The Marauders: Year Seven Part One

Protection

Dumbledore reached into his robes, "Speaking of which." He produced a small vial.

Garm lunged from the chaise and took the little bottle in his palm, staring at it with awe in his eyes, almost hungrily. Frek stared at it, too, from his position a few paces back. Garm looked up from the bottle in his fingers, eyes meeting the Headmaster's. "I must say, though, I'm rather disappointed." He turned the bottle over in his hands and then held it up for Dumbledore to look at. "Could you spare it?"

"That's all that Horace has been able to produce yet," Dumbledore replied.

Garm raised an eyebrow. "Your bloody potions master can't brew potions?"

"It's rather impressive rather that he's produced that much already," Dumbledore said, and he plucked up the bottle from Garm's palm. "Damacoles is a very busy man, Mr. Tyr." Dumbledore smiled gently. "You'll have the full dosage by the time it is needed. For now, this shall serve as your retainer." Dumbledore handed back the little vial. 

Garm stared at the glowing blue in the glass vial, turning it over in hus palm again. Finally, he looked up. "How does Remus Lupin --"

"As we have already discussed," Dumbledore said quietly, "Leave Remus Lupin and his transformations utterly in my care. Do not hinder the boy, or there will be trouble for you. Trust me."

Garm breathed deeply. "It's awfully hard to trust an old man who has let down so many in the past. Your word isn't what it used to be, Dumbledore."

"Indeed, I'm not what I used to be," he replied.

Garm studied the bottle without looking at Dumbledore.

"I must say, I was hoping you'd be a bit more excited about having the first installment of your payment up front," Dumbledore said with a sigh, "Because it makes what I'm about to say that much more difficult."

Garm looked up, closing his fist around the vial. A second later, when he opened his palm back up, the vial was gone. Frek sat back down at his table with the puzzle, and spent a good deal of time placing pieces. Garm glanced at Frek, then back to Dumbledore, his mouth looked like he'd bit into something sour. "What do you want now?"

Dumbledore replied, simply, "Your protection."

Lily stood at the head of the table in Gryffindor Common room, James hovering right behind her. Dexter, Ollie, and Wally were all three at the table - loyal to their ever growing study group, along with a couple of second years, and all of the new Gryffindor firsties. and the new prefects - Ann Phil and James Zimmerman. Lily smiled about at them, emotional, and James squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "You're just all getting so big, I can't believe it," she murmured.

Ollie said, "I'm still small."

"You're not small," Wally said.

"I am," Ollie replied.

"You're a third year," said James Zimmerman, "You're supposed to be small."

"Excellent answer, Zimmerman," James said, grinning.

"Thanks Potter," Zimmerman answered, grinning right back. 

"I was small when I was a third year too," James said, turning to Ollie, "So was Sirius, Remus, and Peter."

"But you're SO BIG NOW," Dexter said.

James said, "I mean, it's what happens, little man."

"As you know, my fellow prefect and I have run a homework group for the last two years," Lily said, "Of course now it's a bit different, since I'm Headgirl, I've got other duties during this hour, but I do hope you lot will carry on with the group. I think it really helps with exams and the sort..."