Disintegration Prologue: One Final Test
Prologue
One Final Test
"I'm standing at the crossroads, Believe I'm sinking down."
~Crossroads, Robert Johnson
10th June 1978
"So Potter, what changed?"
For a moment Moody's question just hung in the air and the four of them sat in silence. James stared intently at the burn mark he had first noticed in Dumbledore's desk back in fifth year, and repeated the question to himself several times. After all, he reasoned it was impossible to know of what change Moody was referring. For to James it seemed as if everything had changed. He remembered saying to Lily on the last night of summer that he had never felt so different in a year but now he felt like a completely different person to back then. It hadn't necessarily been a quick transformation, but now, sitting here and looking back it was much more complex than one particular moment.
He glared once more at the mark. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, or why he was here, but he had a feeling that this meeting was what he had been waiting for since last year. There was an air of anticipation from both sides of the large wooden desk, that drew him to the conclusion that it what was about the happen was probably more important than every single one of his NEWTs combined, and he had no intention of failing them, and so was definitely not going to fail this. Whatever this was.
He swallowed and looked up at Moody, "I'm sorry Sir but I'm not really sure what you mean."
Moody stared back at him and James resisted the urge to look away. He had met Alastor Moody on three separate occasions, the first when he was five, the second the previous summer and the final over Christmas. He had always seemed odd, not in the eccentric and slightly amusing way of Dumbledore, but of the more alarming kind that made you feel completely uneasy in his company. He was surprised he hadn't noticed more when he had given his testimony to the Aurors back in December but his mind had been a thousand places at the time. Sitting here however, with only a piece of oak to separate them, James decided that the intense sharpness with which he asked even the smallest of questions made him, there really was no other word for it, terrifying.
"I asked you what changed Potter? At what point did you stop hexing everyone with a green tie and start compiling this," he reached into the pocket of his cloak and pulled out tattered looking sheet of parchment but James recognised it instantly. The hours that he had spent cooped up in the library working on that parchment, he turned and looked at his father.
"I'm not sorry," Charlus Potter defended himself before James could say anything. "It's the reason you're here."
"One of the reasons," Dumbledore corrected, speaking for the first time since he had invited James to sit down. "But, yes, probably the most important."
"How long have you had this?" James asked Moody.
"Since last March," Moody replied.
James turned once more to look at his father, who merely smiled. "Nice to know my letters home were kept private."
"I asked if I could keep it?" Charlus reminded him softly.
"I didn't think you'd send it on."
"You shed," Charlus paused for a second, James knew him well enough to know it was just as much for dramatic effect as anything, "A different light on things."
"Do not underestimate how important this letter was to us James," Dumbledore told him. "Without meaning to you taught all three of us things that we were not aware of. You gave us a few answers that we had been looking for."
"Didn't get any of my own though," he said, smiling in the direction of his father.
"I said all in good time."
"And now?"
"I think you've worked a lot of it out for yourself, both correct and incorrect, and with help of course," Charlus replied. "But yes, you are going to find out a lot during the course of the next hour. We are going to ask many questions about what you know."
"What I know about what?"
"Voldemort." Chalus answer was clear and simple and James said nothing in response. "Then we are going to ask one final thing of you."
"Which is?" James asked.
Charlus held up a hand. "You've waited a year and a half since you wrote this," he indicated the parchment. "What's half an hour more."
"Ok," James nodded slowly.
"Can we begin?" Moody asked impatiently.
"Yes," Charlus unrolled a fresh piece of parchment in front of his and raised his quill. "You may begin?"
"So I asked you Potter," Moody turned to stare at him and James and James straightened himself up and stared back. "What changed to make you write this?"
Lily could feel the piece of parchment crisp against her palm as she walked down that now familiar corridor. She allowed herself a sentimental moment to consider that it could possibly be the last time she would walk this route, clutching the familiar small and precise summons that she had received fortnightly since the start of term. After all, being asked to the Headmaster's office was nothing new to her anymore, meetings with the Headmaster had come with the badge, but to be asked alone, or more accurately without James to accompany her, was a new development.
They had received the notes just after their last exam yesterday, when Professor McGonagall herself had dropped it into her lap when collecting her Transfiguration paper. All she knew was that James and Hestia had also received one. James' meeting had be first, begun just after lunch, hers would follow and Hestia's after that. She had a suspicion that the other Marauders would follow Hestia but she had not dare ask them yet.
She turned the corner and couldn't help but smile as the nerves lifted a little in her stomach. Of course James would have waited for her, had he not been waiting for her all along. He was leaning casually against the wall looking at his watch as if he didn't have a care in the world. He smiled as she approached. "Fancy seeing you here," he greeted her. "Exactly five minutes early like clockwork," he grinned as he leant down and kissed her.
"Well?" she asked him, placing her hand in his. "What's going on? What was the meeting like?"
He considered her for a moment. "It was certainly interesting," he replied slowly lowering his voice.
"Interesting." She lowered her own to match his, "What's going on James?"
He looked about the corridor quickly before remembering his father's stern advice. He lent down, "Room of Requirement when you're finished," he whispered into her ear.
"James," she began, but he placed a finger to her lips. "Trust me," he told her, pushing her towards the office. "Sugar quills," he told the gargolye, waiting for a second before it obediently sprung aside to reveal the spiral staircase it concealed.
"Good luck," he muttered in her ear, before he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"James," she tried one last time, but he merely gave her another little push towards the stairs. "Go."
She looked at him one last time before turning to make her way up of the stairs. When she reached the top she paused, brushed down her uniform, straightened her skirt before she raised a hand to knock on the door. It opened nearly instantly.
"Charlus," she exclaimed.
"Not who you were expecting," he grinned at her, standing aside to let her in.
"Not exactly. Why didn't James tell me you were here?" she replied, leaning up to hug him. He looked tired Lily thought to herself. Charlus Potter had always looked his age, but both he and Anna had always carried an air of youthfullness about them nonetheless. Yet since Christmas the bags around Charlus' eyes had become more prominent even behind his glasses, and his hair seemed greyer than before.
"He wasn't aware himself until an hour ago," he kissed her on the cheek. "How are you Lily?"
"I'm very well, thanks. Anna and yourself?"
"Good, good," he told her. She allowed herself one final glance at him, making a note to be careful how she approached it with James, as Dumbledore walked towards them.
"Sorry to have bothered you today Lily, I'm sure you have much better things to be doing, celebrating for one."
"It's no problem," she replied as she followed the two of them into Dumbledore's office.
"Lily," Charlus began, and it was the first time that Lily had noticed the lone figure sitting behind the desk. He hair was all over the place, and he looked as if he had forgotten to shave for the last few days as a scraggy beard was growing over his face, yet his eyes were sharp and the cane that was placed to the left of him somehow made him seem more severe than weak. It was impossible not to recognise his face, from both that night back in December and the recent articles about his promotion. "I'd like you to meet Alastor Moody, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Moody stood up with a start and shoved a hand in her direction. She took it. "It's nice to meet you Sir."
"Likewise Evans," Moody responded gruffly. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Take a seat Lily," Dumbledore told her coming to her side. "Let's not keep you any longer than we have to on this glorious day." He indicated the plush armchair that Lily had sat on during her meetings with Dumbledore this year and she took it quickly.
There was a moment of silence as Charlus adjusted the papers in front of him and Dumbledore conjured her a glass of water and refilled his own. Lily's glanced around the office quickly but her eyes seemed unable to leave Moody for long, who was staring at her intently as if trying desperately to work something out, whatever this was though Lily was highly unsure.
"I've been warned not to underestimate you Evans," Moody spoke at last. "Apparently you could prove to be a most useful asset."
"May I ask what for, Sir?" she replied calmly, taking a small sip of water.
"What would be you guess?" he lent forward and took a sip of what Lily was sure was Firewhisky from his own glass.
"I suppose," she began, before pausing slightly, "If it's not to presumptuous to say, it has something to do with the Order to the Pheonix."
Moody's eyes widened quickly, and he swallowed the Firewhisky with difficulty as he stared at her, whether he was impressed or about to hex her Lily couldn't quite tell. A small, smug smile came across Charlus face and he lent back in his seat. "You were told you not to underestimate Alastor," Charlus told Moody as he grinned at Lily.
"How in Merlin's name, girl-" Moody began.
"I imagine we were made known to Lily late last year," Charlus explained quickly, giving Lily a reassuring smile, encouraging her to continue.
"Some of you were there, back in December," Lily told Moody calmly.
"No one that wasn't part of the Ministry," he interrupted her.
"A few that weren't on duty that night. Kingsley Shakleholt for one. Alice Longbottom another. They directed Sirius out of the building but wouldn't accompany us, something that Alice didn't seem to happy about. They told us they would meet us at the hospital and Kingsley asked Sirius if possible not to speak until they got there. Why didn't they just accompany us to St Mungos all along, unless they were trying to hide the fact that they were there."
Moody lay his hands down on the table for a second. "You were in a lot of pain that night Evans," for a moment Lily saw something else, perhaps compassion flick across his face. "I saw you when Sirius Black carried you out and I was the one alongside Kingsley who took his testimony."
"It didn't occur to me until afterwards," she admitted. "I thought about that night a lot in the weeks that followed and it was easier to try and piece the puzzle of what had been happening around me together than to focus on what I was going through. Had gone through," she corrected herself quickly, although she noted Charlus' gaze flick down to the table and she considered that he knew at least pieces of what had happened between her and James following that night.
Dumbledore raised a hand. "Let's start from the beginning shall we Alastor."
Moody was still staring at her, and she wondered if perhaps she had impressed him. "Fine," he muttered, although his tone suggested that he would have much rather continued down this line of questioning. Lily braced herself for what was about to come. "Evans I want to talk to about last school year, February to be precise, you had a run in with Lawrence Mulciber and Michael Avery."
Chapter One: A Lesson In Darkness