Friday 28th August 1981

The Hog's Head, 20:30

"What's up?" Frank asked, walking across the room to stand next to Kingsley.

He felt like he hadn't talked to his old friend in ages. Which was probably true considering the whole thing of him being in hiding but still. It wasn't like he didn't see him. Order meetings and all that. They just hadn't talked recently. Kingsley hadn't been able to come to the last meeting because of work (oh, how Frank mossed even the midnight shift of an Auror) and Frank hadn't been to the one before that because Neville had been throwing up and, although he wasn't much help, he hadn't wanted to leave Alice alone with him.

And now actually seemed like a good time to talk because Kingsley was picking at the skin around his nails. One of those unconscious habits of his that he did whenever he was thinking deeply of something. And it wasn't something too awful, necessarily. As a Ravenclaw, Kingsley tended to think deeply of the strangest of things. The time he couldn't get his mind off how far you strangest throw certain types of feathers, came to Frank's mind.

But Kingsley didn't respond to Frank's casual greeting, instead just staring off into the distance.

"Uh, Kingsley?"

That snapped him out of whatever he needed snapped out of there but there was still this weird look on his face that Frank couldn't quite make out. Which was disconcerting, incredibly so, because Kingsley was usually incredibly easy to read.

"Going to talk some sense into him?" Sirius asked as he walked past.

"Isn't he your partner?"

That got Frank a shrug. "He is but nothing's happened at work."

"Are you sure?"

Sirius thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"Honestly, there's been nothing. Nothing weird anyway."

Frank nodded distractedly, letting Sirius leave and go over to the Marauders. This was even more worrying. If it wasn't work then it had to be personal, didn't it? He knew Kingsley's parents were muggles. Had anything happened to them?

"Talk to me Kingsley," Frank urged.

He wasn't sure what did it but it snapped Kingsley out of his thoughts.

"Oh, hi, Frank."

Frank heaved a sigh of relief. Thank Merlin.

"Kingsley."

"Hi."

"You, okay?" Frank tried again, now that he had his friend's attention.

All that got him was an extremely heavy sigh. He didn't think that he'd ever heard of such a sigh from Kingsley. Another alarming sign that things definitely were right.

"Remember Elsie?"

Frank made an incredulous noise. That was what Kingsley started off with and not what was wrong with him? But, okay, whatever got him talking, right? Right.

"Seriously? I don't think anyone could forget Elsie."

Kingsley couldn't help but briefly grin at that. What Frank said was true. Elsie's personality was rather... large. Large and unforgettable.

"I was talking with her. Well, not really talking to her because she doesn't really talk to us but she had to because of robes and she can't really-" he rambled.

Frank shook his head in fond exasperation. "Kingsley, you aren't making any sense."

He got a blank look in return.

"Deep breath and start again," Frank prompted.

"Well, I had to get my robe repaired the other week," he began, after doing as he was told and Frank snorted at that.

He had heard the whole story about Kingsley doing some impressive damage to his Auror robes and just going around work like that before he was basically forced to get them fixed. Typical Kingsley style. He probably just honestly forgot that they were torn. That was something Kingsley would do. Frank doubted that that would ever change.

"So, you went to Madam Malkins," Frank stated.

Another thing that would probably never change was the fact that Kingsley rambled and got side-tracked when he was retelling stories. Frank was just making sure that he stayed on track. They didn't have a lot of time at the end of Order meetings, after all.

"And Elsie was there."

Well, it was her family shop. You would expect to see her in there. But the look on Kingsley's face implied more had happened than simply seeing her there.

"Wait, she talked to you?"

Yes, he sounded amazed. You would be too if a former friend started talking to you again when she had previously refused to. Though, he had still considered her his friend even if she didn't anymore, it wasn't like they had all got together and said their friendship was over or anything and Merlin, he was acting like Kingsley.

"Yes. Well, kind of. I mean, it was all about the repair that I needed done. It still counts though, doesn't it?" He said hopefully.

"She kind of has to," Frank pointed out. "She, well, her business, has a contract with the Ministry. She can't not talk to you."

Kingsley's face fell.

"Oh, yeah."

Sunday 30th August 1981

Marauder Flat, 10:30

Peter frowned at himself in the mirror in his bedroom. The whole flat was quiet for a change, both Marlene and Sirius being at work and Cassie was at someone's house. He wasn't sure whose nor did he really care. Babies were okay and of course je liked his friends' babies but they were still odd creatures that Peter didn't really understand. And they were noisy. And not in a good way. So, he was glad the flat was empty and therefore quiet. He needed the time to think.

What he needed to think about, he wasn't quite sure but he felt like he needed to. Lots of thoughts swirling about his head.

He frowned at his reflection. Why didn't he look all smart and neat? How come he brushed his hair but it was still sitting weirdly?

Checking the clock again, be just shook his head. There was no time to give his hair a second wash, he was going to have to leave now.

Thankfully he was meeting up with Reginald first down by the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't think he could just turn up at Leila's place by himself. And he shouldn't even be calling it a place, he scolded himself. That was dreadfully common. It was her home. Her mansion. Those were the proper words.

"All ready?" Reginald said cheerfully as Peter started to get nervous by the apparition point.

Yea- yes, yes, I am."

Reginald gave him a weird look but didn't question him. "Do you remember where to apparate to?"

He nodded jerkily. Seriously, why was he so nervous? Leila was lovely, remember?

Oh, he did hope that he got the address right, was his last thought as he apparated. Probably not the best idea while you were trying to do so but he couldn't help his thoughts, could he?

Thankfully, all of his fears were unfounded as soon as he opened his eyes and Reginald was right in front of him. Phew.

They were directed to a very nicely laid out table by a House Elf. There was this really massive bunch of flowers as the centrepiece, the cutlery was shiny and it was all set on this gleaming white tablecloth that had this frilly, lacy edge. Which was all a bit much for just a small meal.

"My boys," Leila greeted, dressed in this lovely deep green dress that he was sure had an actual name.

Women never did use simple colours he had found. Neither did Sirius, for that matter. Not that he wanted to think about Sirius right now. Not when Leila was kissing him on the cheek and ushering them to a table.

Reginald was protesting, "I am older than you, my dear, and we are hardly boys," but he was hushed.

Peter didn't mind being called a boy by Leila. Lily did that too, in fact. The Marauders were her boys.

It was actually easier than he remembered, chatting to Leila and Reginald again. No awkwardness or anything like that. Leila's husband still didn't join them but that was pretty normal. It was the middle of the day, after all, and he was bound to be working or something like that.

He leaned back and sighed happily at his cleared plate. That had been a nice meal. A really nice meal. And the conversation hadn't slowed at all during it, like he'd originally feared. In fact, Leila was still just as easy to talk to as he'd remembered. Which was a nice surprise considering the fact that he'd thought that he'd been remembering the previous times through rose tinted glasses.

"Mistress," a particularly scrawny looking House elf interrupted. "There be a person calling the floo, Mistress."

The creature twisted one of its long ears around in its hand.

"I am so sorry," Leila said to the two of them, rosing from her seat. "I have to attend to this."

Reginald gave her a smile and nodded. "It is no problem. Peter and I are perfectly capable of entertaining ourselves for a few minutes."

Peter nodded quickly in agreement, knowing that there was no way that he could be anywhere near as eloquent.

"It should not take long to deal with a floo caller," she said optimistically as she swept past them.

"She'll just tell then that she's otherwise occupied and come right back," Reginald told him.

The House Elf was clearing the table and making biscuits and a fresh pot of tea appear. Peter helped himself to one.

Leila was already returning, you could hear her voice, and Peter straightened himself up, realising that he'd been slouching and that was the last thing you ought to do when you were in a home like this. Then he realised that hers wasn't the only voice he could hear. There was another, a male voice.

He frowned in confusion at Reginald who didn't acknowledge him. Of course, he wouldn't, Peter inwardly scolded himself. You wouldn't just talk about a newcomer when said newcomer could probably hear you. That wouldn't be polite at all.

"Everyone, I would like you to meet my husband's cousin," Leila said cheerfully.

"A cousin of some sort of yours as well, I'm sure." The man's voice joked.

Reginald stood up with an outstretched hand to greet the man and Peter copied him. Of course, he had to also turn around as his back was to the doorway.

As he did that, he immediately came face to face with someone he never thought he would see in person. And, quite frankly, never wanted to see in person of the stories from Sirius, Marlene and James were anything to go by. And they were probably watered down, at that. He knew that they weren't supposed to release any of the big details to the public.

But Peter wasn't even thinking of that right now. He couldn't think of anything. He could only feel things and what he was feeling was fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.

You see, the person who was standing in front of him, right next to a completely calm Leila, was one Evan Rosier. A Death Eater. An important one.

They were the last thing he thought before his whole world went black.

Potions Lab, 13:00

Severus held his breath as he slowly pushed the needle into the mouse. It struggled briefly in his hand before going limp. It wasn't dead, it was still conscious. It was just an anaesthetic. Just because he needed to test on animals didn't mean that he wanted to see them in pain. And this would definitely be painful for them.

Oh, and the needle was simply the most effective way to get a potion into someone's bloodstream. Especially one that didn't need to take a detour through an animal's digestive track first. It may be a muggle creation but that didn't make it any less effective. It also had the added bonus of behaving similarly to a bite, which is what he needed here.

"Hi."

Severus jumped and cursed loudly to much laughter from behind him.

"Sirius!" He hissed.

He really hated the open-door policy they all went by these days, out of necessity. It was a safety issue, after all. Unfortunately, it was much safer to apparate straight into someone's house. Which Sirius took great delight in because he deliberately tried to scare people. The prat.

"Hi, Shadow."

"I told you not to call me that."

But he knew it was like talking to a brick wall bit he would continue to try.

"Do you even pretend like Chryssie doesn't live here anymore?" Sirius asked knowingly, after taking a look around.

He had obviously spotted some of his fiancée's belongings that looked a little bit too at hoke for a casual visitor. Even though neither of them was doing anything wrong, Severus still blushed. He hated blushing.

"Did you need something?"

"Just looking for Wormy or you," Sirius said with a careless shrug. "My shift over and Marlene is tired but I'm not so I wanted to do something."

"Well, I am busy," he said, gesturing at his thankfully still unconscious animal which Sirius looked on in interest. "Actually, I'm in the middle of something, so?"

Sirius chuckled at him.

"I know better than to get in the way of you and your potions. You're at the testing stage too, right? That's what the mouse is for?"

Severus nodded hesitantly, still, after all these years, in awe that je had friends who took even a slight interest in his work.

"Cool. Let me know how it goes," Sirius said cheerfully. "Maybe have a pint in the Flat later when you're done. Either to celebrate or drown you sorrows over it?"

"Sounds good."

And it did, actually. Chryssie was on call overnight so she was spending it at the hospital. He would have been alone anyway.

"Have you seen Peter?"

Severus shook his head. "Not today."

"Huh." Sirius frowned. "He never said he was doing anything today."

"Probably with that work crowd of his," Severus offered. "He hangs around them a lot."

Sirius turned to leave, happy to have secured some company for later.

"Also, if you come across Wormtail can you tell him I was looking for him."

"Will do."

Unknown Location, 13:30

Peter was starting to get the feeling that he wasn't actually going to die like he first thought, despite being a pureblood.

Because, you see, the Death Eaters in front of him (and they were definitely Death Eaters; one of the Lestranges and Rosier) were just, well, sitting in front of him. Calmly. And not trying to curse him like James and Sirius said they would to any Light person. Huh. They were wrong. Peter never thought that that would ever happen.

And they were chatting to him. Like he was a normal person. Granted, they were trying to persuade him, him, to join the Death Eaters for some reason. But still. Calm talking. None of this intimidation nonsense he always heard about. He knew that those reports were all blown out of proportion. These were high class purebloods, after all.

"Come on," Reginald coaxed him. "You already have the same principals."

"I do?" Peter asked in confusion.

"Of course, you do. The meeting with Merton. The extracurricular activities you did to help the cause."

Peter couldn't help it, he found himself nodding along with everything his friend was saying. Because, well, he supposed it was true. Purebloods definitely did belong at the top. They knew the most. Understood how the Wizarding World was supposed to work. Had all these traditions and this culture where everything belonged just so. Other people didn't understand such things, nor did they seem to want to. Which was both a shame and ridiculous. So, yes, although he didn't like the words exactly, he did agree with them. Pureblood Supremacy. There was no hiding behind meetings and the law and things like that. It was Pureblood Supremacy, plain and simple. But that didn't mean he was completely like Rosier and... the others. Because, well...

"I don't want anyone to die," he said earnestly.

Because that was messy and complicated and sad and Peter just didn't like thinking about it.

"You don't have to be involved in that area," Lestrange said smoothly. "We don't need a lot of people doing that sort of thing, anyway."

Huh. That was a relief. He thought. And surely if they didn't need many people to do that then they didn't actually kill a lot of witches and wizards? Peter didn't really want to asl, though.

"Youve already done tasks that we do," Rosier was explaining. "Wouldn't you like that to be realised? To have some sort of control over it? And others?"

"I wouldn't have to do anything extra?" Peter said suspiciously, starting to relax slightly despite the niggling feeling at the back of his head.

"Of course not. In fact, you might actually do less."

"Less?"

Less work was always good. Well, if it still got the job done, of course. He didn't want to actually be a slacker.

"But I don't like-" he made a vague cutting motion with his hand.

Death was so unnecessary and gruesome in his opinion. Actually, it made him feel a bit sick.

"Death?" Rosier said quite bluntly, making him wince.

Peter nodded minutely as Lestrange gave him this creepy sort of smile that maybe he thought was reassuring but it really wasn't.

"Like Rab here said before, you don't need to be involved in that sort of thing."

"So, what do you say?" Rosier asked impatiently.

"You'll have to excuse them," Reginald said apologetically. "They are the type that need to get to the point. I'm sure you understand that they can't simply have people walking about thinking too much about this. They would already know too much without the safety of having the vow in place."

There was a vow involved? This was serious business.

"And if I say no?"

Rosier and Lestrange looked at each other before turning their unnerving stares back on him.

"There are ways to make you forget," Rosier said, leaning forwards as he spoke.

Peter bit his lip.