Marauders - Always - Part One

CCVI: A Nightmare Standing Up

Marjorie Underhill woke with a start, too, though she was many, many miles away from Iceland. There was no crackling fire to greet her, only the moonlight streaming through her bedroom window, casting everything in lavender-blue. She stared at the gnarled tree outside.

A soft sprinkle of snow drifted past the window pane, and she pushed herself up, smiling at the first flakes of the new season as they sparkled and danced through the sky. She got up and went over, pushing the window up and breathing deep the scent of the cold and ice as it crackled, imagining the flakes were making soft music, like the high end of the piano's keys.

Marjorie was just about back to sleep when she heard a thump in the hallway and she sat up. A familiar muttered curse and she smiled to herself, pulling her dressing robe from her reading chair and sliding it onto her shoulders before poking her head out the door. There was her father in the hallway, just about to slip into his room.

"Evening daddy," she said quietly and he looked up from where he was turning the knob on his door with practice stealth.

"Nothing gets by you," he muttered, shaking his head.

"I learned from the best," she smiled. Then, "How was the First Task?" her brows cinched in concern.

Harry Underhill sighed heavily and shook his head. "Those poor kids," he muttered, "And the poor dragons as well..." He drew a deep breath, "But I must say, Harry Potter performed as brilliantly as I ever could've imagined. Even Amos had to agree... he was quite impressive. Even if he was of-age and trained as hard as the other champions, he still would've been impressive. But to consider he's only 14 and never trained a day in his life, apart from quidditch... He really is his father's son."

Marjorie smiled, knowing what a great compliment such a thing was coming from her father, who had always held James Potter in the highest regard. "So he made it through, then?"

"Made it through - with top marks! Tied with Krum for the very top spot!" her father bragged. "Summoned a broomstick and drew the dragon off her nest... had the egg in near record time." He sighed, remembering the move, he smiled, "James would've been damned proud."

Marjorie smiled tightly. She didn't remember James Potter personally, only from the myriad of stories her father had told her over the years. She hesitated, then, "I take it there wasn't any security issues like you were worried about, then?"

Underhill shook his head, "No sign of Black." His voice hardened and he stared at his hand on the door knob. He sighed.

"Daddy, maybe it's time to let the Ministry handle it. It isn't your case anymore."

"It's always been my case. It'll always be my case. They can put Kingsley on it all they wish, but that case was mine. I was the one who made the arrest, I was the one who --"

"Daddy," Marjorie said, her voice lowering, "I know. I know you feel responsible. But it isn't your fault he got out."

Underhill stared at his own hand, at the way the wrinkles in his skin puckered around his knuckles and the scars that resided, knicks in the flesh that he'd collected over years of hard work at the Ministry. He'd taken down so many Death Eaters in the years immediately following the end of the first war, starting with Sirius Black and, later, Fenrir Greyback. But it didn't feel like enough. It wasn't ever enough because he couldn't arrest Voldemort - can't arrest a dead man - and he felt the deaths of James and Lily Potter could never be fully avenged as a result. Having Black on the loose was that much more of a slap to the face. What he wouldn't do to have it to do over again and just take Black out when he had the chance.

He could still see Sirius Black, head thrown back, laughing.

Laughing.

The sound of that howling sound echoed in Underhill's nightmares. So callous, so uncaring, so blatantly unashamed for the betrayal that none of them had ever expected. Of all the people to have back-stabbed his friends... Underhill still couldn't believe it.