Adding a small postscript about her owl being too small to carry the broom, she tied the missive to Snitch’s leg and spoke softly to him, “I have your first message, Snitch and it’s an important one. It’s for Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts. Do you know who I mean?”
Snitch clicked his beak and, without a backward glance, set off. Lily did not expect him back soon, but left her window open just in case he returned before morning. At around three in the morning, Lily was roused by a flurry of wings landing on the window. She looked up to see Professor McGonagall’s tawny owl, Metis, watching her. Hastily, Lily got up and took the letter from the bird’s leg.
Miss Evans, she read.
Thank you very much for your information. I gather from your letter that James’ accident was indeed no accident, which was rather what Professor Dumbledore and I suspected. My owl will be able to carry the broom to me and then I shall inform Mr Potter that we have recovered his ‘pride and joy’.
I will not press you at this time to reveal the names of the perpetrators, but I may have to ask you again if they do not come forward.
My regards,
Professor McGonagall.
Reaching under her bed, Lily brought out the broom and handed it to the owl. Clutching it in her talons, Metis flew off once more into the night. Lily watched as her pale tail feathers flashed in the moonlight. Suddenly, she was reminded of Rich’s dazzling smile and wondered for the hundredth time if she’d ever see him again.
On the first of September, James and Sirius were sitting at the breakfast table working their way through one of Sukey the house-elf’s amazing breakfasts. Sirius helped himself to more bacon and, using a slice of bread, mopped up the egg from the side of his plate.
“Prongs, how about,” he said as he finished his mouthful, “we get to King’s Cross ourselves this year?”
“Why?”
“Could be fun? We could pretend to be Muggle-borns,” he replied, swiping the last piece of sausage from James’ plate.
“Oy! I was saving that for last, you git,” James protested.
Sirius stuck his tongue out to reveal the chewed sausage on his tongue. “D’you want it back?” he asked, avoiding James’ punch. He swallowed the sausage. “Seriously, Prongs. Why don’t we get to King’s Cross ourselves? Give your mum a chance to rest.”
“Mum, rest? That’ll be a first.” He chewed on the last piece of toast. “Why are you so obsessed with Muggle stuff at the moment, Padfoot?”
Sirius scraped his plate clean and then pushed it away from him. “This will be the first year I haven’t had to go with my parents to King’s Cross, so I want to do something different. First of September at Grimmauld Place was planned like a military operation. Reg and I had to be up, washed, and packed before eight. Then we’d all sit down to have a family breakfast which consisted of Mum extolling the virtues of Slytherin, and cursing the fact that I was ever born to shame her by being a Gryffindor. Then Dad would wade in and tell us exactly what he expected of us in the coming year. For me it was always strictures on behaviour and never a word about my work. For Regulus, it was ‘work hard and stop messing about with Quidditch’.” Sirius paused. “And both of us just sat there and took it, year after year, or else we’d get a stinging jinx to the ear. Poor Reg, he’s probably getting double the attention.”
James watched as his friend shivered involuntarily. “Why did you leave? I mean, you’ve talked about it for ages, but I thought you were going to wait until you were seventeen.”
Sirius grimaced. “I got drunk with a Muggle girl in the park. Fantastic bird; fed me lager, gave me a cigarette, and snogged my face off. Then,” he paused and smiled ruefully, “she stole my radio and the rest of my Muggle money. I got home to find my mum had opened my O.W.L. results before I’d had a chance to undertake our usual switch.” He looked at James who nodded. “I could have handled her fury at the results. I even think I could have talked my way out of the whole Muggle Studies thing, but she smelt the drink and smoke on me and began to rip into Remus and Peter.
“She’s never been that angry, Prongs. I’d never seen her like that. She looked totally crazed and I suddenly thought ‘this is it’. I couldn’t stay in that house, hearing her poison every day. So I left,” he finished. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Merlin no,” exclaimed James. “I wish you’d moved in at the end of our first year. Dad would have loved it, for one thing.”
“Do you think it’s too much for your mum, though?” Sirius asked slowly.
James laughed. “Don’t be daft. Mum loves having you here.”
Sirius looked at James intently but didn’t say anything else. There was a pause as James slurped down the rest of his tea. “What’s your plan then, Padfoot?”
“Huh?”
“How are we getting to King’s Cross?”
Sirius chuckled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.” He put his hand in his back pocket and fished out a booklet. “Muggle train timetable,” he said as he unfolded it. “We can get a train from Godric’s Hollow into London.” He pointed to St Pancras station. “And then we can walk to King’s Cross “ it’s only over a road or two.”
“What, with our trunks? They’re heavy, and we can hardly levitate them through London, even if we were seventeen.”
“Details, mere details, Prongs,” said Sirius, waving away James’ objections. “We’ll find a trolley or something. Come on, weakling, you should be able to manage a trunk across a street or two.” He stopped as he heard the sound of someone coming down the stairs. A moment later, Hereward entered the kitchen wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown.
“You’re both up remarkable early,” he said in a surprised tone. “We don’t have to Apparate for another two hours at least.”
“Change of plan, Dad,” James answered. “Sirius wants to continue living the Muggle dream so we’re going to get the train from Godric’s Hollow to ...um... what’s it called...? St Pancreas or something?”
“Pancras,” muttered Sirius. “ Not pancreas, you dolt! The train to St Pancras, and then we’ll walk to King’s Cross.”
Hereward smiled at them, in a vaguely distracted way, and sat down at the table. He poured himself a cup of tea. “Mmm, not a bad idea. It would be hard for me to Apparate with both of you and I’m not sure your mother’s quite up to the trip this year, James.”
Sirius looked straight at Hereward as he said this and then at James,who was pouring himself more tea. “Is Hally all right?” he asked finally, as it seemed James was not going to say anything.
“Bit under the weather, Sirius, that’s all,” Hereward replied. He glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “You’ll need to get moving. James, take this cup of tea up to your mother and say goodbye.”
“Sure,” replied James.Taking a fresh cup of tea, he walked out. When Sirius heard him reach the top of the steps, he turned to Hereward.
“Is Hally ill?” he asked quietly, with one eye on the door.
Hereward smiled again. “She’ll be better soon, Sirius. She just needs to rest. Now, you need to get a move on. Why don’t you go upstairs and drag your trunks into the hall. If you’d like, I could cast a lightening charm on them both. That way they won’t be quite so heavy.”
“That would be fantastic,” enthused Sirius. He grinned across at the older man. “How about you just do mine and let your son carry the full weight?”
“Sirius Black, do you think I would ever be a party to something so sneaky?” Hereward said in mock outrage.
“Actually, Hereward, I’m surprised you didn’t suggest it,” replied Sirius.
Remus was lying in his bed listening to the sounds outside his bedroom. It was calming, at first, to hear the sound of birdsong when he came home, but eight weeks and two transformations later, he was longing to get back to Hogwarts. He was even looking forward to Sirius waking him up every morning by singing loudly in his ear, or squashing a wet flannel down his pyjama top.
The door opened and his mum bustled into the room, carrying a pile of freshly laundered robes and some T shirts.
“Aren’t you up yet, sleepyhead? Your dad had breakfast ages ago; he’s muttering about taking the Floo a bit earlier this year.”
“Why,” yawned Remus. He got up and took the robes from her and placed them neatly in his open trunk.
“He needs to be at the office earlier than he thought, as there’s a crisis in the Magical Records department, or something. She stopped talking and held out another pile of clothes. “Anyway, I bought you some new T shirts, love. You seem to have lost quite a lot,” she said, grumbling slightly.
“That’s the others, Mum. They love your taste in clothes. You know what Sirius is like around Muggle things,” Remus replied. “Thanks for doing all this. I know it’s hard for you not being able to do things with magic or how normal Muggles do laundry.”
His mum laughed. “I went to the launderette this year. With your dad stuck at the Ministry, and you not able to do magic yet, there was no way I was going to get all these done by hand.”
Remus reached over and hugged her. “Thanks anyway. I’ll try and keep this batch of shirts out of Sirius’ grasp. Perhaps I could charm them or something?” He pondered the thought and wondered if he could turn Sirius’ hair green if he touched his stuff.
“REMUS!” shouted his Dad from downstairs. “Breakfast, step to it!”
Releasing his Mum, Remus hurriedly pulled on his dressing gown and bounded down the stairs. He sat down next to his dad and began tucking into toast spread thick with marmalade.
“Why do we need to go so early, Dad?” he said, after he’d munched two halves of toast.
“I need to be in work earlier this year. Jeremy Flaxen hasn’t been in for a week and I’m piled high with work,” replied his dad, slightly sternly.
“Where is he, then?” asked Remus. He’d vaguely known Jeremy from school, although the Hufflepuff boy had been three years his senior, and had met him again last Christmas at one of the Ministry functions. They’d discovered a mutual liking forMartin Miggs comics despite being too old for such childish nonsense!
“We don’t know, Remus. He went on holiday and was due back last Monday but hasn’t bothered to turn up. Fool of a boy! He won’t have a job to come back to if he proves unreliable. Anyway, I need to be in earlier, so we’ll take the Floo to the Ministry and then I’ll walk you to King’s Cross.”
His dad didn’t ask Remus’ opinion, but Remus was used to that and just nodded. “I could go by myself, if you want. I was going to meet up with someone anyway.” Remus flushed slightly; his dad didn’t notice but his mum, who’d just walked in, looked at him curiously.
“Who?” she asked.
“Oh... um... just a girl I know from school.”
He cast a furtive glance at his mum. She’d frozen and for a moment he caught a look of horror on her face. Aware of his scrutiny, she looked away. She took a deep breath and sat down next to him.
“Remus, do you have a girlfriend?” she began, her voice sounding shaky.
“Sort of,” he mumbled, horribly embarrassed at the thought of his mum lecturing him on the ‘diricawls and the doxies’.
“Is that wise?” interjected his dad.
“Wh-what do you mean?” stuttered Remus, although it was dawning on him just why his mother had looked so horrified.
“Given your condition, Remus,” continued his dad. “I hardly think you should be thinking about girls.”
Remus reddened again, but it wasn’t just embarrassment; he was starting to get angry. He opened his mouth to speak, to rage against the unfairness of bloody everything, when a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked at his mum. She raised her hand and ruffled his hair.
“Does she know about you?” she asked softly. He shook his head and looked down at his hands. “Remus, my darling boy, she needs to know.”
“Not yet,” he mumbled. “I don’t want to spoil things. I just want to feel normal for a while.”
Peter was scrambling under his bed, looking for a shoe, when his mum walked in. “Aren’t you packed yet, Petey?” she asked, sighing. “I don’t know why you won’t let me do it. I could have done it in half the time.”
“Got it!” he exclaimed, as he pulled out his shoe and threw it in the trunk. “What were you saying, Mum?”
Peter sighed as he saw his mum itching to use her wand on his haphazard packing. “Mum, for Merlin’s sake, it doesn’t matter. However many times you refold stuff, it gets screwed up on the journey. Stop fussing, please!” he implored her.
But it was too late; his mum had started re-arranging his trunk. “Books need to be on the bottom, Petey, you know that. And, are you sure you want to take Defence against the Dark Arts at Newt level, dear? It’s awfully hard.”
Peter gritted his teeth and tried not to feel irritated by her well-meaning questions. “Just let me worry about subject choices, Mum. I’m good at Defence and anyway the others will be doing it so...” He trailed off as he caught the look in his mum’s eye.
“You don’t have to do things just because your friends are, Peter,” she said, and pursed her lips. “You had a good Care of Magical Creatures result, yet I don’t see any text books for that in here.”
“I’ll think about it, all right,” he muttered irritably.
His mum wasn’t listening, he could see that. Instead she was pulling out some robes. “I think you should get ready now, Petey.”
“Why? What’s the point in me putting robes on to travel through London? They’ll only get dirty,” he asked truculently.
“We’re not going through London, dear. Mr Crouch has kindly said that we can share their Portkey,” she said proudly.
“Mum! I am not going with Barty Crouch. He’s a Slytherin “ the others will never forgive me,” Peter moaned. He knew his mum was only doing her best, but it was bad enough that she worked for Mr Crouch “ let alone accepted favours from him.
“Don’t be silly, Petey. It’s all been arranged now. So let me finish your packing while you change.”
She turned back to his trunk. Peter sulkily pulled the robes over his head and stomped off downstairs to wait for her. Truth be told, he was quite looking forward to arriving by Portkey. It would certainly beat travelling by Floo. And Barty wasn’t reallythat bad, he supposed, for a Slytherin.
After Levitating his trunk down the stairs, Peter and his mum set off for the Crouch residence. They lived about a mile away in a far grander house than Peter’s mum’s bungalow. Peter stared at it enviously; the iron gates surrounding it deterred “ not only Muggles “ but any wizards deemed unfit to enter the Crouch residence. His mother stopped at the entrance and muttered something. At once, the gates swung open and they walked up the long path. Peter saw two people standing on the front lawn. He recognised the taller of the two as Barty and nodded to him. Barty scowled, but the witch smiled as they approached.
“Janet,” she cried. “How lovely to see you again. And this must be Peter. My, Peter, haven’t you grown. Just like Barty. I don’t know what happens to them over the holidays, do you? It’s as though they’ve both been hexed by a couple of stretching jinxes.”
“Is Mr Crouch not joining us?” asked Peter’s mum as she looked around for him.
Barty shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. Mrs Crouch smiled again, just a little too brightly. “No, I’m afraid poor Bartemius has been called into the office early again. Of course he wanted to see Barty off, but this was urgent.”
“Oh,” said Mrs Pettigrew. “Hmm, I wonder if I’m needed. Perhaps I should go in today.”
“Yeah,’ cause they really need tea ladies urgently, don’t they, Peter?” muttered Barty nastily.
Peter gripped his wand tightly. The urge to hex this smug, spoilt rich boy was almost overwhelming. What did he know?he thought savagely. What do any of these jerks know what it’s like to be poor and fatherless? He placed a hand on his mother’s arm. “Mum, they’ll be fine without you. Just come to the station with me, please and then you can call in at the Ministry when the train’s gone.”
Mrs Pettigrew smiled warmly at her son. “I wouldn’t miss taking you to King’s Cross, Petey, you know that.”
The Portkey began to glow. They all held out their hands. Just before he touched it, Peter looked into Barty’s eyes. A strange expression had crossed his face. It’s almost like envy, Peter thought. Then he forgot about it as his body suddenly jerked forwards. He felt a spinning sensation in his naval and thought he was going to be sick. Suddenly, he landed with a thump on the cold hard floor of Platform nine-and-three-quarters.
“Hello, Peter,” said a voice from above him. He squinted in the direction of the voice but couldn’t quite make out the features of the face. His head was still spinning, but he recognised the red hair.
“Hi, Lily,” he replied, as he stood up and began brushing his robes down. He wobbled and she put out an arm to steady him. His mum was effusively thanking Mrs Crouch who was patting at Barty’s robes.
“Wow! A Portkey, that’s cool,” she said, sounding impressed.
“Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “My mum knows the Crouchs. It was fun but a bit odd. Anyone else here yet?”
“Sonia’s just arrived. She’s over there moaning about Julius Bennet who she’s not going out with anymore. Mary and Martha are on their way and I don’t know about Phyllida.”
“I meant James, Sirius and Remus,” Peter said, laughing.
“Oh, well, I wouldn’t really be looking out for them, would I?” replied Lily. “Mind you as Potter always manages to make an entrance I suppose he’s not here because I would have noticed him.”
Peter noticed that she seemed a bit flustered when talking about James and wasn’t quite as scornful as she usually was. He smiled slightly; perhaps Prongs would catch her this year?
At the Ministry, Mr Lupin settled himself at his desk and began to sort through a large pile of unopened documents. Remus sat in a chair in the corner of the room and pulled out one of his books. It would soon be time to leave, and he hoped his dad would let him make his own way there.
“What’s this, John?” asked a man in the doorway. “Are you trying to recruit young Remus into your department?”
“Fraser, good to see you!” replied John Lupin, standing up to shake hands. He looked across at his son. “Hmm, joining this department, we’ll see, won’t we, Remus.”
Remus nodded and then saw the two figures standing behind his dad’s friend.
“Hi, Remus,” said Martha, smirking slightly. “Nice to see you again. Mary was just talking about you.”
Mary glared at her sister and squeezed past her dad to approach Remus. He backed away slightly and almost imperceptively shook his head. Mary looked puzzled but she stayed where she was. He saw his dad watching him and hurriedly looked away.
“I think we should be going, Dad,” Remus said. “Although, I could easily go by myself if you’re busy.”
“Nonsense,” declared Fraser Macdonald. “Remus can come with us if you’re busy.”
Remus saw his dad look from his son to Mary, and then back to the pile of paperwork on his desk. He sighed. “That would be great, Fraser. Since the Flaxen boy left so abruptly, I haven’t had a chance to get any of my own work done.” He turned to his son and held out his hand. “Have a good year, Remus. Work hard and remember what we talked about.”
Remus nodded dully and shook his dad’s hand. At the last minute, his dad reached over and hugged him. “I’m sorry about all this, Remus, but we do know best,” he whispered in Remus’ ear.
“Yeah, I know,” Remus whispered back. He could feel a wave of emotion ripple through him. His dad was so rarely affectionate.
He walked the half mile to King’s Cross with the Macdonalds, in near silence, until they approached the barrier.
“Right, you three,” said Mr Macdonald. “I’ll leave you to get through the barrier by yourself. Have a good term and think about Christmas. We’d love to have you home this year.”
“We’ll see, Dad. I don’t know what Lily’s doing yet, she may have to stay as she’s a prefect. What are you doing, Remus?” Mary asked him guilelessly.
There’s a full moon over the Christmas holiday, he thought. I’d sooner be at Hogwarts for that. “I don’t know yet. Probably staying.”
Mr Macdonald turned to his younger daughter. “Martha, work hard. It’s your O.W.L. year and we want some good results, yes?” Martha nodded dutifully. “But, have some fun too. And make sure you catch that Snitch!”
Martha beamed up at her dad. “I’ll do my best, Dad,” she replied.
“You too, Mary, see if you can get back on the team.” He turned to Remus. “You don’t play, Remus?”
“No, I leave all that to James Potter and your daughters, Mr Macdonald. I have commentated once or twice, though.”
Mr Macdonald gave his daughters a last quick hug, shook Remus’ hand and then walked away. As soon as he was out of sight, Mary put her arm round Remus waist and kissed him on the cheek. Mindful of his parents’ words, he started to move away but Merlin, it felt good to have her close. He squeezed her back and kissed her fully on the lips.
“Urghh!” exclaimed Martha. “Give it a rest. Come on, let’s get to the platform.”
“This was all your stupid idea, Padfoot. Why the hell did I listen to you?”
“Oh, stop moaning. We’re fine. They won’t go without us,” replied Sirius with confidence.
The two boys raced across the concourse of King’s Cross station. The Lightening Charm that Hereward had cast was beginning to wear off now. So Sirius grabbed a trolley and began to load his trunk. He pulled at his friend’s arm, and James put his trunk on top.
“Now, run like crazy, Prongs. We’ve got about fifteen minutes.”
Despite his earlier annoyance James began to laugh as they hurtled through the crowds. “I can see the barrier,” he yelled. He looked around; for once the platform seemed devoid of Muggles, so he sped up.
Sirius let go of the trolley and began clambering on top of the trunks. Pulling out a large Gryffindor flag, he fashioned himself a cloak and stood up. “Come on, Prongs!” he ordered.
“How come you get to look cool and I end up being your lackey?” James complained, but he carried on pushing. They burst through the barrier at five to eleven. Sirius began to howl and James joined in. He lifted his feet off the ground and let the trolley carry them to the side of the train. Immediately, they were surrounded by purple cloaked wizards and witches. James recognised one of them as Frank Longbottom.
“Bloody hell, what a welcoming committee!” Sirius said, laughing. “Hi, Frank. You coming back to Hogwarts this year?”
“Don’t be daft, Padfoot,” James said. “He must be here to exchange a last lingering kiss with Alice, eh, Frank, my man?”
“I know these two,” Frank assured the tall and rather grizzled man standing next to him. “They’re both sixth year Gryffindor students, Alastor.”
The wizard called Alastor grunted something under his breath.
“Wow! What was that about? ” asked James, as the other wizards walked away.
“Oh, the usual,” replied Frank. He sounded casual, but James and Sirius could tell how proud he was to be a trainee Auror. “Reports of Death Eater activity.”
“They wouldn’t attack the Hogwarts Express, would they?” James asked in disbelief.
“Not with us around,” agreed Frank. “But we cast some Muggle-repelling Charms around the area just in case.”
Sirius looked at the crowd below him; his eyes flicking from group to group until he found the people he was looking for. His father hadn’t deigned to come this year, he noticed. It was left to his mother, Walburga, to deliver all the last minute instructions and lectures to Regulus. His brother looked the same as ever, perhaps a bit thinner, and a bit less cowed, but it was still the same Regulus assenting to his mother’s demands.
“Hi, Ma,” Sirius yelled. “I got my results through. Outstanding in Muggle Studies! Doesn’t that just make you feel so proud?” He watched as Walburga turned decisively away from him and Apparated away, leaving Regulus alone on the platform. He raised his hand to his brother, but Regulus looked away. Shrugging, Sirius jumped off the trolley and landed among his friends.
“That boy will get himself into serious trouble one of these days,” muttered James.
“You two are always in trouble, Potter?” James turned his head to see Lily standing alongside him. She looked different and then he realised it was because she wasn’t frowning at him.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “Err, have a good holiday?” He cursed himself for not thinking of something more original to say, but she smiled at him.
“Yes, it was great... ” Whatever she was about to say next was lost as Remus approached with a sheet in his hand.
“Lily, we’ve got the first shift on the train. Have you stowed your trunk yet?”
She nodded. “I just need someone to look after my owl and then I’m ready,” she replied.
James looked at the small owl in her cage and was about to offer to take it, when Peter interrupted. “I’ll take care of Snitch for you, Lily,” he said.
“Snitch?” James questioned. “You’ve called your owl, Snitch. Merlin, Evans, don’t tell me you’re starting to warm to Quidditch.”
“Perhaps,” Lily replied with a half smile.
“Just not Quidditch players, eh, Lily?” joined in Sirius. “Talking of Quidditch players, where’s my favourite Seeker?”
“On the train, I think. Don’t worry, Sirius, I doubt she missed your grand entrance,” Lily replied witheringly.
Sirius clambered on the train with Peter who was holding Snitch. James held out his hand to Lily. “You getting on, Evans?”
“Mmm,” she replied distractedly. She took his hand. “Yes, I suppose I should. It’s odd though...”
“What’s odd?” James asked as he helped her up the steps.
“I haven’t seen Phyllida at all. I thought she might be with Jacob, but he’s over there by himself. I wonder if he’s waiting for her.” She looked at James. “It’s unlike her to be late. I mean her mum’s really strict about punctuality and everything. Have you ever met her?”
“Err... briefly,” replied James, remembering the one time he’d met Mrs Lacey. It hadn’t been the most auspicious first meeting, as he’d had his hand stuffed down Phyll’s shirt at the time. He looked down, suddenly aware that Lily was still holding onto him. He barely had time to reflect that this was the first time he’d ever held her hand, when Lily noticed what she was doing and hurriedly let go.
“It’s just odd that’s all,” she said shakily.
“Hey, guess what,” said James, anxious to keep the conversation with her going. “McGonagall found my broomstick. It was stuck in the horse chestnut tree all the time.”
“That’s great, James,” Lily replied, hoping he couldn’t see her blushing.
Bloody hell! he thought. Did she just call me James?