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chapter twelve; repercussions and danger
Sunday came around sooner than he realized. His parents also had work to do for the Order, Dad was working at the Wizengamot, eyes on the inside of the ministry, and Mum had been attending neverending events, all to get high-class ladies to drink enough to tell her what she needed to know about their afflictions with Voldemort.
Of course, that wasn't the extent of their missions, but the more dangerous ones they kept to themselves, not wanting James to worry—he did though.
He was starting to worry a lot. As of lately, the Order's missions had been going off rails. It seemed everyone was coming to the same conclusion—someone inside the Order was tipping the other side off.
To the point some of their agents were getting out of their missions by the nick of a hair, and Amaya had been dragged out of bed that week to heal the wounded hit by dark magic curses—one of the Prewett twins, whilst the two of them were out for a non-ministry approved mission, had taken quite the hit with a nasty curse that had slashed across his back and was quickly spreading; if Amaya wasn't bloody fantastic he'd be dead. James also heard of other agents getting splinched due to Anti-apparition charms.
So, naturally, he was worried. This was why he was thankful when Lily and Marlene had declared they would wait for them to come back to the flat, and if they didn't come back by the agreed-upon hour for the mission—Marlene had confirmed with Moody that they were allowed to do so—they'd go to the Black Cat with backup.
And he wasn't exactly thankful for his own safety, but rather his friends and that also meant Amaya wouldn't be alone that night, holed up in the library until her body made her pass out from exhaustion because the girls had invited her along.
"Do you reckon we're gonna need backup?" asked Peter as the four of them sat, for the third time that week, at the same dusty booth at the pub.
All of them discreetly kept their eyes on the forbidden table, that as of the moment sat Rookwood, the scruffy fella, and two others, one of which they recognized as someone in the Mulciber family by the way his jaw sat crooked on his face, and they were just as shady looking as them—and yes, perhaps the job had made James paranoid and too quick to judge the men at the forbidden table, but he'd rather that than be caught by surprise if something happened.
"I don't think it'll be an issue," said Sirius, sipping on his glass of Ogden's whiskey. "We're not engaging."
Remus snorted. "Never thought I'd see the day in which you were the calm one."
Shrugging, Sirius said, "Not calm. Just practical. It'd do us no good to attack anyone. But be sure, if someone in my family strolls through that door I won't be held accountable for my actions."
