June 26, 1972
"I'm bored…." James moaned from his spot on the couch. Dorea Potter looked up and sighed as she looked at her son. His eyes were half closed as he laid on the couch upside down.
"Get up and sit properly James. You'll get dizzy if you stay like that for too long." she chided her son. He groaned before sitting down upright. "Why don't you fly on your broom?" she questioned her son. James frowned.
"That's boring. It would be so much more fun if Sirius were here." James said before flopping back onto the couch. "I'm bored…."
"Why don't you invite your friend's over?" James sighed.
"Peter can't for some unknown reason, Remus has a sick relative he needs to visit and take care of, and Sirius's mother has locked him up and probably killed him." James counted off his fingers.
"Walburga?" Dorea questioned thinking about the formidable woman. "She was always headstrong and stubborn, I wonder what happened to make her… change…" she mused aloud.
"Make her go insane you mean?" James asked.
"Tell me what your friends are like." Dorea changed the subject and humoured her son even though she'd heard stories about each of her son's new friends many times over.
"I've told you a million times." James pointed out.
"Then what would you like to do?" Dorea asked her son patiently.
"I don't know."
"Then you've no reason to complain young man."
"But mom…." James whined.
"Don't you have homework to do?"
"I finished it." James answered proudly.
"Then why don't we play a game of chess?"
"Sure!" James jumped up and ran. "I'll get the chess board!"
"No running through the house…" Dorea trailed off before shaking her head. And so, the two sat on the floor, leaning against the couch and played chess.
"Checkmate." James smirked. Dorea furrowed her eyebrows before moving her king away.
"I think not." she answered.
"Not fair!" James studied the board leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. The heard the door open. "Dad!" James leaped up and grabbed his father's hand. "Help me beat mom!"
"James let you father at least take off his shoes." Dorea scolded as her husband smiled at his son who was sheepishly looking at the floor.
"Sorry, but can you help me! Please!" Charlus allowed himself to be dragged over to the chess board on the floor. He looked at the board as his son explained what had just occurred. "We have to beat mom." James said stubbornly.
"Please." Dorea flipped her hair. "No one can beat me." Charlus looked up and grinned, his eyes glinting.
"I take that as a challenge." He stated. "Let's reset the board though. She won this game." He pointed to the board.
James grinned and did as his father bid. "White or Black mom?" He asked mom. She shrugged. "Dad?"
"Doesn't matter to me. Pick one son. Either way, I'll beat your old mom." Charlus grinned as Dorea aimed a punch at his shoulder.
"As if." Dorea crossed her arms and stared at her pieces.
"Okay, Dad and I pick white, we'll move first." James said as he made the first move.
"Do you not feel well enough to eat?" Hope Lupin asked as she looked at her son. The purple bruises under his eyes starkly contrasted his pale face. He smiled and shook his head.
"I'm fine." It's the moon Remus thought as he played with his greens, trying to restrain the animalistic instincts. The wolf inside him was always stronger at the moon and therefore harder to control.
"When you're finished, call me. We'll go to the basement, and I'll secure everything." Lyall ordered his son sternly before he got up. "Dinner was wonderful dear." He added to Hope before he stood. Remus nodded, staring at his food. Hope frowned at her husband's behavior as he left the room. She stood and pulled her chair closer to her son's before turning his face towards her. Her eyes crinkled with worry.
"You're sure you're okay?" she questioned. Remus nodded.
"It's just the moon mom." Like always he thought, restraining a defeated sigh.
"Well, if that's the case. Can you keep me company as I wash the dishes? Maybe you can show me some of those drawing you were working on this afternoon" Hope suggested with a smile.
"Okay." Remus acquiesced as he stood up painfully slowly, wincing slightly before straightening and going up stairs. Pausing at the top, Remus leaned against the wall, trying to ignore the persistent ache that filled his body. Quietly, he tiptoed past his father's work room and grabbed his sketchbook before slowly making his way back downstairs. In the kitchen, he set the book on the counter. "I'm going to call dad and go into the basement."
"Okay." Hope said with a smile before she pulled her son into a hug. "By the way, what would you like for breakfast? I'm debating between french toast with bacon or pancakes with sausages."
"Anything's fine. I'm going to get dad." Remus turned and painstakingly made his way upstairs. He gently knocked on the closed door that lead to his father's office. "Dad?" he called, leaning against the door frame.
Lyall did not give any verbal response as he gave a curt nod. He is ignoring me Remus thought as he turned away and headed down to the airport. The cage, his own hell, waited for him. The bars were made of iron and there was an electric mesh that would zap him…no the wolf if it tried to escape. He tepidly approached the cage and shivered as he disposed of his clothes. The cage floor was cold, and he hugged himself close to keep the warmth. Remus almost wished he was back at Hogwarts. Even though he was risking the lives of the students and the villagers, the wolf was happier at the Shrieking Shack with place to run around.
"I'm locking the cage. I'll be down tomorrow." Lyall said interrupting his thoughts.
Remus gave a nod as he quietly muttered, "Good night, dad."
***Add a reference to Dante's inferno
Pettigrew's summer was as expected seemingly plain. His mother was working most of the time, so he was left to dwindling away time in the dusty antiques shop. At least that was what he had done until one day he had decided, he had enough. It was not a special day or something but just one of those when an individual decides to enact change in their lives. So, Peter set out of the shop on a hunt to find something to occupy his time.
So, Peter had wandered the streets, walking into bakeries, the broom shop, the ice-cream parlour. He did not purchase anything but rather just window shopped and observed the customers, the shopkeepers and their varied relationships. On the third day of his exploration time, Peter decided to find some of his Gryffindor courage and venture into the muggle side of town. It was there that Peter had found his first job. It was honestly a complete accident…
Peter, honestly had always found muggles fascinating. His dead father was a muggle and every time he was in the muggle world, Peter imagined himself as closer to his father. Initially, he had stuck to the same places as he did in the wizarding world: restaurants, shops, the public square. As he tried to make his way back to the wizarding side of town, Peter took a wrong turn and ended up in a dark alley he didn't recognize.
"Hey, boy, where are you dandling to without your mother?" a stranger with a scruffy beard and light brown hair tinged with grey shouted.
"Uhh…sorry sir. I am sort of lost. Could you please redirect me to Hotsworth Street?" Peter asked nervously.
"Come in boy." the stranger invited. Peter did not move but fear was evident in his eyes. The man agilely lunged forward and caught Peter's arm in a tight grip. Peter struggled and yelled futilely as the man dragged him inside. Peter was surprised to notice the shop held moving photos, crystal balls and other wizarding world artefacts. "Didn't they teach you to not put that magic stick in your back pocket?" the man asked. He smirked as Peter quickly grabbed his wand.
"I…I can hurt…you" Peter stutteringly threatened.
The man laughed in response. "Ahh…the confidence of childhood. I am not here to hurt you, boy. I come from a family of wizards too and well, I am a squib. So I just put up this little "magic" shop here and make some little money to pay the bills. This part of town is dangerous…I will accompany you back to Hotsworth."
"Oh…thanks?" Peter commented lamely.
"So what's your name, boy?" the man asked conversationally as he put on his coat. Peter did not respond. "Ok, I see your parents taught you well. My name is Morgan." The man paused waiting for him to respond.
"P…Patrick and I don't have a father." Peter responded.
The man gave a solemn nod, "That must be difficult for your family. Why don't you give me a hand around the shop and I can spare some change on you? It won't be much, but it's something and I'll have someone to talk to."
Once again, Peter did not respond and they walked the rest of the way till Hotsworth in silence.
"Well, this is Hotsworth. And the offer stands…feel free to drop by my shop whenever. I'll pay by the hour. Bye." Morgan said as Peter ran toward the magical barrier.
Peter was not sure what possessed him to return to Morgan's shop…maybe it was just a preferable option to death from pure boredom. So, Peter spent most of his days in the shop with Morgan. His mother never really questioned where he went if he was back before supper and was ready to help her in the kitchen. Peter really liked Morgan – sometimes he imagined this Morgan was his dad. Summer suddenly had more meaning to Peter and he found himself looking forward to the time he spent with Morgan.