pleasantly as one could greet a person when one wasn't feeling well: emotionally, not physically.
Frederick nodded his head at the greeting. "There is someone here to see you," he stated.
Anastasia arched one dark eyebrow. "Oh, really?" she asked.
"Yes, really. Come along now."
Anastasia obliged, draping her coat across her chair "The students will be here soon," she reminded him.
"Mrs. Connolly will be here to take your place until you get back," Frederick answered evasively.
"What do you mean?" Anastasia frowned. "I'm only going to be at your office for a short time… aren't I?"
"This man is British too," Frederick commented.
Anastasia's insides froze. She was a pureblood, and she didn't know any British Muggles. It had to be someone from the wizarding world.
"Who is it?" she asked stiffly.
"He had some long, fancy name, and is rather old." Frederick chuckled to himself and pointed to the door of his office, before Anastasia could protest that she didn't want to see this man.
"Ah, Miss Berkley, I haven't seen you in a long time," came an all-too-familiar voice.
Dammit, Dumbledore! Why the hell did you have to come and find me? I was doing perfectly well in the Muggle world by myself, thank you very much! she mentally screamed at him. But she couldn't be rude. Not now, anyway.
"Albus," she returned, inclining her head slightly. "Why are you here?"
"Could I speak to Miss Berkley privately, please?" Dumbledore asked Frederick, ignoring Anastasia's question.
"Of course. I'll be in my office if you need me." Frederick left the room, giving Anastasia a backward glance.
"Why are you here?" Anastasia repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. "You didn't answer my question."
"You are needed to join the Order of the Phoenix again."
Anastasia gave a start. She had expected her former headmaster to answer with some riddle or something, not to be so straightforward. But she quickly regained her composure and shot back, "I thought the Dark Lord was dead." She didn't want to say his name, but calling him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was just plain ridiculous. Therefore, she settled for "the Dark Lord," even if people would suspect that she was a Death Eater.
"He was never dead," Dumbledore sighed. "His spirit was simply torn from his body, and now he was resurrected."
"Oh yeah, real simple," Anastasia agreed sarcastically. "And what does this have to do with me?"
"You were—" Dumbledore began, but Anastasia cut him off with a single word. "No."
"You—" Dumbledore started again, but Anastasia interrupted yet again.
"I said no, Albus," she proclaimed, vigorously shaking her head. "I'm living in the Muggle world now. I'm not going back. I'm staying right where I am, and I never want to see or hear from you people again. Ever."
Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Berkley—"
"Don't. I don't want to hear it. Now if you'll excuse me, Albus, I have a class to teach."
Anastasia turned to leave the room, but before she could do so, Dumbledore asked, "What about Harry?"
Anastasia paused, her mind, for the first time in fourteen years, rewinding to Lily and James Potter's son, Harry.
"Is he going to Hogwarts?" slipped out of her mouth.
Dumbledore smiled. Don't think you've won me over yet, you old fool. And you never will. "Yes, he is. He will be starting his fifth year."
"Lovely. Now I'm leaving." Anastasia gave him her best glare and stalked to the door of the office, but it wouldn't budge. She tugged harder. Nothing.
She turned around and pinned Dumbledore with an icy look. "Let me out."
Dumbledore smiled again. "No." He reached into the pockets of his robes and rummaged around for something, before coming up with a bag. "Lemon drop?" he offered jovially.
It was just like him to offer her a lemon drop in a situation like this. She suddenly wanted to cry. "No thanks."
Dumbledore nodded and put the bag away. "You do remember what happened fourteen years ago, do you not?" he asked, popping a lemon drop of his own into his mouth.
Anastasia riveted her gaze onto the portrait of all the staff at Maple Leaf Elementary School hanging on the wall in a silver frame, instead of looking at Dumbledore. "Unfortunately."
"And I'm sure you remember what happened to Sirius Black."
The picture frame was beginning to blur around the edges. She gripped her knuckles so tightly, they turned white. "I don't want to talk about him."
"Well, he is actually innocent, blamed for the crimes caused by Peter Pettigrew," Dumbledore continued, as if he hadn't heard her.
"WHAT?!"
Frederick came out of his office, looking alarmed. "I couldn't but help hear your outburst, Anastasia," he began. "Is everything all right?"
"Fine." Anastasia didn't bother to look at either of them. Her brain was still trying to process this new information.
"All right. Like I said, I'll be in my office if you need me." Frederick left the room again.
"Albus." Anastasia pinned Dumbledore with one of her infamous explain-now glares. "What do you mean, he is innocent?"
Dumbledore smiled, that blasted, too-familiar twinkle in his blue eyes. Anastasia could have sworn that he was enjoying this much more than he should. "I will tell you if you will come with me and join the Order of the Phoenix again," he responded.
Anastasia's left eye twitched—a sure sign that she was beginning to lose her temper. "Bribing me now, are you?"
Dumbledore smiled. It was an infuriatingly patient smile. "Well, I have been called a manipulative old bastard from time to time."
Anastasia was so startled at the headmaster's use of the word "bastard" that before she knew what she was doing, her mouth opened and formed the words "Let me get my things."
She mentally smacked herself on the head. Repeatedly.
"I'll be waiting." Dumbledore smiled again, his eyes still twinkling.
Alexandra Berkley had just settled down with her laptop, her glasses on, when the doorbell rang.
Who could it be? Alexandra had no idea who would be coming to her house. Ever since she had defied the Death Eaters (a bit too late—after she had taken the Dark Mark), she had gone into hiding. It was ironic, really, because just a few days after, the Dark Lord's power broke and he disappeared, because of Harry Potter.
Harry Potter. She thought about him as she stood up and headed towards the front door of the small apartment she lived in, in New York City of America. He was the son of her twin sister's best friend, and he had been the one to vanquish the Dark Lord.
She had never really believed the Dark Lord had been vanquished. He definitely wasn't human enough to die, if the way he tortured and killed Muggles, Muggleborns, half-bloods, and children was anything to go by.
She was so lost in thought about Voldemort and Harry Potter that the doorbell rang again (since she was taking so long to answer) and startled her. She tripped over her own two feet, and cursing quietly to herself, she went and opened the door.
Nothing could have prepared her for what—or rather, whom—she saw standing in her doorway. Albus Dumbledore, who had been the headmaster of Hogwarts when she attended the school, and—this part really shocked her—her sister, Anastasia Berkley.
"You!" Alexandra and Anastasia both gasped at the exact same time.
"What is she doing here?" Alexandra demanded. "And what are you doing here?"
At the exact same time, Anastasia exclaimed, "This is whom you wanted to pick up to Order headquarters?"
"What do you mean, Order headquarters? Aren't I a Death Eater to you?" Alexandra snapped, whipping off her glasses and tucking them into the back pocket of her jeans.
"Well, are you just going to stand there or invite us in?" Anastasia retorted.
Alexandra's left eye twitched—it was a thing that happened whenever she got angry. That was probably the only thing she had in common with her sister, except for the fact that they were both Berkleys and they had fiery tempers.
For example,
Anastasia: dark hair, Alexandra: light hair.
Anastasia: Gryffindor, Alexandra: Ravenclaw.
Anastasia: ex-Order of the Phoenix member, Alexandra: ex-Death Eater.
Anastasia: giggly (at least during her Hogwarts years), Alexandra: sharp, sarcastic, and a bit snobbish sometimes.
…
I think you get the point.
Anyway.
Alexandra finally stepped back, after a moment of contemplation, and turned on her heel and swept back into her living room, her long blond mane of hair flying behind her.
She stalked into the kitchen and brewed a pot of tea; then she poured it into two cups and went back into the living room to greet her guests. "Tea?" she offered them.
Alexandra expected her sister to make some snarky comment about how she had probably poisoned it or something, but to her great surprise, she didn't.
"Thank you, Miss Berkley," Dumbledore said, taking a sip of his tea. "Lemon drop?"
Alexandra wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, but she didn't. "No thank you," she responded. "So why are you here? And how did you find me?"
(Enter an incredibly long explanation because I'm too lazy to type one, including these facts:
After she agreed to go with Dumbledore, Anastasia told Frederick Benson that she would be gone for a while, and then Dumbledore explained the whole thing about Sirius, and James coming back to life.
Dumbledore communicated with Sirius and confirmed that after Alexandra defied the Dark Lord, she met up with Sirius and spilled the whole thing to him, and he believed her, which is why Dumbledore and Anastasia knew that Alexandra had renounced her Death Eater ways.
Sirius was innocent; Peter Pettigrew was the one who committed those crimes, James had never been dead after all, etc.
Voldemort was recently resurrected, and they were needed to join the Order of the Phoenix.
Anything else that I might have missed because I forgot it for the moment.)
After Dumbledore finally stopped speaking, he looked at Alexandra and opened his mouth to ask a question, but Anastasia beat him to it. "Are you in?" she demanded.
Alexandra thought about this a moment. She was living in the Muggle word, and the only reason she had enough Muggle money was because she had kept her wand and conjured some up every month, and used it in her Muggle bank account. She had plenty of Muggle appliances—pretty ironic for a prejudiced pureblood. But there was no doubt what she would choose: she wanted to prove herself, to prove the fact that she wasn't just a Death Eater—after all, she had renounced the half-blood bastard also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. There really was no point in even thinking about it.
"Yes, I'm in."
It had been a few days since Harry had been attacked by the dementors, James reflected, as he walked down the hall at Grimmauld Place. The official Order meeting about James's return was tonight, as well as discussions about how to "rescue" Harry from Number Four, Privet Drive.
"Hi, James."
James looked up, startled from his revelations by Remus, who was watching him with an amused look on his face.
"A lot on your mind?" Remus correctly guessed.
James sighed and nodded. "Right in one."
"What do you want to know?"
Someday, James vowed to himself, Remus's ability to read people so well would not come in handy.
Or not. Oh, right. He was a werewolf, and he had the ability to read people's emotions and feelings very easily. Well, scratch that, then.
"Well, now I know what happened to us," James began, meaning the Marauders. "But what about Lily's friends?" It hurt him to say her name. He still missed her. In fact the only reason he wasn't breaking down crying all the time or anything like that was probably the knowledge that Harry was alive and well, and a teenager to boot.
"Well, you know Maggie and Benjamin were killed in Death Eater attacks, and Kiki was Kissed by a dementor," Remus started awkwardly.
James nodded, flinching slightly. He didn't like thinking about that.
Remus seemed to agree. "Right, well… after Voldemort was temporarily defeated at Godric's Hollow that night, some of Voldemort's most loyal followers went to hunt for him, because they thought that maybe he really wasn't dead. Some Death Eaters captured Alice and Frank Longbottom, because they thought they knew where they were."
James did not like the sound of where this was going. "And…?" he asked, dreading the answer.
Remus sighed. "I guess I'll just be blunt and say it. Bellatrix Lestrange—Sirius's cousin—tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. They're in the mental ward at St. Mungo's right now."
James couldn't believe it. Even though Frank had been one year older than them, he had been good friends with the Marauders. And Alice had been one of Lily's best friends, too!
James let out an infuriated yell and smashed his fist on the door of one of the empty rooms at headquarters. He immediately wished he hadn't done that, because it had hurt. A lot.
Remus waited patiently until James was done throwing his temper tantrum.
"Go on," James said sulkily. He would have let out his anger some more, if it weren't for the fact that he was waiting to find out what had happened to Anastasia Berkley, another one of Lily's best friends.
Lily. It hurt to think about her. James shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Well, a few days after the attack on Godric's Hollow, and the day after they found Frank and Alice"—here Remus grimaced slightly—"I went to see Anastasia, but she was packing up. She said everyone she loved, or even remotely liked, was dead, and she was giving up on magic and moving to the Muggle world. She wouldn't say where. Then she slammed the door in my face."
"Jeez," James muttered. That didn't sound like Anna. "What about her twin sister?"
Remus filled him in on Alexandra Berkley's situation—the whole renouncing the Death Eaters, seeing Sirius just before the attack at Godric's Hollow to warn him that Voldemort knew where the Potters were, and then going off into hiding—all of it. (I'm just too lazy to type a full explanation in Remus's exact words. Besides, there's an Order meeting coming up soon, and this chapter is already pretty long…At least, in my standards it is. Long, I mean.)
James opened his mouth to voice his opinion on the whole situation with Lily's friends and Alexandra Berkley when Sirius's voice floated in from the entrance hall. "Oy! Prongs! Dumbledore's here!" Sirius called from down the hall. "He's coming—"
He was cut off by a crash and the air was filled with shrieks and yells from Sirius's dear old mum's (sarcasm, people, sarcasm: get used to it) portrait.
"—FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS! HOW DARE YOU SET FOOT IN THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK, BELONGING TO MY RESPECTABLE PUREBLOOD ANCESTORS! GET OUT!—"
James rushed towards the entrance hall of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to help Sirius with the stupid, rather loud and unattractive portrait.
"YOU! YOU! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU HERE AGAIN! YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE! GET OUT!"
As Dumbledore and the two newcomers to Order headquarters stared in shock, Sirius tugged on the curtains, trying to shut out the screaming portrait.
"Damn it, don't just stand there!" Sirius snarled, when James gaped at him. "Will you come over here and try to help me shut up this stupid old hag?"
Together, the two men managed to shut the curtains on the angry portrait.
"Hi, Dumbledore—er, Albus. Sorry about that," Sirius apologized, a bit sheepishly. "The Order meeting's in there; it's about to start."
"Of course, Sirius," Dumbledore agreed, inclining his head. "I'd also like you to meet some old acquaintances…" He gestured toward the two women behind him.
Sirius looked at them, raising an eyebrow. "Er…"
Then he seemed to realize just who exactly they were.
"…hi?" he offered, looking at them almost fearfully.
James recognized them now, too. He hadn't seen them since fourteen years ago—although to him, it didn't seem that long. They were older now, but it was still obvious who they were.
"Anastasia and Alexandra Berkley?" he gasped.
It would be a long night.
(A/N: Ew, not in that way, you pervert!)
"The Order meeting is about to begin," Dumbledore declared.
After meeting each other again after fourteen years, the remaining Marauders (Peter didn't count) and the Berkley twins went over some things and reacquainted themselves with each other. It was still a bit awkward between Sirius and Anastasia—after all, they had been engaged before Sirius had been chucked in Azkaban. They were now getting along like… well, say, like Moody and Kingsley. Acquaintances and allies, but not best friends or anything.
Now Dumbledore was starting the Order meeting. Moody had been informed of James's supposed return from the dead. (Needless to say, he had been very suspicious. Of course, being locked in your own compartment trunk for over half a year could do that to a person. Not that James knew of this tidbit of information…yet.) Now James was standing under Moody's borrowed Invisibility Cloak and watching the Order meeting, waiting for the right time to come out.
"I have a matter of great importance to tell you," Dumbledore began the meeting.
"Is it good news?" called out a pink-and-spiky-haired witch who was wearing a Weird Sisters T-shirt. She looked oddly familiar, for some reason.
"Very," Dumbledore answered, smiling. "I will be blunt and say it—James Potter has returned to life."
There was a stunned silence, finally to be broken by a greasy-haired man who also looked oddly familiar.
"You're not serious!" he exclaimed.
"Of course he's not, I'm Sirius!" Sirius declared immediately.
The Order groaned, obviously used to the pun. James stifled a snicker.
"Shut up, Black," the greasy-haired man snarled.
"I am not joking, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "James was never subjected to the Killing Curse…"
As Dumbledore explained to the assembled Order about the Freezing Charm, James found his thoughts wandering. Severus? He meant Snape! SNAPE??? What is SNAPE doing in the Order?
Before James could further ponder this thought, Dumbledore proclaimed, "James, you can take off the Invisibility Cloak."
James gave a start and then yanked the silvery material off his head.
There was another stunned silence.
Then, the pink-haired witch jumped up and walked over to him, a bright smile on his face. "Hi! I'm Tonks—I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Sirius's cousin Andromeda's daughter, Nymphadora. Call me Tonks, though!"
James took her hand, briefly remembering a small seven-year-old he had seen once when visiting Sirius's cousin Andromeda's house.
"I kind of remember you," James began, but he was cut off when the rest of the Order began clambering to greet him.
"James! I can't believe it's really you!" Hestia Jones cried.
"James Potter! What an honor—I remember you!" exclaimed a short man whom James briefly recognized as Dedalus Diggle.
"Potter." It was Snape, looking as if Christmas had been cancelled (but Snape probably didn't even celebrate Christmas, so this wasn't really even saying anything—besides, Snape probably hated cheery people and couples snogging under mistletoe).
"Hi Snapey. Just as greasy and oily as ever, I see," James replied smoothly. "How are you?"
Snape let out a sort of snarl before turning back to his seat.
"Now James," Dumbledore chided gently.
James just shrugged.
After everyone had introduced themselves or become reunited with the father of the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore began speaking again.
"Now, Privet Drive is no longer safe for Harry," he started. "Therefore, we have to send out some people to take him and bring him back to headquarters."
"Of course, only the best for the Golden Boy," Snape sneered.
James glared at him.
Dumbledore remained deaf to Snape's comment. "We need at least ten people—sort of a guard—to retrieve Harry for Privet Drive…"
The rest of the Order meeting was spent deciding who would be in the guard, what their plan was, how they would get Harry here at headquarters (Tonks suggested brooms, which was the final plan), etc.
James sighed as everyone finally left late at night, wrapping up the meeting. He couldn't go to retrieve his son because Harry didn't know he was alive yet, and he wasn't supposed to be out of headquarters until he was officially declared alive again by the Ministry. Hopefully, he would get to meet Harry soon. He was getting tired of waiting, for Harry and for answers.
A/N: Oh. My. God. Is that an update? Why yes it is!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!! I got so many reviews last time that fifteen reviews should NOT be a problem. There are 48 people with this story on their alerts list anyway, or something like that (the last time I checked the number was last week). So PLEASE REVIEW!!! I need inspiration!
-Morsmordre, AKA Kim