James noticed Underhill seemed annoyed the next morning. But why, he didn't know.

Exhausted himself from a full moon night with the lads, James didn't have it in him to inquire much of his boss. He didn't reckon Underhill was the sort who would be into true confessions and braiding each other's hair, as Sirius would say, but James recognized later that he probably could've been more of a chum that morning.

"Sir, I'll be leaving office early today," he said, handing Underhill an owl that had just been delivered from the Ministry.

Underhill looked up sharply, "Under whose approval?"

"Erm; yours, sir. Last week. You said I could skive off this afternoon. I've got wedding stuff," James reminded him.

"Right. The wedding."

"Yeah." James nodded. "Only a bit better than a month away."

Underhill nodded gruffly. "Well if you've got the time to spare to go early, then go."

James blinked, confused, standing before Underhill awkwardly. "Sir?"

"I need the Marjorie Grant case solved before you go off on your honeymoon." Underhill looked up at him, his face stern.

"I'm working on it, sir," James said.

"You don't seem to understand the idea of urgency," Underhill said.

James felt defensive. "I'm doing the best I can, sir, I --"

"Potter. A little girl is missing, and you are in charge of finding her. She could've been killed several times over since you've been researching the case! Nearly two months! I happen to know you've hardy spoken to Longbottom about the case, and I don't know what you call working on it, but as far as I know you've only looked into one leas with Constance Merriweather."

"I've been --"

Underhill held up his hands to stop James from speaking. "I understand you are learning but this is a very serious job, being an auror. Peoples lives hang in balance every case you take. YOU are the auror on this case, boy. This isn't like when you were in school and you were trying to figure out things that the grown ups were also working on. When you are an auror, you are the only person working a case. You are the only hope that the person waiting for you has. YOU are IT, Potter. Do you understand? Albus Dumbledore won't be there to give you a time turner if you fuck it up."

James froze, staring at Underhill, and Underhill stared right back.

James felt positively gobsmacked. He didn't know what to say, or if there even was anything to say. Underhill was right. It had dragged on and on and he, James, hadn't really thought about the fact that this was real life, outside of Hogwarts. How many times had he and the lads complained that it seemed like the aurors at the ministry never seemed to get anything done? Well now he was the auror at the ministry not getting something done.

Furthermore, he'd mentioned the time turner. The time turner that Dumbledore specifically said nobody else could know about except the pair of them.

"Go on and do your wedding stuff, Potter. The little girl can wait." Underhill's voice was tired and dismissive.

James felt so numb by the talking down that he didn't argue, he just collected his things and left, his brain throbbingly deep in thought.

"What happened to you? You look like you got run over by a double decker?" Sirius was leaning against the World War Two Monument on the Embankment when James emerged from the tunnel. He had a cigarette between two fingers and his leather jacket on over a button down uniform shirt for the gnome removal service where he and Bilius worked.

James muttered, "Nothing, it's alright."

"Ready to go try on some tuxedos?" Sirius asked, grinning and elbowing James. "Put it on so you can take it off - aaahhwoooo!" He winked and threw his arm about his mate's shoulders.

James followed as he and Sirius walked along past Westminster, crossing over and emerging again along the Mall, headed toward some of the more trendy shops at the Circus.

"Maybe they'll have a lovely pistachio colored suit with hot pink pocket squares for you to try on."

When James was still trapped in his own head, Sirius cleared his throat. "This is the part, Potter, where you say something awful like that you wouldn't wear a pistachio colored suit or some other ridiculous thing like that." He stared at James expectantly. Nothing. Sirius stepped in front of him, stopping him dead in his tracks. "OI! POTTER! What's the matter? And don't say nothing."

James blinked, coming to out of his trance. "Blimey, I'm sorry. My mind's just... wandering."

"Your mind is missing, rather," Sirius said.

James's face paled.

"What?"

"Gods. Oh gods, he's right. She's missing."

"Huh?"

"Marjorie Grant."

"That kid you've been looking for? I should hope so else why else would you be looking for her?"

James shook his head, "I can't go try on tuxedos! I have to find the little girl. She could be anywhere, and I have to figure that all out before I go off on my honeymoon! She could've been killed two or three times over by now!"

Sirius said, "You've been working on it, James, don't be so hard on yourself."

James shook his head, "I haven't though, not more than I would've when we were in school. It was a hard knock hearing it, but it's true. Underhill's right. I've been bloody chattin' it up with you and Remus and Evans, but I haven't been doing any footwork. Not really."

"Well how're you supposed to do anything you dunno where she's at, mate?" Sirius asked, "C'mon, we'll go and try on the tuxedo, then we'll go talk to Remus and Rey'll --"

"Rey will tell me what he's already told me," James said. "I don't need Remus to help me to go on and do the work of it." James looked around. "Sirius, I've got to take a rain check - I've got to work on this." He looked about and hurried to an alley that ran behind a row of restaurants, his hand going to his wand, stowed away under his coat.

"Hang on!" Sirius shouted, hurrying after him, "You can't just run off by yourself, you're --"

James stopped, several steps into the alley, wand out, "Sirius, if I'm going to be an auror, I have to act like one. It's my first case. I can't mess it up." And with a quick flick of his wrist - CRACK! - he was gone.

Sirius stood there anxiously, tottering foot to foot. "Bleedin' idiot, bleedin' idiot," he muttered. He looked around. "Least you could've done is told me where you were going to!" Sirius yelled, looking up at the sky.

James found himself just outside of the grounds of Fallengunder. Far above, cliffs of mountains pointed into the snow-grey sky and owls fluttered in and out of the clouds. The teal peaks of the castle stood out in contrast, bright and looming high overhead.

He found himself suddenly glad that Remus wasn't with him. Last time they'd been here, there had been a lot of terrible things going on, things that Remus needn't relive.

James hadn't said for a reason - he didn't want help. He knew that he needed to solve the case, on his own, and as quickly as possible. He'd always had a reputation of being thick - as porridge - and it had made him mess up before, but he wouldn't let it mess him up again. He would be better, he would be observant, he would be --

Suddenly he was flat on his back, staring up from the bottom of a hole, staring up into the pale sky, the wind knocked right out of him and, worst yet, his wand had fallen from his hand and onto the grass. He could see the tip of it there overhead, half hanging over the gaping mouth of the hole.

"Bloody hell," he murmured.

"Clumsy, clumsy, clumsy," came a voice, and James rolled onto his side and sat up, unable to see who was talking. "Miss yer step? Step onto somebody else's property without lookin' did'ja?" A face peeked over the top of the hole, right beside his wand. "Dropped somethin?"

James stared up, but the silhouette was too dark, he could barely see.

"Says your name and purpose youse come to the castle."

James answered, "Potter. I've come to see Elva - er, Greenwood?"

There was a pause, then the silhouette and the wand both disappeared from view.

James cursed.

But then a rope was thrown down.

He stared at the rope.

The silhouette returned.

"Well, yeh going to climb up it or not?"