The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part One

An Evolving Door

James got up the morning after his father's funeral and slid out of Lily's grasp. He quietly got dressed and, carrying his shoes so they wouldn't weight his steps, he snuck out the door of the Lupin house and across the front yard to the lane. When he'd stepped beyond the reach of the Fidelus, he pulled his trainers on, hopping a couple extra feet of clearance from the protective charm's reach, and then turned on the spot, disappearing.

He reappeared a moment later on the Embankment in London, still tugging on his trainers before he rushed down the wet pathway to the entrance of the Auror Training Center. The weather was damp and drizzly and he wished he'd brought along a jumper, especially once he stepped into the magically cooled interior of the Center. His trainers squeaked a bit as he trotted down the corridor until they'd dried off, and he ducked through the throng of other trainees that milled about, carefully avoiding Frank Longbottom, who he knew would make a big deal about All That Had Happened.

James arrived at the office of Mr. Underhill, took a deep breath and went inside.

Underhill sat at his desk, pouring over papers, his eyes cast down upon them, frowning in concentration. He did not look up as James came in, and he showed no sign of even realizing that he was there at all. James went over to the much smaller desk, crammed into a corner by tall filing cabinets, where a simple quill and ink bottle had been placed, and nothing more. He sat down, feeling rather like he used to do at detentions back at Hogwarts, staring at his hands clasped on the table.

After a moment, still without looking up, Underhill grunted, "Those case files aren't going to file themselves."

James looked around and saw a couple boxes stacked by the wall. He wondered why Underhill didn't simply use magic to file them, but he didn't ask. Instead, James just got up and went over and started working at putting the files away as best he could figure. The drawers were in a somewhat sporadic order, and he wasn't entirely sure he understood the system. It didn't seem to be either alphabetical not by date.

Underhill didn't speak again until James had finished with the filing and even then it was just to point out a basket full of outgoing notices for the Ministry. James took the basket and quickly set to work putting them into envelopes or else rolling them into scrolls and he placed them in a bin marked pick up, and was surprised when several owls showed up almost immediately at Underhill's window.

When the owls had gone, Underhill had a memo to be delivered to Moody downstairs, and then a new file for James to put away.

By then, it was nearly half noon and Underhill stood up, smoothed his robes, and started for the door. He paused there and turned back to look at James with a piercing stare.

"Your father died this week?"

"Yes sir. Yesterday was the funeral. That's why I couldn't make it in."

Underhill nodded slowly. His scowling face was lined with rough edges and he held the door. "Are you hungry?"

James was caught off guard. "Hungry?"

"For food. It's lunch."

"Oh. I - I s'pose."

"Then come on," Underhill barked, and he stepped out the office door.

James hesitated, then got up, still not fully understanding what was going on. Did Underhill think he didn't know the way to the kitchens?

Before he knew it, though, they'd turned away from the direction of the kitchens and embarked down a long corridor that echoed their footsteps back to them. There were all kinds of doors and booths along the corridor, which reminded James a bit of the muggle underground that Lily was so keen to ride in lieu of the Knight Bus whenever they went on dates on the other side of London. James looked curiously down the turns as they went past them, wondering where they led, until finally Mr. Underhill came to a stop by a particular booth and beckoned James inside.