The Furry Little Problem - Marauders Era

Let The Dead Be Dead

"Mister James Potter?" A gruff voice commanded through the bustling crowd of Platform 9 ¾, effectively calling for James and Sirius' full attention. Their eyes scanned the man from the tip of his shoes to the brim of his hat, he stood two feet taller than the boys with a thick ashy mustache perched below his nose. A heavy purple cloak hung from his shoulders and underneath was a nicely tailored pinstripe suit with a glinting badge attached to his belt.

What would an Auror want with us? James thought, protectively standing in front of Sirius in the off chance that this was about him leaving and abandoning his family at Grimmauld Place. "That's me," He confirmed. "Is everything alright, sir?" James followed up.

The Auror extended his hand and immediately shook James' and Sirius' entire arm before they fully extended it for him. "My name is Coriolanus Finch, I'm an Auror and I just received a welfare call for your home a few hours ago."

"Welfare call? Are my parents – "

"They have been safely transported to St. Mungo's for further treatment," Mister Finch notified. "The stars were in their good graces, the potion they had taken can be easily detoxified from their bloodstream. I reckon they'll be in tip-top shape by three days' time."

Sirius held James' shoulder, now standing by his side. "What happened that a welfare call was needed in the first place? They're the most social beings in the neighborhood, they can't last a day trapped in their house." He said with a shaking voice. He might not carry their blood, but he still considered the Potters as his own true family. And for Sirius to hear that they had to be rushed to a hospital...

The Auror looked around the train station and instantly herded the boys to the parking lot where they were led to a black town car. "It's best that we discuss the details in private, lads. We'll talk on the way to your house."

"Why not to the hospital?" James questioned, lugging their trunks to the boot of the car. "My friend – Anne Harris, she's living with my family now. Is she in the hospital too? Or is she waiting at home?"

His face paled at the mention of the girl's name, a clear blue sign that the worst was yet to come. James and Sirius fell into an eerie silence during the entire car ride, their eyes blankly leeched to the window, focusing on the blurred colors of the other vehicles that they had passed. The boys refused to digest the information given to them by the Auror, and so they were subjected to listen to his report.

"Your neighbor, Mrs. Goldsworth, she noticed that your lawn was overgrown and littered with unopened newspapers. The mailbox was also stuffed and untouched. No lights have been on within the household. And no one has answered knocks or doorbells." Mister Finch told them while he flipped through a mass of paperwork and photographs to show the boys. "We took the liberty of going in, and much to our surprise, the door was already unlocked. It didn't take long to find your parents, Mister Potter. They were sleeping soundly in their beds, far too soundly if I should say so myself. We've sent for forensic on the teacups by their beds and found traces of a potion that's commonly used for setting unicorns and other large creatures into a medically induced coma."

"Merlin's beard," James muttered in anguish, hanging his head back. "But you said they were alright?"

"That they are," Mister Finch confirmed. "We then sent them to St. Mungo's where they indeed said they can reverse the effects. After that, we searched the entire house to see if another victim had fallen into the coma, but we only learned that you and Mister Sirius Black here have been in Hogwarts." He paused heavily, his hand pressing against the topmost photo. "And that Miss Anne Harris had been taken under the Potters' custody earlier this year. She, however, left shortly."

"How shortly are we talking about," Sirius asked, finally letting himself be released from his denial. "When did she leave?"

The man held out a photo of a bunch of sealed envelopes on a writing desk. All of which were signed and dated by Anne's quill. "It seems like Miss Harris left at the same time the Potters were lulled to their hibernation. We're waiting on word from the Healers if they could estimate when your parents had drunk the potion, although I'm not sure if we ought to wait since there is a staggering amount of evidence – "