(Clandestine) Meetings
Saturday, November 1st, approx. 5:00
“Dorcas, please? I don’t want to have to talk to him. He won’t listen if it’s me,” Regulus pleads, but to no avail.
“Sunday is my only day off from this shitty place,” Dorcas counters.
“Yes, yes, workers rights and all that, but what if it didn’t count on company time?”
“So I wouldn’t even be getting paid?”
“I will literally give you £1,000 to do this. Quick and easy. 8am, just show up.”
“You make a promising offer. What if he doesn’t answer?”
“He’s a morning person, he’ll answer. Trust me.”
His persuasiveness wins. Regulus doesn't like pleading, despises it, even, but in instances like these when he's trying to convince his a good friend and coworker to set up a meeting with his brother's new brother--one that he happens to abhor--it becomes necessary. On necessary occasions, which were occasions forced by his parents in the last 3 months as a last resort effort, Regulus had no choice but to interact with the man. Regulus hated every one of them, and James did too, he could tell. Or maybe James just hated Regulus, it was hard to decipher.
“Ok. Fine. You have a deal or whatever,” Dorcas finally relents, and Regulus could’ve cried with relief, if he ever cried.
“Thank you. I hate having to go to his house, but you know how it is.”
“You hate arranging meetings more?” Dorcas concludes, then laughs.
“You’re so mean sometimes, you know that?”
Dorcas scoffs. “Please. That’s actually hilarious coming from you, and if you disagree, deal’s off. £1,000 or not.”
Regulus mutters something under his breath, making sure Dorcas couldn’t hear what he said, and thanks her again for agreeing to meet with James.
James fucking Potter.
Regulus tries very hard to never think about James Potter, because it fills him with a feeling he didn’t like to admit to; jealousy. Regulus hated when he thought of James, because it made him think of Sirius, and he hated thinking of Sirius more. Easily enough, Regulus could tell himself he hated James. Regulus would never be able to hate Sirius. He would never be able to hate his brother, no matter how much his parents insisted he did. But it was very hard to confront that for Regulus, something he had to do whenever he thought of, or saw, or heard anything to do with James Potter.
So, he avoided James as much as he could, which admittedly wasn’t much. He still worked for his parents. He still went on “missions” to try to slowly convince the Potters to sell (which in Regulus’ opinion had the opposite effect), and he still acted like he could tolerate being around James for long-ish periods of time.
It was unfair, truly.
But Regulus did deal with it. He loitered around Potterly Trees, trying his best to convince James to sell. He had tried going after Euphemia and Fleamont Potter once, the actual owners of the business, but it was too intimidating. When Regulus had knocked on the door, Euphemia had answered and asked if Regulus had come to join Sirius and if he was, their door was always open. Regulus would’ve preferred if she’d yelled at him or turned him away. The idea of Euphemia Potter had kept him away for a week until he was eventually sent back.
“I’m telling Barty and Evan you made me do this, by the way,” Dorcas says quickly, laughing gleefully, before she hangs up. Regulus sighed. Of course she would, because for some reason, his friends took pleasure in tormenting him about how much he avoided James.
Barty and Evan were his age, about 25, and were hired a few years ago as bodyguards for Regulus when Starry Night started really expanding. Regulus had already known them from school, and was at the very least acquaintances with them, but the fact they now had to spend many hours of many days together was what really solidified the friendship. Dorcas, Regulus had been friends with since his parents hired her when she was 18, and he 17. He was still in school then, but they bonded quickly when he came to work. When he turned 18 and got a degree, being some of the youngest at Starry Night and closest to Walburga and Orion, his parents, they really hit it off and have been friends ever since.
Regulus knows he would’ve left by now, like Sirius had, if it wasn’t for his friends. They keep him sane, and safe.
Sirius. How does Regulus even begin to explain Sirius if he can’t even think of him?
Regulus knows Sirius, and probably James by extension, hates him. For many different reasons that he doesn’t care to delve into often.
So, at least Dorcas was taking care of this tiny thing. Talking to James on the actual farm was bad enough, but at 8 in the morning? Regulus simply wouldn’t survive it, no matter how much he claimed to be a morning person.
He sends a quick email to his parents, letting them know it will be taken care of, and an official meeting should be on the horizon.
Now? They wait.
The next morning, Regulus wakes up to a call from Doras letting him know it is taken care of and she’s promptly be falling asleep once she gets the money.
“I knew you were only friends for the money,” Regulus jokes as he transferrs the pounds.
Dorcas makes a small humming noise of content, before replying merrily, “Ah, I’ve been caught in my gold digging ways. If you give me another thousand I guess I can forgive you.”
“Right,” Regulus says sarcastically, before Dorcas chuckles at him and hangs up, most likely to actually fall asleep.
Well, someone would be calling her soon enough, hopefully. Or emailing her. Either way, Regulus would know if James agreed. And then he’d be stuck with the more troubling matter of actually talking to James at the meeting, and letting James talk to Walburga and Orion.
________________________
November 3rd, approx. 10:00am
The meeting couldn’t come slowly enough. From what Regulus gathered, Sirius and James had quickly scraped up a lawyer from somewhere, and had given him a brief introduction to Euphemia and Fleamont before the meeting. He had no idea what they hoped to accomplish from this.
Dorcas had worked out with the other lawyer to meet in a barn that the Potters owned, which they mostly used as a little shop to sell things for extra money. It was mostly stuff from other farmers in the area, and furniture and Christmas decorations. The Potters, or maybe it was Starry Night, had constructed a large table in the middle of a cleared out part of the main floor. It was a simple building, really, but there was a small second level that Regulus knew about. Maybe there were other rooms, who knew? He’d never been in a barn before.
Walburga and Orion, on the left side of the table, were the epitome of class. Both dressed business casual, but despite that, their chins were held high and cold, with mean eyes left no question to who they thought would win whatever business battle this was.
The man who Regulus could only assume was the Potter’s lawyer had on a shabby jacket, slightly messy curls, and a business satchel that looked like it had seen twenty years of heavy use. Clearly, he was hired very impromptu as the Blacks had hoped would happen, and very cheaply. He was perfect - for them. Not as much for the Potters.
“Dorcas Meadowes,” Dorcas introduces, shaking hands with the man as they sat down across each other. Regulus sat next to his mother, who sat next to his father, who sat next to Dorcas. On the other side of him was Mulciber, a higher up in Starry Night, and a few more important people in the business. On the Potter’s side, it was just the lawyer (across from Dorcas), Sirius next to him, James next to Sirius, and finally James’ parents.
“I have to confess, I’ve heard of you,” the lawyer says. “You’re a success story at my firm. Big deal. I’m Remus Lupin - just a normal graduate.”
“Well, it’s great to meet you Remus. Shall we get started?”
Remus, despite being a bit of a fan, clearly, held himself together remarkably well, especially considering Dorcas’ skills.
“So, let’s agree on an asking price-” Dorcas would say, but evidently the Potters were not totally set on selling, so Remus would just respond, “Let’s not.”
Regulus wasn’t sure how legal or formal it was, but he also didn’t care too much - Remus was holding his land in a war against Dorcas, and that was reason enough to like him.
“Let’s make one thing clear - do you want to sell Potterly Trees to Starry Night, or not?” Dorcas asks, after about 30 minutes of going back and forth with Remus. Some of the glamour of the original comeback had worn off, and it was starting to show that Remus was relying on his tactics from school rather than experience. He still dabbled heavily in sarcasm, but Dorcas was starting to gain territory.
“That’s…complicated,” Remus says, letting out a deep breath as he thought his words through. “We don’t know how this season is going to go. If Potterly Trees does well this Christmas, Starry Night will get the credit, and the money.”
“We have an offer of £300,000. Will that not be enough, surely, to cover at least 3 years of this company? What else would you make back?” Dorcas asks, so confident that they would say yes. She was always confident going into meetings, Regulus noticed.
“This company represents more than just monetary value. Surely, Starry Night would understand that?” Remus shoots back, cocking his head and playing by Dorcas’ rules. Regulus was sure Remus knew that Starry Night was most definitely not an actual Christmasy, feel-good, family-focused company. He was using that persona to his advantage. What Remus didn’t have in experience, he made up for in pure sass.
“So you, and the rest of Potterly Trees-” Dorcas gestures meagerly to the gathering of Potters and Black “-believe that it can do well? That it has potential beyond the former sales?”
“If I may,” Euphemia cuts in, scooching her chair back and standing up with no hesitation. “Do not judge our former years. As you know, that little mite ruined many of our best trees. But we have recovered well this year - we still have the potential to save our business.”
“Do you?” Orion, standing up as well, asks icily. “Many of the citizens of Godric’s Hollow have already come to buy our trees, as your company hasn’t been able to provide these last few years. How can you be sure the community would even trust you enough to buy again?”
“The community of Godric’s Hollow is good. They could provide for us more than you ever could, really,” Euphemia defends, and sniffs. Dorcas’ eyes light up.
“Give us a minute,” she quickly says, and brings Orion, Walburga, and the others in the company to a corner. Regulus is admittedly worried about what she's planned, but he has an inkling. It would not be good for the Potters, that much was for sure.
Dorcas returns, straightening her blazer smartly before addressing Remus.
“How sure are you that Potterly Trees will be able to cater enough to the community to raise enough that would match our offer?”
Remus shares a look with Euphemia, who is still standing and gives him a nod. He turns back to Dorcas and sticks his head high.
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“In one year? You’ll be able to make enough to equal, or even rival, our offer of £300,000? You’re confident about that?”
Remus didn’t even have a chance to answer - it was James who stood up and said with that air of arrogance his voice always seemed to carry. “Very. We could make more.”
“How much more?”
“At least £50,000,” James randomly guesses, and gestures a bit wildly with his hands.
“Could-” Dorcas smiles, ready for the kill, “Could I get that in writing?”
“James,” Remus cautions quietly. “I’ve seen your statistics. Can you?”
“Remus, my man, you gotta trust me on this.”
Remus sighs heavily, and, clearly prepared to “lose” his first case, looks to Euphemia and Fleamont for confirmation. Fleamont shrugs, and clasps his wife’s hand. They both give him a look of approvement.
“Yes. We can draw up the contract now if there’s a printer somewhere.”
There was, but it took another hour to agree on the specifics;
Potterly Trees would have to raise £350,000 by December 25th, or they would sell to Starry Night for nothing. If they did raise the money, they would keep the farm, and Starry Night would never bother them again.
This was where Remus really came in handy - double checking the documents for any hidden footnotes that would destroy the entire operation. In the first printing, Starry Night had tried to sneak in the idea that all the money would be solely from tree sales. In the next printing, Starry Night tried to say that none of it could come from tree sales.
It was also declared that the money would be before taxes, and just be the gross income from November 4th through December 24th at 11:59pm.
If they were even a pound short, Potterly Trees could not use any of their previously saved money. It was income only, but that income could be anything from donations to sales. However, no donations could be given by Potterly Trees or Starry Night employees.
At approx. 1:30pm, a shaky, yet official, agreement between Starry Night and Potterly trees was finally drawn up. The specifics were hashed out, both parties were happy, and everyone got a signed copy of the document.
It was decided; Potterly Trees would have to raise £350,000 by December 25th, or be forced to close its doors forever at the cruel hands of corporate companies.
“Do you honestly think they have a chance?” Regulus asks Dorcas as they left. James, Remus and Sirius were all getting into one car, James’ parents in another. Starry Night had 3 times as many for each executive and their driver, along with Regulus and Dorcas.
“A small one. Not much of one though, if I’m being honest,” Dorcas admitts. “It was a bit pathetic seeing how badly James wants to keep it.”
“Isn’t everything he does pathetic?”
“Isn’t thinking about him as much as you do pathetic?”
“I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re implying.”
“Right.” Dorcas looks him up and down and rolls her eyes. Regulus gives her a disgusted look, and shudders. “And you care so much about Potterly Trees then, because…”
Regulus struggles for an answer, before flat out denying it. “I don’t care about their little company at all.”
“So you don’t think it’d be sad if Effie and Fleamont have to close down their family business and succumb to the capitalist ideals of this country? Or do you just not want to see the spirit of Christmas so easily crumble?”
“Effie? When did you start calling Euphemia that?” Regulus asks, deciding to ignore the other parts of the questions and his motives.
“She told me to when I was emailing her. Don’t deflect.”
“I’m not deflecting. I’m just curious, that’s all.”
“Uh huh,” Dorcas says sarcastically, her eyes going wide and her head bobbing in an exaggerated nod.
“Since when did this become an interrogation? I was just wondering what the outcome of this company would be in a purely business viewpoint. Plus, Sirius is involved, I know that much, and is it so wrong to care about my brother?”
There were a lot of things Dorcas could’ve said that she chose not to. Regulus appreciates that, as playing the big brother guilt card was a bit of a low move no matter how well it worked. He knew that one day, she would snap and he would regret it, but today was not that day.
“Fine. Have it your way,” Dorcas shrugs. “But I know there’s more to this obsession.”
“Obsession? Dorcas, you’re grasping at straws.”
Dorcas rolls her eyes, and gets into her car, driving away slowly. Regulus stands next to his own car, and after one last look at the Potter family, gets into his own vehicle and instructs his driver to follow Dorcas.
The cars took them back to the headquarters of Starry Night, about an hour away in London where almost everything pertaining to Starry Night took place. The fact that the meeting was held at a property owned by Potterly Trees was a rare exception, and showed that Starry Night really did want the company. It made sense. Potterly Trees seemed to be the only company around that could grow Douglas Firs, a specific type of tree Regulus guessed everyone liked more than others. They grew it plentifully, too, with it taking up about half of their land.
“Adequate, may I even say superb job, Dorcas. The money should already be in your account,” Orion says, and waves his arm off-handedly.
“I’ll be sure to check later. I trust that it is,” Dorcas replies gracefully.
“Well, that’s all, then. You know what to do for the rest of the day.”
Regulus has no clue what it is that keeps Dorcas busy during the day, but he knows it's something important, like checking finances or negotiating deals. Dorcas just nods at Orion as he enters the building.
Really, Regulus should’ve been doing things as well for his job. His job was in a grey area - he was paid, yes, but not taxed because his parents passed it off as donations. He still worked, but that was also a grey area because it varied quite a bit.
See, Regulus had been to college. Of course he had.
He majored in Marketing and History, both subjects he was marvellous at and knowledgeable in. Marketing was what his parents wanted - so, of course, that’s what he did. But he had free reign on his second major, something they insisted again that he get, so he studied history. Oh, did Regulus love history. Every single bit of it. Modern history. Mediaeval. He really soared during the ancient history year, because he loved that topic just so much. History was fascinating.
Regulus used his marketing degree the most, seeing how it was what his job entailed. He simply “suggested” ads, ideas, and anything that could boost business, and his parents ran with it. He was very good at his job, usually having a good idea how people worked. The best part about all the classes in marketing Regulus took was the added bonus of the psychology aspect. He was taught how the mind of the general public worked with no extra classes. It was a very useful degree, if he did say so himself.
From what Regulus heard, Sirius went to college too, but one of the ones more known for partying than education. He’d gone with James, last Regulus had seen, and had majored in something silly, like Forestry. It made a fair amount of sense, actually, considering his job had a lot to do with trees, but it was still odd to hear about. Regulus didn’t care to learn what James had majored in.
Once Orion and Walburga had entered the building, Dorcas turns to address Regulus, Barty and Evan.
“I don’t really have a lot to do. I say we visit Pandora.”
“I second that,” Barty says, and Evan raises his hand to show he thirds it.
“Don’t you have work or something?”
“I have no meetings, and anything else doesn’t actually take too long,” Dorcas says honestly. “Plus, maybe she can give us odds about Potterly Trees. You know she loves betting.”
________________________
Barty parks the car outside a large, mostly glass building, and Regulus enters confidently. It’s one of the many benefits of being the son of the owners of a large company - people automatically respect you, and don’t question it nearly as much when you try to get into places.
Pandora’s laboratory is on the top floor of the building, perfect for sunlight and growth of whatever plants she’s testing. Really, it is the top floor of the building.
Furnished with shelves of plants, and tables with paper labels and trays, Pandora’s lab looks more like a greenhouse or a hippie’s apartment than an actual laboratory. Truthfully, there are a few vials of brightly coloured liquids lying around which appeals to that aspect, but Regulus half suspects they’re fake.
Pandora is near the back of the spacious room, visible only by her large white lab coat. It’s really not even a room - just a large open space, completely gutted except for a few necessary pillars and, of course, the floor to ceiling windows on every side of it. She’s hidden by the leaf of a large…something that’s a vibrant green with a large streak of yellow in the middle of it. Rudely, it reminds Regulus of Remus’ face.
“Pandora!” Dorcas calls, her voice getting close to an echo. The lab coat turns around, and a hand moves the leaf away from a face, one that surprisingly doesn’t belong to Pandora.
“You’re not Pandora,” Barty says, looking at the blonde man who stands behind the leaf with a questioning expression, like he couldn’t actually tell it wasn’t.
A clatter was heard near the man, next to another large plant. A hand, more delicate than the other, shoots up from behind it.
“I’m here!”
There she was. Pandora’s voice reminds Regulus of ringing bells - she’d be hard to miss, and hard to not listen to. It was incredibly clear, and very bright.
“Who’s the guy?” Evan asks, wiggling his eyebrows. While Regulus couldn’t see her, and Pandora couldn’t see them, he could only assume she was rolling her eyes and guessing what her brother was doing. See, Pandora and Evan were twins - fraternal, yes, but no less twins. And as most twins and even siblings had, they always seemed to know what the other one was thinking or doing in some sense.
“His name is Xenophilius - he’s my assistant, basically. The company sent him,” Pandora grunts, and a large snap was heard. Pandora muttered “Finally,” and came into view, standing next to the man.
“Hey you guys! Xeno, say hi - this is my brother and our friends.”
Xenophilius, apparently nicknamed Xeno, waves a bit shyly at them. Nobody waves back but Evan, grinning creepily as he does.
“Stop terrorising him, Evan,” Pandora instructs, and Evan sighs and returns to normal. As normal as Evan can be, atleast.
“So what’s up?” Pandora inquires, dropping something squirming into a jar and screwing it tightly.
“Starry Night is going to buy Potterly Trees,” Regulus informs her.
“Maybe,” Dorcas corrects. “But probably.”
“Why only probably?”
“Dorcas made a stupid deal.”
“Dorcas doesn’t make stupid deals, stupid.”
“Right on, Pandora. But I made a deal that’s almost guaranteed to go our way, so it was really more stupid for them."
“That sounds more accurate,” Pandora nods. Regulus rolls his eyes at the both of them. “Good for you guys. I can’t wait to study their soil, personally. Besides those pesky death eaters, they really had something great growing in their trees. Those douglas firs were really something special. It's such a pity the bugs killed so many of them.”
“Why not just ask?” Barty asks. “It seems easier that way than waiting.”
“Have you ever actually interacted with them, Bartemius?”
Barty shrugs. “I’ve stood next to Regulus and listened while he complained about intimidating them from afar. Does that count?”
“No. Regulus, please explain to Barty why James and his family are so scary to ask things for while I get out of this lab coat and try to get to you guys without stepping on one of my babies. I’m sure you’d know all about that.”
“Plant babies? I’ve never had one,” Regulus replies.
Pandora ignores him, and Regulus hears a quick shuffling back where Pandora is.
“It’d be suspicious if someone from a Starry Night partner asked for a sample of good soil, Barty. Also, she’d feel bad about it. Mr and Mrs. Potter are very nice. It’d be mean to steal their soil to try and help us .”
“Oh, James got married? How do you feel about that?” Evan adds in, and Regulus has to resist the urge to strangle both Rosier twins. He really does need to be more specific with names, instead of just leaving it up to Mr. if he means James or Fleamont. He thought adding in a Mrs. for Effie would make it apparent, but not to his demonic friends.
“Obviously he did not, and if he did, I’d feel bad for his wife,” Regulus scoffs, giving Evan a look that clearly said to shut up.
“Just clarifying for Barty, that’s all,” he says innocently.
“Well, Barty, Effie and Fleamont are very nice. So is James, honestly, which Regulus would know if he actually took the time to interact with him, which he doesn’t. James is more protective of the farm though, and if I was Pandora, I’d be scared of Effie thinking I was out to get her, too,” Dorcas interrupts.
“Before you said anything, Dorcas, you might have lived! But now I’ll just have to kill all four of you,” Regulus deadpans, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. Nobody even flinches - they’re used to his threats and dramatics, except Xenophilius, who is still taking samples and has gone completely still.
Pandora suddenly appears behind him, flicking him in the head before sitting down on a stool she somehow found in the mess of green. She’s dressed in her normal, everyday clothes now; a muted but colourful sweater, and corduroy trousers in a dark purple shade. Her earrings, deep red dangling radishes, go surprisingly well with the outfit.
“So the deal with Potterly Trees has gone well?”
“Exceedingly, thanks to the hubris of James.” Dorcas fills Pandora in about his boasting, and his little speech about the community.
“Aw. That actually sounds sort of heartwarming. And a bit heartbreaking, if you’re so sure they’ll lose,” Pandora mumbles. “I was expecting to laugh, and I will at him, but I’m going to miss the friendly competition between us. And hearing Regulus complain about him all the time, of course.”
“Don’t feel sympathy for them!”
“How can’t you? They’re going to lose their business on Christmas. How sad,” Pandora comments. Regulus hadn’t thought about that yet; the cruelest gift of all, that’s what it would be.
“Boohoo. That’s how businesses work.”
Pandora just chuckles at him, far used to his “colder than winter” heart, in his own words. She doesn’t bring up much else.
“Is that all?” She eventually asks, after a few minutes of light conversation.
“Yeah. We just didn’t want to work,” Evan says. Barty nods in agreement, and Dorcas seconds it.
“Well that’s both lovely and sad. About Potterly Trees - not your work ethic, which is just sad. Drinks later?”
“Have you ever known me to refuse a drink?” Barty asks, and to her credit, Pandora really does try to think about it. She has not.
“And bring the new guy - I want to meet him,” Evan adds. With that, they take their leave. You’d think with the amount they’re paid they’d try a bit harder to be good at their jobs, but no such luck for Regulus.
With a wave goodbye, Regulus and Dorcas follow suit and Pandora goes back to work.
“That was a good distraction, was it not?” Regulus asks, once the gang is all piled back into the car.
“Sure was,” Dorcas agrees. “Pandora did make me sad about the whole thing though. I feel a bit bad I’m so good at my job now.”
“I’m glad you’re good at it. It gets me a good salary with all of your business deals.”
They all laugh, but Regulus can’t deny the truth to her words, no matter how much he wants to. It will be sad if Potterly Trees closes, and the community will be affected for sure. But then again, that’s where Regulus and Starry Night come in to “save” them.
It’s for the better, right?
But there it is again, that funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, protesting to this, telling him to stop what he’s doing immediately and apologise. Regulus knows he won’t- he’s far too stubborn, and doesn’t like the idea of it at all. It’s still there nonetheless, and Regulus wonders if he can just hold out until Christmas for it to leave for good.
______________________
Monday, November 3rd, at approx. 5:20pm
“Would it be unprofessional of me to ask you to say goodbye to this business now?” Remus asks, a bit angrily, at James. “What were you thinking?”
“Well-” James starts, then reconsiders his original answer that he wasn’t. “I was thinking about the general idea. Hope and stuff. Isn’t that what Christmas is for? Community, hope, family, all that good stuff?”
“Yeah, ok, yeah, but the magic of Christmas isn’t going to save Potterly Trees. It will barely help. You know what enforces the spirit of Christmas? Capitalism. That’s what Christmas is about to corporations, which you guys are, so you guys should be more focused on making money than making stupid deals!”
“Remus, my parents just had a meeting in America. I’m sure they’re well educated about capitalism. We just need the community, like I’ve been saying!”
“No - you guys need £350,000. And you’re a failing business, who is probably going to fail more with the retaliation that’s sure to come from Starry Night. You thought you lost customers last year? Imagine your profit when they’re really trying to target the consumers of Godric’s Hollow.”
“Then we’ll just have to do that first, right? Show the people that they’re just trying to make a profit and don’t actually care about Christmas?”
“And how will that make you seem? Superior because you believe in Father Christmas? It will make you seem petty, which they expect from Starry Night but not the quaint family business,” Remus huffs, running his hands through his hair.
James is…not very confident in his actions, now that he’s actually thinking about them. When he got home, there was a lengthy discussion about all possible possibilities. About closing the business, about possible strategies, and reassuring James whatever happened they would handle. James could sense it was his fault- which it was, but that Effie and Fleamont would never actually say. It was on them, too, for agreeing, so they would all carry the consequences of the actions.
“Remus, man, try to calm down. You don’t know Godric’s Hollow like we do. There’s still hope, and we have lots of trees in stock. More than we did the year before the death eaters.”
“How many?” Remus asks, face stone cold.
“What?”
“How many trees, approximately, do you have?”
“That are going to be sold this year? 3,600, which is a fair amount, I’ll have you know-”
“Right. And how much, approximately, do you sell each tree for?”
“Well each type is a different price-”
“On average, James, how much is each tree?”
“£70,” James answers quietly.
“Right. And how much would you make from trees in total?”
“We also rent saws out-”
“James.”
“It’d come out to about…£250,000, give or take.”
“Remus, come on, the community-” Sirius tries, but Remus throws his hands up in exasperation.
“The community can’t donate £100,000, Sirius! Not in 2 months - less, even. We’re so fucked.”
“You don’t know Godric’s Hollow like we do. It can, if we put in the work for it. If we can convince them too-”
“Do any of you have a marketing degree? Or know how to do this?” Remus pushes, rendering both James and Sirius silent. Sirius got a degree in Forestry. James had gotten a degree in business, planning to take over Potterly Trees, and Effie and Fleamont had required him to have more than just an idea about running one.
“No, but, the community - don’t interrupt me - knows us! We’re charming, and great, and we know how to interact with people. We don’t need to know how to take out an ad in the paper or run a whole campaign or something. This is a small town,” Sirius insists. “People love to talk, and we just have to be sure they’ll talk about us .”
“I’ll give you that - you are charming. I don’t not believe you two will be able to influence the community somewhat. But enough to raise £100,000? It’s unrealistic.”
James ignores Remus’ flirting with Sirius but promises himself to ask Sirius about it later, shooting back with another comment about Christmas. “It’s Christmas! Who cares about realism?”
“James,” Remus says softly. “Christmas spirit doesn’t have a chance against Starry Night. This business will fail without a…fine, a Christmas miracle. But those aren’t common. And they’re probably not going to be found in Godric’s Hollow, of all places.”
James simply shakes his head. “I’m an optimist, Remus. It will be found, right here. We’ll be ok. I’m sure of it.”
It’s a lie- James is freaking out a bit inside about potentially losing his family business and having no direction in life besides it. Of course, there’s always the option of staying and working for Starry Night, but it isn’t really an option. Not for James, who’d rather be executed for treason anyday than bow to an unjust king.
“We can host events, join markets, do everything we can!”
“Could we, hear me out, make the average tree cost £75 instead?”
“I don’t know, Remus,” James answers. “Even if it would make us more, it might not help with the community aspect. I’m sure Starry Night can afford to go lower than us.”
“The saws, then?”
“Definitely not! That’s part of the fun, getting to cut your own tree. People will riot with an option too expensive for that. That’s one thing we have that Starry Night doesn’t, at least. They just sell pre-cut trees,” James says, as if Starry Night isn’t a real christmas tree farm because of it. In his mind, because they clearly don’t care about Christmas, they’re already not.
“Use that to your advantage. Advertise it as much as you can, that you care about the quality and health of the trees or whatever. Maybe they’re free range and grass fed, for all I care. But use it.”
“C’mon James, you’re just gonna do me and Marlene like that?”
“Huh?” Remus asks, looking at Sirius. “You actually work here? I was under the impression you were just a family friend.”
“Oh - yeah, I guess it would seem like that,” Sirius thinks back to the earlier conversation about the business. It did make him seem like an outsider, now that he thought about it. “Well, I am. I’m a lumberjack for it.”
“So you just cut trees?” Remus’ tone is curious, but James can see his eyes unfocus a bit when he asks the question. Oh, this is adorable.
“Just? I cut wood, too, for your information. It’s a very important job, actually,” Sirius responds, sniffing at the end self-importantly.
“My apologies. Is that what Marlene does too?”
“Yep. We both find some suitable trees to sell on their own, so people can be lazy. Or people find us, and we cut them for them. There’s a half acre out of the 3 we mostly use dedicated towards those trees. It gets very tiresome during December.”
“So do you use a saw or an axe?” Remus inquires further. “Just trying to get a good picture.”
I’ll bet he is, James thinks to himself.
“Usually a saw, unless I’m chopping wood.”
“Sometimes I help with that, too,” James adds, as a little experiment. It’s true, he does, but Remus’ eyes don’t change in the same way they did with the new information about Sirius. Hypothesis - Remus is into lumberjacks named Sirius - confirmed.
“And how much do you rent the saws out for?” Remus says, trying to focus back on business again, and his literal job.
“£10. Per saw.”
“How much do you make from those every year?”
“I’d say about £30,000. That’s…not too bad, with the £250,000, right? Because people use them for about 3000 trees or so.”
“Good point. So that’s £280,000, approximately. Then we only have to raise £70,000! I’m liking these odds more.”
“Do you think Lily and Mary will count for much?” Sirius brings up.
“Who are Lily and Mary?” Remus asks in response. James remembers that there’s still a fair amount they haven’t told him.
“Lily and Mary own this quaint little cafe on Main Street. The Leaky Cauldron. Most years, they come out and sell hot chocolate and baked goods and things like that, and we both get a profit from it.”
“And in previous years, what was this profit?” Remus asks, his eyes more hopeful than they should be for the amount James is about to tell him.
“£300, give or take. It isn’t much but it’s great for both of our businesses, so it’s still worth it,” James says, then shrugs. “It will still help.”
“Agreed. Anything will, really,” Remus says honestly. “If we’re short by even one pound, the deal will be over.”
“That’s reassuring,” James sighs.
“And remember, if Mary and Lily are involved, they can’t donate themselves. Their patrons can, but if they’re a part of this business, they can’t. Just like Sirius, or Fleamont, can’t.”
“Aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” Sirius chuckles, looking at Remus like he’s anything but the sun.
“Your compliments amuse me, Sirius,” Remus responds lightly, but it gets Sirius thinking.
“No, you’re not the sun, then,” he corrects himself. Remus looks confused for a second, then a bit offended.
“Not in a mean way! But the thing is, I could look at you all day. I couldn’t do that with the sun. It’d be way too boring,” Sirius explains, biting his lip absentmindedly as he thinks it through.
“Your eyes would burn out, too, for that matter,” Remus coughs out, but James doesn’t think he’s over the part where Sirius said he could look at him all day. Who would be?
Sirius shrugs. “I think you’re the moon. You’re taller than me, for one, you’re so incredibly beautiful thousands of poems should be written about you, for two, and I’d be ok staying up all night just to see you.”
“Oh,” Remus says quietly. “Well - thank you. You too.”
“No problem, moon,” Sirius grins. “Wait- no. Moon y . That sounds better.”
Sirius then makes odd shapes with his mouth, trying out the nickname. It’s a bit odd to watch, from an outside perspective.
“Moony,” James agrees.
Remus moves on, getting back to business yet again. “How about you two give Mary and Lily a call, and see what they say about all of this? I imagine it’s pretty important, and they might still be able to help.”
“Will do. And we need to meet up with them, and Marlene, sometime to discuss things really.”
“Another meeting?”
“I was thinking more like we go out for drinks sometime, or something like that.”
“You’re asking me out for drinks?” Remus says suggestively. Sirius turns a bright red.
“No! Well, not yet, but I meant as a group, I mean I could, really-” Sirius tries to explain. It’s a wonder to see someone usually so good with their words reduced to stutters and broken sentences at the hands of one beautiful man, James reflects.
“I was joking, don’t worry,” Remus hurriedly explains, saving Sirius further embarrassment. Sirius sighs a sound of relief. “And I’d be…ok with that. Both group and single. I don’t think it’d be considered unprofessional as long as I don’t drink, which should be easy for me.”
“Really? You would?”
“My dad was a heavy drinker,” Remus says quickly, looking away from the both of them. “I touched a few drops in high school, I’ll admit, but I don’t think I’ll ever do more than that.”
“Fair enough,” Sirius acknowledges. “You sure you want to go to a bar, then? Not a restaurant?”
“I’m good, I swear. You guys can have a great time, drinking just isn’t for me. Being around drunk people is enough to make me join in,” Remus laughs. “I’m a great designated driver.”
“In that case, thank you for your sacrifice, Mr. Lupin. I’ll text you the details later, then?”
Remus nods, and leaves James’ house, where the discussion mainly took place. It wasn’t entirely odd, actually, seeing how James’ family just did such a good job of making people feel at home.
________________________
“So do we just call them up?” Sirius asks, once Remus has left, Sirius’ eyes following him out the door.
“I guess so,” James says, then initiates a call. Mary picks up on the second ring- running a business gets you used to picking up quickly.
“Are we not going to discuss what to say first?!” Sirius hisses, but James has already started the conversation with Mary, ignoring her normal customer specific introduction.
“Mary! Long time no talk,” James says, and hopes his smile shines through the phone.
“We got lunch a few weeks ago,” Mary reminds him. “But I agree. Far too long. What’s the occasion for this call?”
“We’re selling Potterly Trees,” James says bluntly. James hears Mary’s breathing cut off suddenly from the other end.
“What? Why?” This time, it’s Lily talking.
“That was a terrible way to start this conversation,” Sirius mutters under his breath at James.
“Agreed. Explain a bit, please?” Lily asks. “Before my fiance stops breathing permanently?”
“Aw, I didn’t know Mary cared about us that much,” James teases, then stops. “Wait - fiance?”
“James,” Lily says.
“Don’t worry, it’s not actually getting sold yet. Not officially. And at least not until December 25th. Now, explain your thing!” James says excitedly. “Sirius is here, too, by the way.”
“Of course he is,” Lily sighs. “How about we organise some time to actually announce it? We weren’t planning on telling anyone yet, but it kind of just slipped out.”
“That’s more perfect than you can imagine. We have some fairly big news to share with you too, and Marlene. We also have a lawyer potentially coming, just as a heads up.”
Plans were quickly arranged to meet at the local Hog’s Head the day after next, where a lot of fun time with friends was organised. So was a lot of crime, which James generally tried to steer clear of, but it didn’t hurt to make it more fun. But on a normal Wednesday night? Things would be fine for dinner and such.
“I’ll tell Marlene and Remus,” James says, as he finalises the plans. Meet Wednesday night, around 5:00pm, for dinner and drinks. Sure, James might be a bit in debt, but one dinner with his friends is worth a call from his credit card company.
“Is that the lawyer?” Lily questions.
“Yep. And between you and me,” James looks around for Sirius, who left halfway through the conversation when things got too boring. “Him and Sirius totally fancy each other.”
“You’re making it sound like we’re in school again,” Lily laughs. James shrugs. Schoolhood love is so precious, in his opinion, even if he never got to fully experience it for himself. “But I’ll keep my eye out.”
With that, they hang up, and James goes to find Sirius to confirm his suspicions.
“Sirius?” He calls.
Sirius answers, coming down the stairs in an unorganised fashion. “Remus agreed!”
James already finds himself laughing, which Sirius can’t seem to understand, until James finally stops and asks him the question he’s been dying to know; “So, what’s the deal with you and Remus?”
As predicted, Sirius goes a bit red.
“Oh come on. I’m your best friend. You can tell me if you have the hots for him, which you clearly do.”
“Fine,” Sirius gives in quickly, rolling his eyes in a girlish manner. “I may fancy him the slightest bit.”
“Thank goodness,” James sighs, “I wouldn’t want our lawyer to be heartbroken.”
“What do you mean?” Sirius asks.
“I mean that you two have been making heart eyes at each other basically all day. It’s pretty obvious you’re both into each other and should probably shag,” James says, opening his hands and lifting both shoulders exaggeratedly in a dramatic gesture, saying that it’s pretty obvious this is just what everyone is thinking.
“You think?” Sirius asks excitedly. James nods, just as enthusiastic.
“100%, my man. You two have been flirting non stop, and it’s undeniable at this point. It’s also a bit gross to have to watch from a distance, but I’ll let it slide this one time.”
“What should I do?” Sirius asks, bringing his knees onto the couch they’re sitting on in criss-cross applesauce position, leaning in towards James, begging for more detail. James simply shrugs.
“I think you should go for it, but that’s when I think about any kind of love. You know me,” James says. Anyone who knows James knows he’s all for romance.
“Yeah. I mean, how could he say no to this?” Sirius gestures to himself, smouldering theatrically.
“You make a fair point. I don’t think that he could.”
“My ego didn’t need that, but thank you James.”
“Of course. And truly, I think he does fancy you. I hope it works out.”
Sirius gives James a thankful look before heading back upstairs, most likely to James’ room, if he knows him at all. Sirius has his own flat that he bought for dirt cheap with some inheritance money he got a while ago and has been mostly living off of, but it’s small and “too far” (15 minutes away) from James’ house, so they usually have sleepovers on weekdays. It all works out, in the end.