"De-Dementors?" whispered Lily, looking up with fearful eyes at James, whose face was pale. "Dementors...with Harry...what? How?"
"I think the correct question is why" said Sirius grimly, yanking Mundungus up by the collar of his robes, and looking around the square outside furtively, before slamming the door. He stormed through to the kitchen, everyone hurrying along behind him, and pushed the unconscious crook roughly into a chair.
"Enervate" he said, pointing his wand into his face, and Mundungus' eyes opened again, going wide as he took in the worried faces around him.
"Mundungus, what's happened to Harry?" said Arthur, stepping forward. Molly was clutching his arm desperately, her face showing open concern, and a little way behind her the children were all watching anxiously. Mundungus looked at Arthur, before eyeing Sirius' wand – still pointed at him – and gulping.
"Well, it was a very good business deal yuh see, and I couldna' just -" Mundungus' words faultered as he saw the murderous looks he was receiving.
"Do you mean to say, Mundungous Fletcher, that you left Harry, alone and unprotected, because you spotted a business opportunity?" came a deep voice. Everyone jumped as Albus Dumbledore, who had been watching from the sidelines, stepped forward, his own wand out. Mundungus looked terrified.
"Well -" he stammered, "I mean – Well, he weren't so unprotected and alone and all that, I mean ol' Figgy was there an' all, wa'nt she?" He quailed under Dumbledore's furious look. The old headmaster had remained visibly calm; however, his eyes were burning, and in his anger he seemed to radiate power.
"Mundungus Fletcher, you know perfectly well that Ms. FIgg is a squib." He ignored Mundungus' frightened gulp, and began pacing.
"So you left Harry – then what happened?"
"Well, I don't know exac'ly wha' happened, 'cause I wa'nt there -" More growls followed this statement. The furious expression Sirius wore reminded Ron and Hermione forcibly of the expression he had worn in the Shrieking Shack, when he had wanted to kill Wormtail – and James' expression was similarly frightening. However, both, like Lily, had concern in their eyes. Mundungus hurried on.
"But from wha' Figgy said, there were Dementors – they came after 'Arry and his cousin (the fat muggle) and 'Arry fought 'em off" Dumbledore's mad look was replaced by a weary expression, and he ran a hand wearily over his face.
"So Harry used magic?" he asked, although everyone already knew the answer. Suddenly he snapped into action.
"Okay, Remus, Bill, contact the Order. Harry will probably have got his letter by now, so try to hurry. Arthur, Sirius - one of you write to Harry. Make sure he doesn't do any further magic, and make sure he doesn't leave the house. I'm going to go straight to the Ministry now." Dumbledore clapped his hands together, and those with instructions everyone shook themselves and set about doing as he had commanded. He turned to leave.
Remus gave both Potters a quick, tight hug, before heading towards the door, giving Sirius a gentle nudge, who looked reluctant to leave. Sirius took a last, long look at his two friends, then clapped James on the shoulder and quickly left the room. Lily and James looked on in horror at the retreating figures, terrified bewilderment settling over them.
"But – wait!" Lily cried fervently, "What letter? Albus, what's happening to my son?" Dumbledore looked around, gazing at Lily, before hurrying over to her once more.
"Lily," he said softly, looking up to include James in the conversation as well, "I have to go. Harry's used under-age magic, he will have already got his letter expelling him from Hogwarts -" Lily and James both gasped.
"But it was in self defence -" began James. "They can't expel him just like that, they need to hear all the facts! Besides, he should only get a warning on his first offence anyway -"
"I'm afraid the Ministry are rather more corrupt than in your day, James, and rather more likely to expel innocent students. Also, I'm afraid Harry's already had a warning, at the beginning of his second year." Lily and James looked as though they wanted to ask more, but Dumbledore held up his hands. "I really must go" he said swiftly, before he was gone from the room.
"Oh my" said Molly anxiously, looking around at the remaining faces in the room, before hurrying out after her husband. Lily sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs, and James began pacing. In the confusion Mundungus Fletcher had seen fit to scurry from the room, and was now nowhere to be seen. Hermione stepped forward cautiously, Ron close at her heels, and put a hand on Lily's shoulder.
"It'll be okay Mrs P- Lily. Dumbledore's still got a lot of influence at the ministry, even if Fudge is acting a bit stupid – okay very stupid" she amended under Ron's scoff "– at the moment. . . Cornelius Fudge is the prime-minister" she explained at James's questioning glance. "But there's no way they can expel Harry," she continued in a hurry, "I'm sure I've heard of some exception in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Under-age Sorcery about magic being permitted if the student's life is in danger. . ." she continued to mutter to herself as she nodded her head decidedly and began to hurry out of the kitchen. Ron gazed after her with a bemused expression.
"Where are you going?!" he exclaimed, and she looked back briefly.
"To look it up!" she explained, as though stating the obvious, before disappearing through the door. Ron shook his head in apparent exasperation, before sitting down at the table next to Lily and resting his chin in his hands. The twins perched themselves on the kitchen counter, facing them, and Ginny curled up in a chair with Crookshanks on her lap, burying her face in his fur. There was silence for a while. Despite the tension Lily noticed that all of the room's remaining occupants were shooting furtive looks at her and her husband - except for the twins, who were staring unashamedly - as though they they still didn't quite trust what their eyes were telling them. Lily cleared her throat.
"So," she said, in attempt to alleviate the tension, "how did you meet Harry?" Ron laughed.
"Oh, just shared a carriage on the Hogwarts Express. When he arrived at the station, he didn't know how to get on to the platform, so he asked us – of course Mum took him under her wing immediately, and showed him how to get through to platform 9 and ¾. Then these two -" he jerked a thumb at the twins, "helped him with his trunk, and found out he was Harry Potter, and I...uh... happened to choose his carriage." Ron coughed slightly, and the tips of his ears went slightly pink. The twins chortled. "We became friends over shared sweets and talk of quidditch."
Lily smiled and sighed wearily. She could feel some of the tension lift from her heart already, as her husband moved over to stand beside her, kissing the top of her head and taking her hand. She would just have to trust, and to hope; trust the others to help her son - and hope that her little boy would be okay until she could finally hold him in her arms again.
***
James hurried through the narrow corridors of number twelve Grimmauld place, and made his way quickly up the dark staircase. Everything was quiet now. The rush of feet that had been pattering up and down the many flights of stairs had abated, and James had decided that his self-induced solidarity could now be safely broken. Neither James nor Lily, nor any of the children had wanted to get in the way, and so had kept themselves occupied in the kitchen, talking, pacing, and wondering what was happening in the rest of the house. Now James had had enough of 'keeping out of the way', and was on a mission to find out what was to happen to his son.
He made his way to the top of the house, where - he remembered from Sirius' meagre descriptions of the house all those years ago - his friend's bedroom was. Being in this house was unnerving - James wasn't whether he liked it or not. He felt as though he were being given an insight into the small boy he had met on the train so many years ago.
The dark walls towered over him, seeming to lean in as though threatening to collapse on top of him. The grim pictures that adorned their grey silk screamed of everything that James hated about the dark arts. The small windows were so grimy that little light was able to permeate into the dark corridors stretching out in front of him. And yet, James felt as though he were seeing another side to his friend.
Sirius was rash, and often immature. He liked a laugh as much as any of the marauders - possibly more so when it came to Remus and Peter - but had been known to occasionally take practical jokes too far. He had a sullen side too, though. Sometimes, when he thought no-one was looking, Sirius would withdraw into himself, becoming moody and glowering at everything in sight. He was fiercely loyal to his friends, and incredibly defensive of anything that threatened that friendship. He often took things too hard, and could hold a grudge indefinitely. But this was a mere snapshot of his friends life. James knew that, without understanding Sirius' childhood, none of his actions could ever really make sense. He closed his eyes as he remembered that first meeting on the train, so long ago.
Someone was already sitting in the compartment when James got back. Presumably the owner of the luggage over his head, the new boy was lounging casually in his seat, watching as the scenery outside flew by faster and faster as the train sped out of the station. Compared to James' thin figure, he was slightly stockier, but already developing handsome looks. His dark hair fell around his face with an elegance James' could never hope to achieve, and his face held a slight smirk. Not, James thought, an arrogant look; more just as though he knew who he was and was pleased with himself that way.
The boy looked up when James slid the compartment door open, and gave a lopsided grin.
"Hey" he said, as James sat down in the seat opposite him.
"Hey" James replied, gazing curiously at the boy. He stuck out his hand. "I'm James Potter. Yes," he joked, "one of the Potters."
"Never heard of them" the boy smirked, grasping James hand. "Sirius Black. One of the Blacks." James grinned as his own joke was thrown in his face. "Unfortunately." Sirius continued.
James raised an eyebrow at his companion, but Sirius just shrugged and looked away.
"So are you excited about Hogwarts?" Sirius asked. James nodded enthusiastically, reclining back in his chair into a similar position as Sirius.
"Oh yeah - I've been waiting for this for years!" He thought for a moment, head cocked to one side. "Maybe not the school aspect." he added as an afterthought. "I could probably live without that." Sirius laughed and nodded.
"A man after my own heart" he proclaimed melodramatically, wiping a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. James snorted, but continued as though uninterrupted.
"But the castle! There's supposed to be secret passageways round every corner - and moving staircases, and hidden rooms...I want to discover it all!" Sirius nodded enthusiastically, and took up James' spiel.
"And suits of armour that move...and ghosts! You ever actually seen a ghost?"
"Well," James contemplated. "There's supposed to be the ghost of my great-great-great something or other Grandfather haunting the Potter mansion...but he keeps himself to himself. I'd like to think I've seen him a few times - especially after all the time I spent searching for him - but nothing conclusive. How about you? Surely the Black manor's swarming with ghosts?" The boy shook his head.
"We don't live in the Black Mansion any more - we've got a large town house in London. We still have to visit the estate at Christmas and stuff, but my cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa's family live there full time. Anyway, no dead relatives of ours would ever like Mum enough to stick around. Sure, the house elves love her - and Dad, and Regulus for that matter - but I personally think they're mental."
Remus, of course, could feel the most empathy for Sirius. Although loved very much by both his mother and his father, Remus' childhood had been marred by his 'furry little problem', and his family were never well-off, financially wise. He never had the best things, and was used to being shunted to the side, being second best.
James, on the other hand, had had a perfect childhood: he had the best of everything; his parents were wonderful people; his family were incredibly wealthy; and he was surrounded by people who loved - no, adored - him. But James could sympathize, even if he could not empathize, and he knew Sirius so well that he was the only one who truly understood what he needed. When he needed to be left alone, when he needed someone to comfort him, when he needed someone to laugh with; when he needed, simply, to be reminded of how much he was loved.
Ironically enough, James thought, Peter never did not have that bond. Sirius had once joked that he had the social skills of a flobberworm. Although he meant well, Peter never knew what to do, or say, to help his friends. He merely stood on the sidelines offering petty condolences. Of course, no-one begrudged him this, and Sirius certainly never blamed him, but James wondered whether, even back then, his friend didn't love them quite as much as he was loved by them.
However, when it came to Sirius' childhood, Number 12, Grimmauld Place was like a pensieve, almost dripping with memories of long ago. Simply from walking through its hall, or gazing at the macabre row of beheaded elves, James felt as though he could understand more where his friend came from, and he was both upset and morbidly fascinated by the results. More of his friend had been revealed in the short time that James had been in the house than he had gathered in almost a decade from the small snippets Sirius had revealed about his home life. And James knew that, if he felt this way after such a short time in it, staying in this place for so long must be hell for Sirius. The man couldn't have changed so much in fourteen years that James didn't know this much.
Reaching the top of the stairs, James shook his head to relieve himself of the sombre thoughts. He looked at the two doors: one marked with a pompous little sign, declaring it to be the room of 'Regulus Arcturus Black', and the other with a sign that stated, very clearly, that the room belonged to Sirius Black, with a footnote declaring the resident's love for Gryffindor.
James grinned, and pushed open the door.
___
The flashback section on the Hogwarts Express was actually an extract from a story I started a while ago about the Marauders' time at Hogwarts. Since I never even finished the first chapter of that fic, I thought it would make quite a nice insert here instead.