In the home of one judge Evans there was a muffled scream and padding of small feet across the hardwood floor. Soon a child knocked on the bedroom door fervently, trying to get to his mother.
“Mamma!” the child called.
The doors opened and a tall man with broad shoulders, caramel hair and vivid green eyes stepped out. Looking down on the child in front of him, he noticed the small trembling of the boys’ tiny frame, and the man frowned.
“What is it, Victor?” the man asked the boy impatiently.
“Where’s mamma? I want to see mamma!” the boy cried out to his father.
The man looked at the boy again and after a long second closed his eyes and sighed. He slowly opened the door to the bedroom and stepped aside so the boy could come in. Once the door opened the boy rushed to see his mother, who was on the bed breathing heavily with a hand over her heart. Once the boy was at the foot of the bed she noticed him standing there and trembling ever so slightly in the darkness.
“Mamma?” the boy called out quietly.
“I’m fine, sweetie. Just a bad dream.” She told the child so she could comfort him, “A really bad dream” she continued and held out her pale arms to the boy so she could hug him.
The boy rushed into his mother’s awaiting arms and as soon as he felt, or rather heard her heartbeat he calmed down. The man stood at the door, watching the exchange silently with a frown. As soon as he saw his son nestle himself into the woman’s embrace so they could sleep, he sighed and closed the door. As he started walking towards the bed to join his family and return to sleep he heard his son’s voice.
“Papa, you’re not mad, are you?” the boy asked timidly.
The man sighed again and almost pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dealing with this particular six year old was very hard unless the mother of the boy in question was present. He could already feel the headache coming.
“No, Victor, Papa’s not mad.” The man said in almost strained voice that the woman noticed.
“Nate, come to bed” she told him gently and then turned to the boy, “and you go to sleep, you shouldn’t be awake at this hour anyway” she softly reprimanded the boy.
“’Kay” the boy muttered and yawned, “Night, mamma. Night, papa” and with that the boy was asleep.
The woman chuckled and the man smiled indulgently. And with that the house of one judge Evans was asleep once again.
It was one of those days. After a night like the one before the mornings were a little strained. Judge Evans had his breakfast and morning tea and left for work after the family morning ritual. It was a Saturday but he still had a trial.
The trial was that of public against Jacoby Smith for killing a man. The odds were in his favor because the man he killed was homosexual, but if the prosecution plays their cards wright and accuse him of orphaning a child, they just might get a chance to win.
Since it was a Saturday, Victor stayed at home with his mother who, for all her aristocratic looks and behavior, liked to experiment in the kitchen.
It was around noon when Emily Evans looked up from one of the new recipes she had been looking at and saw the time. She heard the door open and patter of small feet across the floor coming into the living room. She glanced at the door separating the living room she was in and the hallway. Her son was standing just inside the room looking nervous.
“Victor? What is it, darling?” she asked the now shifting boy.
“Umm… Can you help me put the toys away, mamma?” the little boy asked quietly.
Emily smiled. It was always so amusing to see her little boy worked up over something, so worried and exited at the same time.
“Of course I can, love.” Emily assured him, “Come along now. It’s time for us to clean the front yard.”
Victor just smiled and followed his mother out the front door to put his toys away. He was six now, a big boy; or so papa said. And he was supposed to put his toys away alone by now, but some of the toys are big for him and they have just moved here and he didn’t know what went where. All he did know, though, was not to go near papa’s shed or go into papa’s office without inviting him.
It took them a few minutes to put the toys away. After that job was done they started going into the house. Once inside Victor started talking to his mother.
“Mamma, can I have a snack now?” he asked hopefully with wide grey eyes.
“Yes, you can.” She said ruffling his hair that was so much like his father’s, “Let’s get you a snack.” She continued leading him to the kitchen.
Emily was making a snack for them while Victor chattered happily.
“…and then I saw this kitty reading a map.” He stopped when he saw his mother tense.
“Mamma?” he carefully called her.
She shook her head and smiled down at the boy.
“That sounds interesting. You could write a story about it for papa.” She said.
“That’s a great idea!” Victor exclaimed in his child like wonder, “And I’ll write a funny story so papa will laugh.” He said determinately, “and you too.” He turned to his mother.
The rest of the noon went by peacefully. Victor did his homework that Emily shook her head to but agreed to the idea of teaching them responsibility and time management, but they’ll never see it that way.
It was around three o’clock when the doorbell rang. Emily calmly walked to open the door. She expected maybe one of her gossiping neighbors of Privet Drive, but who she saw was a short woman with graying hair, conservative older suit and red and puffy eyes. The woman had obviously been crying.
“Can I help you?” Emily asked the small woman politely.
The woman sniffed and nodded her head.
“I hope so” the woman said, her voice cracking, “I’m Holly Spencer and I’m looking for Emily Grey. Are you her?” she asked.
“I used to be, I’m Emily Evans now.” Emily told the woman, “How can I help you?” she asked again and then her eyes widened as if she remembered something, “Oh my, where are my manners. Please come in.” she ushered the woman inside the house.
The old woman, Holly, kept her eyes wide open and stared at Emily while going into the living room.
“Evans?” the woman asked shocked, “Are you the wife of Judge Evans?”
Emily gave her a wry smile, “Yes I am” she said, “What has Nathaniel done now?” she asked.
“Oh, he hasn’t done anything offensive. Don’t worry.” The old woman told Emily, “However I heard about a good attorney that could help me.” She explained.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not an attorney anymore. I’ve retired.” Emily told the woman with a small smile directed at a picture if a small boy who looked just like his father with his mother’s eyes.
“I know, I’ve heard.” Holly nodded, “But I was hoping to ask you to help me, this one last time. Please.” By the end Holly sounded desperate.
“Well, it depends, but I’ll try” Emily told her after thinking a little.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” Holly kept repeating.
“Don’t thank me yet. “ She informed the old woman, “So, let’s see this case. What can you tell me?” And so began the last legal case of Emily Evans, formerly Gray. But that is another story of its own.
Suffice to say is that the case judge Nathaniel Evans presided over was the case Emily became prosecutor for, since Holly’s son was the homosexual father who was murdered. Of course Emily won her last case, but it wasn’t easy. After all judge Evans was never an easy man to please and he was always harder on Emily than any other attorney. Why, because Emily’s father was Judge Evans’ mentor and the old judge Gray was even harder to please, basically he wasn’t pleased at all. But of course, Emily used exactly what judge Evans thought could be used to win the case. No one will ever know that and it doesn’t matter since the story is just about to start.
In the day of October 31st, 1981, Judge Evans had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. That entire day was unlucky for him; he even forbade his wife and child to go out trick and treating. The feeling didn’t go away even on November 1st 1981, it, if possible got worse and the strange happenings around the country didn’t help any.
It was 3.04 am on November 2nd 1981 in Privet Drive Little Whining, Surrey. Judge Evans found it hard to sleep so he awoke and simply sat on the bed without moving. It wasn’t long until he noticed something very peculiar happening outside his bedroom window-the lights were going out, one by one. He turned to look at his wife who was still sleeping, blissfully unaware of what was happening just outside their home. He shook his head, it was better this way, she wouldn’t get scared. He slowly stood up, the light in front of number 7 Privet Drive, their home, suddenly went out, and he approached the window.
Bellow him on the street stood an ancient man in robes with a long white beard. It seemed he said something to a cat his son spoke about and in a few seconds in front of him stood a woman in robes with a big pointy hat. He remembered that woman from when she came to introduce his youngest sister to world long forgotten. They started talking about something as they moved towards number 4 Privet Drive, quietly arguing. It wasn’t long until a loud roar of an engine swept over the peaceful neighborhood of Privet Drive. It was a flying motorcycle rode by a giant. He dismounted the motorbike and approached the two awaiting figures with a bundle in his arms. The spoke for a few minutes and then they left. Judge Evans looked at the doorstep of number 4 Privet Drive and what he saw made his blood boil.
Now, Judge Nathaniel Evans isn’t one of the nicest and kindest people; he would be the first to tell you that. But, what angered him the most was child abuse, neglect and endangerment. And what dose people did was two of three and the third just waiting to happen. After all that was the home of his younger sister Petunia Dursley, formerly Evans. She and her husband weren’t the nicest people like they had everyone fooled. And if he was right that child on their doorstep was the child of his youngest sister Lily Potter, formerly Evans.
No, Judge Evans wasn’t the nicest of people, he didn’t have much patience, he was cruel but not a sadist; he loved his wife but he gave her limitations, he adored his son but he didn’t spoil him. But in all his years as a judge, a lawyer before that and a delinquent before that, even as an angry child, he never, not once harmed those younger than him. It truly did make his blood boil that someone would endanger a child in such a way.
He agreed with Petunia on magic, in part, but he still did agree. He didn’t like his baby sister going away where he couldn’t protect her; she was the baby of the family. She grew in that world and got a life, got married, even though he didn’t approve of her husband, and had a child, and is now apparently dead. He didn’t like it when Petunia went to finishing school, he couldn’t protect his little sister like that, he didn’t like that boy she brought back either, but he couldn’t say no to his beautiful sisters. He loved them too much, and that was a mistake. It is too late now to think about ‘what if’.
After making up his mind, Judge Evans woke his wife, told her to get the nursery ready and went to pick up his nephew from his sisters doorstep. He had a nephew to raise, meddlesome old men be damned.