Marauders - Always - Part One

Picked Up the Scent

Marjorie Underhill was showing Storm her collection of chocolate frog cards, laying on the floor of the living room. All around the two kids were famouse witches and wizards, blinking up at them from hexagonal purple and gold cards.

"Next time I'm by Diagon Alley, I'll stop by the sweets shop and bring some new frogs along so you can start your own collection," Underhill promised Storm, watching the kids going over Marjorie's impressive set.

"Wow cool," Storm said, eyes bright with excitement. "Thanks!"

Underhill smiled and nodded.

"You really do all this stuff like this article says?" Carl asked Underhill, lowering a copy of the Daily Prophet. "Working with the queen and all?"

Underhill smiled humbly, "I mean, they've made a bigger deal of it in the paper, of course."

"Seems you ought to be one of those card things," Carl murmured, waving at the frog cards.

Underhill chuckled and shook his head, and got up from the couch he'd been sitting on, watching a bit of telly. "Merlin's beard, I'm starved. Anyone else want a bite?" He asked.

"Got one of them already," Carl joked, and he and Underhill cackled with humor.

"I'll get some lunch made up," Underhill decided, heading for the kitchen.

On the way, a knock came at the door and he rerouted to answer it, peeking through the door window before opening to find Remus Lupin on the stoop, looking uncomfortable and shuffling foot to foot as he looked about, the Knight Bus still huffing on the corner behind him.

Underhill opened the door and Remus looked up, and held up the parchment Underhill had sent him that morning. "Hullo sir."

"Come in, come in, Remus," Underhill ushered him into the house, "Just about to make lunch, I have some guests, you're more than welcome to joi--what?"

Remus had stopped dead two steps into the room and his eyes were wide with a panicked expression on his face. He looked up at Underhill with an expression between suspicion and anger, and drew his wand, fist tight around the hilt of it. "What's the meaning of this, Underhill?" he hissed. "Did you think I wouldn't pick up the scent the moment I stepped in the house? How many are here, huh? An ambush?"

Underhill looked confused for a moment, then realized. "Wait, Remus, it isn't what you're thinking it is."

"What then?" Remus's voice was lethal, low.

"It's --"

But before Underhill could reply, Carl had stepped into the door of the foyer, his broad shouldered form hunkered in position, ready to defend Underhill with the layers of brute strength he had in his body. Carl's arms were probably as thick as Remus's waist. Between Carl's strength and Remus's magic, it would've been a rather excellent fight.

Both Remus and Carl glared into one another's face with wary expressions.

Underhill stepped between them, arms out stretched. "Hang on. Both of you calm down, I have a perfectly rational explanation, and I honestly just never even thought of this being an issue and it's entirely my own mistake."

Suddenly Storm pushed past his father into the foyer and looked up at Remus with wide eyes. "You smell funny," he said.

"Storm!" Carl snapped. "Back to the living room."

Storm blinked up at Remus, "Are you one, too?"

"STORM!" Carl's voice was a growl.

"Sorry Dad," Storm said and he turned and ran back out of the room.