Moony | The Marauders Series [Book One]

PROLOGUE

Saturday, August 31st, 1971

A faint pop sounded in the quiet evening of a small town near London. The sound barely heard, due to droplets of rain beginning to pelt the narrow street with the waning sunlight.

A pair of battered dress shoes had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, along with the scruffy-bearded, dark-haired owner. He stood looming in the semi-darkness for a moment, stroking his beard with a thoughtful look upon his lined face, before carrying his bulky frame down the street.

Not a single soul came his way and no curious eyes peeked at him from between curtains, only the meowing of a cat in the distance and the soft thudding of his shoes lent him company.

The man eventually halted in front of a small, brick house standing to his right. He seemed to have noticed the lights were still burning brightly inside and so followed the cobbled trail, leading through a quaint flower garden, until he reached the front door. A fist came to knock loudly on the wood and rustling was heard from the inside.

A moment later, a woman peeked her head out. Her short blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ears, made the relief shining in her eyes even more visible.

"Oh, Larkin," she spoke gently, opening the door further to let the man in. "Why'd they keep you so long this time? Did something happen?"

The man didn't answer her right away, instead choosing to walk farther into the warm interior of their house. He pulled off his shoes and untidily threw them towards the coat rack behind the door, before moving to sit on the sofa.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he said finally, waving off her questions, "the Ministry's just been busy with those disappearances lately."

The woman's expression turned worried. "Do you think it has anything to do with that horrible incident with the Muggle Minister's family last year?

"I still remember those photos in the Prophet – strung up like puppets they were."

The man shook his head grimly, for he remembered them too. Only too clearly it seemed. "Nothing like that, Deena. Just run of the mill kind of things, those disappearances have been happening regularly for the past six years now."

The woman looked unimpressed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, so Larkin quickly added, "How're the kids?"

Her face softened somewhat and she hesitantly dropped her hands back to her side. "Asleep, the both of them. They'd wanted to wait up for their father, but eventually they got too tired."

"I'll check on them later," Larkin said with a sigh and closed his eyes briefly.

Their was a moment of silence, until he felt the sofa dip at the additional weight joining him. A warm hand rested on his cheek and stroked the dark hairs there.

"You look tired," she whispered, her hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair, her eyes studying his face. "You should head off to bed."

Larkin met her worried gaze. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said, but there was no sign of movement.

"I mean it," the woman clarified more sternly, "you've been spending more and more time at work and I can see that it drains you. Go to bed."

Larkin nodded, but his body still remained seated. He knew if he even attempted to sleep, his mind would take him back to the papers still stacking high on his office desk. It felt like he hadn't even gotten ahead at all these past months, with so many mysterious incidents and the constant confusion.

Not to mention that year-old case Deena had so graciously reminded him of. Larkin doubted they'd ever find this self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort. It seemed he was just a myth nowadays.