I certainly have no rights to Harry Potter, but this won't stop me writing this story. However, you probably already know this. As it is my specialty, and as in my other big stories, this shows how things go if something went different right at the beginning. Please note that I'm not a fan of bashing and also don't expect the pairings to differ from canon. However, the path to them sertainly will be quite different. I also want to try and subvert certain plots and things that became common in the fandom over the years.
For now, the story will update every second Saturday, until I say otherwise.
I'll try to answer reviews from now on, since I do like the feedback for improvement.
I don't yet have a TvTropes page for this story, but plan for one. However, it would be a pleasant surprise if someone does it first.
Chapter 3: Little Whinging's Finest
The postman had just left and Sirius was going through the day's mail after closing the front door. Putting his motorcycle magazine aside - he still couldn't believe how he hadn't found something like that before - he put Remus' mail onto the table and then looked through his own.
"Invoice, invoice... Oh!" Sirius stopped when seeing the coat of arms of Surrey on the envelope. "Oh, finally it's here!"
"What is here?" Remus asked, walking down the stairs, having stopped his writing work after hearing the doorbell.
"The reply if I'm in the police training, or not!" Sirius showed him the envelope, before again looking a the seal on it. "I'm kind of afraid to open it."
"Well, then don't stare at the envelope like that, Padfoot. Finally open it and see if you are in, or not," Remus told his friend.
"It's almost like you are more excited about this than me," Sirius observed.
Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't forget that without me, you would never have managed to get the needed educational level in literally record time. I suffered just as much as you through that."
Now Sirius grimaced. "Don't remind me. In retrospect, this was way worse than school could have ever been. It was like taking our NEWTs, only every day for almost seven whole months."
If anything, Sirius was understating how grueling the past seven months truly had been for him and for Remus. In retrospect, it had been sheer insanity to try and pack several years of school education into a little more than half a year, but Sirius' pride and his sheer determination once he'd set himself a goal somehow managed to help Sirius to pull through. Remus probably at the end was running on pure loyalty to his friend, as his own plans suffered due to lack of time.
What was I thinking when agreeing to it? went through Remus' head.
Perhaps the countless cups of coffee had helped as well. Those months blurred in their memories into man-high stacks of books, papers everywhere and countless broken pencils. Not to speak of nerves getting ready to snap. The teacher had looked at Sirius as if he was insane when he had put in his application for the final exam during the summer, which had turned into outright bafflement when the end result were good grades. Not top grades, but good ones. These official grades meant, Sirius finally was able to enter the non-magical job market.
Both of them knew, they would be unable to go through such a colossal effort again.
Of course his private life had suffered tremendously during that time, as he'd done little more than going through all of the material. He'd even seen Harry only occasionally, which he felt guilty about and still was making up for, now that that ordeal was finally in the past.
Naturally, that had not been the end of the effort, since he then had to go through the application and testing process before he would be actually considered for the police training program. While that had been way less grueling, it had made him more nervous. Now he would see the end result of all his efforts.
Sirius finally opened the envelope and started to read the letter.
"Well, what does it say?" Remus asked, since Sirius' expression stayed unreadable. "Please tell me I didn't sacrifice my own education for nothing."
Sirius lowered the letter, giving his friend a big smile. "Well... I'm in! They said my training officially starts in September!"
Finally, Remus relaxed. While he felt happy for his friend, it also meant he could finally go forward with his own plans without having to deal with a depressed Sirius. "Thank all goodness all this pain did pay off in the end! You know that you have to tell Veronica?"
"She would pull my ears off if I try to hide this from her." Sirius remembered the one time he'd tried to lie to her concerning something rather trivial. That woman had the ability to sense when he was dishonest with her, which Sirius found a bit frightening.
"That one time was entirely your own fault," Remus reminded him.
Leaving the house and walking out into a hot summer day, they noticed Petunia again spying on them from behind the curtains. That had become a regular thing and Petunia clearly still thought they were oblivious of it. It was quite likely that while Petunia was too afraid to do anything against them, she had become paranoid enough to spy on them at every opportunity 'to make sure'. It was quite annoying by now.
Remus sighed when seeing that behavior of their neighbor. "Doesn't she ever get tired of watching our every step? I mean, she must have better things to do with her time, right?"
"To her, we are a threat to their way of life," Sirius snorted, paying no attention to Petunia's clumsy attempt at spying on them. "Reminds me of some pure-bloods and their constant fear of losing their social status. Well, since they are unable to do anything against us, she feels the need to always know what we are doing. Paranoid woman."
"Still, it's becoming annoying," Remus complained, seeing how Petunia backed away from the curtains in fear she could be discovered.
Paying Petunia's spying no further mind, they left.
Walking to the Evans house, they could hear laughter coming from its garden and thus took the small wooden gate to the garden, where they found Veronica watching Harry, who was wearing cute swimming trunks, being busy with enjoying the fine water spray from the garden hose Veronica was holding. On such a hot day, this had to be heaven for the little boy.
"Looks like someone got the right idea in this hot day," Sirius laughed.
That was when Harry noticed them. "Unca Padfoot, Unca Moony!"
"Oh, hold it, soldier! No hugging us while the water is running off you!" Remus stopped the little boy, before he could do so.
"Yes, young man, I need to get you dry first," Veronica reminded the young boy, having put the hose away, now approaching with a towel. "He really likes that on such a hot day."
"Oh, I can imagine," Sirius said, looking in amusement how Harry giggled while being toweled dry by Veronica. "You are really good for him and will be a wonderful mother... the total opposite of my own mother."
"Is that how you charm women?" Veronica joked, deciding not commenting on Sirius' horrible family would be better.
"No, that was a nice compliment from him," Remus commented from the side. "Actual attempts at charming women usually resulted in Sirius either getting slapped or hexed, often both."
"Oh no, I did date several girls in school I got all the way with, it just wasn't meant to be anything permanent by both sides. So don't pull that card," Sirius complained.
"Ahem." They stopped when seeing that Veronica clearly didn't want that kind of discussion in front of Harry, even though he wouldn't understand any of it due to his young age. "Now, as happy as I am to see you guys, is there any specific reason for your visit in the middle of the day?"
"Yes, I made it!" Sirius told her with no further delay.
Veronica needed a few moments before she understood what Sirius had just said. "Really, you got into police training? Oh, that insane thing you did paid off at the end!"
"Insane? Yes. Especially considering I went along with it and put all my plans on hold. Some people just don't have any patience..." Remus again gave Sirius a telling look.
Why do I have the feeling I will hear that for some time? In retrospect, his rush to get an accepted school degree had been kind of insane and he understood Remus' annoyance.
"As happy as I am for you, you know what I told you countless times, but I think one more time won't hurt. Roping your friend into it had not been especially nice," Veronica told Sirius, though she didn't look angry at all.
"See, not only I thought that," Remus told Sirius, unable to resist the temptation.
"Well, considering you went along with it to the end..." Veronica knew both men understood that she wasn't assigning blame, just reminding them they made this foolish decision together. "Oh, but enough of that! We do have to celebrate this once Thomas is home! That was your dream and you are now so close to fulfilling it."
Little Harry didn't know what exactly was going on, but if they were happy, he surely was as was. "Auntie Verni happy! Auntie Verni happy!"
o
The meeting would not have been out of place for the town hall of a middle-sized city, or the board meeting of a bigger company. It was a perfectly ordinary conference room, the afternoon sun shining through the big windows, and at the long table sat a dozen men and women in suits, who were going through many papers, giving their reports to the head table, where several men sat.
"We are slowly making progress penetrating deeper. It's very slow work, however. After all, most of our agents were recruited well after they left in disappointment. Expanding our net onto the other side with those who never left will take significantly more time," one of the men reported.
"That was to be expected, considering past progress.," came from the head table. "What about our special units?"
"Considering the small pool we have to use, it's still not up to our standards. Using magic outside of what they think is the only way to use it in battle is also difficult to implement," a woman reported.
"Hm, is it the same with our allied countries?" one man at the head table asked.
One man looked through his papers. "More or less. They at times have more difficulties than we do, considering how set in their ways magical society in Britain is, compared to other countries. The more liberal countries have more recruiting difficulties. It's especially difficult in Germany."
"We'll review this during the international meeting. Now, we all have read the report about this earmarked person we spoke of in the previous meeting. Your thoughts now?"
"Honestly, it came a bit as a surprise that he was applying to enter the police force of all things. However, considering that he earned his education fair and square, we are giving him the benefit of the doubt. Right now there is nothing to hint that he doesn't want to honestly become an officer of the law. If anything, this can only be to our advantage."
There was general agreement to this conclusion.
...Hogwarts, December 6th 1982...
In past years, Potions class at Hogwarts had been a favorite amongst students, since Professor Slughorn, besides knowing what he was doing, also knew how to make the class interesting and being a fair grader. However, since the start of the new school year and Slughorn's retirement, a new opinion about Potions had formed within the students.
Now Potions class was a kind of torture.
Professor Snape was a petty perfectionist, who seemingly felt that everyone should be a genius like him at potions, and thus didn't explain anything, apart from writing instructions on the blackboard at the start. And once something inevitably went wrong due to lack of direction, he would show his nasty side. Not to speak of his blatant favoritism towards Slytherin, which had already gotten him the enmity of the students from the other three houses.
However, not only the students felt that Potions class was a chore. Snape himself also wasn't thrilled having to teach it in its current form.
Severus Snape was frustrated while watching the first-year students from Gryffindor and Slytherin stir their potions. To him, having to teach these little brats was a punishment in itself.
At least this bunch of little snots is learning fast not to test my patience, he thought. Only too bad that this new year of Slytherins is not promising at all with potions.
While him being frustrated was nothing new, the source of his frustration no longer was of a personal nature, and instead connected to his new job. He'd started teaching at Hogwarts starting with this school year, replacing Horace Slughorn as the Potions Master and Head of House Slytherin. This was not what he had imagined his life to turn out to be, since he had little patience with children - especially the younger ones.
If at least he could have gotten the Defense position - that was the one position he really would have liked to take - but the Headmaster had nixed that idea right from the start.
The Headmaster had laid it out to him that the position was cursed and that he couldn't risk giving him the position, or something horrible was going to happen to him. He had even shown him the list of previous professors and how they were forced out of the position. He had not believed the Headmaster, despite having gone through seven Defense professors during his own school years, until the end of the previous school year. That year's Defense professor got trampled by some centaurs near the Forbidden Forest and she left Hogwarts in critical condition directly for St. Mungo's.
After that he understood the Headmaster's reasons, though it still stung.
No, his frustration stemmed from multiple sources, all of which were fanning the fires of his unpleasant nature. Being unable to get the Defense position was only a minor factor in that.
First of course was the fact that he didn't like teaching younger children. He could live with the older teenagers, as they understood what was expected of them, but the general ignorance of the younger students in anything potion-related clashed horribly with his own perfectionism. He simply did not have the patience to explain every little detail to children - after all, he got it all without any help in his own school years, so why shouldn't they? Using himself as the yardstick of course put the bar way too high - but he hadn't realized that yet.
His personality was not helping as well, and it had only taken three months for him to get a really bad reputation as a teacher from the students - especially from the older ones who saw him as lacking compared to Slughorn. He had not expected anything else however.
What he hadn't expected, was, how things were turning out in his relations with House Slytherin. At first he'd held high hopes in becoming the head of his old house at Hogwarts. However, things did not turn out as expected, as he was starting to understand.
Some transition problems had been expected - after all, Slughorn had been the Head of House Slytherin for over 40 years - thus why Slughorn had already introduced him and eased him into the job the previous school year. Yet, that was not the core reason for his current problems with the Slytherin students.
No, the core reason was, that the Slytherins didn't respect him. Oh, sure, on the outside they showed him all the respect his position demanded, but he knew the true nature of his old house, whose students have cunning as one of its required traits (though sadly there were more and more exceptions). He did have his own sources, and managed to puzzle together the mosaic of what exactly was going on.
Essentially, the older Slytherins had several reasons that they didn't take him seriously. First was his young age. With just barely over 20 years in age, he was not that much older as the students, and they thus naturally saw him as inexperienced and a pushover. Second was his tendency to be highly biased in favor of Slytherin, which had convinced them that he would never dare to move against his own house. Third and final, him getting cleared of all charges had had the unfortunate effect of poisoning the children of blood-supremacists and Death Eater sympathizers against him, as their parents saw him as a weakling or partial traitor.
No, this was not turning out as intended. He could not even flee into his private hatred. James Potter was dead, and instead of satisfaction, it had just left a void in him. Combine that with his guilt that it was his own fault that Lily was dead, and his life was pretty miserable.
Snape shook his head and returned to the task at hand, namely checking the potions of the first-year students, now that they were done. The potion was something so incredibly simple, even they couldn't mess it up - though that was daring fate to prove him wrong. While he knew the current Slytherin first years were still respecting him, this would soon change under the influence of their older peers.
Looking at the cauldron of one Gryffindor first year boy with striking red hair after several dismal results from others - even from his own house - he raised an eyebrow at the perfect color and consistency. "Have you practiced potions in private, Weasley?"
Bill Weasley was quite nervous when being addressed by Professor Snape, having already seen in class how nasty he could get. "My mother let me make some simple ones at home."
"Finally someone in this class who uses his brain." Snape saying this about a Gryffindor was rare enough.
"Man, you have no idea how lucky you just have been," the student next to Bill whispered after Snape had left.
"Actually, I do have a really good idea about that..." After all, Bill had felt like a game animal about to get shot.
Snape moved on to a Slytherin girl and could only shake his head. Even with his bias to his own house, there was no way that potion was anything but a complete disaster. Another dismal showing of his own house. It felt insulting to him, that the best potion up to this point came from a Gryffindor. It made him wonder how far his house had fallen since his graduation.
Having found an outlet for his bad mood, Snape drew his wand. "This is just plain horrible and I won't tolerate such in my classroom."
Watching Snape vanish the potion of the girl, who promptly dissolved into tears, Bill Weasley realized how he had just avoided a major point loss. Boy, Snape seems to have a relatively good day. I don't ever again want to experience another of Snape's really bad days...
After all, the one time had been more than enough.
...Nurmengard prison, Germany, May 8th 1984...
Nurmengard was a testament to the world of Gellert Grindelwald. It looked a lot like a medieval fortress, built in an inhospitable area of the German Alps, that looked straight out of an old fairy tale. It also was a stark contrast to present-day's magical Germany. However, Albus Dumbledore had litte eye for it while waiting at the main gate to be admitted.
"Alles in Ordnung. Sie können passieren," the uniformed guard said and gave back the magically signed papers. The big gate of Nurmengard opened for Dumbledore to enter, so he could visit its sole prisoner.
Honestly, visiting Germany was for many wizards and witches a very strange experience, and it all was connected at the basic level with the very man he was visiting. Basically speaking, thanks to Gellert Grindelwald, both parts of Germany no longer had any form of true separate wizard culture to speak of. It all was due to various factors in Grindelwald's rise and the war itself.
While many people knew that Grindelwald had been a magical supremacist who believed that those with magic should rule over those without - essentially turning them into slaves - many overlooked that Grindelwald was not blind to the realities. Essentially, he'd already known how far the non-magical world had come and that any grandiose plans for absolute domination were mere dreams. The numbers alone strictly spoke against it - any open attempt in that direction would end in disaster.
That didn't mean however he'd shelved his plans, he merely adapted them to reality. He also was a very pragmatic man and had known that sometimes you had to make compromises in order to make the first steps. So in order to gain control over the whole magical population of Europe, he needed allies. Thus he had done the exact opposite of what the end result of his philosophy dictated - he reached out to allies, magical and non-magical alike.
On the magical side, he found allies in the pure-bloods of his country. The massive turmoil that had shaken Germany ever since 1914 had bled through to its magical community - after all, full separation was an illusion - causing them to become very insecure. Even worse, the growing number of muggleborn and half-bloods had started to feel like a threat to them. They had felt Grindelwald was the right man to deal with the problem.
On the non-magical side, Grindelwald had seen where the wind was blowing in the early 30s and thus came into contact with the Nazis. Impressed by the sheer drive for power of their leader, Grindelwald forged a dark pact with Hitler, in that Grindelwald would help to destroy all magical opposition in the war that would surely come, while Hitler promised to help Grindelwald with his allies' problems.
Grindelwald himself had not been a blood-purist, but knew he had to appease his magical allies. He had seen the concentration camps as ideal for not murdering muggleborn and half-bloods, but destroy their spirit until they could be used essentially as a magical slave caste. There had been enough pure-bloods very willing to do the dirty work in the camps.
Of course, this also was the root of the current situation.
When they were getting crushed from all sides at the end of the war, the pure-bloods realized they would lose everything, so they felt the world after was no longer worth living. They'd murdered all of their own children, before suicidally fighting to the death. Thus, the pure-bloods got all killed and the traumatized surviving muggleborn and half-bloods felt repulsed by a magical culture that had done that to them.
Dumbledore shook himself out of his thoughts when reaching the doors to where he would see Grindelwald. The two guards at the door could very well have worked in an ordinary prison, there was no outer difference, apart from wands instead of guns hanging from their belts. It represented how a separate magical culture essentially no longer existed in this country.
"Er wartet drinnen auf Sie," one of the guards said, opening the door for Dumbledore.
Dumbledore's first thought when seeing Grindelwald, was, that the man had grown old. Granted, almost 40 years in prison couldn't be good for anyone, but the contrast to the last time he'd seen him was massive. Grindelwald looked sickly; he had lost lots of weight and next to all of his hair. The biggest difference however was in his eyes; the once proud and arrogant man was no more, in its place now being a strange sense of calm peace.
"Hallo, Gellert. Ich wünschte ich könnte sagen, dass du gut aussiehst, aber das wäre eine offenkundige Lüge," he greeted his former friend.
Grindelwald gave him a weak laugh, surprising Dumbledore, who had expected the man to have become very bitter. "Oh, vielen Dank für die Blumen." Grindelwald stopped for a moment. "Thanks for greeting me in German, Albus, but I think you'll be more comfortable with your own language." His English sounded a bit slow, probably from lack of usage.
That was a surprisingly friendly greeting, considering the last time they met face-to-face was in battle. "For being a prisoner in the very prison you built for your enemies, you are in good spirits."
"Surprised? Well, all these years have changed me quite a bit. But enough of myself, what gives me the honor of your visit? It must not have been easy to come here, after all," Grindelwald asked, being curious. The man clearly enjoyed the day being different.
"Honestly? Recently I've been thinking a lot about the past and how it shaped me into the man I'm today. You played a big part in it, so I felt to truly understand, visiting you could be beneficial," Dumbledore explained.
"I harbour the guess you want to leave out...?" Grindelwald started to ask.
Dumbledore looked pained. "Yes. I'm not proud of that day, and I guess neither are you."
That had been the worst day in his life, when the man he'd thought of more than a friend betrayed him, resulting in his sister dead and his brother being alienated. That very day had shattered the arrogant man he had been, and transformed him into the man he was now. A man, who had learned a very painful lesson of how wrong he had been.
I can't be trusted with too much power. Look what happened. Had this not happened, I would have turned out like Gellert. That was the lesson that had stuck.
Without even noticing, Dumbledore had pulled out his wand and looked at it. Grindelwald recognized it. "Of course you still have it. Unlike me, you've won it in a fair battle, no one can take that honor from you."
"To be honest, Gellert, your disposition is puzzling me. I honestly expected you to be bitter and hateful," Dumbledore finally admitted, , wondering about Grindelwald's shifted personality. "You were plenty bitter when you were sentenced to life in your own prison."
"Oh, I was bitter for the first ten years or so, feeling quite wronged. However, you can only keep this up for so long in complete loneliness with only the occasional guard as company," Grindelwald explained, closing his eyes for a moment. "At first I didn't notice, but over time I truly began to think about my deeds and questioned if I really should have done it."
Now Dumbledore was interested. Grindelwald had done plenty of dark deeds in his life. Could it be possible...? "And what do you think now?"
"That I deserve every single day in here. I was a horrible person and I deserve to die in this prison with all my guilt and regrets. At least I'll keep my soul to get further punishment on the other side - unlike that insane prison with soul-eating fiends your Ministry is obviously still using," Grindelwald admitted, looking even older than he already was.
True remorse. Gellert, you might not realize it, but you saved your own soul, Dumbledore thought.
"The usage of Azkaban is highly controversial outside of Britain - and even in some circles inside it. So you are not alone with that view," Dumbledore said, wanting to keep his thoughts to himself.
"Die Banalität des Bösen. Elende Schreibtischtäter," Grindelwald whispered, and Dumbledore knew he meant the British Ministry with it.
"Indeed. 'Der Weg zur Hölle ist mit guten Absichten gepflastert.' I think that expression fits best, doesn't it?" Dumbledore added, remembering how his own efforts against Azkaban in its current form had fizzled out in the Ministry.
"However... it just came to me. Maybe you can help me with something - something strange I noticed a few years ago, despite my magic having fled me." Grindelwald looked thoughtful. "I know I only felt it because I know of the dark magic in question and ever since it doesn't let me go."
"Gellert, what exactly are you talking about?" Dumbledore asked his former friend.
"I was curious about immortality many years ago and read books about it, but when reading what to actually do to gain it, I burned them to ashes. Back then I was capable of much, but even I was horrified at cutting my soul into pieces to live forever." Grindelwald clearly was disgusted at the very idea.
Now Dumbledore was very interested. "And you felt that a few years ago?"
"Yes. It was faint, but clearly someone did it and the protection activated. Albus, please tell me no one was insane enough to go through with it!" Grindelwald looked highly uncomfortable now.
Dumbledore however didn't answer for the moment, coming to a horrifying conclusion. He'd already had his suspicions, since Voldemort's seeming demise created more questions than answers, but this was the first confirmation that what Dumbledore feared had actually happened. It also meant that the prophecy was proven more correct than he would have believed.
Tom, what have you done?
...Little Whinging, July 14th...
While the garden of the Evans house was not especially big, the high fence allowed a good degree of privacy on this Saturday as the small family relaxed after another work week. Other people would go on vacation, but with Harry's young age, this wasn't an option at the moment. Also, there were other ways of relaxing at home in this weather.
"Hahaha! Wet! Wet, Unca Tom!" Harry laughed while playing with the water in the inflatable children's pool.
"Careful! While you might like getting wet, I don't!" Thomas called from where he was reading a book in his deck chair, keeping said book out of danger.
The only answer was a giggle from Harry.
"Well, one thing is for sure: it never gets boring with children," Thomas remarked, putting his book onto the nearby garden table, now that his concentration was gone.
"It sure doesn't," Veronica remarked while giving her husband a glass of cold lemonade. "You know, seeing Harry so happy... Maybe we should try for one of our own? Remember, we talked about it."
Thomas did remember.
Truth to be told, there was nothing speaking against it. Harry was a bit older now and needed less direct care, thus giving them the time for a child. His company now was flourishing due to the boom in usage of computers in companies, having expanded quite a bit, and they thus were very secure in their finances. They would just actually have to actively try for a child now.
I know she loves Harry dearly, but raising him really made her want a child of her own, Thomas remembered.
He also remembered the looks she was giving Harry - looks of longing. "I do remember. Are you sure you are ready for this? Are we are ready for this? This is quite a big step, you know?"
Veronica actually chuckled. "Thomas, we've been raising a child for almost three years now. I think both of us are more than ready for this. I also don't believe a word of the horror stories my mother told me about pregnancy."
She had never exactly said what her mother had told her about pregnancy, though it couldn't have been that bad, considering that she still wanted them to make her a grandmother in reasonable time - while she was fond of Harry, she also wanted a blood-related grandchild as well. Yes, no pressure, though she reminded them of it regularly.
The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. I can't say no to her, and I really start to feel now would be a good time to try and have one of our own.
Seeing his expression shift, Veronica's mood brightened. Oh yes, he wants us to try!
However, while his expression was answer enough for her, he was prevented from saying anything when hearing the garden gate open.
"Man, that was really hard work."
"Oh, it's Unca Padfoot!" Harry shouted when seeing Sirius enter the garden, only being stopped from jumping up to hug him by the water in the pool.
"Oh, Sirius... eh, you look pretty worn. Has something happened?" Thomas asked, wondering since it was a Saturday and thus Sirius didn't have to commute for his probation time on the force.
"You could say that. Remember yesterday was the full moon?" That made them realize why Sirius could be so tired. "You have a free chair? I really need to sit down first."
Pulling up another deck chair for him, Sirius almost fell into it and then gladly accepted the cold lemonade Veronica offered to him, downing almost half the glass before he was fit to tell them more. "Thanks, I really needed that." He then lowered his volume so no one could hear. "Well, as I said, last night was the full moon and you know what happens with Remus then."
They both knew of course. About a year ago, Remus had felt he needed to be open about his lycanthropy to them. They both had been a bit unnerved at first, but then felt that while the wolf was indeed very dangerous, it only happened at specific dates and then Remus himself was making sure no one would get hurt. They had been more angry at how he was treated due to a sickness that had been given to him by a psychopath by intent.
"It was worse than usual?" Veronica asked, having heard some tales of how painful it could be to Remus.
"The worst in a long time. The wolf clearly was unhappy and I had my paws full to keep him occupied, lest he starts to hurt Remus. This is why I'm so tired - it had been a long night and I got little sleep. Remus is still in bed, I don't think he'll get up for the whole day. We're already dreading that this night will be more of the same," Sirius explained.
"This is horrible. Hasn't anyone ever tried to ease the suffering of these poor people? I mean, it sounds like the sickness has been known for centuries," Veronica asked, still wondering how Remus had managed to live with it for next to 20 years.
Sirius gave off a humorless laugh. "Are you joking? As soon as someone gets infected, they are no longer seen as human. The law classifies them as beasts and their lives are made as crappy as possible. Remus had to hide it so he could even get an education."
"This is..." Thomas was trying to find words for it, but failed. "Do these people even have an ounce of logic in them?"
"No, of course not." Sirius shook his head. "That general policy is only driving these people to crime and making them hate magical society. The psychopath who infected Remus? He's the product of these idiotic policies, felt that he should create as many as possible to pay back society for their crappy treatment of werewolves."
That was a disturbing thought in itself.
Thomas then gave the still oblivious Harry a look. "Perhaps we should discuss such things in private in the future," he said quietly. "After all, Harry is starting to grow old enough to start remember what we are talking about. No need to court trouble."
"Perhaps that should go for the garden as well," Veronica added, pointing out that someone else could have listened in, had they been too loud. "All that whispering would look suspicious to anyone watching us."
While their neighbors probably would have dismissed it as nonsense had they heard any of their conversation, they should start to become more careful with where they talk about such things. They had become somewhat lax - a bad habit they would have to stop as soon as possible.
...in the Evans home, October 5th...
Thank all goodness these episodes are rare at his current age, otherwise people would ask questions, Veronica thought after making sure that Harry was asleep in bed.
Harry's episodes of accidental magic were thankfully very rare, though there had been one or two close calls ever since they had taken him in. They also knew that once Harry would grow older, there would be more of these coming. She was just glad Remus had been at home, and he was capable of quickly undoing the damage done before anyone could witness it. Having adult wizards close by while raising a magical child did have its advantages.
I honestly have no idea what went through his head when it happened. Poor ' cat. Thank goodness for Remus; no way I would have tolerated officials from that Ministry showing up.
She'd already had enough excitement after getting the test results from her doctor, so Harry's magical episode had made the day a bit too exciting for her tastes. She yet had to share the news, having waited until the right moment where she could be alone with Thomas. Now looked to be a good moment to share the good news.
Walking down the stairs, she saw her husband having put his attention to the television, eagerly watching the sports news about the recent results in the Football League First Division. I should have remembered that it was a football evening. Great...
Knowing that if she wanted to get anything done, she would have to get her husband away from the television set. "Thomas, darling?"
"Uh, yes?" he asked distractedly.
Veronica knew she had to be more direct. "I have something important to share with you."
That finally gave her his attention. If she started like that, then he should better give her his full attention, otherwise he would pay for it. She only had used that tone a few times and he knew he should not tempt fate. So reluctantly turning off the TV, he waited until she would sit down beside him on the couch. The silent communication did work.
"How important are we talking about?" he asked.
"Very important." Veronica knew she had to start somewhere. "You know how I didn't feel so well for some time now?"
Thomas did remember too well. Veronica had felt under the weather for some time now, and three days ago, had vomited rather heavily as well. That finally had convinced her to get herself checked through, just in case it was something serious. Now hearing her talk like that alarmed him.
"Is... is something wrong with you?" he asked, a hint of fear in his voice.
"No!" she said quickly to stop him from worrying. "No, nothing is wrong with me. In fact, something is actually very right." Taking her husband's hand, she put it onto her belly. "In fact, it was wonderful news. I am pregnant."
Thomas needed a moment to really register what she was saying, as overwhelmed as he was.
Sure, they had been trying for a child for some time now, but hearing the news still came a bit out of nowhere for him. "Oh... oh, really? No false alarm?"
"When I let myself checked through, they had a good guess what it could be, and they got the test results today, while you were at work. There is no doubt about it. We are going to become parents... well, again," Veronica confirmed it.
"This... I..." Suddenly Thomas grabbed her and fell back, causing him to lie on the couch and Veronica landing on him.
"Thomas! Please no... mhhh-mhhhh." Her protest was silenced by a kiss and now she realized this actually was really nice. When he released her lips, she couldn't help but giggle. "You know, this is quite a comfortable position..."
"These are wonderful news!" it finally came out of Thomas. "It will be sheer torture to wait all these months."
"Well, easy for you to say," Veronica reminded him. "After all, it's not you whose belly will look like an inflated balloon, not you who will get morning sickness and suffer from back pains and sore feet." She then brightened up. "But it will be all worth it."
"Just let me hold you for a bit..."
They didn't know how long they were like this, simply enjoying the closeness and the warm feeling that new life was growing deep within Veronica's belly. There were things that words simply couldn't express. Shifting a bit, Thomas now was behind his wife, his hands resting on her belly. This probably would have lasted for a long time, if not for...
"Ahhhh!" -pang-
Hearing Harry scream in fear, followed by something popping, both of them quickly ran upstairs. Thankfully, nothing seemed wrong, apart from Harry sitting in his bed, looking quite upset.
"Bad dream... bad dream!" Harry cried.
It took them quite some time to calm the young boy down, and even longer for him to tell as best as it was possible for a four-year old what his nightmare had been about. Both of them were disturbed by his nightmare. Most of it was just a bright green light, which for some reason scared Harry to no end. Worse was the cruel laughter of a man behind the green light.
By then they had a pretty good idea what this could be about, but would have to ask their magical friends for confirmation. If it was that, then the murderer left behind a pretty cruel parting gift. They by then also saw the source of the popping sound. Harry's nightlight had shattered - most likely due a burst of accidental magic Harry let lose in his terror.
After Harry had finally fallen asleep again, they quietly left the room.
Thomas looked quite grim. "Well, this destroyed the good mood..."
Veronica on the other hand firmed her expression. "No, don't let this maniac destroy our happiness from beyond the grave! I will not let him sour the wonderful news of our child growing in me."
Holding each other close, they both vowed to not let Voldemort have even a small victory post-mortem.
...Little Whinging police station, March 1st 1985...
Had someone told me while I was at Hogwarts what I would do as a future job , I would have laughed at the supposed joke, Sirius thought while buttoning up his uniform jacket.
Changing into his uniform in the changing rooms of Little Whinging's police station, Sirius still was kind of amazed that he had gotten to this point, his first day as Constable Black of Little Whinging. He knew that everyone else would throw him a little party at the evening to celebrate his success. Maybe it was even more astounding that his request for his placement after his probation period actually got honored, though he had the strange feeling he for some reason had gotten extra leeway.
The way to this point had been hard enough.
It was his luck that the government rolled out a big police reform just when he had finished his extensive training - which honestly had been much easier than the self-inflicted nightmare of getting the needed education. That had had the negative effect of lengthening his probation period - during which he was sent to various police districts - for quite a bit. Not that he was the only one grumbling, the old-fashioned coppers all disliked the trouble the reform was causing.
However, even though this put additional rocks into his path, he'd made it and now was a constable of the Little Whinging police force - which in itself was not that big, considering it was a rather sleepy suburb of London with only few crimes being reported.
Who cares if my main occupation will be writing traffic tickets and solving public disturbances. After being in a war, I've had enough excitement for years to come, Sirius thought.
Looking up, he saw himself in the little mirror inside his locker. He certainly had changed on the outside, now sporting a mustache - though not a bushy monstrosity like Vernon Dursley was wearing. Some of the other cops had joked that he really wanted to look the part of the copper, but he felt it gave him more character.
He gave himself one final look. Look at your pure-blooded son now. He's doing a perfectly ordinary Muggle job. I would really love sending my dear mother a picture, if I could.
Closing his locker, he put his custodian helmet under his arm and left the locker room. First things first, he walked to the Chief Inspector's office. Little Whinging might be small, but it still was the biggest town in the police district. Knocking on the door, he was told to enter and was already expected by the Chief Inspector.
"Ah, our newly-minted Constable Black. Welcome to the police of Little Whinging," the Chief Inspector greeted him, clearly being relieved that the penny-pinchers gave him a new constable. "Ready to start your first day on the force?"
"Yes, Sir. Though, no offense, I do expect it to be considerably peaceful. After all, we are not in London."
"Indeed. To be honest, I also would not want to have the problems of my colleagues in London. It is a very unrestful time. Mass protests about politics and the economy, terrorist attacks by the IRA and social unrest. No, I'm glad Surrey is rather rural."
"We can only hope it stays that way, Sir. Though, we would be rather redundant if it were fully peaceful," Sirius remarked.
"Certainly true, but human nature ensures that sooner or later something is bound happen. Let's hope, however, that it's later." The Chief Inspector paused for a moment. "You also experienced the slight upheavals in the force?"
"Hard not to, Sir. It extended my probation period quite a bit," Sirius answered honestly.
"It's not like it used to be, the bureaucrats are now holding the power and are squeezing us dry for every single penny. I had to fight to actually get an additional constable. Well then, good luck on your first day with us," the Chief Inspector dismissed him.
"Thank you, Sir." Sirius then left the office.
Walking down the corridor, he walked by the big office, where the other bobbies of the night shift were busy with writing their reports, the loud rattling of typewriters and the smell of nicotine filling the air. The typewriters stopped when they saw him, being replaced by words of encouragement instead.
"Ah, so you are the new one on our force!" one bobby said, causing the attention of the others.
"It's your first day, right?" another man asked while lighting himself a cigarette.
Sirius felt quite welcomed by them, having gotten used to the culture during his probation. "Yes, my first round. Though I've lived here for several years; will certainly be weird for me and those who know me to see me being a beat cop."
"Oh, don't worry, you'll get used to it and almost everyone will give you more respect."
"Almost everyone?" Sirius asked, though he had an idea.
"Well, those we catch certainly won't respect you." Laughter filled to big office at the inside joke.
The bobby with the newly lit cigarette sighed. "Man, I wonder how long I can still do this indoors. I've heard some health-nuts at the top want to forbid us smoking indoors. Times are really starting to change..."
"What can we do? Best we try to adapt. I've heard they even want to retire the typewriters and replace them with these new computers, and we are set to get them earlier than others due to being so close to London," another bobby added.
"Well, I'll miss the rattling of these things. Wonder what the government plans to do with so many typewriters?" the only female officer present lamented. "I bet they send someone with these computers to make sure we won't break them."
They then collectively wished Sirius a good first day on the force.
Feeling better, Sirius walked to the front door, putting on his helmet. Walking outside, he took a deep breath. This was it, the one job he would do for years to come. He felt no regrets about it, and just in case he felt the familiar weight of his wand, being held securely by a wand holster strapped to his arm and under his sleeve. Just because he didn't do much magic anymore didn't mean he shouldn't always have it at hand.
Starting his round through the neighborhood, he was glad that the station was only around twenty minutes away on foot from his home. Commuting in the non-magical world, he knew, was murderous.
On his way, he noticed people greeting him politely; a stark contrast to how he was seen when he had first arrived, still in his biker image. People put too much on outside appearance, though in a way I can understand them. It's an early warning sign for them.
"Hello, offi... -gasp-!"
Stopping, he looked to who had tried to greet him, and was greeted by the sight of Petunia, a rather porky-looking four-year old Dudley holding onto her hand. Petunia had paled significantly at his sight and he had a good idea why that was. After all, to her he was a danger to her way of life, thus seeing him in a police uniform must have been a shock to her.
"Can I help you, Mrs. Dursley?" Sirius asked.
"Uhm, that is...? How possibly could...?" Petunia stumbled over her words, trying to collect herself.
Sirius didn't show it, but he was enjoying every second of it. He knew that Petunia and Vernon hated them from the very first day they moved into the house next to theirs, but their sheer cowardice stopping them from doing anything about it. It was pure irony that Petunia, who was always spying on them from behind the curtains, did miss such a big development. Now she was in an even worse position, with him being an officer of the law.
Finally, Petunia managed to collect herself. "I had no idea my neighbor is part of the police."
"Constable Black at your service, Ma'am. This is my very first day," Sirius told her, feeling this was the best prank - one where he had done absolutely nothing.
"That makes me feel more safe, Sir." It was pretty obvious, that inside Petunia felt like screaming in despair at this new development, but she had to control herself.
"Mum, you always call that man..." Dudley was stopped by his mother's hand over his mouth.
Petunia shook her head. "Now, Diddy darling, I'll get you some lollipops, all right?"
That silenced the boy and Sirius watched them leave suspiciously fast. Looks like you are not happy, Petunia, he thought, still composing himself, despite the glee he felt.
He had no doubt that Petunia couldn't wait to report this to her husband as soon as he was home, so that they both could bemoan their bad fortune. Now they not only had two wizards as neighbors, whom they obviously still thought of being gay, they now also would have to live with the fact that one of said wizards as of this day was an officer of the law.
Sometimes it's the small things in life... Now in a really good mood, Sirius continued his patrol through Little Whinging.
...ICW headquarters, Switzerland, April 5th...
While there were many - sometimes strange - parallels between the magical and non-magical worlds, this was a big difference. While the United Nations were seated in New York, the wizarding equivalent, the ICW, was located in Switzerland. One could blame the much lower importance of magical America for this development. It was well-placed in the mountains overlooking Lake Geneva, generating a breathtaking sight on a clear day.
Albus Dumbledore had gotten used to the sight from its headquarters over the years, his duties as the Supreme Mugwump meaning he would have to travel to this place regularly. Knowing it was time, he left the balcony and walked inside, where everyone was already waiting for him.
"Well, Monsieur Dumbledore, it must be important, if you wanted to speak with all of the inner council," the ambassador of France said, speaking for everyone present.
"Indeed. This will be important for the ICW, as there will be a change after a bit over 30 years," Dumbledore told the gathered wizards and witches, who now gave him their whole attention.
Gathered at the round table were the ambassadors of the twenty most important magical societies in the world - well, actually 19, since one was absent and had been for a long time already. It was a pretty good mirror of the non-magical world, but with some noticeable differences in terms of importance of some nations.
"Change after over 30 years, sounds like it's connected to you personally," Michelle Corley, the ambassador of the United States, observed.
The magical United States, represented by MACUSA, were far less important than their non-magical counterpart, thanks to the widespread damages caused by Rappaport's Law. While the upheavals of the late 60s had destroyed said law and the by then highly corrupt system that held it up, the magical US was still seen rightfully as incredibly behind the times - which meant something when looking at Britain.
MACUSA right at the moment was still in hot water over the ghost invasion incident in New York the previous year, especially since their obliviators had messed up and barely managed to save the situation by planting the idea that the four men who battled and captured the ghosts without any magic were frauds. Everyone hoped it would stick.
"Oh, it indeed is, for I intend to step down at the end of the year from my position as the Supreme Mugwump," Dumbledore explained.
There was a moment of silence, before the Chinese ambassador Ho Lin Deng took the word. "This... is very unexpected. After such a long time only few can actively remember someone else on the post."
Magical China in turn was suffering from the fact, that its traditionally close relationship with the non-magical population had gotten severely disrupted after the rise of the communists in 1948 and the subsequent crusades against 'old superstitions'. The situation was only slowly improving and the damage would be felt for decades to come.
"There must be a good reason for you to make such a far-reaching decision. Could you please enlighten us about your motivation behind this big step?" asked Florian Müller, the ambassador of Germany - the free parts of magical Germany that is.
Of course, the German ambassador stood out, looking more like a Muggle diplomat at the United Nations, which was quite the novelty. The despot of magical Russia, Kusnetsov, had never gotten over the fact that the ICW didn't acknowledge the part of magical Germany that his troops were keeping occupied ever since the end of the war. The German situation was a constant problem and the reason the Russian seat was empty since 1953.
Not that anyone was sad about it, since that meant they wouldn't have to deal with a magical country ruled by basically a dark lord. Of course the other magical communities in eastern Europe were another problem. However, Kusnetsov was old and by now very sick. No one knew how things would develop after his death. There already were cracks visible simply due to his failing health.
"Oh, I actually have three good reasons for my decision. First, I feel it is not to our advantage if one person holds for too long on such a political position and new people should get the opportunity to shine. Additionally, I do feel my age and have decided that I need less of a workload. Finally, and most important to me, I realized that having too many obligations means I'm forced to neglect some duties due to lack of time," Dumbledore explained.
"Ah, Señor Dumbledore, you want to concentrate on your position as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, correct?" the Spanish ambassador guessed.
"Yes. I feel that giving the biggest part of my attention to the education of future generations should be my highest priority," Dumbledore confirmed.
"Oui, this certainly is an admirable position," the French ambassador confirmed. "It would be interesting to see how Hogwarts would do against Beauxbatons some years in the future. The last comparison was unfair, due to the ongoing war situation in magical Britain."
The German ambassador shook his head. "I'll never understand this rivalry between these schools. My nation certainly isn't part of that."
"Your nation is downright strange. Essentially no actual magical culture, instead electing to practically live like Muggles. No interest in Quidditch whatsoever. And no central magical school, instead decentralized regional schools. Your country is strange," the Italian ambassador sighed, combing her fingers through her graying hair.
The German ambassador looked offended. "You know why my country and people are the way they are."
Dumbledore, knowing that Grindelwald's atrocities were still a sore topic for wizards and witches from Germany, called for attention. "Now, we do have eight months to find someone new to fill the position of the Supreme Mugwup. I would thankful for suggestions."
This started the age-old game of politics - a game which Dumbledore, while being good at , did not exactly like. Another reason why he would never strive to become Minister for Magic.
...Little Whinging hospital, May 14th 1985...
"I'm sorry I couldn't come until my workday was over, but the Sergeant would not have accepted my reason, since it's not my wife who's giving birth right now. She is still giving birth, right?" Sirius asked after entering the waiting area, where Remus was busy with keeping watch over Harry, who in turn was busy with a coloring book, while they waited for news about Veronica.
"Well, considering we haven't heard anything yet, she must still be in the middle of labor," Remus told his friend. "Poor Thomas looked far more nervous than her, though her look of discomfort certainly made up for it."
Sirius had gotten the call in the station, while writing up his daily report, that Victoria had went into labor and Thomas, after rushing home and probably breaking several traffic regulations - he would have to check later - had rushed her to the hospital of Little Whinging. Sirius however hadn't had any excuse to leave early - after all, Veronica was not his wife and also it wasn't his child being on the way - and thus it only was after over an hour later that he was finally present.
Honestly, he had been sprinting home after changing out of his uniform to jump onto his motorcycle and get to the hospital. Only the worry it could reflect bad him stopped him from speeding as well. He knew the feeling of nervous excitement, it was the same when Harry had been born.
"Auntie Verni looked hurt," Harry observed, having stopped coloring for the moment.
Thank all goodness she already told him that his sibling is growing in her, and that he'd learn the 'how', once he's older, Remus thought, being glad that Harry got some kind of explanation from Veronica.
"Well, the baby is quite big, and it now wants out. She has to push it out, and you can imagine that's very uncomfortable for her, Harry," Remus then explained to the almost 5-year old boy.
Harry's imagination considered the size Veronica's belly had grown to, and then he grimaced. "Owie."
"Looks like you now understand, young man." Sirius looked amused at Harry's grimace. "Don't give me that look, I remember your father telling me you made your own mother quite uncomfortable when she had to push you out."
"Oh." Harry knew something had happened to his parents, but was not yet old enough to really understand the concept of death.
One crisis averted, Sirius thought when seeing Harry return his attention to his coloring book.
Closing his eyes, Sirius tried to relax, but thought started to creep in. Truth to be told, it made Sirius think about his own future while waiting for any news about Veronica and her baby.
All the previous girlfriends he'd had during his time at Hogwarts were mutual agreements that it was nothing permanent, just both parties fooling around and relieving pent-up feelings. Essentially, it was training for any future true relationships. Ever since leaving Hogwarts, he's been celibate. First due to the war, then due to Harry, his education and now his job. Perhaps it was time for him to finally think about himself in that regard? Perhaps not yet but maybe soon in the future?
He shuddered when he remembered that one of the things that finally made him run away was that marriage his parents had set up with the Flint family. Besides the fact they were arrogant enough to pull such a stunt, the woman - at least ten years older than him - had looked like a hairy troll. The joke was, that they called that good pure-blood breeding stock. That essentially had soured him on the very idea of ever getting involved with a pure-blood witch. At least his parents managed one good thing with it: he knew what kind of woman he didn't want to get involved with.
Sirius was pulled out of his thoughts when a door opened and Thomas appeared, looking very happy. "Ah, all of you are here."
Well, not exactly all of them, but Veronica's parents were currently somewhere in Australia and Thomas' parents lived too far away to come at such a short notice. They sure would be happy once they got the news later.
"Are they...?" Remus asked, while Sirus helped Harry to pack up his things.
"Mother and child are in great health! Come, let me introduce you!" Thomas told them, looking incredibly happy and proud.
They followed him through the corridors, until arriving in the room where Veronica was recovering from the birthing process. Being ushered in, they saw Veronica in a bed, looking in utter fascination at the small bundle she was holding in her arms. Once she noticed them, she looked up. While looking really tired, she beamed like a radiant sun.
"Oh, come! Let me introduce all of you to our new son, Mark!" she called them over.
They all looked at the newborn baby in her arms. Now, newborn babies pretty much looked all the same, but that didn't stop Sirius and Remus hearts from melting in sheer adoration. Harry on the other hand looked confused at the newborn Mark Evans and then asked why the baby looked so wrinkly.
"Oh, he spent nine months in water, of course little Mark is wrinkly," Veronica laughed, not being offended by Harry's honest question. "Remember how you are when you get out of the bath."
"Don't think you looked any better at that age," Remus added. "Oh, I remember when Lily presented you to us, you were just as wrinkly."
Harry blushed while the adults got a good laugh.
What none of them knew, that the birth of little Mark Evans aroused something else's attention.
In her office, Professor Minerva McGonagall was busy with correcting test papers for her fifth year Transfiguration class. Putting a red 'T' under an especially appalling test paper of a student she was very certain would not make an OWL in Transfiguration at the end of her year - which made her wonder why that girl had even been sorted into Ravenclaw - she noticed that the Book of Attendance was getting active.
Well, it was not the book itself, though it was magical, that was the really important part, as it was replaced every decade once being full. The really powerful magic was in the quill that wrote in it. It was enchanted to register the births of new magic users on the British Isles and write them down into the book. The names were only recorded with the date of birth. No additional information like residence and parents were available.
The book was kept in her office, since it generally was her who dealt with muggleborn students - which were easy to identify, considering how small the magical community was on the British Isles. The name and birthdate alone were enough to check with Ministry records and come to the correct conclusions. The system had worked well so far.
"Looks like someone new will be attending in eleven years." Glad to get away from these test papers for a moment, McGonagall walked over to the book and read what the quill was writing.
Mark Evans
born: May 14th 1985
"Well, now this is interesting..." she mused when reading the name. "Perhaps I should send a letter by Muggle mail to Sirius and ask for confirmation?"
In honesty, she looked over all the recent names and could guess that about a third of those names were muggleborn future students - a percentage that was bound to rise even further in the future, thanks the recent war killing so many magic users and the simple fact of numbers due to the Muggle population being so vastly bigger.
She also had no illusions that it would cause friction in the future with those who disliked change.
...June 24th, Privet Drive...
Dudley Dursley at the moment was a rather unhappy now five-year old boy; sulking in the garden due to current circumstances.
His birthday the previous day had not exactly went as he had imagined. Oh, not from the number of presents - his parents were as generous as ever. To an outside observer, they were heaping lots of material goods on him which he held no appreciation for. Oh yes, Dudley Dursley was an incredibly spoiled boy who thought his living arrangements were the norm and that he was the center of all attention. Boy, would he be in for a shock at the start of his first school year.
No, his bad mood was the result of his Aunt Marge being present for his birthday - she actually still was visiting. Oh, he was acting like a perfect nephew to her - as much as that was possible for him - but in truth he could barely tolerate her. He was too young to know exactly what it was that caused him dislike her, especially since his father held so much on her, but it had made his own birthday pretty miserable for him. Even worse, he'd had no outlet for his bad mood.
The game of musical statutes - of course they had let him win on purpose, not that he knew that fact - had only made things worse. The only consolation had been the birthday cake, of which he'd almost eaten half of himself. Marge's presence, for some reason he didn't understand yet, simply dragged down his mood. He was too young to understand the reason lied in the fact that she simply was such an unpleasant person.
With his father being at work, he'd felt it better to be out of the house and away from Marge's direct presence. He did gladly let his mother suffer Marge's full attention.
"This is boring..." Dudley grumbled, having nothing at hand to distract him.
He would not go into the house, as he could hear Marge lecturing his mother on something he didn't understand. That only left leaving the garden to find something to distract him on the street. He felt as long as he kept close to the house, it would be OK.
Walking through the gate, he stopped when seeing a kid leave the house next to theirs.
His parents had warned him repeatedly, that the men living next door were of a bad sort - which was confusing Dudley, since one of them was a policeman. That was why only rarely saw them, and that only from a distance. Nevertheless, since his parents said their neighbors were freaks, it had to be correct to his young mind.
The boy he saw now, however, he held little memory of. Boy, he looks so dorky!
The boy's hair looked like an untidy black mop and the glasses he was wearing made him look quite dumb to Dudley. He didn't care for details, however, as he just had found a convenient outlet for his bad mood, remembering his lessons from the playground. That, and even though he didn't realize it, to him the boy screamed 'ideal victim'.
His mind made up, he marched towards his target.
Harry for his part felt really proud when leaving the house of his uncles. When Veronica had shown him some letters of the alphabet some days ago as preparation for school, he'd complained they looked blurry. So they had his eyes checked out and, as it turned out, he was in need of glasses. They felt a bit alien to him, but he would surely get used to them quick enough. After getting the glasses today, he really wanted to show them to his Uncle Remus.
Granted, by now he knew they were not literally his uncles but very close friends of his parents. To Harry however that didn't matter, after all he'd known them for his whole life. Sirius of course wasn't home at this time, but Remus was, and Harry had shown him his new glasses, causing the man to comment there was a striking resemblance to his father, even at such a young age.
Harry didn't know what to make of this. After all, he still was too young to truly understand. He only knew that something horrible had happened to them, and they afterwards could no longer take care of him. His mind was incapable of thinking beyond that at the time. Nevertheless, deep inside he felt taking after his unknown father could be a good thing.
"Hey you!"
Looking to his right, Harry saw a fat boy approach. He vaguely recognized him as the kid of his uncles' neighbors. He'd only seen him from a distance, and never spoken to him at all. Harry did not like the look the fat boy gave him.
"Hello?" Harry asked.
Dudley got straight to the point. "I don't like you."
"Uh...?" Harry was thrown off by that statement.
"Are you stupid?" Dudley right then felt that this could be good. "Well, you do have that stupid thing on your nose."
"Take that back!" Harry gasped.
Dudley laughed cruelly. "I won't! You're an ugly dork wearing that stupid thing!"
Harry had never before in his life been exposed to such cruelty, so he was pretty much unprepared for it. He simply couldn't imagine that someone could be so mean to someone else. Sadly, this innocence was now getting seriously damaged by Dudley spotting him as an easy victim.
"No!" Dudley laughed, knowing he was the stronger one. "Let's see you without that ugly thing!"
Suddenly Dudley tried to slap Harry, and Harry, having not expected this, barely managed to dodge, falling in the process. He was starting to cry at how mean Dudley was, while the boy walked up to him, clearly for a second attempt. They boy's cruel laughter drove it home to Harry that not everyone was nice, thus destroying one illusion of young age.
"What do you think you are doing?!"
Harry saw to his relief that his Uncle Remus had left the house and now gave Dudley a harsh look. "Uncle Remus... he..." Harry stammered.
"Don't worry, Harry, I witnessed it through the window. Go inside, I'll take care of this," Remus told the young boy and Harry wasted no time to do so, feeling safe inside the house.
Dudley on the other hand now felt quite afraid when being confronted with this very displeased adult man. "You think it's funny to hurt others?" Remus asked Dudley. "You ever thought how it feels when it happens to you?"
"Keep away from my son!"
Of course Petunia kept eager watch at the window. I should have known, Remus thought without any surprise when seeing Petunia running to them, accompanied by a woman that looked like a female Vernon.
Remus however would not stand for that. "Well, if your son is in the habit of walking onto other people's property and bullying children, then I do see it fit to set him straight. Something you clearly neglected to do."
"My little Dudders would never do that." She of course said that despite having witnessed the entire thing. That was typical for her, even though she would deny it.
"What can you expect from such a lout without any class? Just look at the scars in his face and you know his character," the other woman - he was now sure she was one despite her sporting a mustache - said nastily.
"I agree fully, Marge. That's why I was watching them and good that I did so," Petunia said while checking on Dudley, despite him being the aggressor.
"Oh, that's rich," Remus snorted, his Marauder nature shining through. His scars were a sore point as well. "Lady, if I can even call you that, have you looked into the mirror? If there is any true low-class trash, you would embody it."
"You little cretin!" Marge cursed, waving her cane angrily, before realizing that she should cut her losses. "Come, Petunia, we don't have to listen to this reject of society!"
Watching them leave, he snorted. What a lovely family, he thought sarcastically.
He then quickly walked into his house. Priority now was to help Harry to calm down and come to terms with what just happened. Remus was angry that this incident destroyed part of Harry's innocence, despite him knowing it would have happened sooner or later. Leave it to Petunia's fat son to do the deed. He had a feeling it would become a recurring thing from now on.
to be continued...
Next Episode:
"Black Death"
Notes:
Here the notes.
I wanted to give a realistic view of Sirius getting the needed qualifications to enter police training - he managed to do so, but only with Remus' help and almost running himself into the ground. I also did research on English police and I also want to show the environment of the early 80s. I hope I did so well.
I hope you like the Snape scene. I knew I quickly had to do something to show the troubles that Snape is going through. I felt that unlike in canon, there's no way he would have been respected, and I show, why. I also used the chance to showcase why he's not suited to teach the younger years. Bill having a cameo was a bonus, since I realized that he should have started his first year.
Dumbledore in canon never saw Grindelwald again. However, since Dumbledore here started to think about his choices, I felt that him visiting Grindelwald in the process had to happen. That also gave me a chance to show what happened to magical Germany in the process - a big fear of the pure-bloods in Britain.