Have You Ever Seen The Rain
Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm
I know, it's been comin' for some time
When it's over, so they say
It'll rain a sunny day
Late December 1971
Dear James,
I hope your Christmas break is still going well. We’re doing alright at the Lupin Cottage - my dad and I built some furniture the Muggle way (he does it for my mum) this morning, and it’s safe to say that I was not a carpenter in another life. I broke one of the screws in half! Still not sure how I did it.
I know I only wrote you yesterday, but I was wondering if you’d heard from the twins. I’ve been writing them all break, but I haven’t had a reply. I wasn’t sure if they were banned from writing me and Peter, given we’re half-bloods, so I figured I’d ask if they’d written you back.
I’m worried.
Regards,
Remus J. Lupin
——
Hello Remus!
I haven’t heard from them either. Mum said she’s getting Auntie Dorea to put out some feelers, but I think we may not know anything until January.
Have you asked Peter about it?
Sincerely,
James Fleamont Potter
p.s. what is your middle name? It’s been bothering me.
——
Dear Remus,
I haven’t heard from them either. But Ara said that they might be going to their French place, so maybe they’re over there and forgot to write before they left?
I don’t know. I worry about them. Ara was on edge the week before we left, and her hair kept sparking whenever people brought up Christmas. I tried to ask her about it, but she just said that her brother hadn’t been writing her.
You don’t think their mum did anything? That Howler was awful.
We should meet up at some point, maybe see if we can invite the twins? I don’t know, I don’t think they’d be allowed.
I’m worried,
Peter Pettigrew
——
Dear James,
Peter’s worried too. He brought up the Howler.
Pete thinks it would be easier if we all met up. I’m busy for the last few days of December, but I’m free on the 29th if you are? Pete can make it then too.
If you’re free then, we should figure out where to meet.
Regards,
Remus [redacted] Lupin
——
To my friend Peter,
You are hereby and cordially invited to the Potter Manor on the date of December 29th for a late breakfast and an evening dinner.
Basically, come round at like 10 and stay for dinner!
Bring any information you have on the twins. It’s time to sort this all out.
Sincerely,
James Fleamont Potter
p.s. if you can’t Floo, dad says he’s happy to come and Apparate you here.
——
To my friend Remus,
You are hereby and cordially invited to the Potter Manor on the date of December 29th for a late breakfast and an evening dinner.
Basically, come round at like 10 and stay for dinner!
Bring any information you have on the twins. It’s time to stop pretending.
Sincerely,
James Fleamont Potter
p.s. we’re connected to the Floo, and I know you have one for your dad’s job.
——
It was too steady of a morning. The sun had risen lazily, and the sky was cold but cloudless. To a normal person, it looked like a lovely winter day.
To the three friends sat on James’s bed, the world felt sticky with tension and guilt.
Peter had arrived first, having been collected by Fleamont Potter at nine-fifty. He donned a casual Muggle outfit; plain blue jumper, grey slacks - looking a little nervous when he arrived. It took James a bit of prodding before he found out that this was the first Wizarding home he had ever set foot in and that he hadn’t been sure if his Muggle clothing would cause issues with the Potters. After that, James offered him a house tour later, and promised him that his parents weren’t prejudiced and that his mother was bound to compliment Peter on his jumper the second she saw him. He had been right. She’d told him he looked very smart.
Remus arrived at ten on the dot. He stumbled through the Floo, sneezing away powder while the other boys held back snickers. The snickers passed soon, upon the sight of their friend. He seemed to have gotten sick again, skin pale and body tense. Without comment, James welcomed his friend and complimented his brown patterned jumper. It had moving snitches on it.
Once all the greetings were out the way, and James had managed to get his parents to leave them alone, he dragged the boys to his room, shutting the door and settling them all on his bed for what was sure to be the most serious conversation of his life.
“I saw their mum at the station in September.” James began, eyes watching the others carefully as he spoke. “She yanked Ara across the station when she waved at me. It looked like it hurt.” He winced, bringing his knees to his chest as he pondered.
“I know we promised not to mention it, but the Howler called her ‘it’.” All three boys winced at Peter’s words. But Peter looked the most uncomfortable with what he’d said. It felt like breaking their trust, discussing their awful mother without them there.
“Sirius said once that their little brother is the heir.” Remus spoke after a moment, looking thoughtfully off to the distance. James could see the cracks in his facade, the worry in his eyes and creases in his brow. “I heard Ara come in our dorm the first night, heard them worrying about their brother.”
James regarded his friend carefully. Truth be told, he’d spent a week in November half-certain that Remus was being abused too. He fell ill monthly, coming back to school looking like death warmed up. He’d spent a few days in November, as well, visiting his ill aunt at home and come back with little scars that they all pretended not to notice. They were very good at pretending. Ultimately, however, James had hung up his theory on Remus. It seemed that his father could be a little distant and cautious around him, but that his parents loved him too much to hurt him. After he’d clarified that in his mind, it allowed him to put all his effort into the twins (though he still kept a careful eye on Remus because he was certain the boy had a secret and he was determined to figure it out).
He’d spoken to his mother about the twins once he knew that no one was getting letters from them. Euphemia Potter’s eyes had filled with a sadness that even her best mask couldn’t hide. His mother was a bleeding heart, and he loved her very much. A chat with Dorea, several days of waiting, before they heard anything about the twins.
“Auntie Dorea’s been looking into it. Said that their mother had refused all visitors for the holiday. Apparently she said they were having a holiday in France, but there’s no sign of them leaving their house. She tried to arrange for tea with their mum but she rejected the offer ‘cause Dorea ‘married a blood-traitor’.” He growled the final sentence before frustratedly flinging himself backwards on the bed. Remus offered a sympathetic smile.
“So are they just stuck there then?” Peter asked hopelessly, nervously chewing his lip. “Trapped in that house with no letters?”
There was an awful moment of silence as the words hung over them. Their mates were stuck in a house which Ara had previously described as ‘gloomy’ and Sirius had referred to as ‘a hell-pit of dark decor’. They weren’t sending out letters, which meant they surely weren’t receiving them either.
“I should’ve just grabbed them and forced them back to mine the second they saw their father. Did you see how Ara looked? Like they’d been given salvation and damnation at the same time.”
“Big words.” Remus remarked with a sly smirk, trying to stop them all feeling so bloody miserable. James threw a pillow at him in response.
“I’m serious.” At his own words, James paused and let out a ridiculous laugh. And then he sighed, ran a hand through his hair nervously, and rubbed his eyes below his glasses. “No I’m not, he’s stuck in their awful house with their awful mother.”
“What have you heard about her? Dad might work for the Ministry, but he says he knows better than to try with that type of Pureblood.” Remus asked James, shuffling a little on the bed so Peter could stretch his legs.
“Auntie Dorea used to see her at Black family events. Apparently she’s the worst.” He replied, propping himself up on his elbows as he thought over the information. “She said that when the twins were born, Walburga immediately started vying for betrothal contracts for Ara.”
“That’s disgusting.” Peter blanched. And then paused, because he didn’t fully know what those were. “What’s a betrothal contract?”
“It’s like a written engagement, mate.” James explained, knowing this wasn’t even the worst bit of the twin’s luck. “Two pureblood families make an agreement that their children marrying will benefit the family, and so they sign a contract saying when it’ll happen. Most start looking when their child turns five.”
“That’s disgusting.” Peter repeating, staring at James with wide eyes that scanned his form - as though checking he were intact. “Have you got one?”
“Nah. My parents have always believed in me making my own choices. Besides, boys have more leeway. We can get married whenever and make an heir. But for girls, they tend to leave school to marry within the next year.” He shivered at the awfulness. Sirius had explained about his cousin Andy and her issues with betrothals, and it had awoken a new fear in James. He didn’t want Ara to have to do the same one day.
“And with their mother trying to immediately organise contracts, it suggests that there is an issue with the heirs.” Remus elaborated. And, upon James curious look he explained: “my dad tells me about some of the pureblood things. He might have married a muggle, but he wanted me to know the things he grew up with.”
“So their mum doing that was?” Peter left the final word unspoken. Mainly because he was struggling with all this new information.
“It’s tacky.” James explained. “Most Purebloods get betrothed, but to… the respectable thing to do is wait until we’re five. It’s the age that parents check their children for magic, to remove any squibs.” He scrunched his nose at the idea of people being left behind by their own family, just because they didn’t quite get magic. It was cruel. “Even then, most contracts don’t get sorted until we’re in Hogwarts.”
“What about Ara then?”
“Dorea said she remembered hearing about a contract being started but never finished. I don’t know exactly what happened, but apparently when they were five there was some kind of incident. Usually Pureblood kids are introduced then, but they didn’t introduce either of them. They waited until Regulus, their little brother, turned five.”
“Do you think that’s why she’s got the scars?” Remus pondered thoughtfully.
“No. I asked her more about it a little ago.” Peter shrugged. “Apparently her cousin that’s still at Hogwarts was being really rude and Ara had a bad accidental magic burst.”
“She made magic fire as accidental magic?” James gasped.
“I don’t know.” The boy shrugged. “Why?”
“That’s powerful.”
“I think…” Remus interjected, squeezing his eyes shut in thought. When he opened them again, both boys were looking at him. “Dad mentions gossip around the office every once in a while. I wrote in one of my letters home that I had befriended them and… he wrote back that he was shocked they were still alive.”
“What?” James gawped.
“Apparently, there was a rumour that their parents killed them - when they were like eight or something. French Aurors got signalled that there was a fire or something at their French estate. The files got sealed and they refused to speak to the British Aurors and they tried to go to their house but their mother refused to let them be seen. Wasn’t until they went to Hogwarts that the Aurors closed the case.”
“You think that was Ara? When she burned herself?”
“I think so… yeah.”
“How are we going to talk to them about it? They always avoid the topic.” Peter pondered aloud.
“I don’t know.” James sighed, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I might ask Auntie Dorea about it again, see if she’s come up with anything.”
An uneasy silence lingered, a foreboding dread thickening the air.
One thing was clear to them from the conversation. A hideous fact that they could not erase; their friends were being abused, and they quite weren’t sure how to stop it.
7th January 1972
“And you’ve definitely received confirmation from the boys parents?”
Dorea Potter (formerly Black, though she’d hope you wouldn’t hold it against her) arched a brow as she eyed down her squirming nephew, as though by just looking at him she would know whether he told a lie. She’d promised to teach the look to James, and he was picking it up rather nicely - though his eyebrows could still use a lot of work.
“Yes.” The boy nodded quickly, body stiff and stood to attention. It wasn’t that he was afraid of his aunt, more that he respected her power.
And, obviously, that he was a little afraid of her.
After all, in the span of a single winter holiday, she had compiled more records than the Aurors had in three years! She’d spoken to her cousin Alphard - who’d broken down entirely when confessing his knowing and concealment of the twins abuse. He’d explained that the twins had divulged their mother’s cruelty to him once, when he’d spotted a perfectly rectangular healed patch of skin on Ara’s arm. She’d made him swear not to tell anyone, and then described in painful detail that Walburga had hit her with a skin-stripping spell simply because she had borrowed one of her brother’s school books.
It had been clear that this was not the first instance.
Dorea had then spoken to (and later obliviated) the French Aurors who had looked into the family. The files were filled with holes and missing pages. A small trip into the memories of a weaker Auror with awful mental shields, had found that Walburga and Cygnus Black had paid off the Auror team to bungle the evidence. However, that did not erase the evidence in their minds, or the evidence they spoke when laced with Veritiserum wine.
The Auror investigation that Remus had informed James of was not only to check on the twins wellbeing. At the time, France had a screen over the country to prevent Unforgivable curses. There had been rumblings in the forests, whispers of Death Eaters relocating. For the Black family, in August of 1968, this screen detected two spells.
The Cruciatus curse.
Followed swiftly by the killing curse.
They’d rushed to the location to find the family seeming perfectly normal, save for the missing twins and a dead bird on the dining table.
A couple of the Aurors had tried to force their way through to inspect the house, tried to screen the wands. But when you’re offered a personal recommendation for any career path and a hefty sum of galleons… sometimes you give up on the children.
Dorea had placed a few unusual curses from the family grimoires and erased the Aurors memories of the interaction - storing evidence away for a later time. She had even visited the French Manor; though, she couldn’t get past the final wards. James, naturally, did not know the gritty details of the entire affair; having only been told that the Aurors had been bought off and that the family were using Dark magic.
“We shall have to be up early and sharp tomorrow morning.” She informed the boy, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watched him nod. “Perhaps you can find your uncle for me? I fear he and Monty may be talking themselves in circles again.”
They exchanged a knowing look before James departed - the Potter brothers were notoriously good at debating a topic for hours on end, only to realise they had the same opinion once a wife had intervened. Every once in a while, James would try to join in; he was better suited to watching, Dorea thought privately.
Charlus had indeed been a great help in her investigation. It was his connections to the Auror department that he’d worked within for a decade that had gotten her access to his French colleagues. He was also very good at sweet talking goblins; especially those working for Gringotts, who simply adored the Potter gold. A couple of well-placed questions had informed him that Orion Black had not yet withdrawn his heir ring (something young James was soon to receive that summer), and that they’d been involved in five negotiations for betrothals to the young Ara Black, but that there was currently nothing set in stone.
A fact which received both husband and wife to great extent. Their own marriage had been difficult to negotiate - what with her already being betrothed to a Malfoy. Her family had been desperate to secure that connection for years, so when she was caught in a Hogwarts broom closet with Charlus between her legs… well, her family all but disowned her. Abraxas was delighted, however, finally able to playboy around until he’d knocked up a pretty French witch and married her rather quickly to secure his heir.
The only party unhappy with the whole exchange was the Blacks.
After all, she had married Charlus the second they left Hogwarts and began living in the Potter Manor. A few years later, when Monty had married darling Effie, he blessed the Lordship onto him. Well, he more handed the ring over and took Dorea on a wonderful trip of Europe.
By the time they returned, James’s arrival was imminent.
And life in the Potter Manor was perfect. Well, as perfect as a Pureblood home with two wives that weren’t totally trusting of each other, and a little tyke running around exploding things. The Potter family did not hold fronts, did not deliberately harm each other.
So when Dorea found out that the newer generation of Blacks were either being married off to Death Eaters, or eloping with Muggleborns… she had been a little nervous for the youngest of the lot. Her nephew meeting and befriending them had been a wonderful surprise, and a perfect opportunity to conduct research.
She had gone to fetch him with his parents - using the excuse to watch out for members of her former family.
Orion Black had Apparated to the station as the train arrived. He stood beyond the Slytherin crowds, face impassive. In fact, there had only been one moment that his mask of indifference slipped; the moment his children saw him and spun away. There was a flicker akin to regret, quickly smoothed over as his children moved to join him - fear glimmering in their eyes as they took his arm.
James, upon greeting his parents, had asked her why she was there.
“Reconnaissance.” She had replied, before offering her arm and Apparating her nephew home.
Now, after a month of devoted research, she felt somewhat prepared to approach the Black family. The only question was: would they even give her time of day?