James got up the morning after his father's funeral and slid out of Lily's grasp. He quietly got dressed and, carrying his shoes so they wouldn't weight his steps, he snuck out the door of the Lupin house and across the front yard to the lane. When he'd stepped beyond the reach of the Fidelus, he pulled his trainers on, hopping a couple extra feet of clearance from the protective charm's reach, and then turned on the spot, disappearing.

He reappeared a moment later on the Embankment in London, still tugging on his trainers before he rushed down the wet pathway to the entrance of the Auror Training Center. The weather was damp and drizzly and he wished he'd brought along a jumper, especially once he stepped into the magically cooled interior of the Center. His trainers squeaked a bit as he trotted down the corridor until they'd dried off, and he ducked through the throng of other trainees that milled about, carefully avoiding Frank Longbottom, who he knew would make a big deal about All That Had Happened.

James arrived at the office of Mr. Underhill, took a deep breath and went inside.

Underhill sat at his desk, pouring over papers, his eyes cast down upon them, frowning in concentration. He did not look up as James came in, and he showed no sign of even realizing that he was there at all. James went over to the much smaller desk, crammed into a corner by tall filing cabinets, where a simple quill and ink bottle had been placed, and nothing more. He sat down, feeling rather like he used to do at detentions back at Hogwarts, staring at his hands clasped on the table.

After a moment, still without looking up, Underhill grunted, "Those case files aren't going to file themselves."

James looked around and saw a couple boxes stacked by the wall. He wondered why Underhill didn't simply use magic to file them, but he didn't ask. Instead, James just got up and went over and started working at putting the files away as best he could figure. The drawers were in a somewhat sporadic order, and he wasn't entirely sure he understood the system. It didn't seem to be either alphabetical not by date.

Underhill didn't speak again until James had finished with the filing and even then it was just to point out a basket full of outgoing notices for the Ministry. James took the basket and quickly set to work putting them into envelopes or else rolling them into scrolls and he placed them in a bin marked pick up, and was surprised when several owls showed up almost immediately at Underhill's window.

When the owls had gone, Underhill had a memo to be delivered to Moody downstairs, and then a new file for James to put away.

By then, it was nearly half noon and Underhill stood up, smoothed his robes, and started for the door. He paused there and turned back to look at James with a piercing stare.

"Your father died this week?"

"Yes sir. Yesterday was the funeral. That's why I couldn't make it in."

Underhill nodded slowly. His scowling face was lined with rough edges and he held the door. "Are you hungry?"

James was caught off guard. "Hungry?"

"For food. It's lunch."

"Oh. I - I s'pose."

"Then come on," Underhill barked, and he stepped out the office door.

James hesitated, then got up, still not fully understanding what was going on. Did Underhill think he didn't know the way to the kitchens?

Before he knew it, though, they'd turned away from the direction of the kitchens and embarked down a long corridor that echoed their footsteps back to them. There were all kinds of doors and booths along the corridor, which reminded James a bit of the muggle underground that Lily was so keen to ride in lieu of the Knight Bus whenever they went on dates on the other side of London. James looked curiously down the turns as they went past them, wondering where they led, until finally Mr. Underhill came to a stop by a particular booth and beckoned James inside.

It reminded James of a muggle invention Lily had showed him at one of the department stores where she went shopping called an ellyvator. James looked around as they stepped into the vestibule booth and the wall closed up behind them. There was a whirring and the entire room seemed to spin so that the door went circling about them at top speed, dizzyingly quick, until it came to a stop on the opposite wall.

James blinked, disoriented and a bit sickened by the spinning, but Mr. Underhill simply stepped over and pushed the door open and James followed him out into a bright, sunshine filled day in the bustling street of Diagon Alley. There was a slurping sound behind them and the door to the corridor that they'd just come from, which had appeared in the middle of seemingly no where, disappeared without a trace.

James looked at Mr. Underhill, incredulous.

"It's an evolving door," Mr. Underhill said simply, and without further explanation, he led the way to the Leaky Cauldron, where they were seated quickly by the bar keeper, Tom, who appeared to know Mr. Underhill rather well. Though Tom generally seemed to know everyone well, and even if he didn't, it never stopped him from acting as though he did.

James sat awkwardly at the table Mr. Underhill had selected, glancing about the Leaky Cauldron. A few tables over, a couple of older trainees were sitting together, talking and laughing loudly, and James spotted Frank Longbottom among them. Mr. Underhill perused the menu, shooting disapproving glances in the direction of Frank and his friends. James was glad rather suddenly that Mr. Underhill wasn't witnessing himself with the other Marauders, knowing that the four of them, especially Sirius, were much more inclined to causing a ruckus than the group Mr. Underhill was watching.

"Potter," Underhill said suddenly, calling James attention away from Frank and the other trainees, "Do you know why I chose you as my intern over the others who have more experience at the Center?"

James shook his head.

"Albus Dumbledore's praises for you were very, very grandoise," he explained. Underhill eyed James carefully. "I don't particularly hold Dumbledore's opinions in highest regard as many of those in the Wizarding World do. The old man has pulled the wool over the Ministry's eyes many a time and I tend to hold caution when it comes to the opinion of such wizards."

James considered this, then said, "That doesn't exactly explain why you chose me then. If Dumbledore recommended me and you don't usually hold his opinion... in highest regard... then wouldn't you have passed over me to find someone who was recommended by a wizard whose opinion you do value?" He struggled to keep his voice a shade off from snarky.

The corner of Underhill's lip twitched with amusement. "Perhaps you've a spark after all." He turned to a house elf that had just approached them and handed off his menu to the elf, quickly placing order for his lunch. He glanced at James. "And you'll be having...?"

"Nothing, thank you," James replied.

"It is my treat, Mr. Potter," Mr. Underhill pressed.

James shook his head, "I haven't much of an appetite today, really."

"He'll have a butterbeer and bring along as second one of those sandwiches I ordered. Just in case his appetite improves," Underhill told the elf. The house elf backed away, nodding and bowing as he scurried to the kitchen of the Leaky Cauldron. Underhill turned his gaze back to James again once the elf had departed. "You see, Mr. Potter, beyond Dumbledore's recommendations there was a good deal of talk about the Center about your application and acceptance, and many of the aurors were very knowledgeable about your past work."

"My past work?"

"In fighting You Know Who," Underhill said.

James flushed, "I mean, I've only done what I had to in order to survive."

"Well you've impressed several of my best aurors and one of my best training agents," Underhill explained. "Alastor Moody is quite enthusiastic about his claims upon your continuing education - saying that he's going to be the one who does your participatory trainings with you."

"Participatory trainings, sir?"

"Next year, when you're ready to go out into the world as an Auror in Training, when you answer calls for assistance and handle real world situations, Potter. When you're ready to begin your career."

"Oh. Moody wants to train me on all that?"

"He's insisted. And being the best auror we've got on the force, Alastor generally gets what he wants. That is, of course, unless I happen to snatch you up before he can." Underhill's eyes were very pointed as he looked James over. "Do you see what I am saying with this?"

"You want to make sure that if there's anything special here, you're the one who gets the credit for nurturing it," James replied astutely.

Underhill's lip twitched again with amusement. "You're quick."

"Do you know why I accepted your offer as intern for you, Mr. Underhill?" James requested.

Underhill's twitch deepened. "No. Why?"

"Because, like with me, Dumbledore has a very strong opinion about you as well, sir," James answered, his eyes leveling with Underhill's in a way that might have appeared friendly to passersby but which Underhill clearly understood as a threat. He shifted his weight in his chair and sat up straighter, as though asserting his authority. "It's just easiest to keep an eye on a person when they are in the same room, isn't it?" James asked pointedly.

Underhill nodded slowly. "Indeed," he murmured.

The elf returned then with a tray and snapped his fingers so that the two plates and drinks floated over onto the table and then he departed without a word.

Underhill was still nodding slowly, musing, "Indeed," as the elf left.

James said, "So long as we're on the same page." Then he looked down at the plate and drink before him and back up at Underhill. "You know, I do have a bit of an appetite after all, sir," and he started eating, feeling the weight of Underhill's stare the entire time.

That afternoon, when he'd finished helping Underhill and doing his training, James followed the flow of trainees from the center. He was staring blankly ahead as they moved toward the door in staggered clumps, not wanting to all exit the center at once and draw muggle eyes where they were unwarranted. The day had gone quietly after the odd lunch with Mr. Underhill, but James as still positively exhausted. It had taken nearly all his energy just to keep walking throughout the day, as though he were walking about carrying a great weight on a rope around his neck.

There was a nudge in his side and he looked up to see Frank Longbottom had fallen into step beside him. "Ahoy, Potter," Frank said, grinning.

"Hey Frank," James replied, his voice a bit flat.

"I didn't think we'd see you 'round here so soon after ---" he stopped mid-sentence, rethinking his words. He put his hand on James's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Are you alright, mate?"

"Mhm," James nodded, "Spiffing."

Frank looked concerned.

"I just need to distract my mind is all, Frank."

He nodded. "How's Mrs. Lupin?"

James barely laughed at the title. "He's alright."

"Tragic it had to be over their wedding."

"Yeah."

"At least Mr. Potter got to go to the wedding," Frank said, "Sirius just has to find comfort in the fact that Charlus was there while he could be and --"

"Hey, Frank? I'm sorry, I've got to go. Lily's waiting on me to get home," James interrupted suddenly, feeling something in his stomach twist. (Honestly, Lily was probably a cross between livid and worried, seeing as he'd been supposed to take a couple more days off before going back to the center.)

"Oh - alright," Frank looked worried, "I didn't say something that --"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Frank," James said, and he turned and hurried away from the cluster by the center's exit, deciding he'd use the evolving door that Mr. Underhill had showed him earlier that day.

Maybe, he thought as he paced down the hallway quickly, carefully avoiding every person's eye as he passed, he ought to have waited a couple more days after all.