After the party in James' room, the five Marauders went downstairs. Euphemia was in the living room, reading the Daily Prophet; whilst Fleamont was occupied in the kitchen — making shepherd's pie. For some reason, Mrs. Potter seemed to be reading the newspaper with rapt attention compared to the numerous times that she so often scanned the paper. She didn't usually think highly of the Daily Prophet; it often lied about certain topics in order to appease people, but something seemed to have caught her interest.
"Harold Minchum — the recently appointed Minister of Magic — has decided to place more dementors around Azkaban prison...
Many wizards believe that he is the most likely candidate to stop you-know-who's rise to power, but recent sightings have suggested otherwise. Twenty muggles have been killed in the last twenty hours alone by multiple Death Eaters (followers of you-know-who that typically bore masks and wear Death Marks on their left arms. See picture below). Many are worried about the the future of the wizarding world if these attacks continue to happen."
The room went eerily quiet as everyone crowded over to where Mrs. Potter was, reading the paper for any other details that it could possibly include. When there weren't any mentions of anyone that they knew from school, they all released deep breaths. The whole thing was terrible, but if something were to happen to the Evans...
Aurelia looked away, eyes dark. She would not think like that. Lily was going to survive the war. Everyone was going to survive. Alice, Dorcas, Emmeline, Marlene... They were all going to live until they grew old and died of natural causes or old age.
"I finished making dinner!" Mr. Potter said, trying to sound cheery to lighten everyone's moods.
All seven of them engaged themselves in conversations about school and home. Aurelia noticed that Sirius seemed a lot happier than he did a year ago, and she wondered whether it was all because he finally felt like he had a family; a home. She frowned, wondering how Regulus was doing, wondering what he thought about the muggle attacks. Aurelia doubted that he would care. They were muggles; they were inferior to him in his eyes — a waste of space.
After having shepherd's pie they had treacle tart, and according to Fleamont it was James' favorite food.
"If I have a child that doesn't like treacle tart I will disown him — or her," James claimed obnoxiously, eating his tenth piece.
"Not something to joke about, mate," Sirius said, who happened to be eating his fair share as well.
"I feel the same way, but only if it's with chocolate," Aurelia commented.
Remus enthusiastically nodded his head in agreement.
Peter shrugged, "Personally I think cheese is the best."
"We all know why," Sirius said.
Euphemia and Fleamont shared confused glances. "Is this some sort of inside joke?"
"It could be considered as one," Aurelia answered mischievously.
"So, Aurelia," started Fleamont, "what did you do over the summer?"
"Oh, nothing much, other than hanging out with Lily. I did get some chocolate from someone — which I was very much pleased about, for obvious reasons. I don't know who exactly sent them, but the thought was extremely kind."
"Looks like someone has themselves a secret admirer," Peter snickered.
Sirius did not look the least bit pleased. "What if the chocolate was poisoned?"
Aurelia stared blankly at him. "Do you often get poisoned chocolate on a regular basis?"
"No, but—"
"Besides," Aurelia continued, "I already ate it and I'm perfectly fine."
Remus looked at Aurelia in disbelief. "You are the least fine person I've ever met."
Aurelia gasped. "Rude!"
"Who was it from?" James questioned.
"Someone who's initials are 'R.A.B.'"
"And you have no idea who this person is?"
"I know who it is," Sirius said, his grey eyes stormy. "Why my dear brother of course. Regulus Arcturus Black."