| -=Beyond Hogwarts, cont.; Chapter Twenty Nine=- |
| The Ministry was in pandemonium. A large number of Aurors had handed in notices, as well as quite a few of the other Minstry staff members, and the young, just-out-of-Hogwarts trainees were stuffed together as the Minister of Magic gave them a short speech on the necessity of their promotion to becoming full-trained Aurors. James couldn’t help feeling sorry for them-they would be at the Ministry almost constantly, cramming training they hadn’t received yet. Still, he felt more pity for their instructors, whom he encountered now and then while they raided the pair of refrigerators. Frazzled, they would rush downstairs, flop into a chair, Summon a bottle of pumpkin juice or Anti-Weariness Potion (specially provided by the Ministry) out of the refrigerators, down half of it, and rush back upstairs, tucking the bottle into the folds of their robes. It wasn’t only a matter of arranging higher security and replacing the six Aurors, James knew; it was a mess of keeping panic down, managing to retain the staff that the Ministry had, shoving overly excited Daily Prophet reporters and photographers out of offices and meeting rooms, providing escorts for both terrified witches and wizards and the more important members of the Ministry, and dealing with the families of the murdered Aurors. Arthur Weasley came exceedingly close to throwing a full bottle of the Anti-Weariness Potion across James’ office at about two in the afternoon. An entire group of witches, all around sixteen years old, had been wandering around Diagon Alley without an escort, and, as they exited the Leaky Cauldron to peer around London, two unshaven men dressed in black bumped into them. The shrieks could be heard three blocks away, but the damage done was worse. Considering this to be a circumstance in which they could use magic, the girls had attacked the two harmless Muggles with all of the hexes known to most of the school population-Full Body-Binds, ringleted nose hair, spiked tongues, enlarged noses, frog-legs attached to the neck, flapping ears, and the like. Before a nearby witch could pounce on the girls and drag them into the Leaky Cauldron, they had dropped quite a few of the things they had bought in Diagon Alley, and so, to Arthur’s frustration, there were bags of moving photographs, Fizzing Whizbees, books of spells, Ice Mice, and Quick-Quotes Quills being pondered over by Muggles at that very moment. Before James could say a word beyond “What utter pratwhelks”, however, an owl was shunted into his office and dropped an envelope on Arthur’s head. Grunting horrifically, Arthur pulled the letter out and groaned. Springing to his feet, he sprinted out of the office, banging the door loudly behind him. A half-hour later, James learned what the letter had contained-the flapping ears were infectious, and at least one hundred and fifty Muggles would have to be visited with Memory Charms and the reversal to the ear-waggling hex. By special request of Mr. Merriwether, Lily had returned to the Ministry temporarily, doing odd jobs such as acting as an escort to terrified witches and wizards, taking over the speeded-up Auror-in-training classes when the regular professors became too frazzled, taking shifts as a guard at the Ministry’s and St. Mungo’s official entrances, both Floo and visitor, helping Obliviate and de-jinx the Muggles that had been attacked with the numerous hexes in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and helping Mr. Merriwether figure out decent explanations to give the Daily Prophet. Arabella Figg caught her in the break room downstairs, swilling down a cup of coffee, and informed her that she was horribly glad that the Ministry had agreed to take Lily back on-after all, usually, if you quit, you had quit. “It’s only because you’re good at all this stuff…and not only normal good, but really good…” She downed a gulp of Anti-Weariness Potion and chucked the empty bottle in the bin sitting halfway across the room. “They haven’t forgotten what you did at Durmstrang-I don’t know whether James told you, but they’ve arrested that teacher, the horrible one that was rounding up the students, and she’s been in Azkaban for six months now. ‘Course it’s not a life term, that’s only if you’ve killed someone or something just as bad, but she got six years.” Shaking her head, she headed back upstairs. “Well, I’d better get back.” Lily nodded vaguely, but then her head snapped up. “Wait!” Arabella swiveled on the doorstep. “What?” “I-do you know if they’ve found out anything about James’ attack?” “Oh.” Arabella sighed. “They had two people working on it, and the last I heard, the man was a Squib, but he’s completely disappeared. They can’t find anything. And the stupid thing is that he could be either in the Muggle or wizarding world; we don’t know.” “Who would I ask about that?” “Er…oh, Merlin, I had his name a moment ago. Yes-Augustus Bolt, of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He’s in charge. But he’s had to call that off since the ninth-now might not be a good time.” “Yes, I figured that,” Lily murmured. “Well, off to teaching the children, then.” “What are you going over today?” “They’re notoriously hopeless at Mermish and the High language of the goblins, and I get to fix that.” She shook herself. “Well, back to the classroom!” On Tuesday, James burst into Lily’s classroom around nine in the evening, breathless. “Merlin’s beard, James, what the-“ “Lily, I need to talk to you.” Frowning, she followed him outside. Shutting the door, she turned to face him. “What is it?” “Moody needs me. He says that Barty Crouch managed to dig up something, and they think they know where three of the Death Eaters are rooming. And if they are there, then we’ve got quite a bit of evidence complete-we can haul them off to trial.” He paused to catch his breath. “When’s your next break here?” “Half an hour, but I’m relieving Kingsley at the visitor’s entrance after that, and then they’ve scheduled me to take the night shift with Bertridge; we’re helping Obliviate the Muggles and getting rid of those stupid flapping ears. Why?” “Damn.” Frustrated, he ran a hand across his chin. “We need a third person.” “Arabella?” “Arabella Figg is dead on her feet, Merriwether couldn’t get away from his work if he were threatened with Azkaban, Frank’s working with the press, and about thirty others are either escorting people places or seeing into reports of Death Eaters. I can’t get anyone else.” Lily groaned. “This is not chaos; this is a highly advanced form of bedlam mated with turmoil. I can’t get away.” “Oh, Moody’ll be pleased,” James said darkly. “Two against three, and the three with no problem whatsoever about using the Unforgivables. If I still have my limbs at the end of this, congratulate me.” “You’re overreacting,” Lily said lightly. “I’ve got to get back to my class.” Alastor Moody, as predicted, was anything but delighted. Grumbling severely, he snapped his reading glasses closed and reached for his cloak.” “Merlin’s beard,” James heard him muttering, “what Sikora thinks he’s doing…only having two Aurors available at one time…well, I hope he enjoys the sights of coffins…don’t think he realizes just how much danger every Ministry worker is in...could be blown apart in seconds, and he lets those followers outnumber us two to three…” Cheerfully, James clapped him on the back. “Honk up, Alastor; it’s an adventure.” “You young people,” Moody growled. “To you, a massacre could be wildly exciting.” But his expression did brighten up a bit, something James noted with a smirk. Lily’s shift at the visitor’s entrance to the Ministry was over at midnight, and, exhausted, she fell onto the plushy sofa next to the coffeepot downstairs, resting for a quarter hour before she had to join Bertridge in the Leaky Cauldron. He woke her twenty minutes later; he had returned to the Ministry for a stock of Extra-Strenth Anti-Weariness Potion, and had found her lying on the couch. “Lily, wake up…here, drink this.” He shoved a green glass bottle under her nose, and, sneezing violently, Lily sat up. “How long was I sleeping?” she yawned, downing the contents of the bottle. “Not that long. Come on, Digglebent reckons he’s tracked down another Muggle home with the flapping ear infection.” “Ugh,” Lily muttered. “All right, all right. I’m up.” Running through the London streets, James had no firm idea as to how anything had happened. Moody’s shouts of “RUN!” were pounding into his ears, and they were rounding corners as fast as they could, ducking into alleys, blasting trash cans out of their way… It hadn’t been only three Death Eaters; it had been eleven, and they were obviously expecting the pair of Aurors. As soon as Moody had opened the door to the flat, a badly aimed jet of red light had streaked in between them, setting Moody’s hair on fire and singeing James’. Without waiting for another curse to fly towards them, Moody had raised his wand, yelled “Protego!”, and pulled James away, sprinting for the nearest alley… “I never knew you could run this fast,” James muttered when they paused for an instant. “Quiet,” Moody growled, and they were off again, running down a main street and searching wildly for a side alley- With a flash of fiery light, three figures leaped out from a doorway to a shop, where they had hidden, crouched underneath their cloaks. Streams of light flew from their wands as they blocked off the street in front of the two Aurors. With a yell of “Expelliarmus!”, one of the wands flew towards Moody, and he caught it neatly, setting up a doubly strong Shield Charm in front of them. It lasted, however, just long enough for the two to catch their breath; from behind them, now, the eight other Death Eaters had followed them, and they were blasting their way forward, ignoring the screams and brightly lit windows in the flats above their heads. Moody swore horribly, and he swiveled about, trying to construct another Shield Charm. “Alastor, it’s not working! There’s got to be a momentary lull in fire-don’t waste your time on that!” “Waste my time” Moody snapped irritably. “Impedimenta!” “Just shut up and curse them!” James shouted back. “Imp-ALASTOR, WATCH OUT!” A bright blue streak of light had escaped the foremost Death Eater’s wand and was aiming itself directly for Moody’s head. Moody spun around for the source of James’ shout, and, with a fizzling blast, was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell. “ALASTOR!” James shouted. “NO!” A terrific groan reassured him; Moody had turned onto his back and was holding his face with both hands. A glimpse of it by the streetlights revealed, to James’ disgust, the effects of what could have been vitriol; the skin around his left eye had been eaten away, and it was raw, red, and gaping. A whishing sound next to his right ear focused James’ attention back to the Death Eaters; Moody had managed to down three before he had fallen, and two others were lying on the street as a result of James’ curses, but six were alive, well, and blasting for all they were worth, and James was dripping blood from above his right ear. Moody’s Shield Charm had evaporated he fell, so that James was being slowly driven into a human vice. Suddenly, from behind him, shouts were ringing down the alley, ones of voices James knew. A hiss of green light was deflected and burst into small sparkles just moments before it would have hit James in the chest, and, before James could say a word, two figures were standing beside him: Kingsley Shacklebolt and Doris Bertridge. “What are you doing here?” James grinned broadly, after Stunning the nearest black-cloaked ghoul. “STUPEFY!” Bertridge replied cheerfully. “Yes, that too,” James agreed. “PROTEGO!-where’s Lily?” “Back there a bit,” Kingsley yelled. I-DECLINO!” A jet of red light was deflected neatly onto a building, and several bricks crumbled to the pavement. “Nicely done,” Lily’s voice applauded merrily. “Those three back there are out-“ With a last cry of “STUPEFY!”, the one remaining Death Eater fled down a back alley, and the five were left alone on the exceedingly defaced street. “Memory Charms will be necessary, I think,” Kingsley sighed, staring up at the brightly lit windows, where people had been watching the fight. “Who’s up for it-Doris, what’s wrong with you?” Bertridge was standing up shakily. “I got blasted in the stomach. What happened to Moody?” “Alastor!” James slapped his forehead. “Look, someone get to St. Mungo’s as quick as you can, got that? I don’t know what curse it was, but he needs help.” “We’d better get out of the street,” Lily advised. “We’re three blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron; you think we could get him in there?” “Good idea,” Kingsley approved. “Doris, get to St. Mungo’s and have them send out an emergency squad of Healers; tell ‘em it’s urgent. We’ll be in the Cauldron.” “Right you are, sir,” Bertridge said with a click of his heels, Disapparating with a pop. “So,” Lily said brightly, while they were magicking Moody onto a stretcher, “what happened?” “It was a trap,” James growled. “Yeah, right, only three Death Eaters…there were eleven, or I will eat my wand. Well, what happened was expectable; we ended up fighting them. How did you three get down here?” “We were de-hexing Muggles,” Lily informed him. “And one of them lived on the street just around the corner of the Cauldron, so we were visiting them.” James had just noticed that Lily was dressed in a torn skirt and shirt, and that her hair was falling everywhere, messy and a bit muddy. Apologetically, she grinned. “We were officially supposed to be people from a Muggle clinic, and it was a new form of nervous reactions we were studying,” Lily explained. “I did the interviewing, and Bertridge just stood behind me and played the wallflower, but of course he performed the counterjinx while I was talking.” “Interviewing?” James queried. “Well, yes…pointless things that would detract their attention from Doris. But it was so late that we couldn’t do the normal procedure, so I came up with this idea. Door-to-door begging. Same method, really, only that I cried horribly and Bertridge could mutter the jinx under my howling. Anyway, we had just left the house when we heard the shouts and saw the fireworks, so we bumped into Kingsley and ran towards you as fast as we could.” “Here’s the Leaky Cauldron, then…” James sighed, ramming the door open with his foot. “Hey-Tom-Tom-give us some help here-“ They finally made it to the sitting room, closing the door on the curious customers, who had heard the screams and shouts but hadn’t dared to leave the pub. Accepting the bartender’s offer of drinks, the four flopped down on the two sofas, leaving Moody in levitation. “What happened to him?” Bertridge asked wearily. “I mean, do you know what curse it was?” “Nope. Blue light is all I saw and a fizzing, exploding noise was all I heard.” Lily frowned, standing up. “I’m sure I’ve read about this somewhere…I think while I was studying for the N.E.W.T. exams…” “What?” James looked distraught. “Lily, nothing like this came up on the N.E.W.T.s!” “No,” she admitted, “but I had some extra time…this is absolutely disgusting.” “Looks like his skin’s been eaten away,” Kingsley said, not intending to be helpful in the least, and therefore was exceedingly surprised when Lily’s eyes lit up. “That’s it! Kingsley, you’re a genius…Viscus Peredo is what it’s called.” “For those of use less enlightened,” James said, frowning, “what’s that?” “It almost was an Unforgivable,” Lily shrugged. “It acts like vitriol; eats its way into your skin.” She shuddered involuntarily. “He’ll probably have to get another eye.” However, before anyone could say anything else, four Healers strode briskly through the door, disappearing again in a few seconds with the stretcher carrying Alastor Moody. However, before anyone could say anything else, four Healers strode briskly through the door, disappearing again in a few seconds with the stretcher carrying Alastor Moody. As the four Aurors were not allowed to enter the hospital with their friend, seeing that they were no close relatives, they dispersed quietly, with a few farewell words, each Apparating to their respective homes. Running a sweaty hand across her artistically grimed forehead, Lily hung her cloak onto a hook, abstractedly refusing Slenka’s help. “Do you think he’ll be all right?” ”I don’t know,” James sighed. “But if he does have to get another eye, he’ll definitely get a kick out of it.” “Why so?” Lily yawned. “Has he been looking forward to having his head half melted away?” James grinned. “No, not exactly, but you know Alastor; he’d have the replacement eye shoot hexes on command of his thoughts or something.” He slipped out of his own cloak and handed it to Slenka. “All right; I’m off to bed.” “Wait!” Lily said quickly. “What’s that on your back?” James tried to twist around, but, naturally, could see nothing. “I don’t know. What is it?” “You’re bleeding,” Lily said matter-of-factly. “Come on, upstairs.” A rather large gash twisted across the back of one shoulder, all the way to the middle of his spine. It was not serious, however, and Lily sent Slenka scurrying off for some bandages and dressing. It took hardly any time to wash the cut and to cover it with a layer of Magical Cure-All-Cuts Bandaging Aids, and James was soon lying in bed, on his stomach, and in pajamas. Lily, however, had ensconced herself in a chair, and she was thinking furiously, her eyebrows knotted tightly. James, curious, turned over on his side, supporting himself on his arm. “Is anything wrong?” he asked, “besides the obvious?” “This gives one furiously to think, is all,” Lily said quietly. “If I remember correctly, you were not to die until you had a child whose death you would be permitted to watch. But you were attacked today.” “Say, that’s right!” James’ face lit up. “D’you think Tom’s given that over, and that he just wants me dead now, no matter what?” “That is hardly something to be excited about,” Lily murmured, amused. “Besides, it may just be that they didn’t know you were going to be one of the ones coming.” “I doubt it. But no, listen! If he’s not going to bother waiting till we have a baby, what’s to prevent us now from having one?” Lily blinked several times; the very folds of her dressing gown were frozen. “What?” There was no constraining the excitement that was running through James’ face and body; he was almost a child again, ravenous for something a parent had denied him. “You know I want a family, and you’ve never said in so many words that you seriously don’t. If I’m to die with or without a kid, then why not? Lily, it doesn’t matter now; tonight’s just as well proven that. And it can’t hurt us—unless you honestly don’t want a baby—“ He suddenly grew serious. “Lily, do you or don’t you?” “I do think that this is highly ridiculous,” Lily snapped. “You might as well shove yourself in front of Tom’s wand after spitting in his face and have done with it. Better yet, throw yourself into a volcano and hope for the chances of a magic carpet flying down to save you. You’re being stupid.” “I am not!” James insisted. “Who’s going to save the next generation at Hogwarts from complete ennui, then, if there isn’t someone to carry on the culture of troublemakers?” “Fred and George Weasley will do very well,” Lily said with a smirk. “You have prepared them as you would an heir. Molly informed me that they have lately placed a bundle of Wet-Start fireworks inside a toilet, and Bill is now in bed with a burned rear.” James hooted. “Have they really?” “Molly is almost ready to strangle you,” Lily shrugged. “Which should make you happy.” Her face hardening, she stood up from the chair, shaking her hair behind her back. “But we’re not having any children, James.” “Lily, do you honestly not want any or are you thinking of me?” Lily swept over to the chair in front of her vanity, and she refused to look at him as she removed her earrings. “I don’t know.” “You don’t know? Lily, that’s a lie.” “No, it’s not,” she said unconvincingly. “I don’t know.” James frowned, pushing himself to a sitting position. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask Snape, and I’m sure he’ll gladly spit into my face whatever you’ve confided to him, providing it’s not in my favor.” Lily slammed the lid of her jewelry box shut. Standing up sharply, she whirled around, furious; if she had had the anatomy of a dragon, she would have been spitting fire. “All right. All right. If you’ve been so dense as not to be able to take hints over the years, here’s what I honestly think. I would despise having children. They anchor you down so that you can’t move, and all you’re allowed to think about for the rest of your life is them. I don’t care about the money spent on them—that wouldn’t matter to us—but I’d lose everything else—can’t you see that? Either they’d be in danger because of me, or they’d drag me down from whatever I am, insisting that I’d embarrass them. “I’m not cut out for a mother, and I couldn’t drag a bundle of clinging arms with me on a horseback ride. And that’s not even the least of it—I couldn’t do anything that vaguely hinted at liberty if I had to stop to wipe a toddler’s mouth. I haven’t the patience for children! I can hardly stand to ride slowly; do you really think I’d be a good mother to a child that couldn’t read by the time it was three? They’d end up hating me, wishing for a better mother, and they’d be crying themselves to sleep because I can’t help looking on them as a burden. I can’t be a mother, that’s all, and that’s final.” James stared at her as she sank into an armchair, completely spent from her outburst, and huddling her face against her knees to hide it. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?” No answer came from the armchair, and James sighed deeply, banging his nose into his pillow. “Why on earth did you marry me, then?” “Idiot,” Lily said caressingly, raising her head. “I love you.” “Oh.” James considered this for a minute. “But not enough to have little replicas running around the house?” “Good night,” Lily said, cutting the conversation short while suppressing a grin. Though things at the Ministry were a bit strained, what with one of the best Aurors gone, Alastor Moody was improving miraculously, and within two days he was receiving visitors. To everyone’s amusement, James’ prediction was proven correct; the first batch of people he received walked into the hospital room and found Alastor perusing a catalogue of magical replacement eyes. He did not tell anyone which eye he had chosen, so, on the day that he returned to work, absolutely everyone was baffled by the constant stream of chuckles coming from Alastor’s direction. The eye that he had selected was electric blue, and continuously rolled everywhere in the socket, even to the point that the eye looked as if it were staring out of the back of his head. It did this separately of the other eye, and it was rather disconcerting to talk to him, as the blue eye was usually scanning something in the inside of his head. Sirius was the first to discover what the eye actually did; he had been paying a visit to James in his office and ran into Alastor when he opened the door to leave. “Alastor Moody, what on earth is that mad thing?” he spluttered. “Like it?” Alastor said conversationally. “Extremely interesting piece of magic.” “What does it do, besides make you look completely barmy?” “It can see through solid objects.” Alastor grinned, noting that a bevy of young, giggly, female Ministry employees were walking past. “I find it very useful. For instance, your underwear is on backwards.” Sirius’ jaunty grin dropped as the girls peered at him, scandalized, and galloped away as fast as their legs could carry them. “It is? How—“ He reached into his robes and pulled out the tag of his underwear, which was, interestingly, in the front. “How on earth…” Mr. Merriwether interrupted the perusal of the tag with a somewhat curious stare at Sirius’ antics. “What’s going on here?” “Alastor,” Sirius said meanly, “has gone over the edge of the Cliff of Madness and has had his eardrums explode in the depths of the Ocean of Insanity. Besides getting that absolutely incredible bit of magic transplanted into his head, he has been examining my underwear with it.” Mr. Merriwether looked quite confused until he saw Alastor’s new addition. “Well!” “Unwell,” Sirius commented, switching his underwear around with a carefully aimed spell. “Disgustingly unwell. That mad eye of yours should be barred from use.” “Mad-Eye!” Mr. Merriwether’s face lit up. “Moody!” “Oh, dear,” Alastor sighed, knowing full well what was about to happen. “Mad-Eye Moody!” Sirius yelped. “Perfect! Absolutely perfect! Oh, divinity! James! James! Look at this! We’ve got something to torture Alastor with! Come see Mad-Eye!” James emerged from his office, laughing. “So you have come up with a nickname for him?” “Mad-Eye Moody,” Sirius said proudly. “Isn’t he, though?” Snorting loudly, James clapped Alastor on the back. “Beautiful, old chap, simply marvelous. Wait till I tell the office!” “No!” Alastor howled. “Don’t you dare—“ It was too late. James had disappeared down the hallway, and Alastor turned back to Sirius and Mr. Merriwether, both edging away, but with grins of the utmost satisfaction on their faces. “That’s payback for the underwear ogling!” Sirius shouted as he Disapparated before Alastor could get out his wand, and Alastor was left in the hallway, and if he had not been Alastor Moody, he would have been quite embarrassed at the reaction to Sirius’ last two words. However, he managed to get by with a slight twitch in his normal eye as he growled “Back to work; what’s there to stare at? Those Death Eaters could be overpowering this place while you idiots lose your concentration.” The Ministry had taken the job of issuing protectors to frequently endangered Ministry workers and their families upon itself since Alastor’s injury, which meant that each Auror without a family (most of them, in other words) was assigned a family to watch over. The logic behind this was that if the member of the family involved in the Ministry was killed in direct contact with the Death Eaters, had landed one or more of the Death Eaters in Azkaban, or had killed one or more of the Death Eaters, the protector of the family would place his or her charges and their home under a new spell, one called the Secret-Keeper charm. This charm meant that only the person who had placed the spell, in this case, the protector, knew where the family was located, and they could only be discovered if the Secret-Keeper, the protector, chose to disclose the location of their residence. Officially, the protectors had a long, elaborate list of duties, including providing for the family if the head of it was killed, giving advice on work and hiding to the best of his or her ability, and bringing the family supplies if it was under the Secret-Keeper charm. This meant quite a bit of extra work for many people and raised salaries for the protectors, but most were as relieved as they could be in the time they were living in. This measure was actually designed to save the Ministry many of their employees, as over half of the capable staff was handing in notices to leave their jobs; they felt that their families were placed in danger by their connection to the Ministry. It worked well, too; only three people did not take back their notices, and they were relatively dispensable. At first, the Potters had not been assigned a protector, as there were not that many to go around, and since both of them worked at the Ministry, but Alastor Moody had been assigned to the family of one of the three that had left the Ministry, and, after deciding that James was one of the more capable Aurors and therefore one of the most endangered, the Ministry of Magic officially assigned to Alastor Moody the protection of: James and Lily Potter, married couple, living 65.39 miles to 091 degrees away from the centre of the Ministry of Magic. No children, one cat, two horses, one house-elf, many valuables not specified stored in the house. Both pairs of parents deceased. Both have been involved with the Ministry of Magic for two years. First mission: Durmstrang IV /2; successfully completed. Have not taken on missions together since, but have undertaken a sum total of eighteen. James Potter has been attacked four times (filed under: T/42, RO/36, XII/ME. vi, 56/DL) and escaped an attack once (filed under: OV/9). He appears to be the most endangered of the couple and should be watched over with especial vigilance. Lily Potter is not as significant to the Dark Lord and has had no contact with any known members of the Death Eater faction, and therefore does not need much protection. Floo Fireplace Connection Address: Hedera Castellum. Lily found this measure more irritating than anything else, as it now gave Alastor the privilege of practically living with them. Alastor was kind, yes, as well as quite protective of the two even without the assigned protector status he held, but he was also gruff, exceedingly careful and cautious, and kept an extremely close watch over the people Lily associated with. He did not suspect her of communication with Lord Voldemort, but he did have a fixed idea that horrendous enemies might gain some sorts of information unwittingly distributed by her in a casual chat. “He is unnecessarily paranoid,” Lily complained one evening, when Alastor had left the house after dinner. “He follows me everywhere, and I have no doubt that he will soon make it his mission to watch over me while I’m in the bathtub.” “He does, and I’ll bash his teeth in,” James said cheerfully. “Or, better, I’ll give you a free rein to do whatever you want to with him.” “Sounds good,” Lily agreed. “I will go look up your old hex books.” She reached a hand towards the bookcase behind her armchair. “By the way, Albus paid a call earlier today. He wanted to know if we could host an important meeting tomorrow night at eleven o’clock.” Curious, James looked up from The Daily Prophet. “What for? Did he give a reason? What did you say?” “I don’t know why. He just asked if we could, and I said yes. You’re not working then, are you?” James pulled a folder onto his lap and pulled out a flap marked with a gold tab. “Nope; Reuben Argyle’s filling in for me that night. Who’s coming to this meeting?” “I have no idea,” Lily said absently, examining the embossed cover of The Lost Diaries of Queen Guenevere of Camelot. “Albus, as usual, was being intolerably secretive.” “Yes, he takes pleasure in that,” James agreed. “Should we have Slenka set out something to eat or not?” “I suppose,” Lily murmured, flipping through her book to find a particular hex that Queen Guenevere mentioned using on a servant girl. “I wonder what kind of a crowd it will be, though. Probably not too large, I’m guessing. Say five or ten?” |
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