-----------------------> WHEN JAMES POTTER WAS SEVENTEEN, he achieved seven very important things. Firstly, he was an adult in the eyes of the magical law and could thus, legally drink. Second, because he was an adult in the eyes of the magical law, he could be sent to Azkaban and the prison cells below the Ministry of Magic should he be caught doing anything illegally (like being an unregistered animagus, for instance).
Thirdly, he wrote his Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests and passed with flying colours. Fourthly, he graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Fifthly, he entered a relationship with his long-time crush, Lily Evans.
Sixthly, he along with his best mate, Sirius Black, was accepted into the much-acclaimed Auror department and put under the terrifyingly wicked Deputy Head Auror, Alastor Moody. Seventhly, he along with his girlfriend, friends—brothers, really—and his best mate's girlfriend were recruited into a top-secret organisation headed by the recipient of the Order of Merlin first class, Albus Dumbledore, to fight against the Dark Lord.
Hence, he was practically bouncing on his feet—thank Merlin Lily appeared more fond than annoyed by his giddiness—as Headmaster Dumbledore let them in on the secret house enchanted to be invisible for all those without a password. James was bubbling with pride upon being trusted with such a secret, and by the faces of his friends, he deciphered they were as well.
The light June weather rained upon them as a modest, two-storey townhouse rippled into existence on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It did not look like the place hosting a resistance group against the Dark Lord, but he supposed that was the point.
Dumbledore smiled down at them, a vision of brightly odd robes and a matching, tall, pointy hat. "Shall we?" He gestured to the wooden door and it took every bit of willpower in James for him not to yell out a yes.
They marched to the wooden door which towered over them and Dumbledore knocked in a special set of patterns which James tried to memorise. A bit later, the door swung open and the short hair surrounding the familiar face of Maeve Macmillan smiled at them. "Hi."
"Maeve!" Halley practically jumped on her, capturing her into a hug, which Maeve returned instantly.
James lingered behind as she greeted everyone with a kind smile, seemingly not holding any hostile feelings despite the lot of them—bar Halley—engaging in a witch-hunt for her just six months ago. Headmaster Dumbledore ushered them in before closing the door.
When Maeve's eyes moved to him, James blurted out, "You have bangs now."
Maeve smiled at him, eyes soft. "I missed you too."
"But—why would you?" James looked genuinely confused and heartbroken. "I was awful to you," he continued, his voice pained. "Whether or not I realised it, I...I was horrible. I can't imagine how you must have felt. Why aren't you mad at me?"
Maeve shrugged her shoulders. "I was, at first. But I've been regularly visiting a Mind Healer for the past six months. At some point, I realised it doesn't matter whether I was right or wrong. At some point, being angry was just another bad habit, like smoking, and I kept poisoning myself without thinking about it. I'm rectifying it now."
"Thank you," he blurted out again. "And I'm so, so very sorry Maeve. I know that doesn't mean much given what I put you through—"
"It does," Maeve interrupted him. "It matters to me. I'm glad you recognised the error of your ways, even though it was rather late. I hope we—all of us," Maeve, for some reason, glanced at Headmaster Dumbledore as well as she spoke, "will be able to move on and come together to achieve something better."
"I—yes, of course," said James, on behalf of Sirius, Lily, Peter and Remus as well. "I'm sorry," he said again despite himself.
Maeve smiled at him. "Apology accepted. Now come on."
Halley had yet to let go of Maeve as she gave them a small tour of the townhouse, which apparently belonged to James' mentor on the Auror Force, Alastor Moody. Other than them, there weren't many people around. When he expressed that observation aloud, Headmaster Dumbledore informed him that most people only arrived when summoned, which they tended to do only occasionally at night.
He led them to the dining room. In the middle, stood a rickety, wooden table for twelve, which they filled into. At the midpoint of the table was a bowl of sweets, momentarily transporting him back to being a boy at Hogwarts, sitting in Headmaster Dumbledore's office as the old Professor asked him if he'd like sherbet lemons.
"Hey girl!" Moody called out gruffly, startling them as he barged into the dining room and seated himself.
Maeve sighed like James' mum did when she was exasperated with him. "I thought we established this, Mr Moody. My name is Maeve. It's one syllable and nearly impossible to pronounce incorrectly. Go on, try saying it."
Moody glared at her but when she remained unmoving, he begrudgingly bit out: "Maeve,"
Maeve grinned, prompting him with a wave of her hand to continue.
Moody narrowed his eyes on her as he said, "I heard you have a bounty on your head."
"Do I now?" Maeve leaned forward in anticipation, her hands placed on the table. "How much?"
"One thousand gallons," responded Moody and James' eyes widened, fear wrapping around his heart for his oldest friend.
Maeve frowned. "That's horrible," she stated. "I'm worth at least two thousand." She returned her focus on Moody. "How much is yours?"
Moody smiled smugly. "Two thousand five hundred."
Maeve looked outraged. "What! How come?"
"Guess I'm a bigger threat to Death Eaters than you are."
"That was rhetorical," she told Moody before turning to Dumbledore. "What's your bounty, sir?"
"Twenty thousand gallons," replied Dumbledore and Maeve's mouth dropped. "But I honestly don't think that our bounties are something to be compared—"
"Not fair." Maeve slumped to her seat, pouting as she looked at Moody. It was in these instances that her young age showed. "Just you wait. My bounty's going to grow higher than yours."
Moody snorted. "When I'm dead, sure, yes."
"That can be arranged."
Albus Dumbledore turned to the newcomers, smiling pleasantly. "It might not seem like it, but they actually like each other very much."
"We do not," said Moody hotly and Maeve, who had been nodding in agreement with Dumbledore's words suddenly began shaking her head in disagreement with the old Headmaster's words after Moody spoke.
"They do," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "In fact, Alastor is a shareholder in Maeve's newspaper, you see—"
"That's a financial investment, Albus, not proof that I enjoy the presence of the girl," Moody cut in and when Maeve kicked his leg from underneath the table, he amended his statement: "Maeve's presence. It's about bloody time we had a credible newspaper. That's all."
"I see," said Dumbledore in his professor voice, "and I suppose you had us throw that birthday party for Maeve last month because you don't like her as well."
"I didn't have you throw it!" Moody claimed loudly, rising from his seat. "All I did was let you know that it was the girl's—" Maeve arched her brow and that single movement of her facial features was enough for Moody to falter. He cleared his throat and stared down at Dumbledore. "I only told you that it was her birthday—something I got to know after I ran a background check on her and—"
"Hold on there," interjected Maeve. "You ran a background check on me?"
Moody scowled at her interruption. "When we first met, you knew too much about that bastard, his followers and so many others for my suspicions to not be flared up."
"Fair enough," conceded Maeve and motioned for him to continue his defence.
Moody turned back to Dumbledore. "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, all I did was casually tell you it was her birthday. It was you who decorated this place and Molly who made the cake. I didn't do anything."
"You gave her—I believe it is called a scope?" Dumbledore glanced at Maeve for confirmation and when she nodded, he beamed and resumed speaking: "You gave her plenty of scopes and an interview."
"The new Minister is encouraging friendly relations with the press," gritted Moody. "And she is the press, is she not?"
Maeve smiled at him. "I adore you too, Mr Moody."
Moody threw his hands in the air. "I don't—"
"Anyway," Dumbledore said, cutting off Moody and smiling at those who had newly joined the Order of the Phoenix. "Thank you all for being here. We'll be starting in a bit—there are still few to arrive. Oh, how rude of me, would you like an acid pop?"
All of them, even Sirius, shook their heads and politely declined.
In a union, Moody and Maeve reached for the bowl of acid pops situated at the centre of the table and picked up a couple each and stored them in the pockets of their robes.
"It's better if you take some now," advised Maeve sagely. "These meetings sometimes go on for so long and get so very boring—no offence, Headmaster—that burning your tongue is the only way to stay awake."
Moody grunted in agreement.
James traded a glance with Sirius and they both picked up an acid pop each. The rest of the Marauders along with Lily and Halley followed them.
A tense silence embraced the table as Maeve stared at a spot on the wall, her face deep in thought, and Dumbledore mirrored her expression from where he sat directly opposite to her. Moody, who sat adjacent to Maeve and opposite James, glared at everyone and everywhere.
Peter had taken to fidgeting, unsure of what to do and James couldn't blame him. When he joined the Order, he had assumed there would be a lot more action and a lot less silence. Remus was tapping his fingers on the table, a faraway look in his eyes while Halley and Sirius were holding hands under the table even as their eyes exchanged a nonverbal conversation.
James wished he could do the same with Lily, but unlike Halley and Sirius who were now dating for the second time, James and Lily weren't that comfortable with each other yet, and James didn't want to push his boundaries with her. His past, cruel behaviour with Maeve had taught him better.
Clueless on what to do, James took to observing the dining room of the townhouse. Although the windows had been thrown open and plenty of light streamed in, shadows still stubbornly clung to the nook and corners. An unlit crystal chandelier hung above him and through the space provided under the archway, he could see children playing in the living room. However, considering their chatter didn't carry despite the two rooms being so close, James deduced that a privacy charm had been applied to each of the rooms.
Maeve broke the quietude abruptly as she casually said: "There's going to be an attack soon."
Sharp breaths were inhaled around the table, but it was only Dumbledore who gained his voice to ask: "Is Everybody sure about this?"
"Yes?" James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, Halley and the other newcomers responded hesitantly.
"He's not talking to you lot," piqued Moody, snorting. "Everybody is the name given to Maeve's source among Death Eaters. The girl—Maeve," he reluctantly corrected himself under the heat of Maeve's glare, "refuses to disclose their name."
"Sources must be protected," chimed Maeve in her defence. "You're an Auror, Mr Moody. Surely you know that as well as I do."
Moody grunted. "Well, yes, but after they're done with their use, they ought to be thrown into prison. Source or not, they chose to be a bloody Death Eater."
"Whistle-blower Protection Act passed by the Ministry of Magic a few years ago," said Maeve in a sing-song voice.
"Only applies to organisations," retorted Moody.
"And the sources of journalists," added a grinning Maeve before she swivelled to Dumbledore. "Yes, Everybody is sure. Unless we have a spy present in this room who'll tell You Know Who that we know what they know and then, there'll be a change. Which is why," her eyes slid to them, "I'd rather tell you—"
Moody coughed pointedly.
"—and Moody," Maeve acknowledged. "About this. Separately."
"I trust everyone in this room, Maeve," said Dumbledore, his voice containing an edge.
"But I don't trust them with Everybody's life," said Maeve sharply and it stung like a hippogriff's tale for all those who had newly joined had known Maeve personally and been good friends with her.
However, Maeve paid their feelings no mind. Her eyes were set with steel on Dumbledore. "Every time they tell me something, their life is at risk. They nearly got caught last time because you insisted on—" Maeve cut herself off, and closed her eyes. She took a few moments to compose herself, then flashed her eyes open. "Separately, Headmaster. And neither you nor Moody can tell anyone anything that I don't allow you to, and every plan or decision you take will be run through me first. Or I'm not telling anything. I've risked Everybody enough."
Dumbledore pursed his lips and finally nodded his head. "Very well, Maeve." He rose from his chair in a flurry of vibrant, orange robes and moved towards upstairs.
Maeve also stood up, biting her lip with furrowed brows and clutching journals to her chest as she trailed after the old Headmaster. Unlike a few seconds earlier where she had looked ready to spit acid like the sweets she carried in the pockets of her robes, Maeve had reverted to the girl who named a puppy she was allergic to as Mr Puppy and wrote the silliest stories.
Moody shadowed the two of them, grunting and muttering things under his breath the entire time.
Frank Longbottom, who had joined the forces two years before James and was also in Moody's team, stretched and relaxed. "They won't be back for a long while," he informed them. "But best we be here when they do. They'll have long instructions to miraculously make a frankly," he smiled faintly at his pun, "ridiculous plan work."
"Does this always happen?" Halley asked. "The three of them practically making all the decisions and us following them even though we're supposed to be a group?"
"Pretty much," said Alice, Frank's wife and one of the best Aurors on the team as she slid into the seat Maeve had previously occupied.
Lily frowned. "Headmaster Dumbledore and Auror Moody I can understand...but why Maeve?"
Frank shrugged. "Maeve's the whole reason why we've actually been doing something. Short of Professor Dumbledore, she's probably the most important person here. She's the one with a spy. She's the one with all the information. She might not share much with us but they're vital to creating strategies to combat You-Know-Who."
"Plus," added Alice. "The three of them—they make a good mini-team. Moody's rather extreme." She hesitated. "And—I greatly respect Professor Dumbledore but he's too..." She searched for the right word and when she couldn't find it, she changed her sentence. "He's focused more on the grand scheme of things. He's fine with the sacrifices made now if it means there'll be peace later. Maeve is concerned more about those sacrifices, so she'll talk him out of using people like chess pieces for the most part and threaten to leave if he ever dares to use the words 'for the greater good'." Her lips curled into a smile.
"It's a joke now, of sorts," Frank filled them in. "There are even bets on whether or not Maeve will hex Professor Dumbledore—or really, anyone—who says that. So, like, don't."
"For your safety, really," said Alice. "She actually does hex people when she's in a bad mood."
"Which was the entire election month."
Alice snorted. "We were sent to guard the new Minister, Frank—can you blame her for being so sour? That woman asked us, wizards trained to catch Dark Wizards, to fetch her tea. Tea!"
"Alice framed the article Maeve released about her the next day," said Frank, a glint sparkling in his eyes.
James, who had almost obsessively been keeping up with the Quibbler ever since it was released, knew exactly which article Frank was referring to and winced. In it, Maeve had somehow maintained a neutral perspective while not mincing her words one bit.
"And," continued Frank, "it's rather hilarious, really, watching Molly look torn between supporting Maeve or supporting Professor Dumbledore." He nodded to a red-haired witch sitting at a distance and holding two bundles while three equally red-haired boys ran around her. Frank's voice lowered as he said, "Apparently, there'd been an attack a few months ago. Maeve and her friend had helped them and, well—"
"The friend hadn't made it out," Halley choked out, her voice thick and the wound still fresh. Sirius took her hand in his and squeezed her in comfort.
Frank appeared sad and Alice nudged him with her elbow, throwing a sharp look in his direction which turned him sheepish. Then, she refocused on them, smiling faintly. "I'm sorry. I remember how lost Frank and I were when we first joined the Order." She didn't mention how Maeve had adapted as easily as a chameleon to her surroundings. "And we wanted to help out. I'm sorry we brought up bad memories."
"No, i-it's alright," said Halley, sniffing as she offered them a smile that didn't reach her glassy eyes. "I—we—appreciate you doing this for us."
"It's hard not to feel hurt when your friend doesn't include you," said Alice and James realised she had noticed their expressions earlier. "But, promise, we're more fun than those three anyway. Like I said, those three take an awfully long time to come to a decision agreed on by all three of them, so in the meantime, the rest of us have plenty of things to keep ourselves occupied. You won't need to rely on acid pops to keep yourselves awake," she grinned, tossing them a wink.
Sirius laughed. "I'm looking forward to it then."
"But I have a question," said Remus, speaking up for the first time. When Frank motioned for him to go on, he asked, "With Maeve's spy...Why call them Everybody? Is it because of her being Somebody?"
"I thought so initially too," admitted Frank. "I was even a little starstruck—"
Alice snorted. "A little?"
"Considerably starstruck—"
"Only considerably?"
"Oh, alright! Immensely starstruck when I found out she was Somebody. Happy now, Alice?"
"Immensely, sweetheart," said Alice with an all too innocent look.
Frank levelled a heatless glare at her before turning back to Remus. "Yeah, anyway, as I was saying, I asked Maeve the same question that's on your mind and she said something about how it was to deflect suspicion." He looked to Alice for help, struggling with an explanation.
Alice jumped in: "it's like, if she says, 'Everybody told me this' or 'Everybody isn't ready' you'll be expecting her to talk about the general population rather than a particular person, so it won't attract much attention. There's an added benefit of not having any gender, race, identity or age associated with that word which suggests that Everybody could be—well, everybody."
Remus nodded his head, satisfied with the answer he received.
There was a heartbeat of silence before James broke it. "So," he began, "what do you do around here when the trio are consuming acid pops upstairs?"
"You know," Frank mused instead, "we—all the younger members, that is, I'll introduce you all to them when they arrive—had a very serious," here he grinned at Sirius who reflected his glee, "debate on what to call the trio. We initially settled on M.A.M: Moody, Albus and Maeve." He winced. "Then there was M.A.A: Maeve, Alastor and Albus; and finally, we settled on MAD: Maeve, Alastor and Dumbledore."
"I like it," said James. "It has a nice ring to it."
"Right?" Alice beamed. "Now, come along. I'll show you all the wagers we have in place till the M.A.D come down."
"Thank you," said Lily politely and so, the waiting game began.
≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪
BONUS — TWO WEEKS AGO:
"Do you really like chamomile?" asked Maeve, wrinkling her nose as she set down her chamomile tea on the side-desk and she watched Regulus do the same. It had been six months since they'd physically been in the same place together—the last time had been before New Year.
Constantly exchanging letters regarding the Dark Lord during that period had made Regulus' friends believe he was speaking with his girlfriend, and Maeve and he had just shared a laugh over his response, which had been a mysterious smirk as he told his friends: "She's not my girlfriend. She's just...somebody I know."
Regulus had purposefully left out the part after that, when his mates at Slytherin had endlessly teased and mocked him for apparently, clearing fancying somebody. That was until Regulus had casually twirled his wand as the tip of it glowed a bright, sickly purple.
They were seated with folded legs on the bed at the guest room of Maeve's house, where Regulus frequently floo'd into after the summer had begun a day ago and had all but claimed the room as his own, with the starry pillow Maeve had sewed for him being part of the pillow arrangements.
"Of course," responded Regulus with ease. "You don't?"
"It's not chocolate pudding," she said like it answered everything.
Regulus nodded his head gauntly like it had, picking up his teacup again and sipping it. "Is it alright if we play another Snap tournament tonight? Perhaps, I might take pity on you and allow you to beat me."
Maeve shot him a look. "Wow, how kind of you to do so."
"Aren't I?"
"An honorary Hufflepuff," agreed Maeve, pulling her legs from underneath her to hug them. She placed her chin on the soft material of her trousers. "This is probably quite random, but I never really asked why you called yourself Everybody."
"You didn't."
"And?" Maeve prompted.
Regulus hid a smile behind his teacup and tried to keep his voice even. "It's after you."
"After me?"
"You called yourself 'Somebody' like you're impersonal, or just one faceless person among the crowd. But," Regulus turned away from her. "But to me...You're everybody."
Maeve's lips parted, her eyes widening as she struggled to find words. It was Regulus' mercy that Maeve's mother had called her down then, reminding her that she had to leave immediately to reach the Mind Healer's office on time for her appointment.
"This conversation isn't over," said Maeve as she jumped out of the bed, approaching the full-sized mirror situated at the crook of two walls to check her appearance.
"I know it isn't," said Regulus. "Bye, have fun."
Maeve flashed him a smile as she walked out the door. "Bye. Don't have too much fun without me."
"Wouldn't dream of it," said Regulus.
But when Maeve returned an hour later, eyes rimmed red even as she looked lighter, they didn't talk about it. Instead, they gathered with Maeve's parents outside near the fountains and played Snap. Regulus won again.