Up To No Good

Chapter Twenty-Five

There was a fire going in the Longbottoms' fireplace. Lily's hand was clasped into James's, and she looked pale and clammy as a ghost. She'd Apparated them both back to the headquarters, where most everyone seemed to be, albeit shaken. The room was entirely devoid of the usual casual chatter and banter.

"What happened?"

"There was no reason for us to stay there. Not with Dumbledore."

Sirius was sitting on one of the couches nearby, his expression unreadable. James almost spoke to him, but thought it might be better if they all had some time to themselves.

"Aren't you worried?" James asked her.

"About Dumbledore?" Lily lowered her gaze. "He's the most powerful wizard known, except maybe for Merlin... he'll be okay. I wanted us to be safe." She squeezed his hand before letting go, and he felt a rush of gratefulness. He'd been too rattled to think, and the idea of what might have happened if she'd not been there was frightening.

"Padfoot, we're safe," she turned to Sirius, who jerked out of his reverie quite suddenly as she addressed him. 

"Yeah... I know." He stood up, placing his hands in his jacket. "Sorry... I think I'll just have a cup of tea and head home."

Sirius had never liked Bella--in fact, he was quite clear about his opinion of her--but James knew that something about seeing not just her, but his own brother turned to the side of Lord Voldemort had... changed something about him that James couldn't quite place, and there wasn't much he could do but be sympathetic.

"There's no rush," James assured him. He gave him a pat on the shoulder before Sirius turned out of the room.

They explained what happened to Peter and Remus later. The former had stayed back, as he mainly helped manage the Order's other affairs. 

"Bellatrix is a powerful witch," Remus conceded. "I hate to admit it. But those are the sort of people drawn to his power... people who want more than they already have."

"Not like we didn't already know something was up while we were at Hogwarts," Peter put in. 

"What about her sisters?" Lily asked. "Didn't she have two?"

"One of them was disowned by her family," James responded. "Andromeda married a Muggle. She hasn't spoken to her family. As for the other, I don't know much about her. But I'd guess she'd part of the same kind of lot as Bella."

"A Slytherin pure-blood?" Peter asked skeptically. "Marrying a Muggle?"

"Not all pure-bloods think that way, Wormtail," James reminded him, a trace of annoyance trickling into his voice that he hadn't fully intended.

"Right."

"It's kind of funny that way," Lily agreed, though there was no trace of humor in her voice. "Pure-bloods don't want their children marrying Muggles. And then Muggles don't want their relatives marrying wizards." She shrugged, a sort of half-smile on her face.

"Well, some Muggles," James said. "Only the ignorant ones."

Dumbledore arrived later that evening. Almost none of them had left the Longbottoms' house since that morning, save for Sirius. If it weren't for the creeping trace of fatigue, one might not have known that just a few hours prior, the Order had seen him duel the Dark Lord.

People were speaking immediately; people asking if he was alright, where Voldemort was now. Professor McGonagall even Apparated moments before, making time out of her usually busy Hogwarts schedule to attend. Dumbledore held up one hand, and everyone fell silent immediately. Though to them, the Professor was no longer a representation of authority, the silent and unspoken command that he had over the room was undeniable.

"Lord Voldemort made his escape from the village," he answered the question that was seemingly on all their minds at once. "Where he went, I cannot say."

"How did you defeat him, Professor?" Peter asked. Even in their adult years the young man's voice held a childlike wonder, which Dumbledore apparently disregarded along with the question entirely. If there was one thing that James thoroughly disliked about Dumbledore, it was the man's mystery. 

"And what of the Muggles?" Marlene McKinnon asked. 

"My brother Aberforth and I were able to locate the families of the affected victims and offer our condolences for those passed," he explained lightly. "Soon they shall be put to rest. As for everyone else, their memories have been wiped."

James could hardly imagine what it must be like to be a Muggle whose memory had been wiped, the true cause of their loved one's death a mystery. Normally, when procedures like this had to be done on Muggles, they often had a false memory planted to take the place of the true events. It was possible that they believed their families had died in car crashes, as they called it, or some other horrific accident. It was necessary, just... seemed wrong. Especially to those who had lost people in the worst way imaginable, or tortured by bloodthirsty wizards who believed themselves to be superior because of their blood. Additionally, the notion of Dumbledore having a brother was something he had completely been unaware of, but in the light of this information he hardly registered it.

"I know you are all waiting to ask me about Benjy Fenwick," he acknowledged. "We have buried his body not too far from the village, and I plan to notify his family personally by owl."

There wasn't much talk after that. If anything, they might have discussed the battle, but the fresh memory of all the suffering, the adrenaline, the dread they'd felt when Lord Voldemort had appeared made it a subject that no one was eager to discuss. Instead, they resigned themselves to sipping tea quietly around the fire, engaging in idle conversation or returning to their homes, which no one seemed terribly keen to do either.

It wouldn't be long until things changed, however. It was evening once they arrived back at home. It was mercifully quiet. Being a wizarding village, they Apparated into the street with no problem, greeting Sirius on their way in.

It was the day Lily found out she was pregnant with their first child.

It seemed that any hatred, any fear Sirius had had that day had disappeared. They all stayed up well into the hours of the early morning, laughing and talking about the possibilities this new revelation brought. 

"Have you thought of any names?"

"It's hardly been three hours, and you think I've thought of names?" Lily laughed.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't know if you might have already thought of some. I know some people do that when they're kids."

"I dunno. Nothing too fancy." She crossed her arms as the cat she'd taken home just a few days before leaped onto the bed and settled down on top of the comforter. "I suppose if it's a girl we could continue the family tradition and give her a flower name, don't you think? I've always thought Rose was such a pretty name."

"Or, for a boy, James Junior."

Lily scoffed. "Maybe as a middle name."

The enormous, fluffy, ginger cat chirruped and she began to stroke him. He started purring instantly. "Maybe you shouldn't have a say in it, considering you decided to name the cat Crookshanks."

"It's funny."

"To you maybe, but I think it's stupid."

Crookshanks opened an eye briefly at his name. The pet store at Diagon Alley had suspected he was part Kneazle, which, considering his intelligence, neither of them doubted.

"Stupid doesn't mean un-funny."

Lily rolled over, burying her face in the cat beside her. "Shut up and go to sleep," she laughed. "It's nearly 4 am."

It was a strange world they were in, that the same day James received the greatest news in his life was also one of the worst. But today, that was easy to forget. It didn't matter that the wizarding world was at war, or that people were dying for their cause. For a moment all that mattered was them and their friends.