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The Muggle Hero


Sirius, James and Peter were still up when Remus finally went up to the dormitory, still feeling miserable. He was so absorbed in his troubles with Lily and the kissing that he barely noticed when Sirius quickly kicked a book off his bed and into the dark corner where he couldn’t see it. “How was snogging with your girlfriend?” Sirius teased before he’d got a good look at Remus’s face. He stopped immediately, though, when Remus turned his eyes upon him.

“Horrid,” Remus answered. “Good night.” He turned to his bed.

“Horrid? C’mon, mate,” said James, “Surely she can’t be that awful at snogging?” Remus opened his trunk and withdrew his pyjamas without responding. “Wait. Is she?” James asked, eyes widening, “Is she really that awful?” He sounded almost excited at the prospect of Lily Evans being awful at something.

Remus sighed, “No. She is not the problem. It’s me. I am. I’m horrible!”

“Surely you can’t be that horrible,” Peter said, “You’re Remus. You’re good at everything you’ve ever tried to do.”

“Well, seems I’ve found my weakness, then,” Remus answered sharply. “I tried kissing her and I ended up cutting her lip. She laughed at me.”

Sirius pulled a face. “She laughed?”

Remus nodded, “She laughed. While we were kissing. Interrupted it with all these giggles. She said she was sorry, but I mean there’s only so much a man’s pride can take.”

Sirius cringed, “Oi, that is pretty horrid, mate. I’m sorry.” Remus groaned, putting his head in his hands in the agony of being apologized to. “But - but this was your first one, yeah?” Sirius ammended quickly. “Maybe it’s like anything else, maybe you need practice.”

“Practice?” Remus spat the word, “How the ruddy hell do you reckon I’m to practice kissing?”

“Dunno,” Sirius answered off handedly, “Kiss Peter.”

“Gross, no,” Peter argued, scrambling off to his own bed, as though he were afraid Remus was about to attack him.

The other three smirked at Peter’s reaction and Sirius said, “Just give it another go with Lily, once your bloody pride is healed. And her lip, by the sounds of it.”

“Oh Merlin.” Remus hid his face in his palms again. “I can’t believe I’ve given a girl a bloody lip trying to kiss them. It’s got to be the worst first kiss in the history of all time.” His voice was muffled by his pyjamas, which he was still holding.

James shrugged, laying down across his bed, “I’ve heard all first kisses are awful.”

Peter squeaked, “Well Sirius has snogged before. So what was your first kiss like then, Sirius?”

James sat up and looked over at Sirius, an amused expression on his face. “Yes, Snogging King, how was your first kiss?” he asked, his voice almost daring Sirius to answer.

Sirius paused, “Well I reckon there’s been so many, I’m having a bit of trouble recalling my very first one!” he answered, grinning.

“Right. Okay.” James nodded and flopped back down onto the bed, “As I expected.”

Remus laughed. “Well, good job you lot, you’ve at least made me feel an inkling better.”




“Charlus, wake up.”

Dora’s voice was urgent and broke through Charlus’s dreams as sharp as a knife. His eyes split open and, disoriented, he knew something was wrong. Even blurry without his glasses, the room looked wrong. His wife’s panic-stricken face was wrong. He struggled to sit up, the room flickering orange and gold. “What - what’s happening?” Flames, he realized. There was a fire. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table, shoving them onto his face.

“It’s the Parish’s house,” Dora’s voice was terror stricken.

Charlus leaped out of bed and hurried, grabbing his wand from the nightstand, “Bloody hell,” he exclaimed, seeing the fire out the window, dangerously close to his own home. “Death Eaters?” he asked.

Dora shook her head, unknowing.

Charlus took his wand and rushed down the stairs in his pyjamas, all striped and blue, and out of the Potter’s front door. Dora was only a few steps behind him, carrying her wand as well. The night was cold, the stars out and starkly white against a deep blue sky. It was after two in the morning. Lights all around the cul-de-sac the Potters lived in were flicking on, people peering out through their windows. Charlus looked at Dora with fearful eyes. Technically, the Statute of Secrecy bound him not to perform magic before the watching muggles, but he couldn’t save the Parish house without his wand. He swallowed back his nerves and held it up. “Aquamenti maxima,” he commanded and hurried forward with his wand spraying water. He was nearly to the door when he heard Dora scream his name and looked up in time to see Mr. Parish at the upstairs window, holding up the youngest of the Parish children. He had but a moment to focus on them before Mr. Parish had tossed the child out, hoping that Charlus would catch her.

Charlus aimed his wand, “Arresto momentum,” he called and the child’s velocity slowed and stopped so that he was able to simply pluck her from the sky and gently put her down. The six year old ran from the house, down the walk to Dora, waiting at the edge of the lawn. Charlus looked back up at the window. The next Parish child was about to come out - the boy, the ten year old. He jumped out and Charlus performed the spell again, helping him down from the air to land safely upon his trainers with wide, confused eyes that took in Charlus’s wand with awe and questioning. Charlus sent him off to Dora’s side as well. He repeated this with the eldest boy, the one who played with James now and then, as well as Mrs. and Mr. Parish. The entire family, out of the house, and as Charlus was rushing away, the beams began to fall in and the flames fully engulfed the house. Sparks flew about, striking the protective shield that Charlus had created around the house, this time ironically keeping the danger in.

“You saved my family,” Mr. Parish said, grabbing hold of Charlus’s shoulders as the sound of sirens wailing in the distance filled the night. “You saved us all.” He looked at the wand in his neighbor’s fist, and his wide eyes, so filled with panic, met Charlus’s. “As if by magic,” he added.

Charlus took a deep breath, “I’m very sorry, Bill,” Charlus said.

“Whatever for?” Mr. Parish asked.

Before Charlus could say anything, a hand clapped onto his shoulder, as if in answer. He turned and found himself face-to-face with Alistor Moody, the one eyed auror from the Ministry of Magic. Dora was crying, Charlus could hear her. He faced Moody with a nod, “I know,” he said, “I broke the Statute. To save a life.”

“You know I still need to take you in, Potter,” Moody answered.

Charlus nodded.

“What’s going on?” Mr. Parish asked, “Are you a detective? This man has saved my family’s life.”

Moody nodded, “Bill, was it?” he asked, “You’ll be needing to come with us as well. Your entire family. Quickly.”

The alarms sounding were coming closer and closer and Moody motioned for another auror to get the kids and Dora as he grabbed hold of Charlus and Mr. Parish and the lot of them disapparated.

All over the cul-de-sac, people had come out onto their lawns to observe the fire and the daring rescue. They were talking eagerly to one another about the way Charlus had rushed forward and saved the children quite miraculously… though as the fire trucks arrived and unloaded their apparatus from the tanks, the aurors were moving about and casting the mendacium, so that none of the magic was remembered.




It had made the Daily Prophet next morning - Charlus Potter, Muggle Hero, Saves Neighborhood Family From Fire, Arrested. The moving photograph on the cover showed the muggle firemen rushing about, trying to douse the flames, marveling over the way the sparks seemed contained by some invisible shield.

“This your dad, Potter?” Alex Tinnamin asked, holding up the paper for James the next morning at breakfast in the Great Hall, when the owl post had delivered.

James took the page, shock and awe upon his face. The article was accompanied by two smaller images of his parents. The article went on to say that the two of them had been brought to the Ministry for Magic to be tried for breaking the Statute of Secrecy, but the writer expected they would get off just fine as Dora hadn’t been seen casting any spells and Charlus had only performed magic in front of muggles in order to save their lives.

After all, the article read, In times of extreme duress, exceptions are made. All of the onlookers memories were appropriately modified to include the daring rescue, without the magic involved. Charlus Potter was simply doing his duty as a good neighbor, ensuring the safety of those who do not posses the powers to save themselves. Potter, the creator of the Sleekeazy hair tonic, ought to be celebrated as a hero to muggles, rather than chastised by the Ministry.

“Brilliant, what he did,” Bilius Weasley said from down the table, “You ought to be proud of your dad for this, Potter.”

“Do you think he’ll get off then?” James asked, a bit scared of the answer, as he looked up and handed the paper back to Alex Tinnamin numbly.

“Sure he will. Everyone’s big on saving the muggles right now!” Bilius replied. “It’s like muggle-mania out there.”

Derek said, “Your folks will have to be extra careful now, though. Once you’re pegged for being a friend to muggles, you’re on Voldemort’s targeted list.” He looked bleakly at the paper as Alex handed it down the table as Frank Longbottom had asked to see it. Derek took a deep breath, handing it off. “Trust me. I know all too well what happens when you’re a known supporter of muggle welfare.”

James swallowed back his fear. “But it wasn’t Voldemort’s work that Dad was undoing,” he said, “Just an ordinary fire. The article said it was the heater that’s done it. Cold night and all, it was left running and caused the fire.”

“Doesn’t matter what caused the fire - Voldemort celebrates muggle deaths whether they are of his own doing or not,” Derek answered with a shrug. “And look. It’s obvious from that picture on the front that there were protective charms put on that house. See how the sparks are just bouncing off them, not setting any of the other houses on fire with it?”

James nodded, “My dad set charms about all the houses he could in the whole neighborhood.”

Derek nodded, “So did my folks.”

James felt sick.

“Your dad’s a hero, mate,” said Sirius, trying to cheer him up.

James nodded.

“They aren’t going to send him to Azkaban for saving a load of lives. Don’t worry.”

“But by the sounds of it,” James murmured, “He’s got a whole lot worse than Azkaban to worry about now.”