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❨ chapter two. ❩
❛ new friendships and old ❜

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London
5:30 am

JULIETTE LET THE balcony door shut behind her as she walked over to a newly unwrapped swing chair that had been a gift from her Aunt Athena. I've heard these are all the rage amongst Muggle youth these days! Juliette's father hadn't seemed too impressed, but Juliette had never loved her aunt more. Even in the disappearing twilight, Juliette could see the chair's white wood, the pale pink and gray cushions, and the steel stand holding it up. With a smile, she settled into the chair, holding a steaming mug of tea in one hand and clutching a box of chocolate digestives in the other.

She warmed her hands around the mug and took a small sip, careful to not let it scald her tongue. Apart from the gentle patter of rain tapping against concrete, a soft silence imposed itself upon her from all sides. She knew London would soon wake to the sight of dark skies and steady rain, but for now, the world was at peace.

As if on cue, a shrill sound pierced the air. Juliette set her mug down. The noise echoed in the quiet night again, closer this time, and she realized what it was.

A hoot.

Juliette glanced up in time to see a large bird fly out from low, dense clouds and hurl itself towards her. A minute later, a tawny owl landed at the metal rail of the balcony, a hefty looking package tied to one of its legs.

"Phorcys," Juliette whispered, reaching for her owl, "you're back! What have you got here?"

The owl hooted loudly, ruffling its ash colored feathers as it dropped to the floor. Light from nearby lamp posts illuminated the parcel it had been carrying - a box wrapped in purple paper, a silvery wax seal pressed into its side. Jedwin's, she thought to herself as she picked up the owl. She'd used an owl order to refill her tea stock; the parcel had arrived earlier than she'd expected.

"Hey," mumbled Juliette, fighting to hold the owl, which seemed oddly restless and kept flapping its wings in her lap. "Stay still, Phorcys, stay still..."

"I've never seen anyone keep an owl for a pet," a voice spoke from nearby.

Juliette jumped, knocking over her mug and sending the owl fluttering to the floor. Phorcys hooted angrily, his bright yellow eyes aghast. Juliette shot him an apologetic glance and turned to see a woman leaning over the balcony next to hers, barely three feet away.

"Sorry," said the woman quietly, her voice mellow, "didn't mean to scare you like that."

"It's alright," breathed Juliette, taking in deep breaths to calm her racing heart, "I just wasn't expecting anyone to be up this early."

The first thing Juliette noticed about the woman were her dark, narrow eyes and high, elegant cheekbones. Upon closer look, she saw the woman had enviously smooth skin, and long, brown hair, and a small beauty spot that was gracefully positioned on the left half of her face, right above her thin upper lip. Though she was dressed in her pinstripe pyjamas, she still managed to look sophisticated as she leaned against the banister.

"Penelope Bones," she introduced herself with a grin, "I moved in two months ago."

Shaking herself from her stupor, Juliette waved. "I'm Juliette," she replied, "I moved in just yesterday."

"I know, I heard the shuffling," Penelope laughed. "So, your name's Juliette?"

Juliette nodded, confused.

"After the character?"

Juliette froze. She had no idea what Penelope was talking about; it was something from the Muggle world, certainly, but her knowledge about muggle things only went so far. It was instances such as these which had kept her awake through several nights in the past few months.

Penelope was watching Juliette with a raised brow, waiting for a reply.

"I suppose," said Juliette slowly, offering a small shrug, "I never asked my parents really."

Penelope hummed, her beady eyes fixed upon Juliette. If Penelope found Juliette's answer odd, she didn't say. Instead -

"You have a very pretty name," she offered kindly, her lips turning upwards. Juliette thought she looked even prettier when she smiled. And sad, her mind added after a beat. Even though she was smiling, Penelope Bones had a forlorn look about her.

"Not a name one can easily forget," Penelope remarked. Juliette said nothing, afraid she'd say something to make the other woman suspicious. Then Penelope, still watching Juliette curiously, added, "Juliet Capulet is, after all, one of Shakespeare's most famous characters."

Juliet Capulet? Juliette had never heard the name before. She made a note to learn more about this Juliet Capulet. And Shakespeare.

"I still remember when I first read the story of Romeo and Juliet," Penelope continued, seemingly oblivious to Juliette's unfamiliarity with the topic, "it was actually not very long ago. I've never been very intrigued by his plays, you see. I do love reading but... It's surprising, really, when you consider that Shakespeare is arguably the most famous literary figure in the world of English." She gave a hollow laugh. "I almost feel terrible telling you this. You must think I'm so ignorant."

"Oh, I haven't ever read his works either," Juliette quickly admitted, hardly believing her luck. She hadn't known, never expected, her name to hold any significance in the muggle world. But of all the muggles she could have come across, she'd met Penelope who appeared to not have read much of this Shakespeare either. Who would hopefully mistake Juliette's confusion with ignorance. "But perhaps I will read his works soon."

"If you do, then you must tell me," said Penelope eagerly, "I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. I've read enough to have an interesting conversation."

"I certainly will, when I read it."

The sun was now creeping over the horizon, spreading golden beams across the sky. Somewhere, a motor had started whirring loudly.

"I better go, work starts in a few hours," sighed Penelope. She gathered a mug from somewhere behind the balcony wall and blanket from her chair. "Nice to meet you, by the way."

"Likewise," said Juliette, "have a good day, Penelope."

"Call me Penny. Everyone else does. Oh, and before I forget: don't be afraid to call on me if you need anything! I'm just a knock away."

"That's very kind of you," Juliette smiled, wringing her hands in her lap. Perhaps not all muggles are unkind. Hope flickered meekly in her heart even as it thudded loudly against her chest. "Thank you, Pene - Penny."

Penelope waved cheerfully. "Good bye, fair Juliette."

No sooner was she gone that Phorcys decided to snap at Juliette's ankle.

"Ouch! You silly bird," Juliette muttered, picking up the owl and stroking its wings, "Sorry about earlier." The owl blinked, still angry. "I said sorry! Now, let's get this parcel off of you, shall we? Then I can get you some water and treats..."

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Hogwarts.
7:30 am

"WELL?"

Sirius squinted as he opened his eyes to the sight of James Potter hovering above him. With a groan, Sirius shut his eyes against the offensive sunlight that now flooded the dormitory. "What, James?"

"How did it go?"

Disastrous. "Brilliant."

"Really?" James sounded surprised.

Sirius groaned. "What do you think?"

"Oh."

"Hmm."

James' bed creaked as he sat down. Fingers tapping against the bedpost, he asked, "What did McGonagall say? Surely she can talk to someone at the Auror office?"

Sirius sighed. "Nah, she can't."

"Yes, she can! She was an auror, you know."

"I know," Sirius leaned up on his elbows, seeing James eyeing him nervously. "But Minnie's forgotten all about that, it seems."

The door to the dormitory creaked as it swung open.

James crossed his arms. "I'll go talk to her."

"Please don't," retorted Sirius, falling back into his pillows.

"Talk to who about what?" a new voice asked.

The door shut with a dull thud behind Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, both of whom, Sirius noticed with a grimace, were carrying armfuls of parchment, newspapers, and tomes that had to be terribly ancient if their binding was anything to go by. He was about to ask them what they'd been up to when he remembered Remus and Peter had gotten up early that day to finish some essays.

"What're you two talking about?" Remus asked again as he set down the books in his arm.

"How Sirius went to see McGonagall last night, and how she said no to helping him," James explained.

"What did McGonagall say?" Remus asked at the same time as Peter said, "You came in awfully late last night, I didn't even hear you returning."

Sirius shrugged. "Forget what McGonagall said. It is what it is," he said in a falsely chirpy tone, "and Pete, the way you sleep, you wouldn't hear a word even if the Weird Sisters held a concert right here, in our dormitory."

Peter turned red and mumbled something about being a deep sleeper.

"I'm sure you'll find some other career that interests you," said Remus quietly, "We still have a few weeks."

Sirius could only hum in response. He hadn't thought of what else he'd have liked to do in life; being an auror was the only thing he'd ever considered.

The dormitory lapsed into silence as the boys readied themselves for another day of classes. Parchments were shuffled; books stuffed into satchels; ties flung across the room, with disgruntled sounds following after them.

Eventually, it was James who began talking again, saying, "Write to the Auror Office again." His voice was as solemn as they'd ever heard it. "And if you still don't get in, Padfoot, I won't join training either."

"Don't be stupid," Sirius huffed, "at the very least, one of us should be an auror. Man on the inside, you know? Reckon we'd need someone to save the rest of us when we get in trouble."

Remus laughed. "And James is going to be that man, huh?"

"The future truly is bleak, my friend," Peter quipped, grinning widely as he pulled on his cardigan.

"Evans has more faith in my skills than the lot of you put together," James scowled.

"She said that?" asked Peter in a tone of mock surprise.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"Are you sure she was talking about your auror skills," Remus continued, smiling at the sound of his other friends sniggering, "because it seems to me she-"

James flushed. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Lupin."

"Or what?" Sirius barked a laugh. "Going to hex him with you excellent wandwork?"

"Don't even-" started James, eyes wide in warning, but the other boys were quicker.

"I bet Evans knows all about his wandwork," said Peter quickly. His comment was met with loud guffaws from both Sirius and Remus.

"Nice one, Wormy," said Sirius, getting to his feet.

"Sod off, idiots" James mumbled, walking over to his trunk and searching for a fresh pair of socks. He kept muttering under his breath, something about nonsense, and immature gits, and utter prats. The rest of the boys only laughed harder at James' scowling expression, watching amusedly as his face turned a deeper shade of scarlet.

"You really let him have that one," Remus told Sirius, gesturing towards Peter who had sobered up enough to tie his shoelaces.

"It was too good a chance to pass up on," Sirius shrugged as he pulled on his robes. He glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Oi, James, you ready?"

"Bugger off," came the reply.

"We should all be buggering off," Remus yawned, "it's nearly time for breakfast, and we've Transfiguration right after."

"Not looking forward to it," groaned Peter as he got to his feet, "McGonagall looks at me like she's going to murder me."

"At least you've finished your essay," noted James airily as he checked his reflection in the mirror between his and Remus' beds.

"What, and you haven't?"

"I'll write it over breakfast."

"Living on the edge, I see."

James' face broke into a grin as he ran a comb through his hair. "Life's too short to worry about homework, Pete."

"Famous last words, I'm sure," the mirror drawled, adding with a scoff, "Turn your collar down, you wanker."

"Charming as ever," retorted James. The other boys gathered their bags and stuffed their wands into the pockets of their robes, grinning as the mirror continued hurling snide comments at James who, as he did everyday, promptly replied to each and every single comment with increasing sarcasm.

"Whenever you're done chitchatting, my deer," said Remus, holding the door to the dormitory wide open. His comment was met with an eye roll from James.

Without another word, the four boys scrambled out the door and made their way down to the common room, from which came the sounds of morning chatter and laughter. Remus and Peter had descended the last flight of stairs and vanished from view when Sirius found his path being obstructed by James whose arm was flung out before him.

Sirius glanced sideways to see the frown lining his best friend's face. "What?"

"Are you..." James hesitated, his brown eyes full of concern. He clasped Sirius' shoulder and asked, "are you really sure you're alright, mate?"

"Absolutely," said Sirius quickly, shrugging off James' arm to straighten his robes, "it's only a job, isn't it? Don't worry about it. Come on now, I'm starving!"

He'd moved down the remaining stairs before James had had the chance to say anything more.

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Ministry of Magic.
Auror Headquarters
10:40 pm

WITH A GRUNT, Alastor Moody dropped into his chair, pulling a large stack of files from underneath the desk. His cubicle was cramped with piles of these slim folders, all applications to the department. From the few that he had already read that evening, it was clear the Auror office once more than enough eligible candidates to fill all their empty seats and more. And yet most of them will be rejected, Moody thought bitterly as he flicked through the files. He knew MacDonald's stance on the matter; he did not pretend to understand it.

The Head Auror, Angus MacDonald, had refused the idea of admitting more trainees than usual. He had long maintained that it was a matter of quality, not quantity, that would help them win the war. The decision was met with disgruntled whispers and snide looks, but there was nothing any of them could do. Hence, Quince, Vincent and Shafiq, Saad — both 18 of age, with near perfect scores in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, but passable marks in Transfiguration — were deemed Rejected with a stamp of the red ink the department used,  and tossed into the overflowing box lying by Moody's feet.

He was halfway through another pile of applications when, with a barely audible sound, a piece of paper flew into his cubicle. It was a purple airplane — the memos used by the Auror Office. He quickly unravelled the lightly smoking paper to find a small message in bright orange ink: My office. Meeting. Now.

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"Ah, Moody!" Angus MacDonald exclaimed as Moody strided into his office. "Sit down, lad, sit down. Take a seat." He pointed to a seat at the table where several others were already seated.

Amongst the assembled crowd were some faces he recognized, such as fellow aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Rufus Scrimgeour; Ismene McKinnon, another auror, and her younger sister, Donna, who worked in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Boundaries; and MacDonald's son, the trainee, Tobias. Then there were others too, people whom Moody did not know by name but whose faces he had seen around the Auror Office and the Ministry. It was an odd mix of Ministry workers, veteran aurors and trainees alike.

Moody frowned.

"I think we're all here now," said Angus loudly, clasping his hands before him as Moody sat down. Turning to the others, he said, "I'm sure ye all are wondering why I've called ye here at this hour."

"Not really."

"Nope."

Moody followed the voices and saw it was Fabian and Gideon Prewett who had spoken. They grinned widely from where they were seated: a few paces behind the table, half hidden in the shadows of the massive bookshelves that lined an entire wall of the office. They had joined the department a little over two years ago now, and Moody had yet to see why they'd been allowed to be aurors in the first place.

MacDonald chose to ignore the Prewett brothers.

"We have had intel regarding an attack being planned. The wizarding settlement of Bulgaria is reportedly the target," he said loudly. A silence fell over the room. Knowing he now had the undivided attention of the entire room, MacDonald continued gravely, "it is likely being led by known death eaters the likes of Mulciber and Travers. Moreover, there's been a tip off regarding the whereabouts of Antonin Dolohov, also last seen in a Bulgarian city, Balchik."

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A/N.
thank you for reading chapter two
of Broken Crown! Don't forget to
vote and comment to make this
author's day brighter!
— take care :)

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