Harry Potter and the WWII AU of Doom (part 3)
...because I can't seem to leave it alone. Here's the next bit of it -- and as this is the first part with the Marauders in it, I'd really love it if you guys would tell me if it works or not. I'm really captivated by the idea of the Marauders during the Blitz, and doing espionage work in the middle of a war that's tearing apart both the Muggle and the Wizarding worlds alike, but that wasn't the original plan for this thing, so I still have some doubts.
Anyway.
Thank you again to everyone who took the time to wish me a happy birthday! You guys rock. I had an *awesome* birthday, by the way. Amanda took me to see La Boheme at the Kennedy Center, and we sat in the box and drank champagne and made out like a couple of high school kids. And? She gave me my engagement ring tonight. It's absolutely beautiful -- it used to be her great-grandmother's, and when she gave it to me I almost cried out of sheer happiness. Nights like these make life worth living. It was a sparkling, brilliant night; the two of us in formal dresses and jewelry, done up like we rarely have the chance to be, and I'll remember it for as long as I live.
Now that I've gushed for a little bit...
------
Remus Lupin, British citizen, hadn't been to England since he was ten and had been bitten by a werewolf. His parents, unwilling to put him at the mercy of Britain's draconian Department of Werewolf Control, had moved to Europe immediately after the attack, and Remus grew up on the Continent, home-schooled by his mother while his father went from capital to capital on assignment for the Times. Remus, whose hero-worship for his father knew no bounds, had grown up to follow in the man's footsteps, and had been hired by the Times' Berlin offices only a few days after turning eighteen.
Five years later, he was almost ready to quit. The increasing restrictions as to what he could and could not write were not only irritating, but offensive to his ethics. Unfortunately, the Times was Britain's only wizard-run newspaper, and that left him with a profound lack of options, unless he wanted to work for a European paper, which he emphatically did not.
Still, thirteen years as a werewolf had left him used to making compromises, and at least working for the Times kept him in hotel rooms and restaurant-cooked meals. He could also move from capital to capital as assigned, and never stayed anywhere longer than three months. So far, no one had guessed his secret. Remus planned to keep it that way.
He was less than pleased by his newest assignment. Not only would a return to England make keeping his secret more difficult, but events in Europe were coming to a head, and he desperately wanted to be there to record them, whether or not his accounts ever made it to print. He wasn't remotely interested in Smith-Pinkersley's latest foolishness, not while Hansel Grindelwald was mucking about in Berlin with a swastika on his arm.
The first thing he did upon his return to London was to go to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. The carefree, unconcerned atmosphere was disorienting, and, given the events he'd recently witnessed in Europe, almost unbelievable. The only two people in the whole pub who looked as if they had more on their mind than their drinks were two dark-haired young men close to his own age. They sat with their heads together over their pints, and spoke in low whispers and with serious faces.
Remus watched them idly, a niggling sense of familiarity tugging at the back of his brain. When the nearer of the pair turned around to glare fiercely at him, he figured out what it was. The man's handsome, aristocratic features and pale grey eyes identified him as clearly as if he were wearing a name-tag, and after a moment, Remus recognizes the bespectacled features of the second man.
Schooling his features to a careful blankness, Remus turned back to his pint, but his calm face belied the question now burning in his brain. What was Orion Black's eldest son doing in a pub with James Potter? Potter's father, Kevin, was Orion Black's greatest - perhaps only - political rival, and for Sirius Black to be sharing a pint with James would be strange even without all of the whispering.
Of course, given that Sirius Black was known mostly for his society-page excesses, and that James Potter, who was first-string Seeker for the Chudley Cannons, moved in the same circles, it could have been nothing more than a friendly drink. To Remus, who'd been in and out of Berlin for the past twelve years, their grim faces and low, intense voices screamed 'conspirators' from a kilometer away, especially as they'd both made it clear on earlier occasions that they were continuing their fathers' feud.
Remus considered his options. When Black glared at him again, he made up his mind, picked up his pint, and went over to take the empty seat at their table.
Sirius Black could do 'haughtily offended' every bit as well as his father could. "Excuse me," he began.
"You're excused," Remus told him. "You're also quite obviously planning something, so unless you want to tip off all of London, I suggest you stop acting like a pair of particularly paranoid revolutionaries."
"We're not--" Potter began, but Black cut him off.
"How did you know?"
Remus rolled his eyes, inwardly hiding his elation at the confirmation of his suspicions. "Please. The pair of you have been at loggerheads since school, at least if one believes the Times. Add that to the adversarial relationship between your respective fathers, mix in the fact that I've just come from the Continent and so have an eye for conspiracy, and it's pretty damned obvious."
Potter winced. Black's face was unreadable, and Remus was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the danger he was in. Then Black smiled ruefully, the expression surprisingly charming.
"He's got us, Potter. Some conspirators we are." He slanted a look at Remus through surprisingly long lashes. "You've got me at a disadvantage, though. You know my name, but I don't know yours."
"Remus Lupin." He took Black's hand, then Potter's, trying not to betray the slight flutter in his chest that he felt when Black ran a thumb briefly over the back of his hand.
"I'm Sirius Black; this is James Potter. Let me order you another," he added, with an elegant wave at the bartender. "Did you say you'd been overseas? Where have you been?"
"Germany, mostly," Remus said. "I've been back and forth between Munich, Berlin, and Nuremberg for the past four years, not counting the occasional trip to Paris or Vienna." He wasn't sure why, as chance had given him the best inside scoop he's ever likely to have, but something compelled him to add: "I work for the Times."
"A reporter?" Potter looked wary, Black delighted.
"Sort of," Remus admitted ruefully. "They never print anything I write."
"Let me guess," Potter grinned. "You've been covering the Grindelwald situation. The Ministry's not anxious to have the truth of that get out."
"For the Greater Good," Remus said sarcastically. Black looked as if his birthday and Christmas had come early and simultaneously.
"You've got to meet my father," he said. "He's really keen on making sure that people know what's happening on the Continent."
***
* Part One * Part Two *
( backstory, sort of)
***
Author's Notes: Okay, explanation time. As this is an AU, Sirius was in Slytherin, and James was in Gryffindor, so they weren't exactly best friends at Hogwarts. Sirius was in Slytherin because at this point, the Muggle-born vs. pureblood issue is not the all-consuming issue that it was by the 1970's. The pure-blooded families felt less threatened, and as a result were less reactionary, making it easier for Sirius to toe the family line. Also, during this time period, the idea of rebelling against one's parents was much more shocking than it was in the 70's.
My thanks to
__sine, who beta-reads this for me, and lets me babble about it.
As stated earlier, I'm going to be a feedback whore about this one. As in, I'm gonna beg for it. Well, maybe not beg, but ask emphatically. Do you like it? Love it? Hate it? I want to know!
I'm also looking for a title for this, and will gladly take suggestions.
Anyway.
Thank you again to everyone who took the time to wish me a happy birthday! You guys rock. I had an *awesome* birthday, by the way. Amanda took me to see La Boheme at the Kennedy Center, and we sat in the box and drank champagne and made out like a couple of high school kids. And? She gave me my engagement ring tonight. It's absolutely beautiful -- it used to be her great-grandmother's, and when she gave it to me I almost cried out of sheer happiness. Nights like these make life worth living. It was a sparkling, brilliant night; the two of us in formal dresses and jewelry, done up like we rarely have the chance to be, and I'll remember it for as long as I live.
Now that I've gushed for a little bit...
------
Remus Lupin, British citizen, hadn't been to England since he was ten and had been bitten by a werewolf. His parents, unwilling to put him at the mercy of Britain's draconian Department of Werewolf Control, had moved to Europe immediately after the attack, and Remus grew up on the Continent, home-schooled by his mother while his father went from capital to capital on assignment for the Times. Remus, whose hero-worship for his father knew no bounds, had grown up to follow in the man's footsteps, and had been hired by the Times' Berlin offices only a few days after turning eighteen.
Five years later, he was almost ready to quit. The increasing restrictions as to what he could and could not write were not only irritating, but offensive to his ethics. Unfortunately, the Times was Britain's only wizard-run newspaper, and that left him with a profound lack of options, unless he wanted to work for a European paper, which he emphatically did not.
Still, thirteen years as a werewolf had left him used to making compromises, and at least working for the Times kept him in hotel rooms and restaurant-cooked meals. He could also move from capital to capital as assigned, and never stayed anywhere longer than three months. So far, no one had guessed his secret. Remus planned to keep it that way.
He was less than pleased by his newest assignment. Not only would a return to England make keeping his secret more difficult, but events in Europe were coming to a head, and he desperately wanted to be there to record them, whether or not his accounts ever made it to print. He wasn't remotely interested in Smith-Pinkersley's latest foolishness, not while Hansel Grindelwald was mucking about in Berlin with a swastika on his arm.
The first thing he did upon his return to London was to go to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. The carefree, unconcerned atmosphere was disorienting, and, given the events he'd recently witnessed in Europe, almost unbelievable. The only two people in the whole pub who looked as if they had more on their mind than their drinks were two dark-haired young men close to his own age. They sat with their heads together over their pints, and spoke in low whispers and with serious faces.
Remus watched them idly, a niggling sense of familiarity tugging at the back of his brain. When the nearer of the pair turned around to glare fiercely at him, he figured out what it was. The man's handsome, aristocratic features and pale grey eyes identified him as clearly as if he were wearing a name-tag, and after a moment, Remus recognizes the bespectacled features of the second man.
Schooling his features to a careful blankness, Remus turned back to his pint, but his calm face belied the question now burning in his brain. What was Orion Black's eldest son doing in a pub with James Potter? Potter's father, Kevin, was Orion Black's greatest - perhaps only - political rival, and for Sirius Black to be sharing a pint with James would be strange even without all of the whispering.
Of course, given that Sirius Black was known mostly for his society-page excesses, and that James Potter, who was first-string Seeker for the Chudley Cannons, moved in the same circles, it could have been nothing more than a friendly drink. To Remus, who'd been in and out of Berlin for the past twelve years, their grim faces and low, intense voices screamed 'conspirators' from a kilometer away, especially as they'd both made it clear on earlier occasions that they were continuing their fathers' feud.
Remus considered his options. When Black glared at him again, he made up his mind, picked up his pint, and went over to take the empty seat at their table.
Sirius Black could do 'haughtily offended' every bit as well as his father could. "Excuse me," he began.
"You're excused," Remus told him. "You're also quite obviously planning something, so unless you want to tip off all of London, I suggest you stop acting like a pair of particularly paranoid revolutionaries."
"We're not--" Potter began, but Black cut him off.
"How did you know?"
Remus rolled his eyes, inwardly hiding his elation at the confirmation of his suspicions. "Please. The pair of you have been at loggerheads since school, at least if one believes the Times. Add that to the adversarial relationship between your respective fathers, mix in the fact that I've just come from the Continent and so have an eye for conspiracy, and it's pretty damned obvious."
Potter winced. Black's face was unreadable, and Remus was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the danger he was in. Then Black smiled ruefully, the expression surprisingly charming.
"He's got us, Potter. Some conspirators we are." He slanted a look at Remus through surprisingly long lashes. "You've got me at a disadvantage, though. You know my name, but I don't know yours."
"Remus Lupin." He took Black's hand, then Potter's, trying not to betray the slight flutter in his chest that he felt when Black ran a thumb briefly over the back of his hand.
"I'm Sirius Black; this is James Potter. Let me order you another," he added, with an elegant wave at the bartender. "Did you say you'd been overseas? Where have you been?"
"Germany, mostly," Remus said. "I've been back and forth between Munich, Berlin, and Nuremberg for the past four years, not counting the occasional trip to Paris or Vienna." He wasn't sure why, as chance had given him the best inside scoop he's ever likely to have, but something compelled him to add: "I work for the Times."
"A reporter?" Potter looked wary, Black delighted.
"Sort of," Remus admitted ruefully. "They never print anything I write."
"Let me guess," Potter grinned. "You've been covering the Grindelwald situation. The Ministry's not anxious to have the truth of that get out."
"For the Greater Good," Remus said sarcastically. Black looked as if his birthday and Christmas had come early and simultaneously.
"You've got to meet my father," he said. "He's really keen on making sure that people know what's happening on the Continent."
***
* Part One * Part Two *
( backstory, sort of)
***
Author's Notes: Okay, explanation time. As this is an AU, Sirius was in Slytherin, and James was in Gryffindor, so they weren't exactly best friends at Hogwarts. Sirius was in Slytherin because at this point, the Muggle-born vs. pureblood issue is not the all-consuming issue that it was by the 1970's. The pure-blooded families felt less threatened, and as a result were less reactionary, making it easier for Sirius to toe the family line. Also, during this time period, the idea of rebelling against one's parents was much more shocking than it was in the 70's.
My thanks to
__sine, who beta-reads this for me, and lets me babble about it.
As stated earlier, I'm going to be a feedback whore about this one. As in, I'm gonna beg for it. Well, maybe not beg, but ask emphatically. Do you like it? Love it? Hate it? I want to know!
I'm also looking for a title for this, and will gladly take suggestions.