September 21st, 1989, London, Diagon Alley, 11:45 AM
A certain stoic gentleman was sitting inside Rosa Lee Teabag, sheltered from the drizzling rain.
He took a seat by the shop window, trying his best to enjoy the chilling scenery. He was clad in a formal three-piece suit with a dark Castleton green theme, brass trimmings, trousers of the same colour, accompanied by a luxurious bowler hat, an exquisite grey cravat tied in a typical formal way, and leather shoes. All tones up his lean build and charming stoic complexion.
Samantheus Faramundo was having a not-so-joyful day. Ever since that'sly' Ethan gave out those 'innovative' researches of his, Diata and even the whole Department had been on steroids, like wolves having been left hungry too long, and finally saw a mountain of meat. Every meeting was all about the research, how to implement them, what more could be done, the core mechanics, etc.
Truly, no wonder this Department was so different from the rest of the ministry; all they cared about were breakthroughs, new hypotheses, and so on.
With that, there was no way the Head of the Department would be left out of this, for he held the final decision. In addition to his discomfort, Diata, his direct secretary, had successfully developed new charms targeted specifically at Him!
The moment he sly away from the Department, he would immediately be cursed to emit a dung-like smell that grew worse over time. On top of that, this peculiar smell even attracted rats and cockroaches, effectively leading the way for his secretary to track him down easily.
Why didn't he try to lift the charm? Of course, he did! Sam did take pride in his magical capability to be much above average. Yet, it was speculated that it would take him even days—probably weeks—to find a way to breach the defensive layers of this charm.
'Bloody hell, 100 Galleons that Ethan had his hands on this. Maybe he slipped some tips for Diata behind my back.'
Sam took a sip of the newly mixed special lemon tea to calm his nerves. 'Bloody hell, they called this disgusting, unsweet liquid tea!? It is like they liquified Wormwood into a cauldron and then proceeded to squeeze all the lemon they had whilst adding as little sugar as possible. UGH!'
More to Sam's bitterness, his smiles contorted into a hideous mock as he reread the letter Ethan had just sent last night.
The content basically announced that he had found a rather excellent secretary who volunteered to take up 90% of his work, and he assured that Sam would be pleased with this employee despite his peculiarity; his boss was renowned for his upright virtues and boundless generosity after all. Those utterly full of sarcasm praises made Sam's eyes twitch with frustration.
'Oh, who was the poor ignorant sheep that was swayed unnoticed by his smooth-tongued friend here.'
Having stashed the letter back into his inner pocket, Sam wore a bitter smile. He played with the cup of tea in his hand as his mind drifted back to that cold, faithful winter's night. The night, he lost another dear friend, a sister. The night, he almost lost his other dear friend.
Nine years, yet sometimes it was just like yesterday, the day Ethan forever lost the light in his eyes, devoid of any emotion. That haunting silhouette of a man holding on tight to the cold body of a woman amid the winter's silent night. She was the love of his life, his sun, and his hope.
There was no weeping; just the flickering sound and faint light coming from the nearby streetlamp illuminated the couple vaguely.
Slumping on the whitish-icy ground, oblivious to the biting cold and the endless falling snow, Ethan was holding Aelia's cold body in his hand, their heads touching. His tears had already run out, dissolving along the cold wind, leaving only faint lines on his face.
Ever since, Ethan buried himself in work, researching anything to dull the emptiness of losing her, to numb the everlasting pain He became a machine, working tirelessly and exhausting himself every time. Sam still remembered that the only thing they talked about was work, work, and work.
Ethan still maintained basic social courtesy, yet it was so fake, like a preprogrammed machine, devoid of any emotion; only rationality remains. To be honest, it still creeped Sam out sometimes, but he wasn't going to give up on him. It took Sam years of effort just to bring back some of the Ethan he knew and cherished, albeit not much.
Then came Harry.
Once again, somehow, The Boy Who Lived managed to create another wonder. Ethan's taking care of the boy had proven to have a great deal of positive effect on the man's mental health. Sam was able to see the light blooming in those dull, dark-amber eyes again. Then again, Fate played a d**k move; the fate the boy had to shoulder shuddered him; it was cruel, too cruel.
'Let's just hope that Ethan can handle what he got himself into; he has to!'
No sooner did Sam notice a fleeting silhouette approaching the shop.
Yes, it was Remus, the peculiar secretary Ethan had mentioned in his letter, The appearance was a little bit different from what Ethan had described, and the man was looking much brighter. He dressed smartly, and his visage was brighter than ever. His neatly shaved beard and formally combed hair made him look true to his age.
Remus had spotted his target from outside the shop due to the man's prominent position. The man stood up to greet him once he had entered the shop. "Ah, you must be Mr. Lupin; Ethan had already mentioned you." The man's posture exuded an utterly confident aura, and his bright smile only added to his gentlemanliness.
"Please call me Remus; the honour is all mine, Mr. Faramundo," Remus said briskly as he tried to calm himself before such a powerful and respectable figure.
Samatheus Faramundo, a prominent ex-Senior Auror, advocated for harmony, equality, innovation, and justice, made notable contributions during the war, and now head of the most mysterious department. His fame ventured far more than the man thought, even when he was a fifth-year student at Hogwarts.
"Well, then Remus, welcome to Atid Stella Company; the bright future is ours to shape. I'm looking forward to working with you from now on."
"Yes, sir," Remus replied with a joyous smile.
After the formal greetings, the two began discussing the detailed operations of the companies, such as staff recruitment, headquarters location, opening time, product distribution, future collaboration with the ministry and overseas, and marketing. It wasn't until the afternoon that Sam wrapped up the meeting.
To Sam's expectations from the formal Prefect of Gryffindor, Remus Lupin's capabilities were quite satisfying; the man was enthusiastic, perceptive, responsible, levelheaded, and knowledgeable.
'The only problem, like Ethan mentioned, was the man's lycanthropy, but if Ethan had already approved of him, then he must have come up with a solution...
'Speak of the devil!'
Unhurriedly, Sam ordered the same cup of special tea he had had while he was waiting for Remus. Taking the newly brewed cup, he strolled towards an inconspicuous seat. Where a gentleman dressed smartly in his Inverness short cape, donning a stylish top hat capable of hiding that scholarly aura, but not from Sam.
Despite sensing that Sam was approaching, Ethan was still immersed in reading this rather old Daily Prophet issue. The content mainly revolved around Sirius Black, the Death Eater responsible for the lives of the Potters, 12 muggles, and his once dear friend Peter Pettigrew. A war Hero who bravely confronted the maniac, though he was brutally murdered, had only a severed finger left. Ethan narrowed his eyes at the last bit of information.
"Looks who it is! Ethan, my dearest friend, I thought you were sunbathing with your precious boy over in Shanghai." Sam said mockingly as he took the opposite position.
"I thought you'd abandoned this old, poor friend. Here, I brought you a special tea celebrating our friendship. I gotta say, its taste was absolutely out of the world!" Sam was grinning slyly, whereas Ethan just shook his head helplessly as he rolled his eyes.
"Sound disgusting. Anyway, it seems like Remus meets your expectations." Putting down the piece of newspaper, Ethan examined disgustingly the so-called cup of special tea.
"Yes, you could expect that from a prefect after all. I do have a good impression of him back at Hogwarts. Come to think of it, wasn't he in a group… What was it called?" Sam pondered as he took a sip from Ethan's preordered tea.
"The Marauders, there were 4 of them, 2 dead, one's rotting in Azkaban."
"Ah, yes. I remember they were Hogwarts's notorious pranksters. However, some of those pranks did cross the line on several occasions."
"Remus was a good student but also a prankster. He and Peter Pettigrew would sometimes join Sirius and James in detention for mischief-making, though they did not get into as much trouble as their other friends."
"Hold on, other friends... didn't that make him... Was he Harry's Godfather?"
"Obviously…" Ethan began to tell the story about their meeting with Remus at Gringotts, including the detailed event that night.
Letting out a cold breath, Sam said sympathetically. "Such is life."
Ethan added the bitterness. "Such is Fate. Sign, especially Mr. Black, didn't even get a proper trial, or things would have turned out differently, poor man." Looking down at the piece of newspaper in his hand.
Those words, like lightning, struck Sam rapidly as the man furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean, I do know that they were followers of the headmaster; with his position, there was no way... That wasn't the main point, innit…"
Sam's brain racked as he tried to assess the information again and again, much to his annoyance. Ethan was smiling mischievously as the gentleman tapped lightly at the Daily Prophet issue he was holding.
'Peter Pettigrew…Massacre…a severed finger…no trial…things would have been different…'
Sam scratched the back of his head. "Hmm, either there was a third party at that moment who orchestrated the whole thing, framing Black, killing Pettigrew along with the 12 muggles or... Peter Pettigrew was the true traitor; after framing Black for everything, he somehow managed to fake his death in that nick of time."
"Peter was also an unregistered Animagus. Those that didn't lessen the possibility of the presence of a third party"
"You suggesting Peter was still alive out there somewhere after all this time, being an Animagus for all those years? No one ever notices anything?" Sam raised an eyebrow.
"My intuition tells me that. That said, if we had a piece of his belongings here right now, I could divine his whereabouts and clear all suspicion."
'True Seers are scary…' Sam was slightly taken aback by Ethan's abilities, no matter how many times he had witnessed them.
"Well, I keep an eye out for anything amiss about this case." Sam drank his tea hurriedly as he paid the bill and headed towards the exit.
"Time to head back to those monstrous papers, all thanks to you... Be the way, send Harry his Uncle Sam's regard."
Sam took a stroll around Diagon Alley before departing for the workplace. Just then, astonishment dawned on his face as he spotted a figure he hadn't seen for a long time. She was looking through the books at Obscurus Books, marching between rows of titles, searching aimlessly. Her mind was preoccupied.
She was blonde, tall, and slim; she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested there was a nasty smell under her nose.
She was none other than Narcissa Malfoy.
Much to everyone's scepticism, Narcissa's belief in the importance of blood purity did not mean that she was a total retard; having met Samatheus during their school day did leave a big impression of the man on her; his virtues and beliefs truly befitted those of a noble. The fact that Samatheus survived the war added a lot more to his prowess. Thus, they did maintain a rather friendly relationship.
Sam swiftly made his way into the shop, right beside the woman. "It's been quite a while since we last met. It was a pleasure seeing you outside of that lair and away from your'slick' husband; no offence. How was Draco? I hope the boy liked my present for his birthday."
Narcissa was taken aback by the man's sudden appearance, though she quickly regained her manner and scoffed off at his remark. "Yes, Draco was very fond of it since Lucious's various failed attempts to practically erase it out of existence."
The gift was a book that Lucius regarded as filled with 'disturbing' content that would pollute Draco's head with filthiness.
"Ha, too bad I couldn't see his helplessness; it must be amusing," the man said with his signature wide grin.
What Sam gave the boy was nothing but a normal storybook for children, with some worthy life lessons about friendship, true nobility, sacrifices, benevolence, solidarity, and equity. Truth be told, for a pure-blood supremacy fanatic, this was enough to spit on their face.
The woman just scoffed at the man's remark before her visage turned perturbed. "What's the matter? It's rare to see you this… overly concerned. Not even when Lucius had to face a trial."
Having let out a deep sigh, Narcissa's voice was clouded with uncertainty. "It's about Draco. The boy…Sigh. Lucius's way of teaching him was rather unwise. He overly spoiled the boy all the time whilst trying vigorously to sway him into his beliefs, deciding everything for the boy, watching his every step, and acting like some lofty figure...
"At this rate, I fear that Draco will even be able to think for himself in the future and depend on his father for everything. On top of that, he may turn out to be too arrogant and reckless for his own good. I don't want him to repeat his father's mistake, Samantheus."
Sam listened attentively as he lampooned inwardly at the mention of Lucius's way of 'education' which meant brainwashing his son into his toxic ideology. Draco and Harry's circumstances were also one of the reasons why The Magical World was in dire need of proper Child Care and Protection Policies, and corresponding agents.
Narcissa darted Sam a curious look for the longest time before she voiced out her thoughts. "Samatheus, you are the most capable Slytherin I have had the fortune to meet, Your upright nobility, unwavering equity, generosity, profound ambition, and perception...
Sam raised his eyebrows, sensing the woman's true intention as his mouth began to curl up into a mischievous smile yet bore no malice but a rather genuine anticipation.
"May I ask you to be Draco's mentor?"
"With all due respect, Mam, I am delighted to be his mentor."
Narcissa smiled with relief as the two of them shook hands.