If Underhill was there, Greyback would be dead.

The thought sent a chill through James.

If he'd been included in the Ministry requirement for the training sessions that Underhill was running - like Frank and McKenna - then he would've been obligated by Ministry order to aim to kill Fenrir Greyback.

He remembered the conversation he'd had with Lily after talking to Frank, remembered how worried Frank Longbottom was about the prospect of being the one who first had to aim to kill with his wand... and James was thankful once again that he'd left the Auror program. It would be kill or be brought in for an inquiry to answer questioning on why he'd spared the life of a known Death Eater.

But he couldn't have raised his wand - not like that - not when it was so clear that Fenrir Greyback was oblivious to James's presence, believing he was safe from any threat... It seemed almost unfair, even if he had been equipped with the killing curse. James would feel guilty, as guilty as striking from behind or striking an unarmed man. It just wasn't good moral ground.

James was struck by how ordinary Greyback looked when he wasn't in the midst of battle or attack. He had sunglasses on, blocking against the violently bright white reflection of the sun on snow, and he leaned against the wall by the door, arms crossed, looking on as people moved about the courtyard, looking at artifacts and display boards describing the items they were examining before moving into covered porticos that ran beneath James's feet and around three sides of the courtyard, or into a wide door that led them into the tower itself. James watched as Greyback watched two boys playing with wooden swords, shouting and laughing as they jousted, and Greyback's eyes followed them. 

The normalcy of Greyback went away, then, and James felt his mind shriek predator. A strange feeling happened then - something he hadn't experienced yet - it was more than just hating Greyback for the things Greyback had done, but it was hating Greyback for the potential of what he could do, a protective feeling that rose up from James's guts and took over reason so that he was ready to launch himself through the glass to stand between the jousting boys and the werewolf. He drew his wand and turned, keen to find a doorway to the courtyard.

Who needed the new curse to take out an enemy?

But he'd at least do it with Greyback knowing he was there, with Greyback properly prepared to fight. 

He was a few paces down the hall toward the stairs that led out to the courtyard when Dumbledore appeared before him suddenly, grabbed his arm, and pulled him back, laying a finger over his mouth, and forcing James back the other direction.

"All due respect sir, but --" James started, but Dumbledore gave him a Look so determined to silence him that James instantly stopped speaking and followed.

Dumbledore went invisible once more and James felt him guide James forcibly along down the stairs James had come up before and through a quick maze of corridors until they came to a door clearly marked exit - evidently meant for their tourists - and Dumbledore directed James outside. They came through in the crowded market, and Dumbledore's grasp continued until they'd gone a ways down the path away from the tower and into the woods, where the headmaster pulled James into clearing blocked by some trees for privacy. He became visible and James tore the invisibility cloak from his shoulders.

"Sir  --" James's voice was frustrated as he stowed the cloak away. "He was right there. He was right there. Under Ministry orders I --"

"You are not under orders to do anything, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore replied. "You are, in fact, not on Ministry business currently."

"Yes I am, I came here with Mr. Underhill, who's investigating the Blackburn case and --"

"And ordered you to return to the Ministry and submit your report on your short investigation. You chose to return to the Market, did you not? On your own accord? Or had Mr. Underhill ordered you to return to purchase gifts for your wife?"

James's cheeks burned, "What, are you spying on us?"

"When it comes to the activity of this case, yes," Dumbledore replied shortly. Then, "Do you, for even a second, believe that if Harry Underhill had been at your side at that window, he would have allowed Fenrir Greyback to live just now?"

"No!" James said, "And that's the point. I'm not authorized by the Ministry for the curse - I couldn't do it from there. I had to go down to the courtyard to take the bloody bastard out and you stopped me from it!"

"Because I do not want Fenrir Greyback dead, Mr. Potter."

"He killed the Minister, he preys on the weak, on kids - kids like Remus!" James snapped, "Like my --" he stopped, realizing what the feral protective feeling that had risen up in him when he'd seen Greyback looking at those boys. It was parental.

James had a miniature existential crisis right there in the woods in Blackburn as Dumbledore watched, realizing that he was going to be a father, and the weight of what being a father was going to be like. Especially with a war on. And an unholy panic filled James up that knotted his stomach up. He wished all the more suddenly that he'd killed Greyback on site - it would've been one less enemy alive for his child to fear.

"Mr. Potter." 

Dumbledore's voice roused James back to the moment at hand.

"You must not tell Mr. Underhill about the location of this pack house, how to get in, or the fact that Greyback was here," Dumbledore instructed.

"You're mad," James said, his protectiveness now redoubled, having realized that leaving Greyback alive meant Greyback lived to terrorize more families, ruin more lives, bite more victims. "Underhill is my boss, my allegiance lies with him, Dumbledore, before you."

The words hung between them.

Dumbledore stared at James, a frown on his face. "It is for the Order, James."

James shook his head, "Then tell me what benefit it has."

"I cannot, Mr. Potter, as that information is best kept between only those intimately involved in the mission at hand."

"Then I stand by my statement - my allegiance lies with Underhill."

Dumbledore's frown deepened and he sighed and shook his head. "Then I am sorry, Mr. Potter." James started to ask why - but Dumbledore had already raised his wand. "Confundus."

Sirius was at work in Cardiff, organizing records, when he felt the panic clutch his chest tight and seize up his heart. He dropped the record in his hand and it hit the floor with a crack but he was too caught up in the worry - and anger - to care. He rushed to the counter and past his coworker - the man who'd been at the counter the day he'd applied for the job at the shop and hired him on site.

"Sirius? What's wrong, man?"

But Sirius didn't even pause to answer, he just pushed past and into the backroom of the shop. The moment he was out of view, he twisted on the spot, disapparating away to London. He came out at a sprint in the disapparation corridor closest to the Auror Training Center, and made his way through the vaguely familiar halls to the office where James Potter worked. The door was locked. He banged on it several moments. "Oi!" he shouted, "Underhill!"

The door across the hall opened and there was Sean Buckner. "Bloody hell, Sirius, what're you on about? He's up at training - due back, but not back just yet."

"Is James in there?"

"Haven't seen him since this mornin'," Sean said, shaking his head.

"He's supposed to be here."

"Maybe he went up to the training with Underhill," Sean said, unconcerned. Then, at Sirius's panicked expression, he asked, "Everything alright?"

"I just need to find James," Sirius said. He looked about the corridor, then asked, "D'you know where the training rooms are?"

"The training is restricted so they're probably using the ones on Level 10, but you aren't goin' to be gettin' anywhere near to them with the security they put on 'em," Sean added, seeing Sirius about to break into a sprint again. "What's got you in such a dither?"

Sirius shook his head and wrenched his arm away from the copier, and started down the hallway at a trot and was nearly to the end of it when none other than Harry Underhill himself came 'round the corner, looking disgruntled, frowning and shaking his head as he carried a folder of paperwork under one arm and nearly ran into Sirius.

"Sirius!" Underhill said, surprised to see him there and in such a panicked state as he was. "What's going on?"

"Where's James?"

"Isn't he in the office?" Underhill gestured toward the office door ahead on the right.

"No," Sirius said.

Underhill's brow cinched together and he pushed 'round Sirius, stepping quickly up the hall to the door, finding it locked, and a look of concern overtaking him. He shoved the folder of papers in his arm into Sean's hands. "Could you copy these for me, Buckner?"

"Yes sir," Sean nodded, hesitated as Underhill unlocked his door and pushed inside, followed by Sirius, then turned and went into his own office, wondering what was really going on.

Underhill looked at James's desk and then over to his own, saw there was no report from that morning's investigations, and turned to Sirius. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Sirius said.

Underhill studied him, then, "Why are you here, then?"

"There's something going on, I just don't know what it is, and I have to find James. Where's he gone to?"

"I'm not at liberty to disclose. Sirius. Go home. I'll find him and send him home."

"No way. Take me with you wherever you're going. I'll help find him."

"I can't authorize that, Sirius, it's Ministry business."

"Fuck the Ministry!" Sirius shouted.

Underhill hissed, "Shhh." 

"Well it's true! I'm helping find my mate. You're just lucky Lily isn't here yet."

"Is she coming?" Underhill sounded genuinely worried.

"Not yet."

Underhill sighed, "Alright. Alright c'mon."

When they disapparated to Blackburn, the job for finding James wasn't hard at all. In fact, it was almost too easy. 

James Potter was sitting on the bench in front of the station in Blackburn, holding the package that he'd purchased at the market, holding the box containing the jewelry he'd purchased for Lily, eyes a bit unfocused.

"Potter," Underhill said at the same time Sirius shouted, "Prongs!" and ran across the cobblestones to wrap his arms about James's neck. "You're alright!"

"Blimey," James said in a muddled sort of tone. "Of course I'm alright. Whatever would make you think I wasn't?" He blinked up at Sirius.

"Because you were in a bloody panic!" Sirius replied.

"I was?" James asked. Then his eyes focused on Underhill. "Oh. Hullo sir."

Underhill looked James over, "Hullo..." he raised an eyebrow. "You didn't go back to the office, Potter."

James stared up at him in confusion. "Back to the office?" He paused, then looked down at the box in his hands, then up at Underhill. "I - I wasn't - at the office... I don't think. Was I? Was I at the office today?"

Sirius looked at Underhill.

 "You were in the office this morning. We can to Blackburn to do a bit of investigation, didn't we?" he prodded.

James looked confused.

"Do you remember going to the three unmapped stops on the map, James?" Underhill asked, and he walked over to the map board, about to rap his knuckles on them to remind James -- but the locations were gone. He stared at the board in disbelief, then looked back at James and Sirius with an expression of worry.

Sirius asked, "What's happened?"

"Someone's changed it," Underhill muttered. He looked at James, "Someone's changed the board and erased Potter's memory of it." He pointed to the box. "Where did you get this, James?"

James blinked at it as though he'd never seen it before. "What's this?" He opened the box and stared at the necklace laying in a little bed of velvet, then up at Underhill.

"It looks like you've purchased something for your wife," Underhill replied slowly. "Where did you get it?"

James shook his head. "I don't know."