Chapter 1: 1st September 1971
Summary:
The Marauders, Lily and Severus arrive at Hogwarts and are sorted into their houses.
Chapter Text
1st September 1971
Black, Sirius
Hello. Another Black.
Sirius felt the numbed fear that had been building in him since he’d been presented with his letter, by Kreacher, months ago reach a crisis point. His insides felt like they were physically quivering. He gritted his teeth.
“Don’t do it.” He hissed at the hat, squeezing his eyes shut as though it’d give the words more conviction. “Please don’t. I’m not like her. I’m not like them.”
Yes, well I’m glad we agree. I see not a cunning bone in you, Sirius Black. Nor do I detect any great respect for ambition…
Sirius didn’t care that he’d just been insulted by an old hat. To hear it, from an impartial judge, that he wasn’t like the others (even in the most basic association) made him slump out of his ridged posture in relief. He’d been so confused, for so long, and pulled in every direction since he first questioned his family as to what kind of person he really was. It felt like a release to be un-cuffed from this one Black tradition.
You’re quite welcome. Now, what would you say to “GRYFFINDOR!”
Sirius pushed up the old hat to reveal the Great Hall in all its cheering glory, and the right-most table clapping almost aggressively in welcome. He flicked his gaze over to the table nearest the doors to see the cool expression of his cousin Bellatrix, her dark eyes boring into him even from this distance. Before he could feel any real nervousness, however, he grinned at the sight of his biggest cousin, Andromeda, head girl badge gleaming on her chest, elbow Bellatrix so roughly she nearly fell off the bench. Sirius grinned back at her and hurried to the Gryffindor table still smiling, the image of his cousin clapping for him filling his chest with happiness like a tidal wave.
Evans, Lily
Lily screwed up her face as the old, frayed and rather dirty hat dropped down over her eyes and obscured the hundreds of faces in the great hall that had been staring up at her. It was oddly comforting, if a bit stuffy. It felt as though she were completely alone, removed from the fears of being separated from her family, and her sister, being in a new place and the possibility of being away from Severus for the first time since she’d stepped onto the magical platform.
No need to be so worried.
Lily stifled a gasp as a clear voice seemed to ring through her skull like an empty chamber.
I’m just flicking through to see where I should put you.
Lily didn’t like the insinuation that the hat was rifling through her thoughts, but she capitalised on the opportunity and thought as hard as she could; I want to go where Severus goes. Lily thought she could hear a smile in the hat’s next words.
I haven’t sorted a Severus yet. We’ll have to see how similar your two are, won’t we? Is he intelligent? You’ll make a model student I’m sure… proud of your own curiosity and ability… perhaps Ravenclaw? But what’s this?
The hours old memory of her father on the platform had creeped to the forefront of her mind. He’d squeezed her tight, called her ‘Flower’ and assured her that she could always come home, if it was too much. That things didn’t have to change, he’d said. She didn’t have to be brave.
And yet, here you are, Lily Evans, with no intention of leaving. So decisive and stubborn so young. I know when I see a “GRYFFINDOR!”
Someone whipped the hat off her head, pulling loose strands of copper hair free from her long, neat plait and she saw the table furthest from the huge doors giving her a particularly enthusiastic applause. She took a deep breath to push down the shock and allowed her face to break into a wide smile and she walked to the raucous end table, trying not to think of Severus behind her.
Lupin, Remus
Rather than sitting on the stool, Remus rather thought his legs just gave way beneath him and he should consider himself lucky that the chair caught him. He’d been so happy to be going to school for the first time, to not be locked away, but instead be given the opportunity to meet new people, but now… He’d spent most of his life up until this point away from the rest of the world, in the company of only his mother and father. Suddenly thrust into an environment surrounded by hundreds of children was totally nerve wracking. He’d quickly realised he had no idea how to interact with other people his age and being the focus of so many pairs of eyes made him feel physically sick.
The Sorting Hat was dropped on his head and fell down over his eyes, blocking sound and sight completely but not erasing the weight of the hall’s attention. Remus heard a voice ring clear through his head as though his own brain were thinking the words.
What an unusual young man. Remus screwed his eyes shut under the hat as though the voice was painful. Why so worried? I’ve seen students with a lot more riding on their house over the years than you.
The hat fell silent, as though it were sifting through his mind to find an answer. An image of his parents swam to the front of his mind and Remus’ knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on the rim of the stool. I just want them to be proud of me. I make everything so difficult for them, they must be relieved to have their lives back now. It’s the least I can do. The hat seemed to ‘hmm’ in acknowledgement.
Well I see you won’t have to worry about bad marks, with a brilliant mind like that, your belief in hard work and fair play will take you far. You’ve a lot of ambition, for such a young kid.
It’ll never happen though. Remus thought. It’s all a waste. I can work as hard as I like and I’ll never amount to anything because… because of the way I am… Remus thought he heard the hat chuckle.
Have a little more confidence in yourself Remus. “GRYFFINDOR!”
Pettigrew, Peter
Peter’s feet didn’t touch the floor once he’d scrambled up onto the rickety, three legged stool, ready for Professor McGonagall to place the Sorting Hat on his head. When she did, it was as though all the lights had gone out. A smooth voice spoke in his ear and Peter squeaked in shock.
Desperate to prove yourself already and you’ve only just sat down.
Peter thought that he’d rather have faced some of the rumours which were spreading across the Hogwarts Express about the nature of the sorting, rather than sit here with the same hat that knew his parents sifting through his darkest thoughts. There were a few feelings he’d rather keep to himself.
Oh don’t worry I shan’t be telling anyone. Your insecurities are your own business. I suppose you don’t want to be in Ravenclaw?
I can’t compare to them… I’m not smart enough… I can’t… I just don’t know what I’m going to do… The gut-wrenching memory of his mother hugging him while his father congratulated him excitedly surfaced. Peter had played through it again and again and, like an old tape, had become more disjointed and worried with each viewing. His brothers watching from the hallway, whispering to each other. His mother saying how much this would change things.
They’re all squibs, you see? Peter told the hat miserably. Everyone’s watching me now.
And you just feel as though you can’t live up to all the new attention. Don’t worry, you’re not the first to be living up to high expectations. Not even the only in this year. You might be the odd one in your family, but you won’t stand out in… “GRYFFINDOR!”
Potter, James
James Potter nearly collapsed the rickety stool in his haste to sit himself on it and he could have sworn he saw Professor McGonagall roll her eyes before she placed the old hat on his head. Excitement bubbled inside him like some out of control reaction in his stomach and he swung short legs in anticipation.
Not a concern in your head I see? Said a voice in James’ ear that he knew to be the Sorting Hat.
Yes! I’m going to be in Gryffindor, like my Dad, right? The thought rang so sure and true that, if the hat had any, it would’ve raised it’s eyebrows.
I think I’ll be the one making the decisions here.
James conviction faltered for the first time in a long time. What? I’m not brave enough?
Well you’re certainly brazen enough. I’m not so petty that I won’t deny you your wish because of a little big-headedness. “GRYFFINDOR!”
Snape, Severus
Oh! Severus, you’ve been mentioned. Made a good friend already, have you? A hundred memories of Lily were presented by Severus for the hat to witness, all smothered in the association of loyalty, friendship and blissful happiness.
But you put her in Gryffindor.
I put her where she belongs. And now it’s your turn. The hat must have felt his indecision because it felt to Severus as though it voiced his feelings more accurately than he would ever dare to say aloud. You’d loathe to be in Gryffindor, and yet, you’d rather be with that girl than anywhere else.
Severus fiddled with his new robes. What if she forgets about me? She’ll make new friends. She’s nice, and pretty and funny and… well, you can see me. Saying (or rather thinking) the insecurities that had been weighing him down regarding Lily hadn’t made him feel better
But you’re not without your qualities. What an excellent mind, and no, I don’t just mean academics. You should have a little more faith in yourself, you’ve an incredible cunning streak you could put to very good use in Slytherin. The hat must have felt his conflict. It continued; You’re going to have to decide what kind of person you want to be eventually – you can’t deny yourself what you want in the hope of banal happiness. You can keep your connections, if you work hard enough for them, if you really want them. But people turn against you and you’ll wish you had just relied on yourself all along, right? Severus thought of his mother in that moment, sitting at the table with her son eating a lonely supper looking haggard while her husband wore off his anger on the picture frames and ornaments in the adjacent room.
Well if you want to think of it that way… “SLYTHERIN!”
* * *
Entering the Gryffindor girls’ dormitories for the first time, Lily had no spare energy to take awe in her surroundings. She had climbed what felt like a hundred staircases and eaten what felt like a week’s worth of meals that evening and now would like nothing more than to climb into her bed. Her trunk full was somehow up next to one of the beds even though the last time she’d seen it was on the train. She had the bed nearest the door and was neighbour to a girl called Dorcas whom she and Severus had met on the journey. She was kind-faced with an alarming amount of strawberry blonde curls and a liberal smattering of freckles to rival Lily’s.
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life,” moaned Dorcas, struggling into pyjamas with her eyes half closed. “I’m gonna explode!”
Lily sat on the edge of her new four-poster bed and copied her new friend, pulling out pyjamas and stuffing her new robes into her trunk carelessly. It was going to be very different from staying at home. No more knocking on the wall that joined her and her sister’s rooms to hear Petunia knocking back. No more crawling into her parents’ bed in the mornings. She’d have to stop being such a baby. Petunia always said she could be such a baby. Petunia said it was because she was the youngest. Her fellow Gryffindor girls, Marline and Mary, were crowded around one of the oil lamps writing letters with feathered pens. Quills. It would probably be a good idea to write to her parents.
“Are you going to write home tonight too?” She asked Dorcas, who yawned hugely and nodded.
“I suppose. We can take them to the owlery tomorrow together, if you want? I suppose I could’ve just bought an owl and made things easier, but I love cats.” She grinned and snatched her new cat up from the ground as it stalked past her and pulled it up onto the bed, despite its protest.
While Lily wrote her first letter home (describing in intense detail all the fantastic food she’d eaten) she thought maybe, next year, when her parents were sure she wanted to stay, they might relent to getting her a cat too.
* * *
Sirius was yanked through the dormitory door by the arm. His new friend, James, had a thousand times more energy than he could ever hope to have after such a long and emotionally draining day.
“Look! Our trunks are next to each other! We’ve got the beds next to each other!” James was practically buzzing, the ends of his disastrously untamed hair quivering and his face shining. Sirius couldn’t help but break into a smile. He’d never met anyone like this boy before. He was a mess, one trouser leg tucked into his sock, his collar tucked into his jumper and his tie in disarray. He was such a contrast to Sirius and his immaculate self that it felt almost rebellious to be standing next to this boy. It was so deeply ingrained in Sirius to be perfect any time eyes were on him that he was constantly exhausted with the effort, it looked like it would be a relief to have the carefree attitude of this boy.
He heard the dormitory door open behind him and two other boys entered – the other new Gryffindor first years who they’d be sharing a dorm with. Sirius thought he remembered their names as Remus and Peter. He’d heard of the Potter family and the Pettigrew family (though always in sneering tones) but he couldn't think of where he'd heard Lupin before – though he was sure the name had cropped up somewhere.. He wondered if the boy was muggle-born. He didn’t know how to feel about him.
He was small, in a different way to James. Where his new friend was short and stocky, this boy was like a reed, pale faced with twig-like arms. Sirius noticed that his curly hair was drooping somewhat in the late hour and that the candlelight in the room made noticeable silvery scarring on his hands and across the bridge of his nose. He was talking to the other boy and smiling lightly though, clearly putting Peter at ease.
Peter looked as nervous as Sirius, wringing his fingers over the edges of his new robes. James interrupted his thoughts. He almost pounced on the other boys.
“What’re your names? Romulus, right? And Pete?” Clearly, James hadn’t been nearly as attentive as Sirius had been in the Great Hall. Sirius saw Remus smile good-naturedly again.
“Nearly. I’m Remus Lupin. I remember from the sorting, you’re James Potter, and you’re Sirius Black,” he replied, turning and nodding to Sirius.
“I’m Peter Pettigrew,” added the other boy in a small voice. It seemed like James’ boisterous attitude put him on edge a little.
“This is going to be great!” James flopped onto his bed, a satisfied grin on his face. “It’s going to be like one huge sleepover! I can’t wait for tomorrow!”
Sirius carefully folded his new robes and put them on the chair between his and James’ beds before taking a glance around the room. James was face-first in his bedding – asleep as though he hadn’t been bouncing from the walls not five minutes ago. Remus was sitting in bed writing a letter (presumably telling of his sorting) with a muggle pen. Peter was lovingly stroking what Sirius supposed was his new pet owl, a contented smile on his face.
Lastly, he looked over at his tie which was lying on top of his folded clothes. When he’d bought it, it had been black. Now it was red and gold.
Sirius smiled as he turned over to sleep.
AN: This was beta-read by TenThousandLilies from Fanfiction.net – it’s thanks to her that this whole chapter isn’t just one long, rambling sentence, as is my bad habit. :) This story is going to cover the Marauders’ first year at Hogwarts with chapters coving key moments rather than the year as a whole – just so you know what you’re getting in for. I’m hoping to cover the years 1971 to 1978 but that’s a long way to go… Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I’ll see you next chapter! Have a lovely day! ~
Chapter 2: 2nd September 1971
Summary:
Classes begin, the pure bloods receive a lesson in wizarding politics and Sirius decides who he wants to be for the rest of his life.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
By the time the pair reached the right Potions classroom on Monday morning, James was completely out of breath, having talked non-stop at his new friend the entire journey. Sirius - who was used to the quiet, reserved guests his family permitted to visit and his uptight, proper cousins - was completely thrown by the unapologetic constant talking. Every time James drew breath, he searched his mind for some contribution but didn’t have time to formulate an answer before his new friend was off again. In fact, he only stopped when they met the line that was the rest of the class, just worming into their potions classroom.
Sirius chose a table near the back and James rushed next to him, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes and beaming.
“Professor Slughorn teaches this class. He knows my dad; you know?” James stage whispered to Sirius, completely oblivious to the way his new friend leaned away slightly at the abrupt close proximity. “He’s right annoying, but he’s alright. He’ll absolutely pick favourites, so you might as well show off – are you any good at potions?”
“I’m okay,” Sirius replied, not looking at James and watching for the professor to come though the dungeon door.
“Did your parents teach you before you started here? My dad loves potions – he invented Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, did you know? Mum’s always going bonkers because he’s messing about with all sorts of stuff and testing them out without telling us. He made all my hair fall out when I was five trying to invent a colour-change hair dye, you know?” James prattled on with his head in his book bag, trying to find his Beginners Guide to Potion Making and a quill. He emerged just as their professor entered, his arms full of a cauldron brimming with dry ingredients.
“Welcome to Potions, first years, I am Professor Slughorn. Funny that you should be starting your magical education with a subject which requires very little wand-work, however I hope that the precision and subtlety of Potions - which can be lacking in some other subjects - will give you an appreciation for magic as a multi-faceted art.” As he said this, he laid out the ingredients he’d been carrying onto the front desk and began to write out instructions on the blackboard.
“You’ll find that small nuances can determine the effectiveness of a potion early on, so I implore you to follow the instructions to the letter to achieve the best results. There’s not a lot of damage you can do with these low level ingredients, but it’s best to be careful.”
Sirius’ attention was beginning to wander – this speech was for muggleborns, or students with muggle-loving parents who knew nothing about magic and hadn’t been taught anything prior to enrolment. He wasn’t looking forward to being coddled for the first year of his magical education and could see his father’s complaint of allowing mixed magical and muggleborn classes at Hogwarts – or even allowing muggle-borns at all. He flicked though his Potions textbook, looking to see if any exciting potions were likely to be planned for their upcoming classes. At the very least, if this year was going to be easy he could put in minimal effort and still keep his parents off his back. He didn’t want to attract any negative attention. As boisterous as James Potter was, at least he had some background in potions and he wouldn’t be forced to help out an idiot for the rest of his school career.
James nudged him out of his thoughts by snapping the textbook he was reading closed. The class was moving around, collecting the ingredients that Slughorn had written out on the blackboard, with Slughorn himself benignly correcting students who were rifling in the wrong cupboards. James started up his chatter under the safety of the noise of the class and the clanking of utensils being dropped on the floor.
“So did you do much prep work before you came, Sirius?” James asked, grabbing a handful of beetle eyes. “My parents didn’t want me to do much because they said it would be unfair – but that’s so unfair! I could be top of the class at the beginning of the year without even trying!”
“We had tutors for potions, wandwork and arithmancy,” Sirius replied carefully, “but I think it’s a family tradition.”
James pouted at Sirius, dumped his newly collected ingredients on the desk in front of his cauldron and started pounding his beetle eyes into a fine powder.
“That’s so unfair!” Sirius couldn’t help but notice a definite whine coming out in his voice. “My parents wouldn’t let me get my wand until I got my letter! They said I had to do it ‘properly’! I can’t believe you actually got to practice with it before-hand!” James dumped his beetle eye powder into his cauldron along with half a pint of goat stomach-bile a little aggressively. “What is the point of being pure blood if you don’t get any benefit?”
James continued to grumble, but Sirius ran through what had been said carefully. He knew that his family’s views were unpopular, and so he spoke carefully with wizarding strangers, for fear of spouting some elitist propaganda that had been drilled into him. It was only thanks to his ‘muggle-loving’ cousin, Andromeda, that he’d ever had a chance to talk to someone who thought differently than his parents for more than five minutes. But what James had said aligned with that constant rhetoric of his parents. And so he tested the waters.
“My father thinks that muggle-borns and pure-bloods shouldn’t be taught in the same classes, because the muggle-borns would hold us back…”
Sirius stole a glance at James from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his reaction, but James was too busy attempting to wipe the mist from his glasses with the sleeve of his robes, thanks to the warmth of the small fires lit around the room. Someone from the desk in front answered Sirius instead.
“What about half-bloods, then?”
It was the limp-haired boy from the train who was at the desk in front, paired up with the ginger-haired girl who’d been sorted into Gryffindor. She didn’t turn around into the conversation, but from the way her hands stilled, Sirius knew she was listening.
“Butt out, Snivels,” said James, not bothering to make eye contact. But the boy – Severus Snape, he remembered – wasn’t interested in James, he focussed his glare on Sirius.
“Well, what about them?”
Sirius didn’t answer. By his father’s reasoning, this wouldn’t even be a valid question, because the idea that a wizard would dilute their blood with a muggle’s would be laughable, but he wasn’t fool enough to think that this belief was repeatable. Luckily, James answered for him.
“Well, I suppose it would depend on how much work they’d done before attending.” James answered while conducting the twelve counter-clockwise stirs and adding crushed dandelion heads. “All Sirius is saying, is that lumping students of different abilities together in first year would make things difficult for students with no magical knowledge, compared to students like him.”
Snape opened his mouth to argue, but at that point, the girl joined the conversation proper.
“What, and you’ll split us depending on our parents then? Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair? What if I’ve read all my textbooks, and you haven’t? What if I’m better at this subject than you? How can you know? It’s only the first day!”
Sirius raised his eyebrows. He supposed she must be muggle-born, and she was scowling hard at James, pointing an aggressive finger at his face.
“I didn’t realise,” she continued, “that you’re not just a rude, fat-headed brat, but that you also don’t bother to think for yourself.” The girl turned back to her desk with such ferocity that her swinging plaits almost whipped James about the face. Snape smirked at James and threw a disgusted look at Sirius before turning to join his friend.
James looked at Sirius incredulously. “Have I really got a fat head?” he hissed. Sirius gave an uncharacteristic snort of laughter.
“It’s a bit big, I won’t lie.”
James scowled and squashed his face comically with his hands and but on an absurd voice. “What about half-bloods?” he mocked in a stage whisper. “What if I’ve read all my textbooks already?”
“I should hope you’ve read all your textbooks already, Mr Potter, given your father’s proficiency.”
Sirius fought to control a smirk as James snapped to attention at his cauldron and hid his hands behind his back as though he hadn’t just been caught distorting his face into that of a particularly wrinkly troll by the potions professor.
“Yes, sir!” He reassured as earnestly as he could manage, looking wide-eyed at Slughorn from behind his fuggy glasses. Slughorn maintained his hard stare for another half minute before cracking a grin.
“Not that it matters – you’re work so far…” He bent over James’ cauldron, which contained a substance of the dark green colour described by the textbook, but the consistency of snot. “…Would be commendable if you hadn’t allowed it to congeal because you were too busy engaging in the conversation of talented, pretty classmates! Better luck next time!”
Slughorn waddled off, still smiling to himself, apparently under the impression that he’d made an astute, fatherly observation. On the contrary, James made a face at Sirius and mouthed; “What pretty classmate? I hope he doesn’t mean you.”
~*~
After Potions, which had concluded with a decent amount of scowling on James’ part while Slughorn praised the pair in front, the Gryffindors had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs. Snape and Evans were basking in the glory of Slughorn’s praise, until they split for their next class, for their ‘innovative’ addition of lemon rind in an attempt to ward off the acrid smell of their boil solution. Sirius rather thought that students should only be praised for successes, since the pair’s potion has turned a lurid orange colour as a result and was useless for any purpose other than painting a Chudley Cannons banner, but Slughorn seemed to value innovation and experimentation.
Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, gave the impression of being a by-the-book individual. Sirius sat through her introduction to the subject, trying to ignore James fidgeting next to him, but approved greatly of her systematic awarding of house points to the few students able to turn their matchstick into a needle (he and a Hufflepuff girl with yellow ribbons in her hair and the surname Rodd). James spent most of the lesson scowling at Evans, trying to see if she’d succeeded in her own transfiguration without her noticing him. As a result, he achieved little other than a disdainful look from Professor McGonagall.
She and Remus, who shared their dormitory, appeared to be helping Peter, who by the end of the lesson was in a fretful state – from what Sirius could tell, he was panicking about his lacklustre performance in both morning lessons and Lily and Remus were attempting to reassure him.
The Gryffindors went to collect their dragon hide gloves in preparation for whatever could be waiting for them in their first Herbology lesson, chattering loudly about their first lessons and steadily getting swallowed up in the crowd of much taller students also changing classrooms. Sirius thought he saw the shoulder-length white-blond hair of Lucius Malfoy who, along with his father, Abraxas, had appeared in his drawing room over the summer. If he remembered correctly, he was a Slytherin prefect. Sirius attempted to identify the students around him – was Andromeda with him? But he had difficulty distinguishing one older student from another over the shoulders of the crowd.
The walk to Herbology was their first real chance to look across the grounds in full light. The grounds of Hogwarts stretched far out around the castle and Sirius couldn’t distinguish any clear border. Past the greenhouses was the Forbidden Forrest they had been warned about the night before by the headmaster. Despite the Autumn sun dappling the ground at the fringe of the forest a mix of greens and oranges, it seemed that the darkness solidified only a few feet in.
There were three greenhouses, the one furthest to the forest being locked. A short woman with a round face was waiting outside the closest one. She welcomed them into the greenhouse and introduced them to the various tools and plants around the room. Sirius had never worked with magical plants before, other than those from the apothecary needed to Potions. 12 Grimmauld Place didn’t have a garden and his parents never took a particular interest in it, so he felt some excitement to be experiencing something unknown.
Professor Sprout (after having explained the classes of plants in terms of danger, how to recognise species of the same family, and how those similarities reflected the potions they were often used in) had them organise a set of cuttings into families based on the information provided in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. To James’ amusement, Sirius was visibly disgusted by some of the available plants. It was only the barrier of his thick, dragon-hide gloves that allowed him to even touch a small section of mimbulus mimbletonia, a little green tuber covered in greenish boils. He had to stop himself from vomiting when a bumbling Hufflepuff called Benjie Fenwick lost ten points for his house by accidentally dropping a handful of bouncing bulbs on the floor. Apparently, they did more than bounce, as Sirius and James discovered when they exploded over their shoes and small shoots started growing around their ankles – effectively trapping their feet to the ground and causing James to lose his balance and topple over backwards onto the greenhouse floor. Sirius thought he saw Remus Lupin snigger and point for Peter’s benefit.
~*~
Lunch was an excitable affair and the Gryffindor prefect had some difficulty in controlling the first years and keeping them from running across the Great Hall to hear stories of lessons they hadn’t had yet from other houses. Sirius contended himself to scan the crowds for members of his own family. He saw his older cousin Narcissa have the top of her head kissed by Lucuis Malfoy and saw Andromeda standing at the Ravenclaw table talking to a round faced student he didn’t know who was roaring with laughter.
James was absentmindedly stuffing his face with ham and mustard sandwiches while watching incredulously as Lily, the ginger haired Gryffindor girl, grabbed a slice of corned beef pie and walked across the hall to the Slytherin table and sat down next to a black-haired boy Sirius assumed to be Severus.
“Can you believe her!?” Asked James indignantly. “Going and sitting at the Slytherin table on the first day. I mean, why sit down on You-Know-Who’s table when you’re a muggle-born? Hasn’t she read up on anything since getting her letter?”
“The other boys, their parents are all starting to side with him too, I think,” Sirius noted. “Those boys-” he pointed over “Rodolphus and Evan, their parents are thought to sympathise with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Slytherin is going to become a dumping ground for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s followers and their children, especially if first years who would otherwise go to Slytherin ask the hat otherwise based on politics.”
James narrowed his eyes at Sirius. “Okay, first, how do you know about the Slytherin first years and second, how do you know for sure you can ask the hat what house you want to go to? I thought it was supposed to look at your traits and see where you belong?”
Sirius hesitated – he couldn’t be certain which way his new friend would take his answer. He considered James’ stances up until now, despite his pure-blood status.
“Well my mother told me to ask for Slytherin,” he confessed. “I’m not like the rest of them and she doesn’t want me to… stray, I don’t think. I reckon she thought that if I got into Slytherin, I’d come around eventually.”
He risked a glance at James to gauge his reaction and felt a relief like warm sunlight when he saw James’ mischievous grin – a hundred times more reassuring than any familiarity of Grimmauld Place.
“And you asked for Gryffindor?” James seemed delighted at the very idea of Sirius deliberately disobeying his parent’s blood purist idealism.
“Oh no,” Sirius smirked, “I didn’t even have to ask – the hat was quite offended that I’d even suggest it’d place me in Slytherin.”
James slapped the table in utter joy and attracted a few curious stares with his uproarious laughter and Sirius found himself joining in, thinking for the first time that he wasn’t as strange as he’d been made to believe he was for the past eleven years. In some kind of personal act of final rebellion, when they left the table to make their way to Flying Lessons in the grounds, he filled his pockets with handfuls of mint humbugs.
“Are you excited for flying lessons?” Asked a boy with shockingly ginger hair and an obscene amount of freckles called Edgar Bones, who’d been in their Herbology lesson and had met the pair in the Entrance Hall. “Personally, I don’t see why we should have to if we don’t want to sign up for the Quidditch team next year – there are more direct and practical methods of magical transportation.”
“Like what?”
A group of Gryffindor girls had caught up with them, including Lily. “I hope it’s a bit more graceful than flying looks – I’m Dorcas, by the way.” She introduced herself to Edgar.
“You can use the floo network,” Remus suggested, having joined the group along with Peter as they passed a squat hut near the forest border on their way to the Quidditch Pitch. “It’s much faster than brooms. Or you could apparate, but you have to be seventeen to get your license.”
“No!” James interjected, “you can go by side-along if you’re underage, remember?”
Explanation of magical transport carried the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years down to the flying instructor on the pitch, a woman with sharp eyes who looked a bit like a hawk. Next to her lay a pile of broomsticks and while his parents had often scorned Quidditch and brooms as some fanatical idiocy of the lower classes, he still thought that, given the choice between the two, they’d rather the school offered something a little sleeker than these ratty brooms. He amused himself for a few moments, imagining Hogwarts trying to teach his stern, eleven-year-old mother to fly on a broomstick. It was an absolutely absurd image and it was for this reason that he often wondered if his mother had entered the world the same loud, snobbish adult that she was now.
James pouted at the broom selection. “If I have to ride a broom,” he whined, “why couldn’t I just bring my Cleansweep? Will these things even hold us up?”
The teacher clapped sharply and directed them into a line facing her – there was a fair amount of pushing and shuffling as students attempted to stand next to their friends. Sirius ended up squashed between James and Peter.
“Good afternoon first years,” the teacher greeted the, handing out the shabby brooms. “My name is Madame Hooch, and I won’t be having any silliness, thank you. As you might know, broomsticks are an important part of wizarding tradition and Hogwarts believes that it evens the playing field between students for everyone to have some command over the art, along with apparition which will be taught in sixth year.”
There was a shadow of excited whispering at the promise of apparition lessons. Peter, on the other hand, was looking disdainfully down at his broomstick. Sirius watched as Remus snorted at Peter’s expression good-naturedly. Despite James’ complaints, Sirius noted him hanging on Madame Hooch’s every word. She talked them through commanding and mounting the brooms and Sirius self-consciously followed her instruction. James seemed to be perfectly at home with the idea, Peter, though nervous, looked like he at least was familiar with the process, but Remus and Lily looked to be in a similar dilemma to him. As much as Remus had laughed at Peter’s unease, he looked suitably awkward standing squarely on the grass holding what looked like a glorified sweeping brush between his legs.
‘Kicking off from the ground hard’ turned out to be a lot harder than Madame Hooch made it sound. For students like James and Pater, who were at least familiar with broomsticks, they had no qualms with the notion that an object would hold them up of they did. Remus quickly got over the nervousness that came with the questionable instruction and looked utterly surprised that he’d made it two foot into the air. Sirius only made it off the ground on the thought of what his mother would say about him being so undignified and the disgust of his own cowardice after proving to his new friend that he was a true Gryffindor. Once in the air, flying seemed distinctly less difficult as he hovered obediently at the height Hooch had deemed appropriate and watched her try to convince Dorcas to get in the air.
“Will you try out for the Quidditch team next year?” James asked, indicating the small group of Sirius, Remus, Peter and Edgar.
Peter looked positively repulsed. “I’d probably smash my head open and be sent home first game, I don’t think so. I’m so clumsy. I reckon my mum would like it idea, but my dad doesn’t see the point in Quidditch, so…”
“Yeah, but would you want to?” James insisted. Peter looked a little taken aback.
“Well, I don’t really know. I mean, I asked her and she said she didn’t care either way when it came to Quidditch… But my brothers…” Peter trailed off nervously and risked a fall in letting go of the handle to wipe his sweaty hands on his robes. “I don’t know...”
James seemed to consider Peter for a few moments, before appearing to giving him the benefit of the doubt.
“Well, you’ve got all year to decide. I suppose that’s why they open trials in second year. We’ve got this whole year to practice. And I suppose muggle-borns would have to familiarise themselves with the sport… But then you’d think they’d let us bring our own brooms.”
“I heard,” said Edgar enthusiastically, “that some kid a long time ago, in first year got dared to fly home and smashed into the wards around the castle grounds and got turned into a slug!”
“Yeah, I heard that too,” said James. “My dad told me, but he was laughing so I think it was just a story.”
Once Hooch had coaxed the whole class into the air, they were instructed to fly in a circle around the pitch, which resulted in Lily Evans crashing into Remus, which distracted Peter and caused him to lose his grip and flip upside down. The class ended in a fair amount of alarmed screaming and James and Edgar complaining about the inferior ability of the rest of the class.
~*~
The last lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, which got off to a loud start as a result of the muddy, ruffled looking Gryffindors which caused a fair amount of hilarity among the Slytherins. The professor didn’t particularly enthuse Sirius, a tame looking blonde woman who dressed in some bizarre amalgamation of wizarding and muggle clothes called Fairley. In contrast to the madness of flying, the class consisted of a long introduction to the history of the Dark Arts and an explanation of how malignant and benign magic is categorised by law.
“You’ll find,” Fairley lectured, “that despite the classification of spells by severity, it is difficult to take a witch or wizard to court on the basis of the use of a spell alone. This is why wizarding law relies on case law for convictions. For example-”
Sirius heard James quietly thunking his forehead off the desk next to him. He allowed himself to zone out and cast around for something more interesting. September sun was setting and shining through one of the high windows, casting the two rows in front in blinding yellow light. They spent the first lesson copying down the different classifications of spells and making notes of the Latin roots of many spells. Professor Fairley left each student with a long list of spells with instructions to translate them loosely into English and classify them.
Sirius watched Severus and Lily talking as he screwed the top back onto his ink bottle and dropped it into his bag.
“My mum told me that they used to teach Latin at Hogwarts – you know?” Severus told her, scanning the list of spells. “She tried to teach me some, but it was really difficult when it came to spell roots – well you know how my dad is.”
“I can’t imagine anything more dull,” said Lily, stuffing the homework into her Defence textbook. “Be quite useful to know how incantations are created though. Do you think that means that a person could just make up spells? Are all Latin words spells? Or does a wizard just pick one at random? I wonder how it’s done…”
Sirius thought he remembered his tutor talking about the nature of spell incantations, but he must have zoned out because he seemed to have retained very little of it. He scowled, thinking that if he had just paid attention, he might have been able to do this homework without spending hours on end in the library looking up Latin root words.
“Do you know any of these?” Sirius asked James, who had a red blotch on his forehead from where it had been pressed against the desk for the hour.
“Yeah, a couple – some of them are a bit obvious though – don’t you think ‘lumos’ sounds like illuminate? I’ve never heard of some of them though. What’s this?”
James pointed to a spell on the list.
“Equus Venaticus.”
“I’ve no idea. I can’t even take a guess.”
“I thought you had a tutor?” James accused.
“Yeah, but it was boring sometimes,” Sirius confessed. “Hurry up, we can dump our bags and go to the library to get started before dinner.”
James actually groaned and stamped his feet up the grand staircase. “It’s the first day for God’s sake,” he whined. “I picked the wrong friend. Is it too late to change? I wanted to go exploring.”
Sirius paused on the stairs in thought, allowing others to barge past him, before making the decision which would decide what kind of person he was going to be from this point on.
“We’ll do it tonight!” He called after James, running to catch up. “We’ll go to the library and do the homework, then tonight, we’ll go!”
James turned to him, grinning.
“At night?”
“Yes,” said Sirius, nodding breathlessly.
“If you’re sure -”
“I promise! Let’s do it!”
James actually clapped his hands in excitement, his eyes shining. “Then I’ve got such a great secret to show you!”
~*~
James and Sirius had decided over dinner to go to bed on time with the other first year boys to avoid suspicion. Sirius was utterly unable to fall asleep, as time wore on he grew steadily more and more excited – for whatever secret James had managed to keep tight lipped about, for being up at night in a huge castle, for defying his parents, for exploring… He lay looking at the red canopy, waiting for Remus’ quill to stop scratching in the darkness, thinking that he was quite excited about being in Gryffindor and having a real friend.
A few moments after the silence had reached a deafening point in the first year boys dormitory, Sirius slipped out of his four-poster and padded across to James. He pulled back the curtains with minimal noise and peered around to see if he was awake.
Apparently excitement had exhausted James – he’d clearly tried to stay awake as he was slumped sideways and was wearing his dressing gown, his glasses still on but digging into the side of his head.
“Hey,” whispered Sirius, poking James. “Hey, let’s go!”
James sleepily complained until he came to his senses and seemed to remember their plans a few hours ago and suddenly came to life. He grinned at Sirius and pushed him out of the way to get to his trunk.
“What’s the secret?” Sirius reminded him, kneeling down and trying his best to maintain his manners and not snoop over his friend’s shoulder into his trunk.
“I’m getting it, hold on…”
James’s smirked, having caught something at the bottom of the piles of clothes and books. He tugged at whatever it was rather than just unpacking his things and so it took some effort, but the reveal was worth it.
“Wow!” Sirius breathed, reaching out to feel the lighter-than-silk material James had presented to him. “Is that an invisibility cloak?”
“Yeah – like in ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers.’ It was my dad’s, but I think it’s a family tradition to give it to your son on their first year of Hogwarts – I don’t reckon I’d be able to give it up to my kid if I had a son.” He confessed.
“I don’t blame you,” Sirius said, his eyes travelling hungrily over the cloak, his fingers drifting over the surface in something akin to an act of worship.
“It’s cool, isn’t it? Come on.” James stood up and threw it over his head, vanishing from sight. Sirius clambered to his feet, reaching out to feel for James before his new friend threw the watery material over his head so they were face – to – face under the cloak.
“Let’s go then.”
Sirius smiled to himself as he crept down the dormitory stairs and out of the portrait hole, keeping as close to James as possible to avoid their feet appearing. He felt a distinctive thrill at the thought of how furious his mother would be if she ever found out about his short, smiley friend with a taste for rule breaking and the adventures that they had planned to go on together.
Notes:
AN: Hi everyone – sorry for the very long wait for chapter two, I’m still waiting for this to be beta-read but it’s been sitting for over a month now, so I’m just going to go ahead and publish it because it’s been nearly 6 months since chapter one went up.
If you’re reading this after following chapter one, thanks so much for waiting. If you’re new, welcome to what I imagine will be a long ride.
If you want to see some of the illustrations I’ve drawn up from the plans for this fic, they can be found along with promps, great cosplays and other content related to this fic under the name marauders1971-1978 on tumblr. Feel free to drop in any headcanons etc because although it’s been extensively planned, there’s a lot of room for escapades to fill out chapters and I often use little tumblr posts for ideas.
Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! See you in chapter three!
Chapter 3: 4th October 1971
Summary:
James, Sirius and Peter attempt to cheer up Remus, whose mother is apparently ill.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
James Potter had never been happier, and it wasn't as though he didn't have many great experiences to compare the last month to. So far, he and Sirius had spent five nights sneaking around the castle and they'd already found the entrance to the Slytherin common rooms and an old dungeon likely used for torture judging by the chains and screws. Not to mention, slipping into the restricted section and finding the most unusual books on how to do the crazy things that James had spent his childhood reading about in muggle children's books. They'd found books about curse fire that has a life of its own, they found books on wizards who could turn into animals, they found books on creating zombies. It would be dishonest for him to claim that he hadn't given himself nightmares, but it had added to the thrill.
After the first week, when the introduction segments of their classes came to an end and they started to perform what James considered 'real magic' he was considerably more excited. Defence had turned around from being about classifying spells to actually using them. Professor Fairley had brought in a jar of snails and allowed them to practice jinxes and counter jinxes on them. He and Sirius had been thrilled to find lists of simple spells with the same root were very easy once one was mastered and so they picked their favourites to use on unsuspecting spiders and Severus Snape.
James had never had a true rival before, but he had always quite liked the idea. Before Hogwarts, he had merely enlisted the help of friends or his parents to act as his mortal enemy so he could pretend to valiantly take them down in the name of bravery and chivalry. Usually the enemy was Salazar Slytherin himself, but he supposed he could settle for the greasy haired first year for the time being. Of course, he quite failed to register that Salazar and Gryffindor had once been great friends and this was where the tragedy lay, but short-sightedness could affect a person figuratively and literally.
Not many people were willing to jump in front of Snape and take a jinx for him, probably because he had gone straight to the library to learn a litany of awful hexes for retaliation after the first time James caught him off guard on the corridor. Apparently the humiliation of uncontrollable tap dancing had spurred him into a spree of extracurricular reading.
If he was honest with himself, he quite enjoyed the challenge Snape was putting up. There was nothing brave about picking out someone defenceless, but since the Slytherin insisted on coming back with ever more disgusting and unusual spells it gave him and Sirius a perfectly good excuse to pour over huge volumes in the library in the evening looking up the best way they could get the upper hand. Suffice to say, their Defence grades were excellent.
To make sure that the school didn't lull into boredom after the first month, the house Quidditch teams could be seen practicing in the early morning and late into the night for the first match in November. James had looked with unadulterated longing towards the try-outs for Gryffindor which took place in early October.
"I wish I could try out this year! If only I could try out they'd see how prodigal I am and take me anyway. It's an absolute sin that Dad wouldn't let me bring my broom. If I had it I could have done some flying outside the pitch and maybe caught the captain's eye – been talent spott-"
"Oh my goodness!"
Lily Evans, side-by-side with Severus Snape, passed James and Sirius in the grounds on Saturday afternoon as they watched the new Hufflepuff team practice.
"Potter, do you ever stop talking about yourself?" Said Snape derisively, rolling his eyes.
"Oh good afternoon Snively, Evans," said James, getting up from the ground and pulling himself up to his full, unimpressive height.
"I hope you're thinking of trying out, Snape. I can't think of anything that would help Gryffindor's chances more, to be honest." Sirius had stood to join James, dwarfing him by a few inches. As a pair, James thought, they looked much more impressive. Severus rolled his eyes and veered away from them, tugging on Lily's arm who was positively growling at the two boys.
"I'm sure she gets more riled up than him," Sirius commented. "How are they so close already? I thought she was a muggle-born? Isn't Snape's mother a Prince? That's a pureblood family."
"What are you two saying to rile up Severus and Lily today?"
Remus and Peter had appeared behind them, both wrapped in Gryffindor scarves. Peter's nose was bright red.
"Have you done the transfiguration homework?" Peter asked, sitting down and rummaging in his book bag. "I did the spell, but the theory… I don't see why some metals are more difficult to transfigure than others…"
"Yeah, we did it" said Sirius, looking up at Remus, "have you not yet? Usually you help each other out, right? It's due on the 3rd. I swear McGonagall can smell guilt on your parchment if you did it the night before."
"Well I haven't done it yet, so I told Peter to ask you two," Remus answered, looking at his hands. His bony fingers were worrying the material of his new scarf, widening the holes in the knitting.
"I would have thought you'd have been on top of it too, Remus," James said absentmindedly and he sifted through the papers in his bag, looking for the homework for Peter. Sirius frowned.
"Remus I saw you in the library just the other day doing your homework due this week. Why didn't you do it then?"
Remus scratched his neck and laughed good naturedly. "Well I needed a textbook that had been taken out so I just thought I'd save it for another day."
James emerged with a dog-eared slip of parchment. "Here you go Peter." He handed it over. "We spent a good while looking it up, but we found some alchemy textbooks that related the transfiguration. We just put that it depends on the density of a metal and that it can be referenced on the muggle Periodic Table, didn't we Sirius?"
"The book was called 'Theory for Elemental Transfiguration,' We left it in the library if you want to take it out, Peter. It wasn't so hard once we found the book."
"Thanks a lot guys." The small boy finished scanning James' essay and handed it back to him. "I'll go and take it out later. Remus do you want to do it with me?"
Remus glanced off towards the castle. "I can't tonight, sorry. I'm busy…" He flushed pink at his weak response.
"Busy with what?" Sirius asked. He picked up his bag and made to return up the grounds towards the castle, minding the early sunset streaking over the forest.
"Well… Well Professor Dumbledore is doing me a favour and wants to meet with me early."
James flashed Sirius a look of bemusement which was returned with raised eyebrows.
"Are you in trouble, Remus?" Asked Peter.
Remus didn't answer. He looked off thoughtfully and allowed them to reach the doors in awkward silence, at which point he stopped. "Look, I don't want to go into it. It's k-kind of personal…" He trailed off nervously, looking at the floor rather than at their faces.
Peter, ever out to please, beamed at Remus in an attempt at reassurance. "Remus, you can tell us anything! We're your friends, you know? Right?" He turned to James and Sirius. "We're all mates so you can tell-"
"Don't worry about it Remus, we all have things we'd rather not become common knowledge." Sirius interrupted Peter and sent him a hard glare. "Any respectful family can honour that, isn't that right James, Peter?"
Peter, changing his tact quickly, nodded in blind agreement, but James scoffed. "What's it got to do with family honour? If Remus needs a mate because something's up, then we're mates, Peter's right." James turned to Remus, looking up at the taller boy's awkward face. "But don't stress Remus. You don't have to tell us anything if you don't want to." He tugged on Remus' sleeve in an attempt to get him to look up and smiled at him.
"Look, it's dinner soon – don't look so glum. Why don't we snag some extra food and take it up to the dormitory and have a midnight feast tonight?"
Peter gave a little cheer which cause several passing Ravenclaws to peer at the group curiously and Remus gave a tentative smile behind his scarf.
Remus parted ways with Peter, James and Sirius after dinner, the latter with their deep robe pockets weighed down with various desserts they'd slipped from the dinner table and wrapped in napkins. The three remaining boys took to the Gryffindor boy's dormitory where they hid the snacks in James' bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet. Sirius then attempted to perform a tricky climate control charm on it to stop the cream from melting out of the cakes, but it proved too advanced for him and he merely succeeded in freezing a Battenberg into an icy brick.
James picked up the solid cake and examined it.
"Well I've no idea how to reverse the spell without just melting it with an 'incendio' but I suppose it could be a strong weapon to lob at the Slytherin seeker if they get too far ahead in the first match."
"I'm going to go and do McGonagall's homework, thanks James," said Peter, handing James back his essay. "Will I find that book in the muggle studies section or the alchemy section?"
James slotted his essay into his transfiguration textbook. "We found it under alchemy."
Peter beamed, hitching his bag up over his shoulder. "Thanks a million, James. I don't think I could have got away with another shoddy piece of homework from McGonagall."
James and Sirius heard a clatter a few moments later as Peter stumbled clumsily on the stairs and undoubtedly dropped his transfiguration textbook.
"I think he'd clumsier than me," said James, hauling himself up onto his four poster and inviting Sirius up next to him. "What do reckon that whole thing was about Remus? And what did you mean about family honour? The only time I ever heard 'family honour' was when my dad would go on about the Malfoys being all about 'upholding family honour.' But I don't think he ever said it in a nice way. Do you think Remus' family has a matter to discuss with Dumbledore about him not 'upholding family honour' at school?"
Sirius bit his lip in thought and hummed. "I doubt it. Remus' family would have no cause to want to make sure Remus upheld any honour among pure-blood society, because even though Remus has a pure-blood surname, his mother is a muggle. The name doesn't hold any worth within the sacred 28."
James scowled. "My dad doesn't agree with the sacred 28."
"Yeah, I can imagine, since he's not in it," said Sirius. "My mother always said that the only people who disagree with pureblood society are those who are out casted from it. She said it's all jealousy and low-class attitude."
James rolled his eyes. "Your mum sounds like a right laugh."
Sirius ignored him.
"So, if he doesn't have a discipline meeting with Dumbledore, what were you getting at?" James asked.
"I just meant," said Sirius, pulling the tie out of his hair, "that it's rude and unbecoming of Peter to pester Remus the way he did. If he has a secret, he should have a right to it. All families have secrets." Sirius finished with a pompous finality that made James cringe.
"It makes me gag when you say words like unbecoming." James said. "It makes you sound like the Minister's second deputy." When Sirius didn't fight back, he moved on. "Anyway, I disagree. I think Peter's right. "We're friends. We shouldn't have secrets."
"We're not really friends though, are we?" said Sirius. "I mean, we barely know Remus and Peter and you and I have only known each other a month or so. We don't have anything in common with them other than circumstances beyond our control."
James pulled a rather unattractive face. In his opinion, they were friends. Remus and Peter were as kind to them as Dorcas, Marline and Mary, often kept them company and stepped forward as a willing wizard chess or exploding snap partner. He though Sirius was being rather cold, but he supposed at least he was being honest. Perhaps Sirius had a higher standard of what made a friend. Perhaps that then meant that earning that friendship was a sweeter reward.
"Well even if we aren't friends, I want to know what's troubling Remus, if he'll tell us. For him to meet with Professor Dumbledore… that's something big. McGonagall usually handles anything within Gryffindor house. This must be a problem that affects the school at large."
The two sat in silence in the otherwise empty dormitory for another five minutes or so, listening to the occasional autumn leaf flit against the tower window in the wind, wondering. Eventually, Sirius shrugged off his cloak and rummaged in his trunk and pulled out his chess board and pieces and invited James to a game in the common room until Peter returned.
When Peter returned with his homework, they sat around the fire as the common room slowly emptied around them until their only company were a few sixth and seventh years in the far corner. The fire was low by eleven o'clock when the portrait hole swung open to reveal a tired looking Remus being dropped off by a tall, thin man with dark hair and a kindly face who waved him goodbye as the Fat Lady swung closed again.
"Remus!" Peter exclaimed, standing up immediately and dislodging their exploding snap tower and causing a substantial amount of singing to the hearth rug.
"Was that your dad?" asked James from his seat on the carpet. He was attempting, tentatively, to pick up the smoking cards from the fireplace. Remus picked his way across the common room.
"Yeah, he came to meet Dumbledore and then got him to agree to extending my curfew as long as he promised to walk me back to the tower to spend some time with me."
"That's pretty nice of him," James commented.
Remus smiled. "Yeah. He even said it was lonely at home in the evenings without me. My mum's been working late recently." He removed his cloak, draped it across a nearby chair and joined them in front of the fire.
"Say, Remus, what do your parents do?" Peter asked. "I don't think you've ever told me."
"Oh. My mother works at a local high school as an English teacher and my father works… for the Ministry."
"Really?" James exclaimed. "What department?"
Remus opened his mouth to answer, but to his surprise, Sirius did for him.
"He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Dangerous Creatures, doesn't he?"
Remus looked a little taken aback. "Yeah, he does. How do you know?"
"Well I knew I recognised your surname from the sorting, but I couldn't think where. I thought my mother must have mentioned your family to me at some point because she talks about other families a lot. But I recognise your father's face – wasn't he in the paper about five years ago? My mother kept the clipping. Something to do with the regulation of werewolves…? His name is Lyall Lupin."
Remus had gone quite white. "Y-yes, that's right. How did you remember something from so long ago?"
Sirius pulled a grim face. "My mother has a long memory for such events. And wishes for everyone else in the house to remember it as she does."
"Why was your mother so interested? What does she do?" Asked Peter. Sirius looked bitter.
"Oh she doesn't do anything. Her role is to mind other families' business and keep me and my brother in line."
"You didn't tell me you had a brother," James accused, a bit put out. "Is he coming to Hogwarts soon?"
Sirius nodded. "He'll be here next year."
"Oooh! Fantastic! What's he like? What's his name?" James asked eagerly.
"His name's Regulus. And he's fair, I suppose. We get along, but my parents get more joy out of him than they do out of me."
James grinned and punched Sirius lightly on the arm. "I knew you had a streak of rebellion in you."
Distantly, the clock tower could be heard to chime in midnight. James rubbed his hands together eagerly.
"It's midnight snack time!" He exclaimed, jumping up with a sudden burst of energy. Together the little group made their way up to the boys' dormitory, Peter rubbing his eyes but grinning contentedly despite his sleepiness, James falling up the stairs in his eagerness and Sirius poking light fun at his clumsiness. And at the back of the group, Remus followed, a small, comforted smile on his face, holding his Gryffindor scarf aggressively tightly in his hands.
It was Monday morning at breakfast and James was scanning the Gryffindor table as he slowly spooned an absurd amount of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He'd thought, when he, Sirius and Peter had left the dormitory, that Remus had merely woken earlier than them and set off alone. He couldn't see his familiar, sandy head anywhere along the table however. He turned to Sirius.
"Have you seen Remus this morning?" James asked.
"No," Said Sirius thoughtfully, also casting a glance along the table. "Maybe he went to the hospital wing. I thought he looked ill yesterday. He went to bed early, didn't he?"
"I suppose…" Said James. "We'll see if he turns up for potions."
Remus failed to show in Potions, then Transfiguration and by the time the Gryffindors were walking down to Herbology they were feeling distinctly concerned.
"Suppose he really is ill?" Peter wondered, looking towards the first floor as though he could see into the windows from their distance.
"Or perhaps his father came to see him again." Sirius suggested.
"Speaking of Remus' father," whispered James as they filed into the stuffy greenhouses under Professor Sprout's watchful eye. "What was that business you mentioned yesterday about him being in the papers?"
Sirius cast a sidelong glance to Edgar Bones, who seemed to be pairing up with Peter in Remus' absence. Once he'd determine that the Hufflepuff couldn't hear them over Sprout explaining how different growing conditions for knotgrass could affect its properties in potion making he leaned towards James conspiratorially.
"Well I haven't a particularly good memory of the details, but I do remember my mother lamenting his position being criticized in the paper because she thought he had the right idea about half-breeds."
James looked up at his friend quizzically. "What do you mean, like half-bloods?"
"No, it means creatures with human qualities, like centaurs and vampires and werewolves. He must have advocated for something against them, or my mother wouldn't have been interested. She hates the idea of magical blood being watered down. The idea of allowing part-humans to live like wizards is about as abhorrent to her as mud-bloods."
"Your mother sounds like a fine woman."
The boys' whipped their heads up so fast they appeared to have snapped their necks. Lily and Marline were on Sirius' right-hand-side and apparently Lily had heard their little whispered conversation though Marline looked none the wiser and was watching Professor Sprout intently.
"Butt out, Evans," muttered James. "We're trying to have a conversation here."
"You disgust me, Sirius Black." She hissed savagely. Sirius merely rolled his eyes.
"A person is not always the sum of their upbringing. Surely you must realise this; standing, as you are, in a wizarding school."
Lily narrowed her eyes at him before turning back to her notes – for once not bothering with a sharp retort. James raised his eyebrows behind her back.
"Wow, can you teach me how to do that?"
"I'm just starting to wish people wouldn't make wild guesses about my morals when I'm not even sure what they are yet," Sirius sighed. "Anyway, he'd been attacked or something as a result. I suppose it must have been from an advocating group – or a werewolf itself – but my mother was worried the Ministry was going to bend and fire him, but in the end they just rejected whatever he'd put forward."
"He was attacked by a werewolf?" James hissed, any interest he might've had in the lesson having disappeared quite abruptly.
"Oh I don't think he was bitten. I would have remembered that. And if he is a werewolf, would Dumbledore have allowed him to come to Hogwarts yesterday?"
"Werewolves aren't dangerous on days other than the full moon though, Sirius." Said James, frowning disapprovingly at his friend.
"No, of course not, but it's full moon tonight – and werewolves are recorded as being temperamental on the nights surrounding the true full moon."
"Oh Merlin, you've just reminded me that we've got astronomy homework for tomorrow."
"And now you have Herbology homework to complete for Thursday, Potter and Black, because judging by your empty parchment, you've failed to take in a single word I've said to you today."
Professor Sprout had appeared behind the pair. "Now I asked you to raise your sample of knot grass in the appropriate conditions to be used in Polyjuice Potion. If you had been paying attention you would have known this. I expect immaculate results and then perhaps I will not have to inform your Head of House of your inattentiveness."
"Yes, Professor," the pair conceded shamefacedly.
Remus continued to be absent, from lunch, their last two classes and then dinner. James and Peter sat in a corner of the common room looking out of one of the tower's windows into the early October night with Peter's telescope as they hurriedly filled out their star charts for tomorrow. Sirius lazed nearby flicking though a library copy of Advanced Potion Making in an attempt to find out more about the uses on knotgrass in Polyjuice Potion.
"I just don't understand why he didn't tell me if he had to go somewhere," muttered Peter out of nowhere. James looked up at him. The smaller boy was rubbing his nose and looking morosely at his star chart. "I mean, I thought we were friends."
"I wouldn't worry on it too much, Peter. I mean, you've only known each other for a month. Maybe it's a family emergency, or something private. Remus is a quiet guy."
Peter didn't answer. James had the distinct impression that he hadn't solved Peter's worries – but he had no other solution so he allowed the other boy to finish his star chart in silence. Just as he was putting the finishing touch to his own, Marline McKinnon appeared at their table.
"Hello?" James wondered if this would have anything to do with Sirius' spat with Lily in Herbology but apparently Remus' unexplained absence hadn't gone unnoticed with the other Gryffindor first-years either.
"Do you know anything about where Remus has gone?" she asked, nodding at Sirius, who had popped up from behind his potions book.
"We've no idea."
Marline sat on the arm of the squashy chair Sirius had commandeered. "Apparently he told Lily that his mother is ill and he had to go and visit her."
Peter raised his eyebrows in worry. "Really? Gosh, I wonder if that was what his dad wanted to talk to him about yesterday… But he seemed cheerful after…" He worried his lip with his top teeth, apparently thinking back to yesterday.
"I had just thought that you three would have known more about it, since you guys go everywhere together. Lily was really worried."
Sirius sat up proper in his chair and closed his book. "Well Peter sees him the most after Evans, I suppose, so if they don't know anything, we certainly don't. Whatever it is, it looked serious though – his father was here yesterday."
James thought back to yesterday, new information in mind. He hadn't thought that Remus had seemed upset yesterday, but perhaps he was glad to be visiting home? Remus, he thought, was a quiet person and James wouldn't put it past him to try to hide anything amiss about his family. He scanned the common room for Lily Evans and found her sitting with Dorcas and playing with the other girl's cat. Why was it that Remus had told Evans what was going on? James had seen the two together, certainly – they sat together in some lessons and Remus was neutral to the rivalry between Snape and himself and Sirius. Despite this, it still miffed him that he would confide in her over Peter, or him and Sirius.
"I hope she's alright, but if he didn't seem upset, I suppose everything must be fine…"
James helped himself to Peter's telescope and occupied himself with the sky outside, despite having finished his chart. He smirked as he spotted Canis Major and Orion off to the East.
"Look how cool the moon looks tonight," he commented, unknowingly interrupting Marline's babbling about not being about to find a passage which directly stated how to grow knotgrass for Polyjuice Potion in their Herbology or Potions textbooks.
James took the eyepiece away from his face and looked down onto the moonlit grounds. Reflections of the high windows dotted the otherwise blank expanse of grass. If he squinted into the black edges of the Forest, he could see the gamekeeper's hut and even the Whomping Willow, shifting as it was disturbed, down by the boathouse.
He didn't know if it was a trick of the flickering lights, but he also thought he saw a stocky figure open the great doors to the Entrance Hall and momentarily cast a strip of dim orange across the grounds.
Notes:
It's been a while, huh? This chapter isn't beta read either – as chapter two hasn't been picked up yet. I did have to go back to change Sirius' first impression of Remus as I did have him state that he hadn't heard the name before. So if you noticed the discontinuity, don't worry, so did I.
The planning notes for this fic are starting to become ridiculously expansive.
I'm still running the Tumblr for this fic at marauders1971-1978 which has some much improved illustrations on it now, as I've got the hang of my digital drawing software.
I feel like not much happened here, but it was getting pretty long so you can look forward to meeting up with Remus again (and meeting Severus for the first time!) next chapter, which will be following Lily.
Thanks for reading and see you next chapter!
~BS
Chapter 4: 6th October 1971
Summary:
Lily and Severus spend a day of lessons together. Lily meets the Slytherin prefect, Lucius and finds out about her own blood-status.
Petunia gets a letter.
Chapter Text
6th October 1971
It was a bright, but cold Wednesday morning which saw Lily Evans making her way down to the dungeons to meet Severus Snape before breakfast began. As the descended Hogwarts’ many staircases, students from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw diverted away – some on the first floor, probably on their way to the library to finish some homework at the last minute and most on the ground floor for an early breakfast. By the time she’d passed the potions’ classrooms and the temperature had dropped to uncomfortable levels, she was the only student in sight without the distinctive green tie.
It was a pity, she thought, that students were sorted at all. All it did was pit them against each other. This was more that the friendly houses they had been sorted into in her muggle first school so they could compete against each other in sports day events and easily filed into the hall for lunch. Though the history of the founders was interesting (she’d discovered a chapter on their relationships and the early running on the school in Hogwarts, A History) all it achieved was to give a historical backing for unnecessary rivalry. She supposed it was nice to have a pre-selected set of students to make connections with, but what if they didn’t get along? Severus has often recounted how noble his house was before he was even sorted into it, but in the past few weeks, it seemed to Lily that he simply wasn’t making friends.
Lily knew her friend was unusual – after all her school friends back in Cokeworth had been nothing like him – but she had put most of this down to him being a wizard and supposed that she would run into more people like him at Hogwarts. Now that she was here, however, she found that many of her house members were more like her old classmates in the muggle world than she had expected. The student that she had found most similar to Severus was probably Sirius Black in the way that he was often quiet and pensive, but making the same seemingly random, tactless outbursts that Severus had when they’d first met. She supposed it had more to do with how they were brought up than it did that they were both wizards – though Severus would probably stop speaking to her for a week if she voiced to him that they were similar.
She could see why, though. Since before the train had even pulled up at Hogwarts, it seemed that those four had it on for Severus the same way that her sister did.
They just can’t be bothered to get to know him, she thought, stopping before the Slytherin portrait. Just because he’s different to them and looks a bit shabby.
The portrait swung forwards and out came Severus, accompanied by Evan Rosier and William Wilkes.
“Evans,” they acknowledged neutrally, before making their way down the dim corridor towards the stairs. She and Severus followed them at a slower pace.
“Binns first,” Severus commented dully, looking down at his timetable. “What could be worse? I can think of about twelve things I’d rather be doing than sitting in that room for an hour learning nothing.”
“We can compare notes on the defence homework though.” Said Lily. “Remus said he’d help me with it, but…” She trailed off. “He said he was going to visit his mother. He’s been away a few days now.”
“Doesn’t look like he’s around this morning either.” Severus commented, nodding towards the Gryffindor table. Lily could see James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter wolfing down breakfast, without Remus. “Pity his housemates are though.”
“Those two really are a couple of twits. I just don’t understand why Remus bothers with them.” Lily sighed and sat down next to Severus at the Slytherin table. “They’re just as insufferable out of lessons as well, would you believe it. I’m sure I’ve heard them in the common room at stupid times in the night, coming in and out of the portrait hole.”
Severus took his hard gaze off the back of James’ head to look up the Gryffindor table. “Who’s your prefect? You could tell them. Or I’ll tell Malfoy. You know he’d love to catch some little Gryffindors breaking rules.”
Lily looked scandalised. “You can’t tell Malfoy! He’ll take points from us for sure! I don’t want the whole house to get into trouble because they’re a pair of inconsiderate twits.”
Severus returned to his breakfast with a shrug and a smirk. “It was worth a try.”
Lily scowled at the side of his head. She hoped Severus didn’t hate James Potter so much that he really did tell Lucius. “Don’t be sneaky, Sev.” She scolded.
Lily felt a sudden hand on the top of her head and jumped. Looking up she found the Slytherin prefect, Lucius Malfoy, looking down at her.
“Evans, would you please sit where you belong before Professor Slughorn finds you? Don’t you two see enough of each other in the library? If I recall correctly, the two of you were in there for hours last night. Are you joined at the hip?”
“Please, Lucius, we were just finishing.” Severus piped up.
“Yes, you say that, but it’s every mealtime, Snape. And if it’s not happing over here it’s happening over there-” he nodded towards the Gryffindor table. “You make the place look untidy. Just sit with your house when you’re supposed to. You’re here for seven years and you need to make connections. That’s why the houses exist in the first place.”
Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve already made a connection,” he replied, somewhat cheekily. “What’s wrong with her.”
Lucius glanced at Lily then fixed Lily with a hard stare, all friendliness forgotten. “Don’t get me started, you don’t want to hear it. Look, what you do and who you consort with in your free time is none of my business, Snape, but don’t come to me with this attitude as though you’ve any social standing and don’t expect me to do anything more than professionally tolerate your riffraff friends. Evans, move yourself.” He gave the pair one last, disparaging look and stalked back off up the table to sit with the other NEWT students.
Lily scowled after him, but dutifully collected her things. “What’s his problem?” She asked Severus, attempting to brush off the altercation. “Did a Gryffindor piss in his tea once or…?”
Severus didn’t bother to humour her. He stood up abruptly and tugged on her robes to bring her with him. As they reached the doors, Lily turned around and caught three people watching her. Lucius and the girl with long blonde hair sitting next to him and then, at the Gryffindor table, James Potter with an almost amusing combination of annoyance and curiosity on his face that reminded her of a confused dog. She snorted and followed after Severus.
Severus set a quick pace up the stairs to History of Magic and Lily could tell from the stony look on his face that he was far more annoyed than she was. As expected, the class was dull and so they took the opportunity to compare the Latin roots they had been given for their next class. Occasionally the boredom was interrupted by a small thunks. It seemed that Sirius was trying to teach James a charm under the table but whatever it was, he wasn’t very good at it and objects like chalk halves kept randomly flying towards him and then dropping in mid-air.
Despite that it began with a lesson as dull as History of Magic, Wednesday was Lily’s favourite day. Except from Transfiguration in the evening, Gryffindor was paired with Slytherin for lessons all day that day and it was the most she got to see of Severus, except for weekends. She thought they made rather a good pair in Defence and Potions and was sure that her results at the end of year exams would show it.
They were making their way to double potions after lunch in the afternoon when Severus finally blurted out what had been bothering him all morning.
“It’s not that you’re a Gryffindor,” he blurted over her, coming to a stop in the middle of a corridor so abruptly that Lily almost walked into him. A group of Hufflepuff sixth years making their way to the transfiguration courtyard grumbled at the pair when they almost tripped over them.
“Wha-”
“Lucius, you know. It’s not that you’re in Gryffindor. His problem, I mean.”
Severus pulled them out of the way into an alcove that housed a torch bracket and painting of a frilly looking witch tending to a baby dragon sitting in a caldron in her fire.
“About this morning? It’s not that big of a deal Sev. Some of the prefects are just like that. That Ravenclaw one that always kicks people out of the library for spilling ink-”
“No but it is important.” Severus interrupted her again and Lily raised her eyebrows at him. “Sorry, but just… just listen, alright? I guess the talk that goes on in your common room isn’t the same as in mine, but I’ve been hearing some odd things from the older students – they stay in there quite late and they don’t even notice I’m there if I sit in the corner. They’re talking about what they’re going to do once they get out of school and, well…” Severus looked up at the stone archway. He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Have you heard of Voldemort?” he asked.
Lily raised her eyebrows. “No. What’s that? It sounds like an OWL level potion.”
“No, it’s a person. I hadn’t even heard of him until I can here, but I heard his kind of ideas before. I used to see it in the wizarding newspaper but my mother used to scoff at it. I mean, she married a muggle, I suppose. No matter how much they seem to hate each other…”
Lily gave a frustrated huff. She was so tired of everything in this place being about ‘blood status’ as Severus called it. “Is this more of the rubbish that Potter and Black were spouting back in the first week? Because if it is-”
“No.” Severus interrupted her again. “That was just Potter and Black being arrogant as usual. He wouldn’t dare. Anyway, his family aren’t part of the Scared 28 so maybe they have some impurities far down the line." When he saw that Lily was about the start asking questions he hurried on. “Never mind the Sacred 28 for now. This stuff sounds serious, it’s not their idea. They’re following in the newspapers and radio broadcasts about this Voldemort and it looks to be similar kind of ideas behind Grindlewald.”
Lily had a vague idea about the rise and reign of Grindlewald during the 1940s in central Europe and his defeat at the hands of Albus Dumbledore, but only what Severus had told her during those endless days they had spent before Hogwarts talking about the hidden world. She supposed he must have learned what little he knew from his mother as, compared to the wizarding children she had met since starting Hogwarts, Severus’ childhood seemed somewhat isolated from the wider wizarding world.
“Look, I don’t really get it myself, but the things they say are scary and I think that’s what Lucius meant this morning. He really doesn’t like being questioned.”
Lily remained unconvinced. Almost every morning, Lucius would wearily instruct her back to her house table, or stride down to the Gryffindor table to collect Severus with an almost fatherly fashion. True, the Slytherin prefect had never been nice to Lily, but she felt that he had never been unfair or rude to her. Until this morning.
Apparently, Severus could tell she was unconvinced, because he raised his eyebrows. “You must have noticed, because I know I have, the purebloods – they really aren’t the same as the rest of us. They just act differently. You wouldn’t believe the way Lucius speaks in the common room when you see him patrolling the corridors. It’s amazing really. I’d give a lot to be able to become another person like that.”
Instead of answering him, Lily checked her watch.
“Come on, Sev, we’re late for potions.”
She merged with a group of Slytherins coming from lunch and hurrying for the dungeons. She could hear Severus following after her.
The truth was, Lily didn’t want to hear about it. She had spent the better part of the last two years wiling away the hours in parks and by the lake with Severus while he opened her eyes to this new and magnificent world that she had agreed to step into. She had all but sacrificed the friendly sisterhood she had with Petunia for this, had decided against the high school her parents had chosen for her and had moved far away from home, without the comfort of a telephone call and to be honest, she was disappointed by how it was shaping up. She was growing very tired of hearing about this pureblood nonsense. It was all very boring and stuffy and seemed to sit in front of far more interesting things – such as her apparent innate ability to levitate objects with a stick of wood.
I’m not really upset she realised, holding the dungeon door for Severus and apologising to Professor Slughorn for their tardiness, I’m just not interested. It’s getting in the way of all the magic.
She took a free seat at a place for two and smiled at Severus as he sat down next to her, just to make sure that he knew she wasn’t mad.
“Let’s just be the same as we always were,” she insisted. Severus gave her his awkward smile in agreement.
~*~
“Remus!”
Curiosity had Lily and Severus snap their heads up. Just as they were getting ready to leave double potions, Remus Lupin had slipped into the door. Apparently, Peter Pettigrew had noticed him and shouted out as he was now sitting with a hand over his mouth and an embarrassed flush on his face.
Professor Slughorn looked up from the students’ potion vials on his desk at the outburst and smiled warmly at Remus.
“Ah mister Lupin!” He stepped around the desk with some difficult caused by his enormous stomach. “Yes, Professor McGonagall warned me that you might miss the lesson today. Though I am most surprised that you came to collect work that you could have easily escaped from!”
Lily watched as Remus shyly fidgeted with the strap of his satchel. “Yes well… I didn’t want to fall behind, Sir.” His voice was unusually soft and he avoided his classmates’ eyes, though Lily knew he must feel her and everyone else’s curious stares.
Slughorn beckoned him forward to the front desk to show him the work that had been covered in his absence. As he did, Severus elbowed her in the ribs.
“Lupin is limping,” he whispered to her behind his long hair. It was true. Lily watched carefully as he joined Slughorn behind the teacher’s table and she could see that he was favouring his right foot.
“Maybe he caught his leg in a trick stair,” she suggested. In truth, she was worried about him. He looked tired, skittish and rather grey – she thought his eyes seemed glassy as though he’d been crying and hoped that his mother was alright. Perhaps he just didn’t want to come back after being at home, she reasoned and managed to comfort herself a little with the possibility. She couldn’t imagine being away from home if one of her parents were ill. She found it bad enough without the added anxiety.
~*~
Lily gave Severus a brief hug as they parted for their last lesson though she was noticeably distracted by Lupin, a fact which had Severus scowling. She eyed the sandy haired boy all through transfiguration, frowning as she saw his timid interactions with the pair of morons Potter and Black. Instead of the note-taking that the rest of the class was participating in, she pulled out a muggle ballpoint pen from the depths of her bag and began to draft a letter to her sister. It really didn’t do well to carry on this animosity. She did not underestimate Petunia’s ability to hold a grudge for three months for one moment – especially not in a case such as this where she was justifiably bitter. She put her pen to the parchment and began.
~*~
Dear Tuney
Would you believe that I am writing this in the middle of a lesson? Please don’t tell mum you know she’d go spare. I just really wanted to talk to you right this moment, but since there aren’t any phones at Hogwarts, this is the next best thing isn’t it?
I’m really missing you and sometimes I wish I were at home still. Tell me about the big school. You’re always so short in the letters I get from mum and dad. What are the other kids like? Are there many from our old primary there or is it like starting over again? That’s a bit what it’s like here. Of course, I have Sev, but he wasn’t put into the same house as me – his is called Slytherin – and we only have a few lessons together. I know you don’t want to hear about Sev though.
I’ll tell you about the people in my house. I think you’d like them. With me in the girls’ dormitory is this girl, Dorcas. She’s got a pet cat and you know that mum and dad wouldn’t let me have one. I can see why, I suppose. It gets up to all kinds of mischief and wrecks the tapestries and the chairs and the prefect has to go around fixing everything. There’s also Mary and Marline. I think their family are magic already though and they know what they’re doing in a way I just don’t yet.
Oh and in the boys’ dorm there are four of them. One is really nice; this boy called Remus. He’s a bit quiet and you would probably like him he doesn’t ever get into any trouble. He’s friends with Peter, who’s not so bad but I don’t think the two of you would like each other – he’s a bit nervous and sort of follows Remus around but he’s nice enough.
I wish you were here to tell off the other two though. They’re such pigs. Well, Sirius less so I suppose but over the month he’s definitely become more like the other boy – James. He’s totally obnoxious and is always losing points here and there for being clumsy and for not keeping his mouth shut and for laughing in classes. And he’s such a bully. He says the worst things to Severus and attacks him in the corridors. He really rubs me the wrong way and I reckon you could sort him out well enough!
I’m sure you’ll understand – I just wanted to talk to you a bit. I don’t really have anyone here yet who I really get along with – I left all my old friends at home with you. It’d make me so happy if you wrote back but I get it if you’re still mad.
Lots of love,
Lily.
~*~
Petunia left her bedroom window open but the dusty looking barn owl just stared at her obstinately, refusing to leave. It perched on the headboard of her bed at stared at her as though it were waiting for her.
“Oh alright then,” she whispered for fear of waking her parents in the next room. She wiped her tears aggressively with the back of her hand and shuffled through her desk draws for some black paper on which to write a reply.
This chapter gave me so much trouble! I think it was just too early to bring out Lily as I hadn’t properly established anything with her yet – it should have been Remus or Severus I suppose. But I’d promised Lily last chapter so… Haha!
Anyway, thank you for reading it – I’d love to hear what you think. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn’t take so long.
~BS
Chapter 5: 8th Oct 1971
Summary:
Petunia meets with an old friend and Remus agrees to help the St Mungo's research department
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
8th October 1971
“Hey, how’s your little sister?”
Petunia didn’t register the question directed at her until she felt a tug on the strap of her bag. Behind her was a boy in her year she knew – his name was Ben - holding onto her and smiling benignly. Petunia got on with him fairly well, but he had always been Lily’s friend despite being older than her. Though feeling unwilling to delve into this conversation with anyone, she didn’t really want to brush him off.
“Oh, she’s okay.” Petunia didn’t quite want to look into his eyes so she focused on his eyebrows with some difficulty as they were so blond they almost weren’t there at all. “I suppose you were expecting her to come in with the new kids?”
Around them the crowd of pre-pubescents slowly thinned as they were reunited with their parents or had collected their friends and bikes to travel home with. It was a pleasant evening with crisp autumn leaves and piercing afternoon sun and Petunia was feeling somewhat bitter that she had considered having fun by the river with Lily during her last lesson only to remember that she was miles away over the border in Scotland.
“Yeh, I was sort of excited to get to see her again but I haven’t seen her since the year started. You always leave off for home so early – I haven’t had a chance to catch you.”
“It’s because you dawdle,” Petunia accused, not acknowledging his words and watching the light wind lift his fine white hair out of order. Oh course, he smiled.
“Yeh, that’s what me mam says.” He glanced around at the almost empty street their school sat on and bent down to lift his old bike from the ground. Petunia remembered when he got it from his older brother. He was a mechanic now. He started to walk his bike and Petunia was forced to follow. The steady clicking it made echoed off the crumbling brick of the empty residential back alleys.
“So where is she then? She’s not sick or something is she? I don’t even see her by the lake anymore. Or on the heap.”
“Of course you haven’t seen her on the heap. We’re not allowed on the heap.” Petunia almost let the wicked excitement of ratting out a sibling for misbehaving bubble up inside her before she remembered that her family just didn’t have that dynamic anymore. She was suddenly an almost only child. As if her sibling had died and everyone was pining. He didn’t get it obviously. He was laughing good-naturedly and it ruffled Petunia that he had shared something secret and exciting with Lily that she hadn’t. She let his laughter die awkwardly as a punishment and they were forced to walk in silence. The clicked their way out of the alleys behind the blocks of houses and out into the wider roads, past the grassed over coal heap and the dilapidated pit head winding gear that they had been prohibited from climbing.
“She went to boarding school in Scotland.”
The clicking stopped and Petunia turned around to see him giving her a humoured, incredulous look.
“Boarding school?” His thin lip was curled and his invisible eyebrows knitted in complete incomprehension and Petunia almost laughed. “In Scotland?”
“That’s what I said.”
“But…” Petunia suddenly felt bad. Mistakenly, she’d looked into his wide grey eyes and seen the hurt and disappointment. “She didn’t even say ‘bye to me. When’s she coming back?”
“She’ll be back at Christmas.”
The wind picked up and lifted their hair. Petunia shivered. It had been mild that morning and she hadn’t bothered to bring her jacket. She pulled her jumper sleeves down over her cold knuckles and gave her classmate a pitying look. She liked Ben – even though he was like that horrid greasy Sev and came from the rougher end of her town. She’d been to his house before after school with Lily. It was smaller than theirs and attached on both sides – she remembered that their fence had been bowed in at the end of the back garden and needed re-posting. His family was nice though. His older brother used to let them sit on his skateboards and freefall down the sloping road their house sat on. They hadn’t seen much of each other over this summer. Lily had spent so much time with Severus talking about magic and Petunia had spent time with the girls from the high school. After all, she was grown up now and couldn’t keep playing in fields and rusty parks with her baby sister.
Ben sighed and swung his leg over his bike. “If I come to yours will you give me the address so I can write to her or something?” Petunia agreed and he drifted lazily around her, just slowly enough so as not to lose his balance.
“Doesn’t your mum want you straight home?”
She caught him roll his eyes as he replied. “Me mam won’t mind. Don’t you worry about me getting into trouble.” Petunia puffed indignantly.
“I wasn’t the slightest worried about you.”
“Yeh, alright.”
Ben agreed to wait at the door while Petunia flew up the stairs and snatched up the half-finished reply she had scribbled to Lily. On a separate piece of paper, she copied down the address. Her bag thumped as is hit the bed when she threw it down and she grabbed her jacket on the way down the stairs.
“Mum, is it okay if I play out for a bit!?” She towards the kitchen as she headed towards the door.
“Welcome home,” she heard her mother say sarcastically. The door to the kitchen opened and Mrs Evans caught sight of Ben waiting at the open front door holding his bike and school bag, her daughter behind the threshold with her brown curls in disarray from the wind, her jacket skew-whiff.
“Hello Ben, I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Hi Mrs Evans,” he replied politely.
“So can I?” Petunia asked again, smiling persuasively. Mrs Evans laughed. It had been quite a while since Petunia had given any hint benign mischievousness that her and Lily used to get up to. For a good year she had been rather bitter and at times malicious.
“Be back by six, okay?”
Ben cheered cheekily as Petunia threw her an appreciative smile. She took the shed keys off the hook by the front door and began to close it behind her.
“You stay off that heap!” she warned just before the door clicked shut.
~*~
Dear Lily,
I won’t tell mum you were slacking in lessons – but aren’t they very exciting since they’re magic and all that?
Your classmates sound nice. Why do you think I would like Remus so much? Or is it just because he does what he’s told? I’m not some teacher’s pet, you know. Mum’s always saying you shouldn’t cheek your older sister.
That brat James sounds like he needs pushing in the river. I hope your mate Severus isn’t letting him bully you or I’ll be having words. Don’t let them rub off on you. I don’t want you to come home at Christmas a different person.
I’m not going to say sorry for ignoring you because Severus really was a piece of work and I just don’t understand how you could take his side on that but I can’t stay mad at you for so long. You can tell Severus to send me a letter to apologise if he decides he’s going to re-invent himself as a decent human being.
Benjamin was asking after you today. I told him you went to boarding school in Scotland and he was really upset that you didn’t say goodbye. I gave him your address so I expect he’ll write to you. I don’t know what you’re going to tell him about the school, but he really wants to see you at Christmas. You know he gets along with you in a way he just doesn’t with the boys in my year.
He did tell me a secret though. That you went up the heap to the wheel. I won’t tell on you though because I made him take me up there after school on the bikes. You couldn’t get me to climb that thing for love nor money though. It looks alright from the street but standing underneath it I swear it was touching the sky.
The big school is same as always, though now your year’s come in I’m not a little one anymore which is nice. It’s a bit weird seeing your friends and not seeing you though - sometimes I forget you’re away and think things are like last year and I’ll meet you after school. I have to pack my things so quickly and leave early so no one catches me to ask where you are because I don’t know what I would say to them.
Love from Pet.
~*~
Hi Lily,
I didnt believe Petunia when she said youd gone to boarding school but she actually gave me the address so I suppose she must be telling the truth. I cant believe you didnt say goodbye to me. I was looking for you this whole month at school cos I didnt even know you were gone.
The address Petunia gave me was a bit weird. What kind of name for a school is Hogwarts? I cant believe youre all the way in Scotland which is pretty much like being in another country. Do you get to visit anywhere or do you just have to be in school all the time? Is it like the Malory Towers books you and Petunia used to read?
Why are you even there anyway? Why not just come to the big school here? Is it a special school like for really clever kids or what? And how come your parents didnt send Petunia? I just dont get it.
Do you have any friends there?
I really hope I see you at Christmas. It was nice that your sister wanted to play out with me today (she wanted to go to the heap!?) but my old mate Billy (you remember him cos he once stole your pencil) moved away to Leeds and now I kind of have friends but I dont have any really good friends. Not near where I live anyway.
Speaking of, I havent seen that boy that you used to hang around with. You know the one Petunia doesnt like? I cant remember his name it was like Slivius or something weird. But anyway he hasnt been around in ages and usually I see him all the time cos he sort of wanders in the estate but his parents had a massive fight the other day and it must have been outside in the street cos I could hear them from my bedroom window. Dunno what it was about though.
Anyway I miss you loads (even though you didnt say bye to me) and if this isnt a pretend address your sister gave me then please write back I would like to still be friends even though were far away.
Benny.
~*~
10th October 1971
Remus watched several Official Post Office owls land in front of Lily at the breakfast table – their red and yellow band around the ankle was quite distinctive. She took the three letters – one from each owl – before they flew off without waiting for a reply just as the school owls did.
“Say, Lily – how come you’re getting mail from the Post Office? Why not use the school owls?”
Lily smiled up at him – obviously her mail had cheered her up immensely. “I sent off with a school owl, but my sister took so long to reply that she had to post it the muggle way.”
“I suppose letters with wizarding address must be redirected to another branch,” Remus mused, but Lily didn’t seem very interested. She had torn open one of the letters and was reading it in the way a person tries to both savour and scoff their favourite food.
“Are you lot coming to History of Magic?” James had appeared behind Remus, Lily, Dorcas and Peter with half a bacon sandwich in his hand. Remus could see Sirius standing by the Slytherin table talking to an older student with long black hair. Peter jumped up, nodding, while Lily stuffed her collection of letters into her bag for later as Dorcas made to join James. At the other boy’s expectant look, Remus held out a slip of paper, remaining seated. James read it aloud.
“If you would be so kind as to meet me at quarter past nine on Wednesday morning we can discuss your first month upon request of your father who has written to me with some questions which cannot be answered without a direct meeting with you. Apologies for causing you to miss your first lesson this morning. Professor Binns has been warned of your absence.
Professor McGonagall.”
“You jammy bastard,” James complained. “Getting to miss Binns. What does your dad want to know? Nothing about getting into trouble? McGonagall doesn’t usually meet with students except for a good telling off.”
Remus smiled vaguely. “Oh I doubt it. Probably just my dad being overly paranoid about me as always. And she did want to ask me if I caught up alright after missing a few lessons last week.”
James pouted at the thought of having to sit through an hour of magical history while his class mate got to sit out and wasn’t even going to get into trouble. “I’ll pick up a copy of any homework for you,” James promised with a sly smile and turned to meet the Gryffindors in the entrance hall. “See you later!”
Remus sat at the Gryffindor table as it emptied around him. At the staff table, everybody but the headmaster and the groundskeeper had left already and a Ravenclaw prefect was dragging a few second years away from their breakfast lest they be late.
He really hoped his father hadn’t turned up at the school again. It had been nice to have him around on the day but if he kept showing up Remus was worried one of him classmates would spot him and that would just be more difficult questions to answer. As much as Remus wanted to keep his secret tightly sealed, it hurt him to have to make up elaborate lies. Not only was he a poor liar, but these people were already like friends to him – something he’d never experienced before. He didn’t want to push them away.
Remus had rarely seen the corridors as deserted as they were five minutes into first lesson. His footsteps echoed around the wide corridors and birds had settled in the transfiguration courtyard once they were safe from the trampling feet of hundreds of students.
McGonagall was waiting for him outside of her office. She gave him a rare smile in greeting and opened the door for him to step inside. Remis had never been inside Professor McGonagall’s office before but he supposed it looked exactly how he should have expected. There was a sturdy, plain oak desk in the centre of the room with two cold looking chairs in front of it and one not much more inviting behind it. On the back wall was an impressive bookshelf of which the bottom shelf was mainly magazines of varying age. A high, tall window looked out onto the transfiguration courtyard and another small table underneath held up several small group photographs of what looked like old quidditch teams and staff photos. One showed a group of older students and there were several quidditch trophies in an alcove near the door. The fire in the grate was merely embers.
“Sit down, Lupin. I don’t want to keep you long.”
Remus sat on the opposite side of the desk to her and tucked his hands under his thighs. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong but still he felt a little nervousness at the setting.
McGonagall pulled open a draw in her desk and set a letter onto the desk. “Your father sent this to me – it reached me a couple of days ago. He wanted to know how it all went. I was surprised he was going to me for information.” She gave him a questioning look and Remus felt the same squirming in his stomach that came every time he tried to start the letter for his mother and father updating them on the 4th of October.
“I just… didn’t know what to say to him Professor. I mean… I didn’t escape so what else is there to say?”
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Well I think he wanted to know if you were happy with the arrangement once it had played out in reality and the headmaster and I were wondering the same.”
Remus pondered this. Of course, he hadn’t enjoyed the experience. He never did. It was painful and embarrassing, vile and dehumanising. As always, he had spotty memories of the night itself. He remembered the overwhelming stillness and silence of the abandoned cottage, and the smell of damp plaster and long dead mice – but few thoughts more sophisticated than overwhelming frustration at his inability to satisfy the huge urge to escape and attack had crossed his mind.
But in reality, it hadn’t been as awful as usual. At home, first in his barricaded bedroom, then in the kitchen, the basement and even the stone outhouse depending of whatever new town they were in that year were like a cage. This had been a completely new environment. In fact, he distinctly remembered being distracted from his urges by the unusual freedom. Never, at the full moon had he experienced the freedom to climb the stairs and go into other rooms, to nose into cupboards and crawl under beds. It had occupied a more human part of his mind for a few minutes at anyone time. That human curiosity.
“It wasn’t so bad actually. I think he quite liked it at times.”
“He?”
“Yeah…” Remus looked at his feet. His shoelaces are coming undone. “Well I feel like we’re not really the same person. We don’t really think the same way. I would never behave like that… Except that I do. When I’m him.” Remus directed his answer at his lap and trailed away into nothingness. He had comforted himself since this all started once he decided that the person he became at the full moon wasn’t really him. After he’d been bitten, he had hated the man who had done it – why couldn’t he have just controlled himself? Why did he have to come after a child like him? After he had experienced the full moon for himself and realised the insatiable need to bite any human within the vicinity be they a stranger or his own mother, he had felt sympathy. Never would the thought cross his mind to hurt his own mother and father before. Never had they needed to lock their son away from them, never had he been so violent.
And so he had thought If I turn into this monster every month that I can’t control, how can I blame the man who did this to me? Actually, I feel sorry for him. Probably he doesn’t have a family to keep him safe.
“I’m very grateful,” Remus said quietly. “That you can do this for me.”
“Yes, I believe you mentioned a few times,” McGonagall said wryly. “I hope you aren’t going to feel the need to personally thank me every month for the next seven years Lupin.”
They sat in a silence that felt awkward to Remus but the professor didn’t seem phased as she pulled out a small stack of papers bound together by string. “These are your records from Madame Pomfrey. I heard that you managed to avoid any serious injury this time.”
“Yes, but I did ruin some of the furniture.”
McGonagall smiled. “Yes well, the furniture is replaceable. Madame Pomfrey has opened up a correspondence with the research team at St Mungo’s who are currently looking into remedies for magical animal bites. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there are many magical creatures which do irreversible damage. Your father had explained to me that he had been unable to look into any of this research for fear of having uncomfortable questions directed at him. Luckily, Hogwarts does have the means to collaborate on these matters both for the benefit of yourself and any students in a similar situation, but also for the intellectual curiosity of its staff. Professor Slughorn in particular is very interested in this vein of medicine. As is the headmaster himself. Now your mother and father have given the school permission to use our own discretion when it comes to trialling various medications – at your agreement of course.”
Remus looked blankly at her. He had no idea there was anything that could be done to help him and allowed himself to feel a hint of hope. He knew, of course, that there was no cure for lycanthropy but if there was something that could just make it easier or even erase the ugly scars he was left with…
“Yes, I would like trial some things, maybe.”
“In that case, I expect Madame Pomfrey will be in touch with you over the next few weeks. Now the other matter was merely logistics. Obviously the staff knew you were excused, the headmaster told them you were ill, but this is in no way a steadfast excuse. If a member of staff were to visit the hospital wing and find you absent they could easily become curious. Not to mention that the link between you being ‘ill’ and the date will eventually arouse some suspicion in a few of our staff.”
“My dad told me to tell my friends that my mother was ill and that I was going to visit her.” Remus mumbled, not meeting her eyes. He didn’t like this particular story. “He said it was a good idea because they weren’t likely to have meet my mum because she’s a muggle.”
“That could work among the staff,” McGonagall conceded. It would be better for everyone to be using the same story. Your father did mention to me that you were uncomfortable with misleading your classmates but rest assured neither me, the headmaster nor your family are holding you accountable for the circumstances and should you wish to tell you friends you may, of course do so. Though your father advised very strongly against it.”
Remus just nodded. He knew this already of course. He’d received a heavy debriefing on the 31st of August. The very idea that he would tell the other Gryffindors about his affliction was laughable.
McGonagall put the letter from Remus’ father back into her desk and leaned forward to address him in a friendlier manner.
“On another vein, how has your first month been at Hogwarts? Have you enjoyed your classes?”
“Very much so,” said Remus, truthfully. Though his mother and father had made every effort to teach him within their own home in the ways of the wizarding world and though he had experienced some patchy muggle schooling, Remus had never experienced anything quite like Hogwarts. And though he would never be quite the same as his classmates, he had never felt as though he belonged as he had this past month.
“I’m glad. I see you’ve made friends with Mr Pettigrew and Miss Evans. And your professors have only had positive things to say about your work, I’ve very pleased with your progress. There have been many students with fewer burdens to carry than you who have taken more difficulty in adjusting.”
“Thank you, Professor.” Remus could feel the blush creep up past his cheeks to his ears.
“Well Mr Lupin, twenty minutes remain of your History of Magic lesson so if you hurry you might be able to catch the end of it.” Professor McGonagall briskly rose and swept over to the door. She held it politely open for her student. Remus smiled gratefully at her before hurrying down the corridor towards the grand staircase.
~*~
Later that month, Remus found himself making his way to the hospital wing just before curfew as per the summons from Madame Pomfrey he’d found on his bedside table in a sealed envelope that morning. He’d agreed to trial a muggle sedative before Halloween holidays. If it worked, then Madame Pomfrey had agreed to use it during the full moon on the 2nd of November.
Remus was greeted warmly by the matron and two strangers who were introduced as healers from St Mungo’s research department. One, a young man with strawberry blonde hair and the other in perhaps is mid-fifties with salt-and-pepper facial hair. The older man was wearing a travelling cloak over his teal St Mungo’s uniform and the younger a garish orange jumper.
“Mr Lupin, this is Healer Briggs and his colleague Healer Devon.” Remus smiled shyly at the two professionals and mumbled a meek ‘good evening.’
The hospital wing was a wide, high ceilinged, L shaped room with Madame Pomfrey’s office and the supplies cupboard located out of sight of the main door around the corner. Taking advantage of the concealment from the main door, there were two beds with privacy screens only used for the most embarrassing of cases – usually botched de-pimplings – and this was where Remus had spent the morning of the 5th of October and where they were planning to allow the healers to trial muggle drugs on a werewolf for the first time. There was still a fortnight until the full moon but Remus was sure he could smell their excitement.
Behind the screen was a setup that Remus found a little frightening. There stool a metal table on top of which were two capped syringes and a small glass bottle of some white opaque liquid. He supposed this was the muggle drug.
Remus has never been to a wizarding or muggle hospital before and so didn’t know how much magic to expect. He had, of course, injured himself many a time – sometimes benignly as a result of jumping off adventurously high walls and other times as a result of his crippling need to bite into some kind of flesh when confined to his room during the full moon. Either way, his father had been able enough in basic magical medicine to stop his knees from bleeding and his mother sensible enough to clean out his self-inflicted wounds before they could ever become infected.
The older man, Briggs, began to unpack small plastic tubing from sealed bags and took out a muggle calculator.
“I hope you won’t mind if we do this the modern way. We are using muggle medicine after all. Could I please have your weight in kilogrammes?”
Madame Pomfrey instructed Remus to strip down to his underpants and vest and step onto a set of analogue scales she had just conjured so that Briggs could calculate the dosage. Meanwhile, Devon took out a set of paperwork headed with the St Mungo’s banner. He indicated Remus to sit next to him and summarised it briefly.
“Now I’ve already sent all of this through to your parents who have written back in consent conditional to your agreement. Your matron explained briefly in her letter summoning you didn’t she?”
Remus watched Briggs draw up the white liquid out the corner of his eye and shifted nervously on the hospital wing bed next to Devon. “Yes. Madame Pomfrey said it was a sedative which means it makes you go to sleep and that it is used on muggles before surgery and such.”
“That’s right. So far, no wizard has been able to cast a spell which holds on a werewolf during transformation. It is, of course, possible but very difficult, to stun a werewolf after it has transformed but unlike muggle medicines which are calibrated specifically to body weight and therefore allow quite an accurate estimate of the time it will take to wear off, stunning spells and similar can wear off at any moment depending on the magical strength of the subject. Not only that, it is particularly dangerous for a person to be in the room with a werewolf which could wake at any moment and have his wand arm for supper.”
Remus gave a small appreciative smile at Devon’s attempt at a joke. He noticed that the skin under his eyes looked somewhat bruised and Remus wondered vaguely if he had been sleeping at night.
“Now your weight doesn’t change when you transform and so we’re hoping the effect will last during transformation. The effects only last for little over half an hour so we’re afraid that we would have to continuously dose through the moonlight hours. There is an increased risk of side effects with repeated dosing though, so we’re merely going to test your tolerance to the drug today and note any side effects you may experience with the one dose.”
Remus suddenly didn’t like the sound of this. He’d imagined it would be somewhat like a dreamless sleep potion, which was simply drank and then a blissful sleep ensued where the length of time was determined by how much was consumed. This sounded a lot more… precarious.
“Muggles… use this all the time?” he asked tentatively.
Devon smiled reassuringly. “Oh yes it’s used on infants, children and adults. I’d be very surprised if something unexpected happened today. Really it’s November the second we’re unsure about.”
“Oh…” Remus watched Briggs come up by him with a small thin needle and felt rather reproachful. “Is it an injection?”
“Not quite. It’s given intravenously so this part is going to hurt unfortunately.”
Madame Pomfrey gave him an apologetic look as she took his left arm above and below the elbow in a firm grip. Remus resisted automatically before he caught himself.
“Sorry.”
“That’s quite alright Lupin.”
Briggs smiled pleasantly at him as he crouched down beside Madame Pomfrey but his expression didn’t do much to detract from the sharp object his is hands. He flicked the crook of Remus’ elbow with his fingers and slowly fed the thin needle under the thin skin of his arm. Remus gritted his teeth, watching with wide eyes, but managed to resist the urge to pull his arm away. Not that it would have been a successful attempt as the matron has an iron grip on his arm.
“There.” Briggs pulled and the fine metal needle slid out leaving the thin plastic tube resting in what Remus supposed was his vein. Sluggishly, dark crimson blood reached the end of the short tube before beading at the end and dripping down onto Remus’ forearm. He flinched. There was something different about having a foreign object sitting inside of him that turned his stomach the way the coppery taste of his own blood in his mouth at dawn didn’t anymore.
Briggs twisted a short clear tube to the end and to that attached a syringe full of some clear fluid.
“What’s that?” Remus noted that his voice sounded a little high and he swallowed aggressively.
“Just water. To flush the line. You’ll feel it go in but it won’t hurt.”
Remus watched as the blood seemed to disappear from the line. Briggs unscrewed the syringe and this time, nothing came out of the end.
Madame Pomfrey let go of him and he pulled his arm protectively towards himself, careful not to bend it.
“So, this is the drug we’ll be testing today.” Briggs held out the carefully measured syringe of milky liquid. “It might sting when it goes in. You should fall asleep within a few seconds and sleep for maybe half an hour before waking. When you wake, you will feel a bit dazed but this will wear off in an hour or so. Did you read and understand the list of side effects I sent to you?”
Remus nodded. “I looked them up in the library.”
“Good. We checked your mother’s medical history for any adverse reactions to similar substances but we couldn’t find anything alarming.”
“Um… okay.”
“You still agree for me to give this to you, bearing in mind that it has never been tested on a wizard suffering from lycanthropy in human or wolf state?”
Remus licked his lips and agreed.
Notes:
I can’t believe I wrote this out in one day, usually it takes me months to get one of these out. I really liked the whole thing about Remus’ lycanthropy being a parallel to HIV and so thought it might be interesting if he had agreed to some medical testing while at Hogwarts. Magical medicine wasn’t really made very clear in the original books but there must have been some human trials before they came up with the wolfsbane potion. I imagine Lyall would have been happy to try and find a cure.
I could have dreamed up some magical nonsense but I thought since I know the tiniest bit about anaesthetics because I spent like a week shadowing there I should write what I know. Also at least I knew what I was researching. Starting to look into historical uses for plants was work I just wasn’t into!
Also, I just love Petunia. How do you like Benny?
This chapter hasn’t been beta-read. I think I will have to resign myself that she is just too busy to carry one with this fic.
Thanks for reading! I’d love to read what you thought!
~BS
Chapter 6: 26th October 1971
Summary:
Remus and Sirius dance around Remus' disappearances
Chapter Text
26th October 1971
"Remus?"
The dormitory was still and dark. If it weren't for the weak moonlight outlining the frozen child against the window, Sirius would have dismissed the creaking.
"Yes?" Remus' guilty voice was barely audible, even in the deep quiet.
Sirius pulled back the curtain around his bed further, revealing himself to Remus. His eyes were misty and his voice was still thick with sleep. Remus relaxed slightly under his gaze and offered a tight-lipped smile.
"I'm going to finish Binn's homework before breakfast," Remus whispered. "I missed a lot of work already this month."
It was true. Remus' absence hadn't quite been talk of the tower, but his spotty attendance had been noticed and some gossip had broken out between the first years. His most recent disappearance had only added to the muttering. Sirius had tried to stay out of the gossip. His mother had an awful habit of bad-mouthing anyone and everyone her attention had been captured by that day, whether it be the Minister for Magic, Sirius' cousins or her own immediate family. It was an ugly trait, in his opinion, and though his friends' wondering about the whereabouts and safety of their classmate didn't have anywhere near the vitriol of his mother's ramblings, it still left an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.
But Remus was interesting to him. After the confirmation earlier in the month that he was the son of Lyall Lupin, Sirius has taken the opportunity to leaf through the old copies of the Daily Prophet catalogued in the Hogwarts Library to find the edition that had interested his mother so much. Luckily, it had made front page news.
POETIC JUSTICE?
Savage attack on Ministry Official by werewolf Fenryr Greyback, following Lupin's statement on werewolf classification, has been taken by many as a confirmation of their violent nature.
According to the article, there had been a werewolf attack involving Greyback following which the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had been called upon to revise the classification of werewolves to grant greater protection to the wizarding public. Greyback had evaded capture by claiming to live as a homeless muggle, and the lack of diligence in updating active werewolf records had allowed him to freely prey on wizards and muggles alike for several years. Following his initial quote at the scene of the attack where he stated that the dangerous creatures should be destroyed for public safety, he had seemingly composed himself and released an official statement from his department about proposed changes to the legislation which would be reviewed by the Wizengamot in the following weeks.
"The werewolf problem in the UK is beginning to spiral out of control. The number of unregistered werewolves in recent decades has resulted in an exponential growth of an unregulated and dangerous population, breeding and living on the fringes of society. Attacks on muggles have become increasingly difficult to explain away and pressure from the muggle Prime Minister is mounting.
In the coming year, the wizarding community will regain control of this blight. Known and suspected colonies will be raided and catalogued and charged for their crimes. Adult werewolves innocent of violent acts will be given the choice to join their packmates in Azkaban, or accept Ministry tracing. Finally, a mass sterilisation of the werewolf population will be implemented to curb the growth of the community.
It is cruel and morally unjust to subject an innocent child to the life of voilence, solitude and animalism of werewolf colonies as they exist in the UK at this time. For those offspring who have been forced into this existence, the Department has allocated funding towards research which may hope to provide some quality of life and safe integration in the future."
Sirius had read on to discover that an unspecified member of the Lupin family had been injured in the attack, confirmed by a leak in St Mungo's. Lupin had bravely retained his position at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Dangerous Creatures, but had refused to provide further comment on the nature of the attack and refused to confirm or deny suspicions that he had, in fact, been changed himself in an act of ironic justice. After the attack, Greyback escaped capture yet again.
He couldn't honestly say he knew enough about werewolves to agree or disagree with Lupin's opinions, but the article did throw Remus' excuse into a new light.
"My mother is ill."
Sirius knew that muggles could not become werewolves. Almost every muggle attack results in death. Either the wolf would mutilate the victim to death, or the irreparable nature of werewolf bites would cause the muggle to eventually succumb to their injuries or infection if they did manage to escape. A muggle with a wizard partner who may have been treated at St Mungo's, however...
"I'll come down with you."
Remus looked up from his trunk where he was switching out textbooks from his bag and nodded. In companionable silence, Sirius dressed himself while Remus combed his wavy hair in the bathroom mirror and watery Autumn sunlight began to stretch across the grounds.
~ * ~
"So, where were you yesterday evening? You didn't come into the dorm last night."
Sirius was absently glancing over the same history homework that Remus was carefully completing. It was only just turning 07:00 and Sirius felt like his head was full of cotton. He had no idea how Remus was able to read and write yet. On early mornings, Sirius thought jealously of James' ability to wake up completely, almost as soon as he cracked his eyes open.
Remus' quill stilled for a moment before he answered. "I was in the Hospital Wing."
Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You stayed there all night? Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Remus' voice was a little high and his shoulders were stiff. "It was after curfew, so Pomfrey said I could just stay. I'm fine."
Sirius wasn't an idiot. He could see that Remus was hiding something, but he did seem fine and, curious as he was, Sirius wasn't about to sneak a look at the Hospital Wing admission book to confirm the story. He stood by what he'd said to James. If Remus wanted to keep something private, then that was his own business. Sirius had plenty of things he didn't want his new friends to air to the rest of the school.
"Good."
Remus seemed to melt with relief when Sirius chose not to push him further.
"Are you nearly done? I'm never awake this early. It'd be nice to get sausages before they're all gone. "
Remus glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye and smiled down at his parchment as he added the final few annotations to his timeline.
Together they basked in James and Peter's jealousy when they finally joined the pair at breakfast, smugly eating the last of the sausages.
Notes:
It's a little stilted, I haven't written anything in like 2 years.
Forgive me, it's been years. I also lost the notebook that had all the notes I wrote for this fanfic and it had EVERYTHING, full moon dates, timetables, overlapping classes, character lists, EVERYTHING. I even had a full timeline with all the canon ages in it oh God it's all gone. So please forgive if things aren't as precise as they were before.
Also, I finished uni and became a nurse! Not that it'll help me to write this fic.
If you're read this, wow, thanks, it's been a while, love you lots
~BS
Chapter 7: 1st November 1971
Summary:
Sirius and James share a quiet moment at the lake, speculating on the Lupin werewolf attack. James has his first moment of introspection in his entire life.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
1st November 1971
“I think Remus’ mother is a werewolf.”
James choked.
They were huddled shoulder to shoulder under the invisibility cloak making their way down the moonlit steps to the boathouse. It would be one of the last few mild nights before the Scottish winter ruined their outdoor nighttime escapades, and so the boys had prepared a ‘Send-off to the Summer’ with pocket-fulls of thieved treats and the promise of a secret from Sirius.
James had not been expecting something so out-of-the-blue. He stopped on the stairs and looked up at his friend’s shadowy face. Despite them being under the cloak together, Sirius managed to avoid his gaze. His mouth was a hard line.
James wasn’t foolish enough to think that this was the kind of discussion he could attack with his usual carefree and blunt attitude. Sirius had been contemplative and withdrawn for a few days and had been notably avoiding the topic of Remus’ mysterious disappearances. James had assumed it was to do with his odd stance on keeping secrets, but it seemed he had been coming up with his own theories.
“Let’s get down to the boathouse. Then we can talk properly.”
James pretended not to notice Sirius’ nervous glance down at him before they resumed their descent, picking up the pace a little.
On this side of Hogwarts’ lake a student could be fooled into thinking they were alone in the world. But for the steep stone staircase, tiny old boathouse and brutally high castle wall, there was no hint of civilisation. Just a vast expanse of dark, still water. The night was breezeless. Across the water, James knew Hogsmede station wasn’t far, but it was invisible from where they sat. All that the far bank promised were mountainous, lonely highlands.
A small stone dock, sheltered from even the highest castle windows, gave them a place to safely step out from James’ cloak. He folded it roughly into a parcel and placed it on the ground for them to comfortably sit on while they emptied their pockets into their laps. They would have been an odd sight – pyjama-clad with their school jackets over the top for warmth, sitting on an invisible cushion looking out into the highlands.
“So, where’s this come from?” James didn’t look at his friend. Sirius, he’d learned, had a knack for avoiding eye-contact in difficult conversation – particularly when he was deep in thought. James knew that his intense attentiveness sometimes put him off broaching certain topics at all.
With a rustle, Sirius pulled a page of newspaper from his pyjama pocket and carefully unfolded it for James to see. He squinted in the dim light and read the headline and subheading aloud, before lighting his wand and skimming through the rest of the article muttering under his breath.
“That’s grim. Is this the article you said your mother kept?”
Sirius nodded. “This is from the school archives, but it’s the same article. Mother was enraged that he had seemed to soften his stance after the attack. She wrote him off as one of them, after that.”
James didn’t comment on Sirius’ mother’s attitude. He’d heard plenty of snippets over the last few months to have a read on her character and it wouldn’t do any good to get into that discussion again now.
“Realistically, it could have been either of them,” said James. “I mean, can a muggle even be a werewolf?”
“No.” Sirius shook his head and pocketed the page. “It can’t be Lyall. He would have lost his position. Werewolves aren’t considered human, and therefore cannot work within the ministry. Muggles usually succumb to their wounds. As far as I understand, they’re less “hardy” than wizards – though that could be just Mother’s opinion. I think it’s based in magic though. But his mother is married to a wizard and has access to healers. I think this would be new territory.”
James picked apart a cold slice of quiche and considered. He supposed it was possible. After all, Remus had said his mother was ill, and as far as James could recall, based on his sloppy astronomy homework, he had gone to visit her over the full moon.
“But Remus has been away at times that aren’t full moons.” James pointed out. “Remember that night he was away last week?”
“Yes,” Sirius conceded, “but he wasn’t away long enough to have even gone home. He attended all classes then I ran into him in the early morning. He said he was in the hospital wing. There’s no point in being home just overnight is there?”
“I dunno.”
James considered his small family and wondered how life would have been different if one of his parents was attacked by a werewolf.
“It must have been terrifying. I wonder if he was home?” James’ voice was uncharacteristically small. “I suppose it’s not the kind of thing you can just ask a person about. I’d be…” James couldn’t find the right word. Frightened, he supposed, of anyone finding out and looking at his family differently. Not quite ashamed, but not quite not. James was a poor liar and tended to think of this as a mark of his good character, but it occurred to him in that moment that perhaps he simply had nothing to lie about. He looked at his hands on his lap, studying the crumbs on his fingers. How lucky he was, to have parents he loved and believed in, to have been safe and adored. To be so childish.
He had lost his appetite.
He glanced at Sirius from the corner of his eye and really looked at him. Of course, he knew his new best-friend, but he supposed he didn’t really know him. He didn’t really know Remus, either. Or Peter. He felt miles away, across the lake, alone in the mountains, despite the solid warmth of the boy beside him. It had never really entered James’ head that there may be something about him that was genuinely unlikable – but here it was. He was childish. Childish and naïve. He felt naked and self-conscious by the cool water’s edge.
“I’d like to be able to help.” He said, looking directly at Sirius now. “But I don’t think I’ll be any good. I don’t really know how to be… er… delicate about things.” Thinking about his own inadequacies had been hard enough. He could hardly voice them.
Sirius met his gaze and smiled weakly. “Funny, ‘cause I feel like I can never be bold enough to really do any good.”
Never one to dwell in the darkness for long, James licked the crumbs off his fingers and grinned.
“That’s why we’re a great team!” he declared, putting an arm around Sirius’ shoulders.
“Yeah,” Sirius laughed. “Together we can be one whole person.”
Sirius returned the hug with one awkward arm. He thought it might be the first time he had ever hugged a friend.
Notes:
What in the world possessed me to come back to this story after 3 years is a mystery, but if you're here, reading it - thank you! I hope it added something good to your day.
~BS
Chapter 8: 5th November 1971
Summary:
Lily considers how magic has alienated her from her old muggle life. Meanwhile, Remus undergoes his first transformation under muggle medicine, hoping to make the first steps towards a future where he can be integrated into wizarding life.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Remus shivered, stood in the entrance hall with Madame Pomfrey, Briggs and Devon. He pulled his scarf tighter around his face and tucked his fingers into the sleeves of his jacket. The warm Autumn days were done, it seemed. An unforgiving chill whipped across the grounds and stung at the skin of any fool out late.
He supposed the wind would do some good to muffle the noise.
“Get a move on Lupin.” Chided Madame Pomfrey briskly. One half of Remus appreciated the way that she approached his affliction as though it were no more unusual than a broken wrist, but the other half of him felt cold, alone and sought out the comfort of a mothering figure in the night before the full moon.
He stumbled down the steps and joined the adults. Pomfrey placed a hand on his shoulder, but said nothing. He felt braver, somehow.
The trip down to the Whomping Willow was wordless and left space for his mind to wander. He supposed there was only reason to be hopeful. After all, if the muggle drugs worked, it might change his full moon transformations for the rest of his life. It was an exciting thought, though bittersweet - to think that it was only resources that held him away from such a life-changing solution.
The tree froze and they crouched into the tunnel, one after the other. Even wide-eyed, Remus could barely see the crouched back of Healer Briggs two feet in front of him. The air smelled like old soil and damp. It was a long walk.
The old house in Hogsmede had been abandoned for years and had a convenient history of misery which lent itself to malevolent ghost stories. The hope was that any noise he made would be attributed to unsettled spirits.
If all went well, there would be no noise tomorrow night.
~*~
“He’s gone again.”
Sirius cracked an eye open to see Peter’s face peeking through his four-poster curtains, his pale skin glowing in the darkness.
“Excuse me?” Sirius’ voice was thick with sleep and he rubbed his face to try and will himself into wakefulness. Peter glanced behind him before hopping up onto Sirius’ bed and perching awkwardly on the edge. He closed the curtains behind himself as if they would create some kind of soundproof barrier.
“I woke up a little bit ago. Remus is gone. His bed’s empty, but his trunk is still here.”
“What time is it?” Sirius pulled himself to sit up and made room for Peter. He didn’t think he’d ever spoken to the boy alone and was grappling with the invasion of his personal space by a friendly acquaintance.
“Four.”
Sirius considered the conversation he and James had had yesterday by the boathouse. He was torn between wanting to help, to properly reinvent himself and do the good Gryffendor thing, and his inclination to treat others how he expected to be. That is, having his family secrets left well alone.
“I’m worried about him.” Peter’s voice was small and he looked more at Sirius’ eyebrows than his eyes. “He was gone last month too, and came back hurt. I thought he’d just sprained his ankle or something, but I saw it bandaged the other night.” Peter took a shuddering breath and picked at his socks, rocking back and forth a little. “I know you said that it’s rude to pry, Sirius, but what if something’s not right? He’s going somewhere and coming back hurt, and tired.”
Peter trailed off and seemed to lose his confidence. He looked down at his own knees and waited for Sirius’ contribution, regret building as the seconds grew longer.
“Maybe James is right.” Sirius sighed. “Maybe it’s better to be direct. But…” Sirius thought of the reverse, Peter and Remus banding together to pry into his home-life. “I’m not brave enough, I suppose.”
He considered Peter. He was small and stocky, like James, though where James had a loud confidence, Peter had a quiet, timid hopefulness about him. He supposed Peter was to Remus what James was to him. Someone who had decided to latch on to a quiet and tight-lipped boy and force their unwavering company upon them.
“We’re worried too.” He tried his best to come off comforting to Peter. “What say we all speak to Remus when he next gets back? We don’t have to keep prying on the same subject - but maybe there’s something we can do to help anyway?”
~ * ~
“Okay Remus, just like last time, but a little longer. You’re a brave lad.”
Remus’ lips twitched at the compliment. He was perched on the dusty bed, once again surrendering his arm to the wizarding healers, who were testing muggle drugs licensed less than a decade ago on a child werewolf. It was a little ridiculous.
“Midazolam first, okay? Then once the transformation begins, we’ll “knock you out” as it were. We’ll be here the whole time, so you don’t have to worry.”
Briggs’ expression was soft and fatherly as he looked up at Remus from his seat next to him. The boy watched as the plunger was depressed in small increments over the course of their conversation.
In all honesty, he wasn’t worried about the drugs. The trial had gone well and both were surprisingly well tolerated. Other than some odd twitching and residual sleepiness, he’d had no ill effects - certainly nothing worse than an actual transformation. Sure, it had only been over two hours, rather than eight, but he was confident that he would at least wake up.
It was more the fact that they would be in the house with him. After all, wasn’t the whole point of the arrangement so that he could stay away from… potential victims? Yes. He was far more concerned that the drugs would fail to sedate his wolf and his worst nightmare would become reality.
He was too scared of speaking his fears into reality to voice it, however, so he simply smiled in acknowledgement of Briggs’ attempt at comfort and watched as the syringe was swapped for a line primed with the opaque white liquid that had put him to sleep weeks before.
Remus felt oddly dazed and a little sick. Pomfrey was watching him from the armchair in the corner of the room, glancing his way out of the corner of her eyes while she went through his trial papers with Devon. His eyes felt sticky and his head filled with cotton.
“I don’t want to be rude but…” Remus rubbed at his face groggily. “Can I go to sleep?”
Devon laughed from across the room. “Yeah wee man, it’s 11.30 and we just sedated you! Don’t let us keep you up.”
Remus didn’t have the presence of mind to register the amusement. He burrowed himself into the dusty sheets and listened to the low murmur of the adults around him.
~ * ~
Hi Benny,
I’m really sorry.
I’ll make it up to you at Christmas when I come home for the holidays. I was being a bit selfish and got caught up in my own things. I’m glad we’re still friends.
(I can’t believe you took Tuney up to the heap!? I won’t grass, I promise.)
That’s a bit grim, about Billy. I’m sorry we’re all moving around. I promise I’ll always come home, and that we’re still friends.
Petunia wanted to come, but there was no space, so we argued a lot and I couldn’t decide on whether to go or not for a long time. It’s up in Scotland and is very cool. To be honest, it is a bit like those books. I wonder if I made the right choice? I’ve made some friends here, but I feel like I’m going to be a stranger by Christmas.
Sev went to the same place, actually. But we’re not in the same house, so I don’t see him all the time. It’s good to have a friend though.
There’s some people here that I think you would have fun with. It’s a bit of a shame everyone seems to be from all around the country, so you’ll probably never meet them. This girl who is in my house called Dorcas is good fun, and I think you’d get on with a boy called Peter, too. He’s a bit quiet, but he likes to make people laugh - he reminds me of you!
Sounds like nothing new for Sev’s parents. I don’t think they’re written to him much either. I think he’s chuffed to be away from them, honestly.
(If you get Tuney to climb the pit wheel, I’ll repay you with the best secret ever).
From Lily
Lily re-used the envelope that her parents had sent her a letter in and enclosed her letter to Benny along with a short update for her family. It was a little frustrating to not be able to just write to him directly, but she could at least trust that Petunia would pass it on.
The Owelry smelled like ammonia and dust. It caught at her throat and made her cough on first entering. She definitely didn’t want an owl, if this was what it was going to smell like. She coaxed a school owl down from its high perch and handed it the letter, trying not to think too much about how absurd her life had become. Sending a letter by owl from her magic school to her old primary school friend full of white lies about where she was and what she was doing. Lily couldn’t help but entertain the thought that she had made a mistake in coming to Hogwarts. Surely it was unfair to ask her to abandon her life as she knew it at 11?
She wanted, more than anyone, to have someone to share the absurdity with. If only Petunia could have joined her. But now, thanks to her selfish choice, they’d never be the inseparable pair they were as young children. A crack had started to form between them years ago, not at all helped by Severus, or by Petunia’s obvious jealousy at her weirdness , but she had always hoped that things would knit together over time.
November afternoon sun lit the castle, casting the courtyards in dark shadow and setting the many windows ablaze. Lily let her mind wander, eyes staring blankly at the horizon. Perhaps she wouldn’t come back next year?
~ * ~
“So, why have you planned to reduce the dosage at midnight? Surely the opposite - a werewolf requires much more force to subdue than a child?” Pomfrey was skimming the notes by wandlight, occasionally glancing over her notes to check in on her student - not that there was much for her to do. Remus was held half asleep, half unconscious by a mixture of muggle drugs and plain tiredness.
“Yes, this was a large point of contention.” Pomfrey was a little wary of Briggs and Devon’s eager attitude. While she respected their willingness to help the afflicted child (and their bedside manner was unusually passable for research based healers) it was a little disconcerting to see how delighted they were to have a willing test subject in an area of research which was so difficult to source guinea pigs for.
“As you know, in terms of magic, it takes a lot of force to subdue a werewolf because they are magically powerful. However, in terms of muggle medicine, everything is based on weight, rather than magical strength. Regardless of how magically powerful a being is, 4.5 st is 4.5 st, if you’re a muggle. We’re hoping to circumvent this problem by applying muggle science.
A werewolf weighs the same in its human and wolf form, as far as we know. We consulted with a muggle veterinarian and it seems sedation doses are more conservative in large dogs than they are in children. We’d rather err on the side of caution.” Briggs silenced himself as the clock tower in Hogsmead could be heard tolling in the far distance.
“At the ready.” He added grimly.
Remus twitched on the bed, drawing the attention of the adults in the room. They simultaneously drew their wands. This was the moment of risk. They knew that a magical child reacted similarly to a muggle child to the drug, and in theory, the wolf should be subdued by the same logic. It was the transformation which was the real unknown factor.
“I’ve never seen a child werewolf,” Devon commented. “I suppose if nothing else, at least he won’t be awake to experience the change. I’ve heard it’s somewhat uncomfortable.”
No one replied. They watched, for the first time in their lives, a werewolf transform. Remus’ hands twitched again, and his eyes cracked open, half lidded. Instead of the mossy hazel they had been when he’d fallen asleep, bright, un-human amber stared blankly back.
“Are you sure he’s sedated?” Devon’s voice was a little high.
Briggs waved his hand in front of Remus’ face. The wolf’s eyes tracked the shadow sluggishly, but he made no effort to move.
“Yeah. He’s subdued, at least.”
In the dim wandlight, it was a little nightmarish. The sandy hair on Remus’ head seemed to spread like a rash in fast-forward. His face elongated into something unrecognisable, as did his hands. The muggle jumper he wore rippled unnervingly as the body underneath elongated and warped. Before the minute was complete, a gangly, half-dressed wolf lay, passive on the bed before them. In some respects, it was as though the boy had been completely replaced, but upon closer look, the fur colour held some resemblance, and the long limbs, disproportionately large paws and thin face with large ears hinted at the youthfulness that was shared by both forms.
“Lupin?” Pomfrey prompted, leaning forward to regard him reproachfully.
The wolf blinked sluggishly, its tail (trapped in Remus’ trouser leg) twitched, as did the slightly floppy ears on its head.
“Wow,” breathed Devon, brave enough to inch forward. “I can’t believe it was that easy.”
Briggs hummed. “Indeed, seems a little too good to be true. The night’s not over yet.”
~ * ~
“The ideal scenario would be to remove the element of transformation all-together,” Briggs leaned back in his chair, one eye on the sleepy wolf, but much more relaxed now that it was clear there was no immediate risk.
“But since that is obviously impossible, the most perfect and potentially possible solution is to allow the lycanthrope to keep their human mind. Naturally, this is preferable for the werewolf themselves - there is plenty of anecdotal evidence of how upsetting it is to lose chunks of time to the wolf - but also legally. Keeping the mind means that the werewolf, the person never loses their humanity. It means that there is a starting point for re-integrating werewolves into wizarding society. If a wizard maintains his sanity - even as a wolf - then essentially you have an unwilling animagus. They can be tried for crimes committed during transformation and if they can be tried, then it’s acknowledged that there was a choice. That is the perfect option. It forces wizarding society to acknowledge werewolves as wizards again.”
Pomfrey hummed in acknowledgement, considering Briggs over steepled fingers. “I suppose this is part of the reason that the Lupins agreed at all. It must be difficult to consider that their child will grow up to be an outcast from society.”
Devon yawned. It was several hours into a long night and he wanted desperately to take a cat nap and rest his arms on the bed. He resisted. Professionalism was still important, even in the unusual setting. “There’s a long way to go, but it’s people like Lupin that will allow any real progress to be made,” he added. “Even this -” he gestured to the now empty boxes that the propofol and midazolam had come from, “Isn’t a viable solution, just a starting point. It’s just not accessible to most afflicted wizards and isn’t simple enough to have a 100% compliance rate. And that’s what society would need - in the end.”
They lapsed into silence again, watching the wolf. It was still half-asleep, still twitching occasionally, and still quiet. Briggs continued to manually push the maintenance dose diligently. This was the only trouble with wizards using muggle medicine. The lack of access to electrical machinery meant it was very tedious to manage.
It was only perhaps half an hour before the moon would set when the snarling began. Initially a low growl and an increase in the twitching. There was an agitated air to the movements now. Briggs raised his eyebrows and simply pushed a larger bolus.
“You can note that down, Devon. Four hours at approximately 2mg/kg/hr before tolerance developed.”
Obediently, the junior healer did as he was instructed, pulling back a little from the bed - just in case.
“Will he wake?”
“Hopefully not. Keep your wand ready.”
Notes:
What were the odds that I'd have another one in me!?
I feel like the tone is a bit dark, compared to the earlier chapters. I can't let the Remus plot-line go - but I think it's time for some Severus in the next chapter or so.Also, I did have a look into dosages for dogs compared to children and I think I'm understanding things correctly - though also, no one cares except me, no doubt.
Chapter Text
4th December 1971
“Evans?”
Remus heard Lily’s footsteps stop and he hurried round the corner to catch up to her.
“The surname thing is still weird.” She said neutrally.
“Sorry, Lily,” Remus corrected, offering her a small smile. “It does take a bit of getting used to.”
The corridors were quite empty, the occasional echo of far-off footsteps breaking the peaceful morning. It was the weekend, and not many students were up and dressed at 6am, let alone wandering the hallways. There was a real bite of morning chill that the stone walls were doing little to keep at bay, despite the flaming torches.
“So…” started Remus losing his nerve a little now that he was face-to-face with her. “...What are you doing out so early?” He thought she looked a little forlorn. Her face seemed pale behind the freckles and though she was up early, her two plaits were frizzy, as though she’d been restless and hadn’t bothered to re-do them.
He didn’t know what had spurred him to call out to her. He and Lily were housemates, and occasionally sat together in class, but Remus spent more time with Peter, and she with the Gryffendor girls, or Severus.
There was just something about the way they were both wandering the cold empty corridors together that made him want to connect with someone.
He didn’t… connect with people. He didn’t reach out to people. Every now and again, someone would hold out a hand to him and he would cautiously take it. He’d been lucky that Peter, James and seemingly Sirius had done as much since he started Hogwarts. Maybe it was being surrounded by all those incredibly Gryffendor students that stoked the little fire of bravery inside him.
They fell into step, continuing their aimless wandering, climbing one staircase after another, watching the castle wake up.
“I couldn’t really sleep,” said Lily. “There’s too much to think about.”
Remus related, but felt that they couldn’t surely have the same thoughts keeping them up at night.
“Like what?”
Lily sighed. “Oh… I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even understand what I feel so sad about - or if I even feel sad, to be honest.” She fiddled with the end of her plait. “It’s like everything is too good to be true, in the best way and the worst way all at once.”
They turned down the seventh floor corridor, their footsteps echoing around them solemnly.
“Yeah, it is a bit like that,” he agreed lamely. “You’re muggle-born, aren’t you? It must be difficult to be the first one.”
Lily nodded. “Is everything how you had expected? I suppose you were excited to come. Marlene and Dorcas were talking about waiting for the letter the other night. All it did in my family was cause arguments, at the start.”
Remus didn’t answer immediately. A small group of Ravenclaws was passing and he became self-conscious about being overheard. He steered them towards the steep spiral steps leading up to the Astronomy Tower - he doubted they’d be interrupted there.
“I didn’t expect to come at all,” Remus confessed softly, not looking at Lily.
“I thought your parents were magic?”
“Kind of. My dad’s a wizard. My mum isn’t. She’s a school teacher.”
They had reached the top of the staircase. There was a small landing where students normally queued, decorated with nothing more than two closed doors and a torch. Remus knew one door led to the Astronomy classroom and supposed the other must lead to the small open part of the tower which could be seen from the classroom windows. Lily opened the outside door. It was lightly drizzling. They went out into the morning air anyway.
The sky was white and featureless, stretching bleakly out into the distant hills. On the Quidditch pitch, the unfortunate Ravenclaw team could be seen practicing in the cold.
“He didn’t, like, keep that he was a wizard a secret from you both, did he?” Lily asked.
Remus laughed a little. “No, nothing like that. She knows. It’s just…we moved house a lot, I- er… Mum was ill a lot and my dad never really thought that I’d be able to go. He never talked about Hogwarts and didn’t do a lot of magic at home. I suppose he didn’t want me to feel like I was missing out. I even went to muggle school, for a little bit.”
“So, you didn’t practice any magic before you came?” There was something a little mischievous in her voice that Remus raised an eyebrow at.
“Yeah. I started kind of from scratch when I arrived - a bit like you, I suppose. But I think a lot of wizard families do that on purpose - like a tradition.” Remus was thinking of James whining about his parents not allowing him to get a wand until his letter came and making him take lessons from a local muggle tutor in reading and maths.
Lily sighed. “I keep wondering if I should have even come at all.” She confessed. Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Can’t imagine why. You’re one of the better students in our year, after all.”
“It’s not that…” She leaned against the battlements and tucked her cold hands into her pockets. “It’s just… I have a sister, right? And she didn’t get a letter. And my parents… I’ve never lived away from them before. And I had friends, in my street and at my school. I was excited to start high school, too. And now I feel like things can never go back to the way they were.”
Remus was a little ashamed at how surprised he felt. He had never considered the way students, particularly muggle born or muggle-integrated students, were expected to abandon their life. And even though school would one day be over, Lily was right. Things wouldn’t be the same. She would have to maintain a lie to all of her old friends. They would grow apart. Old aspirations would have to be discarded. He supposed he could thank his childhood isolation for that, at least. He hadn’t expected anything to change. He’d assumed that he would always be lonely, excluded, living on the fringes of society. And then, when he’d become convinced that the wizarding world had forgotten him, Albus Dumbledore had come knocking.
“Do you know what, that’s not completely fair,” Lily abruptly confessed. “I did dream of Hogwarts a bit. I was excited about the idea of it, it was fun to imagine. It’s just the reality is a bit… different.”
Remus was surprised, and intrigued. “How could you possibly have known? I had thought that muggle children were only introduced to the idea of Hogwarts around the summer before first term?”
“Severus told me,” Lily’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “He used to tell me I was magic, and that I would go to magic school with him.” Remus thought she looked almost amused at herself. “I believed him, I suppose. But I also thought of it as our fun little make-believe world. I hadn’t really considered the reality of leaving my life behind. He used to tell me all sorts of stories about the wizarding world, I suppose they were all true, in the end.”
“You’re talking about Severus Snape?” Remus asked. He did vaguely know of the dark haired boy that often sat by Lily in classes they shared with Slytherin. He had never really spoken to him, but he knew James and Sirius weren’t keen on him.” He’s in Slytherin, right?”
Lily scowled defensively. “Yeah, not that it means anything!”
Remus’ hands went up placatingly. “I never said it did!” He assured her. “I’ve barely spoken to him.”
He shivered, and could feel his damp hair sticking to his forehead. “I’m getting cold, should we go back?”
“I suppose.”
It was drawing closer to a reasonable time to be awake and the castle started to come to life as the two first years made their way across the courtyards across to the Gryffendor side of the tower. Having shared an uncharacteristically large portion of his soul, Remus had relaxed somewhat. On Lily’s sly request, he revealed some of the tamer secrets of the boy’s dormitory - mainly their midnight feasts of melted cream cakes and disturbingly room-temperature sandwiches. In exchange for the juicy tidbit that James Potter had brought a soft toy dragon to Hogwarts, stuffed to the bottom of his trunk, Lily swore her secrecy and showed Remus how to perform a proper temperature control charm. They were tucked into an alcove, practicing it into Remus’ robe pocket when they were abruptly interrupted.
“Evans, Lupin.”
A curt, hostile voice rang out, far too derisive for the unimpressive, pale-faced boy that had stopped by them.
Lily laughed. “Oh, who are you calling Evans?” She said lightly, standing up to greet her friend. “Sev, you know Remus, don’t you?”
“We’ve met,” he didn’t bother to look at Remus. His eyes were hard and glued to Lily. Remus thought he would have looked dangerous, if they weren’t eleven.
“What’s the matter with you?” Lily’s bright demeanor melted away when she realised Severus didn’t seem to be joking. “Did something happen?”
Snape turned his gaze from her, looking hard at the stone wall, his lips a thin line.
“We were supposed to meet at seven thirty,” he bit out venomously. “Seems that you’d forgotten.”
Remus noticed Lily send Snape an incredulous scowl as she checked her watch. It was plastic and pink, shaped like a flower - Remus smiled, remembering Lily worrying about leaving her muggle life behind.
“Oh, it’s seven forty-five. Sorry Sev. We’ve still got loads of time, though.”
~ * ~
Still got loads of time . She had to be winding him up. Of course, they had the whole morning, but it was the principle of the thing. He had waited (foolishly) at the Great Hall doors, ignoring the looks from groups of students passing by him to enjoy their weekend together. And I would have looked like a sad little loner, no doubt his mind supplied, unkindly. While here she is, getting pally with Lupin.
“Well, you know where to find me when you’re finished with your new friend .” He had intended the words to come out unbothered, but even Severus could hear the sneer in his own voice. He resolutely kept his face neutral when Lily reacted predictably.
“Oh for Christ’s sake!” Lily took an advancing step, testing his resolve. “I’m allowed to have friends !”
He made no comment, simply raising his eyebrows, only serving to fuel her temper. Severus caught sight of Remus unobtrusively dusting off his school robe and leaving towards the Gryffendor common room. It was no good him leaving now. You’ve already ruined it .
“Are you going to speak to me, or not!?” Lily’s raised voice attracted a few glances from passing older students. “If you’re going to be like that, you’d best be planning to speak to me properly.”
“Fine!” He matched her, and took a step up to Lily. They were nose-to-nose. “I want to know why you’re hanging around with those boys anyway!? They’re idiots!”
“Hanging around what boys !?” Lily hissed at him. “First of all, who I speak to is my business - I suppose you’d like me to send you a letter every time I’d like to speak to someone from my own house!?” She poked him in the chest accusingly. “Secondly, I’m not hanging around with those boys - whoever they are - I was speaking to my friend . Shame I’m only allowed one at a time apparently!”
Severus opened his mouth to argue, but Lily poked him again.
“Don’t bother, Sev.” He watched her storm off up the stairs towards the common room. He could still feel her indignation where her finger had jabbed his chest.
Notes:
Earlier, I think in chapter one, I said Remus had never been to school before. I changed my mind, because I wanted him and Lily to have more in common. Canonically, he was bitten when he was 5, so I don’t think it’s unreasonable to say he went to muggle school for just under one academic year starting December 1965
Chapter 10: 4th December 1971 cont.
Summary:
Lily and Remus talk a little
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
4th December 1971 - cont.
Lily’s fury dissipated in her footfalls and by the time she’d made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady, she became aware of her own angry tears drying on her cheeks.
“What a lot of drama for a little first-year” the portrait commented dryly. Lily glowered at her and scrubbed her face with the back of her hand in an attempt to make it less obvious that she’d been upset.
“Perrywinkle,” she muttered, and climbed wordlessly through the open portrait hole.
The common room was quite full, thanks to the grim weather. She couldn’t see the other Gryffendor girls and supposed they must still be at breakfast. She did spot James Potter, along with Sirius and Peter in a far corner doing what she supposed must be homework - books were open in front of them. A few older students were dotted here and there, two brothers she thought were in the Gryffendor quidditch team were carefully repairing a deep scratch to a broom with a maintenance kit.
She had thought she would find Remus here, but it seemed she was mistaken. Lily knew it was probably fruitless, as he was friends with James Potter, but she didn’t want that.. Meeting… to colour his opinion of Severus. But she supposed if he wasn’t with Potter and his friends, she was out of luck.
Her stomach was turned with the fallout and she couldn’t bear to try and join her dorm-mates for breakfast. She wished she hadn’t lost track of time. Lily wasn’t foolish enough to think that Severus’ response was warranted, but in the aftermath, she did feel guilty that it was her absentmindedness that had put him in that mind-set in the first place.
Petunia had said she was careless and scatterbrained plenty over the years.
It was when the Gryffendor head boy came out of the door tucked in the right hand of the common room that it occurred to her.
She waited for him to leave the portrait hole, and scanned the room to check that the others were engrossed in their own pastimes and paying her no mind. Luckily she was inconspicuous as a small and relatively unknown first year. It seemed no one spotted her slip into the door leading to the boys dormitory staircase.
She climbed the stone steps to the first sub-landing and pushed it open.
As she’d guessed, there was Remus. His head snapped up from the book he was sitting reading on his bed. His eyebrows raised at the unexpected company, but he dog-eared his page, closed the book and smiled politely at her.
“Lily? Are you alright?”
She closed the door behind her and stepped into the room proper. It was an almost exact replica of her own dorm, bar the knick-knacks on the bedside tables.
“Yeah,” she said, quietly. “I’m sorry about that.”
Remus shuffled to the edge of his bed and faced her properly. “You don’t have to say sorry.”
But I do. If she let it happen, Severus would make no effort to be friendly with anyone, besides herself. And it wasn’t fair to him. She couldn’t be the only person in the world who saw the good in him.
She accepted the unspoken invitation and went to sit beside him.
“He’s just… I don’t know… he’s just-”
“Scared?” Remus finished for her. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“No, you’re right, I think.” Lily looked at Remus’ perfectly neutral face carefully. “Scared… Sometimes I feel like he forgets that…” Lily bit her lip. It’s maybe a bit unfair to be talking behind his back like this . Though Remus seemed… safe enough.
“He has something good, and doesn’t want to lose it,” Remus mused.
But the only thing stopping him from having it is holding it too tightly , she realised.
They sat in silence for a little while, Lily stared at her feet, then noticed Remus’. Or rather the bloody gauze peeking out from underneath his faded blue socks.
“What happened to your ankle?” she asked. Lily remembered back to early that term and the way Remus had limped into class, late. She felt him twitch next to her, then he reached down and self-consciously pulled his socks up.
“I just hurt it,” he whispered stiffly. Lily raised an eyebrow at him, more interested than ever.
“You hurt it back in October, too, didn’t you?” It wasn’t really a question. He chewed his thumb nervously instead of answering.
“Remus.”
Lily had only been vaguely interested, but the way he seemed to be looking for a way out of the conversation without creating more intrigue had convinced her to pursue it.
He seemed to wilt in front of her. The calm politeness had vanished from his face and behind it was something frightened and raw. She looked at the hand he was chewing. For the first time she noticed that he was missing a fingernail. His hands resembled her fathers more than her own. As a welder, he sported many small marks from burns and careless handling of sharp metal.
He couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Remus, what’s going on?” Her voice was careful and even. The same voice she saved for frightened animals and lost younger children.
The silence grew between them like a deep, dark trench. Lily’s mind inexplicably thought of mineshafts.
After a long while, something small and brave reached out.
“I can’t tell you.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. Lily thought his eyes looked wet.
“You can.”
It was that simple.
He wiped his eyes, a little roughly and met her gaze. His eyes are green, too, she noticed.
“I’m a… I…” He struggled for a moment. “I bit it.” Lily said nothing and Remus heaved a wobbly breath before continuing. “Sorry, no, it’s not that. Well, it is that, I didn’t lie. It’s that… I’m a werewolf.”
Lily’s expression didn’t change. A vague memory presented itself to her.
“So, wizards and witches, what about warlocks?”
“Just another word for wizard,” Severus answered.
“Okay, what about vampires and banshees and werewolves?”
Severus laughed. “I mean, kind of. But they’re not just, like, normal. You wouldn’t see one in school or something.”
Well, he was wrong about one thing , Lily thought, mildly.
“Please… Lily…” Remus’ hands were shaking. She reached out and took them, thoughtlessly.
“I… I don’t really know what that means, Remus.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. He had the air of someone confessing a great sin, but it had little significance to her, other than guilt at making him so upset. “Well, I do, but… I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel.”
Apparently unable to hold himself together any longer, he sobbed. Once. Then groaned in frustration, unable to stop the second, then the third. She was swimming out of her depth, out at sea, flailing desperately for the right thing to do as she watched her classmate sit in front of her and sob, head down, tears dropping into his lap, his hands shaking in hers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him. He glanced up. His face was wet with tears and snot, mouth quivering, eyes puffy.
So this was the small, brave thing that reached out , she realised.
All she could do was pull him in for a hug. With his hot face hidden safely in her shoulder, he could do nothing to gather himself together. The light was on, he’d been exposed, and worst of all, he’d been seen. It was all he could do not to wail.
Notes:
Lily got her shining moment.
My resolute headcanon is that Remus told Lily he was a werewolf long before James and Sirius worked it out.
Remus sees a little of Severus in himself, the frightened animal guarding something precious, I suppose.
The chapter is a little short, but hopefully it’s solid enough to make up for the brevity.
Chapter 11: 18th December 1971
Summary:
The Christmas holidays approach and Sirius becomes uncomfortably aware of how different he really is from his housemates.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The wave of relief that had washed over him after his confession was unfortunately short-lived. He’d been mistaken in thinking that some kind of weight would be lifted from him and he would be renewed. Instead, it had been almost impossible to speak to his dorm-mates that evening. It was as though he’d been stripped naked for everyone to see, or that his secret was written on his forehead. He had mumbled excuses and goodnights before snapping the curtains closed and feigning sleep - barely hearing the muffled conversations around him.
As he lay there in the dark, the worry grew. He could feel it winding, winding, from the sprout in his stomach, up his chest, squeezing his ribs, up his neck and threatening his face. He felt hot and itchy, unable to close his eyes, his thoughts on an endless hamster wheel.
She’ll tell, and then I’m done. She’ll tell, and then it’ll all come to an end. No one will speak to me, my friends will be frightened of me. Parents will write to the headmaster to complain, he’ll have to go to the Ministry, he’ll be sacked. I’ll be sent home, and I’ll be hated. My parents will be disappointed. My dad will lose his job. She’ll tell and-
He couldn’t bear it. The fear of the unknown, the uncontrollable variable, it was all too much. The sense of impending doom, the uncertainty that things would continue as always, or his life would fall apart without warning. He couldn’t bear it.
And it continued, night after night. He’d lie awake, trying to anticipate and come to terms with the end of his life as he knew it, alone with his vines and creeping worry and itchy thoughts, hidden behind the curtains. He’d sit up, lie down, toss and turn. He’d get up, creep past his dorm-mates to the bathroom and stare into the mirror, having a strong word with himself. He’d stand under the shower and try to distract himself with the water. He’d sit in the common room and look into the dying fire, try to read or try to sleep on one of the sofas.
Eventually the sky would lighten, the Tower would come to life, and his fears would recede into a niggling worry. He would be swept up in the movement of his friends, following them down to the Hall and picking at his breakfast - trying hard not to meet the gaze of Lily Evans. He would follow them from class to class, resolutely sitting beside Peter to avoid the possibility of having to pair up with her. It was too much to bear.
Thankful for something to distract him for the evening, he had agreed to help Peter with some transfiguration. They sat in the corner of the common room, Remus having tucked himself safely into the shadows, with a textbook and several handfuls of pretty stones on the table before them. Running Peter through the theory of the spell and correcting his attempts, seeing them get closer and closer to accuracy was maybe the only thing that week that had been able to take his mind off his predicament. What a relief.
Finally, after many attempts, Peter tapped the small jade stone and it transformed into a tiny castle turret. Delighted, they both punched the air and grinned at each other.
“Nice,” Remus complimented, picking up the little statue to inspect it. “I like the detail-”
Peter hugged him abruptly, earning a surprised squeak from Remus before he looked down at Peter’s beaming face. His blue eyes were bordering on veneration.
“Remus, you’re a legend! That’s the best one I’ve ever done!” He took the statue from his friend and inspected it himself. “Not even, like, that spell. I mean the best transfiguration I’ve ever done!”
Remus hoped his blush looked less hot than it felt. It certainly was good. Even in the tiny turret window was the figure of a person waving out. The whole thing was no bigger than a man’s thumb.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll do the next one?”
~ * ~
18th December
Hi Mam and Dad,
Sorry it’s been a little while. Things have been going good. I’ve got some friends, and I’m okay in class. Remus has been helping me with transfiguration (he’s my friend, he’s in Gryffendor with me) cos that’s the hardest one. I’m pretty good at charms, though!
It’s getting Christmassey here now! They’re putting the trees up and all that, so even though it’s getting really cold, it looks pretty with all the lights and that. I think I even saw a fairy in a tree too. Are they more like bugs, or what? Cos they look a bit like people but then it seems bad that they’ve got them as decorations.
I’m really looking forward to seeing you both at Christmas. What have Liam and Pat been saying? Don’t tell them I was asking, though, okay
I’ve been working really hard on a good Christmas present, I hope you all like it.
Lots of love from Peter.
“Okay, Goose, listen carefully.” Peter sealed his letter and tied it to his pet owl. It stared at him blankly. “You don’t look like you’re listening…” Peter rolled his eyes and picked it up, walking over to the Tower window.
“It’s not the same address you went to last time, alright? They’ve gone to Granny’s for the holidays so you need to make sure you go to Granny’s okay, even though it says Mam and Dad. You got it?”
The owl looked slowly from the cold night outside to its young owner’s encouraging face. Peter didn’t feel confident that there was a single thought in its head, despite the little chirp before it took off into the sky.
“I’ve never met a thick owl before,” said James, sounding more interested than derisive. “Didn’t it take two weeks to get back to you last time, too?”
Peter closed the window. “I don’t even think he’s stupid, to be honest, it’s like… it’s like he’s not even interested or something. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to be a post owl.” He shrugged and kicked off his shoes before getting changed out of his uniform for the evening. “It’s not like they get to choose, right?” His voice was muffled as he fought his way out of his tshirt. “What if he just wanted to be a normal owl and now he has to carry my stupid letters around.”
James laughed. “Yeah, like maybe he had a whole life before you bought him and made him your post servant.”
Peter snorted. “Yeah, that’ll be why it takes him so bloody long. Gone to check in on his owl girlfriend or whatever.”
James peeked around the poster of his bed impishly, clearly trying to keep a straight face.
“Yoo-hoo!” He hooted at Peter before he lost it, cackling at himself.
Peter was trying to hide the snot that he accidentally snorted out in laughter when he noticed Sirius at the dormitory doorway. His eyebrows were raised incredulously. James spotted Sirius and the hysterics mounted even higher - he was clearly laughing at his own joke before he’d even started speaking. Peter watched as his goofiest dorm-mate wrapped himself in the red hangings of his four-poster like a caterpillar in a chrysalis. He could still hear his muffled giggles from behind the fabric.
“Hey - hey Sirius!” James managed to force out past the giggling. He abruptly spread his arms, holding a fistful of curtain in each hand giving the impression of spreading his wings.
“ Yoo-hoo! ”
“They’ve got the giggles.” Explained Remus, appearing behind Sirius in the doorway. That much was obvious. Caught up in the nonsense, James and Peter were red in the face, hooting at each other whenever they managed to get enough breath between hysterics.
Sirius kept quiet. While Remus couldn’t help but smile at the antics, Sirius’ face was blank. He walked over to his trunk and put his books away from his bag before getting changed himself. Eventually the silliness died down enough for James to catch on that his best friend wasn’t quite soaking up the energy.
“You alright?” he whispered over to Sirius who was folding his uniform neatly. He looked up at James. He was still pink-cheeked, his hair frizzy from playing in the curtains, and only half-dressed. No socks, school trousers, unbuttoned pyjama top. For the first time since they had met, the sight of his care-free friend made his stomach flip uncomfortably.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “I’m fine.”
James’ smile dropped just a touch. “You seem a bit sad.” He said it quietly for Sirius’ benefit, but he still flinched at the directness. Luckily Remus and Peter were in the attached bathroom brushing their teeth.
“I’m not sad.” It wasn’t an assurance, or particularly defensive. Sirius’ face was impassive and he looked past James. Something was different here. He just wasn’t… right. He wasn’t the safe person to confide in here. He wouldn’t understand.
So Sirius wished him goodnight and closed his curtains so he didn’t have to look at James’ sad, brown puppy eyes.
Then he waited.
James must have been sobered somewhat by their quiet interaction. Peter was still playful when he returned from the bathroom and seemed a little lost by James’ muted responses. Sirius could hear his friend pottering about around his bed, moving books and opening and closing his trunk. On the other side of the room, Peter could be heard chatting to Remus. He hoped they wouldn’t take too long.
He waited. Staring at the canopy above him, listening. Listening and thinking.
Did he even want to ask? He considered this. It had seemed the thing to do to confide in someone, but perhaps that was his best friend rubbing off on him. Of course James would. But he wasn’t James. He wasn’t a Potter. Perhaps keeping matters to himself was the more sensible choice.
And what would anyone else have to add? Peter was pure blood, yes, but it was different. It was easy for Sirius to see the similarity in the way he interacted with their environment that he shared a sort of muggle-ness that Remus sometimes exhibited. He wouldn’t understand.
And what about Remus? Well, he was difficult. After all, he knew he wasn’t pure blood. And he is more than happy to go home, he thought, a little bitterly.
But he can respect a secret .
Yes. That was the real issue. He needed a certain confidence that perhaps his quieter friend could offer.
He sighed. It was risky, though. He didn’t know Remus like he knew James. They slept in the same room, attended the same classes, ate breakfast, lunch and dinner sat together and worked on homework in the vicinity of each other. But they weren’t close.
It’s the cloak , he mused. That’s what makes it different . James had shared something special and secret with him. And sure, the cloak, physically, was an amazing thing to use and their night time wanderings were fun, but there was something more than that. He’d been chosen . Entrusted as an accomplice, as a worthy partner to share a secret world with.
He heard, as he had for the last few nights, the sound of bedsprings and quiet feet across the wooden dormitory floor. And there was the soft click of the door and the rustle of fabric as Remus left the room.
Maybe this is my cloak.
He kept still, just in case - for the first time in over a week - the other two would be roused from their dead-sleep by Remus’ night-time comings and goings.
The room was still.
He slipped out of bed and stood in the darkness. How many times before had he done this? He couldn’t even count. Sneaking about that huge house looking for one person to share a secret with. James couldn’t have known that he’d chosen the best man for the job when it came to stalking around in the shadows at night.
There he was. Sirius stood at the bottom of the boys’ staircase, looking into the quiet common room. The fire was low in the hearth, glowing red and inky black. If he wasn’t so observant, he could have missed Remus. The armchair was facing away from Sirius, looking into the fire, and it almost engulfed the first year who was curled up in it, arms around his legs, sandy head on his knees, staring blankly at the embers.
He made sure to make some noise as he entered the room proper. He wasn’t trying to scare him off. Nevertheless, Remus’ head jolted up.
“Sirius?” His voice was high and tight and in the low light his eyes looked bruised against his pale face.
Sirius could sense a hint of panic that he didn’t understand. It wasn’t a crime to sit in the common room, after all.
He made himself comfortable on the sofa beside the armchair and looked pointedly into the fire. There was an air of frightened animal about Remus and so he thought it best not to stare at him.
“Is this where you come every night?” He asked softly. From the corner of his eye he could see Remus staring at him like a wary cat. It was a while before he replied.
“You heard?”
“Well, yeah.” How could he not? After all, who wouldn’t jolt awake at the sound of unexpected footsteps and opening doors while they were sleeping.
Well, Peter and James, I suppose .
“I don’t think the others noticed, though.” Sirius offered, trying to comfort him. Had he ever tried to comfort a friend before?
He heard Remus sigh lightly and turn back towards the fire.
“So, what’re you doing down here as well, then? Couldn’t sleep?”
“Mmmm… Something like that.”
Would he ask? He felt a mysterious pressure building, like some kind of invisible clock was ticking down.
“Are you going home for Christmas?”
Well, he couldn’t take it back now. He braved a look at Remus and was met with a benignly confused expression.
“Er… Yeah. Everyone is, I think.”
“Oh.”
It hung in the air between them, twisting the atmosphere like something spoiling. Sirius felt regret rushing towards him, but it was too late to escape the wave.
“Were you… were you going to stay?”
He was relieved that there was no pity in Remus’ voice, at least. He didn’t need that.
“I thought… maybe…” His cheeks flushed a little at his stammering. “I thought it would be nice here, at Christmas.” That was lame .
Remus glanced away from Sirius to take in the holly around the hearth. He had heard in a few days there would be a Christmas tree in the common room.
“I suppose. But don’t you want to see your family?”
“Not particularly,” Sirius mumbled, then blushed again. That was the little shard of James Potter that seemed to live in him these days. He began to backtrack. “Well, that’s not true, I do miss my brother, a bit, but well, I don’t know how much you know about… about these kinds of families… but it’s not really… fun.”
Remus considered him carefully. His face was soft and his tired eyes were kind.
“How old is your brother?”
Sirius was thankful that he hadn’t picked up the unsavoury details he’d carelessly spilled. Not that he was foolish enough to think he hadn’t noticed.
“He’s just turned 10.”
He tried not to think about Regulus too much. Mainly to ward off the guilt. They had always been each other’s best company in the lonely old house. He was glad to be the older brother. It must have been miserable to be left behind.
He wouldn’t know, of course.
He hadn’t written.
“Well, I imagine it must have been lonely,” Remus said. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I won’t lie and say I’ve never heard of your family name. It must be hard, being in one of those families. Since I’ve been here, seeing some of the pure blood families like the Malfoys… I’m thankful to be out of that whole world.”
Sirius didn’t reply. There was that pit of guilt growing inside him and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. How cruel of him. What kind of big brother would leave their first ally behind like that? How selfish.
His mother had always said he was selfish.
The night crawled on and they sat in companionable silence. Eventually, Remus’ head began to droop and he dozed off in the armchair. Sirius took the opportunity to look at him openly.
How different he was to James. It was a strange thing that he had become so attached to the Potter heir so easily. He supposed if anyone had to make a guess, they would be the more likely pair.
Remus’ hands were clasped in the well of his crossed legs. The pyjamas were too short.
Sirius saved the unusual sight of his mangled left ankle and missing fingernail for future inquiry.
Notes:
I need to remove the 3rd person limited tag from this because honestly, the POV is just whatever I feel fits the vibe best at the time...
I love silly James.
I'll try my best not to get lost in a side-plot crack fic of Goose the Owl's second life lol
Chapter 12: 20th December 1971
Summary:
Sirius goes home for Christmas
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sirius stood at the platform and watched as the crowd slowly thinned. He’d waved to his friends, one by one, as they spotted their families and ran off to greet them. For the first time, he glimpsed James’ parents - James seemed to have inherited his father’s unruly hair and excitable air. Remus was next, running to the open arms of his mother then blushing and hurrying back for his forgotten trunk. Before they left the platform, he’d turned to offer Sirius a smile. Finally, Peter left his side and called out to who must have been a brother of his. Behind the equally blond sibling appeared his delighted parents. His father actually picked him up, jokingly, trunk under one arm, son under the other until Peter managed to wriggle himself free.
Then there he was, alone on the platform, dwarfed by his large, heavy trunk and wondering if it was too late to get back on the train.
As the thought occurred to him, a hiss of steam warned him of the train’s journey back to Scotland and he was left with no choice. He took the handle of his trunk and began to drag it to the exit. He hadn’t gotten far before he was intercepted.
“Hey, Little Imp!”
He whipped around to see his cousin approaching him with her own belongings. She towered over him, but smiled down benignly.
“Andromeda?” he was bemused why she was hanging about so late.
“Oh please, we’re not there yet! Don’t tell me Gryffendor hasn’t loosened you up, Little Imp.”
Sirius scowled and her smile only widened. “I’m not little.”
“Hmm? You’re looking quite little from where I’m standing.” She gave him a cheeky look and flicked her wand at his trunk, easily blessing it with a small set of wheels.
“Nice! Thanks!”
Andromeda started off with her own trunk and Sirius’ face fell at her abrupt departure, but she turned back to him and rolled her eyes. “Hurry up!”
Sirius fumbled his trunk handle and hurried to catch up.
“Er… where are we going?”
Andromeda leaned against the wall and Sirius copied her.
“Oh for goodness’ sake- didn’t your parents write to you? What am I saying, of course they didn’t. I’m going to take you home, idiot.”
Sirius beamed for the first time since the Christmas holiday list had been announced at Hogwarts. As much as he had a hollow dread residing inside his chest at the thought of going home, Andromeda had always been a shining light of his pre-Hogwarts existence and a much-needed glimpse into the world outside.
They walked out of King’s Cross Station into the damp, tobacco laced air of the muggle street outside. Sirius hoped that Andromeda might take him down a back alley and apparate him home - he knew she had passed her exam over the summer and he was itching for a rare chance to experience it.
But instead, his cousin led him to the glowing subway steps that led into the Underground station.
Even better , he thought. This was why he loved Andromeda.
Without magic to help them along, they were forced to thunk their trunks down the stairs, earning themselves tired glances from the damp commuters around them. They queued by the ticket machines so Andromeda could buy them passes and made their way through the barriers.
“Are you coming to visit?” Asked Sirius, thankful for the escalator so that he didn’t have to bump his case down what he assumed would be hundreds of stairs. His eyes flicked across the West End show adverts that accompanied them on the ride down into London’s depths.
“Well, I wasn’t planning to, but I suppose I could pop in with you - might as well see Regulus and wish him a happy late-birthday.”
Sirius shelved thoughts of his brother for the time being. He was excited to be on the Underground with his big cousin and didn’t need his guilt ruining it. When they reached the bottom of the escalator, Andromeda began to feign idiocy for Sirius’ amusement.
“I simply can’t read, and it’s all so confusing - how will I ever find the right platform?” she complained dramatically. “I suppose I’ll have to ask this tiny little imp for directions.” Sirius shoved her at the slight, but excitedly turned to the map on the wall and traced his finger on it.
“The black one,” he told her, knowingly. She rolled her eyes.
“It shouldn’t be hard for you to remember.” He ignored the comment.
“Platform… Eight!” He declared, pointing down the busy corridor.
“Whatever you say, Little Imp. I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right! I can read a map!” he said indignantly, setting off to the platform. He pushed his way to the front of the gaggle of muggles, earning himself some muttered complaints. Andromeda pulled him back by the hood of his winter robes.
“Don’t lean over the tracks, Idiot.”
“I just want to look.” She rolled her eyes again. “Okay well, good luck with that when the train takes your face off.” She warned. As if on cue, a war-like rumble grew from the void of a tunnel and seconds later, the train screeched into the platform. Andromeda kept a fist full of her young companion’s hood to stop him from trying to board against the wave of commuters disembarking.
She actually hated the Underground. It was loud, dirty and lit with headache inducing artificial lighting, but she knew her little cousin was always excited for the opportunity to try something that his parents disapproved of, so she opted for the city metro.
It was one stop and, realistically, a short walk.
Thankfully, there were lifts at Angel station. Sirius snatched his ticket from his cousin (and earned himself a stern glance), excitedly shoving it into the barrier and watching in delight as it was sucked in, then spit out again.
They stepped into the December chill and Andromeda breathed a sigh of relief. Sirius followed her down the road, trunk clacking loudly on the uneven paving slabs behind him. The four-storey brown houses loomed over him and he felt his good mood fizzle out like a damp firework. He tried not to look into the street level windows, but it was almost impossible to avert his gaze from the glimpses of family life inside. Cats at the windows, Christmas trees up, children eating lunch on the sofa. From front doors raised from street level by sets of wet stairs, women called down for acquaintances to come in, or for wilful and spoilt children to get out.
He thought of Remus running to hug his mother.
He was so jealous he felt sick.
Andromeda must have read his mind. She slowed down so they were side-by-side again and reached out to give him a brief one armed hug.
His eyes weren’t wet.
Just as the drizzle started, they arrived. Just like each dwelling on the streets before this, the house towered over them, the windows scrutinising the pair as they dragged their luggage up the steps. Andromeda knocked boldly and Sirius tucked himself slightly behind her.
The door swung open to reveal a dark entryway and no one behind it. Unphased, Andromeda let the way inside, leaving her trunk in the tiled entrance and motioning for Sirius to do the same.
The dusty air was familiar, but somewhat claustrophobic to Sirius. His eyes adjusted to the windowless corridor and he saw a faint glow of light from under one of the far doors. Someone was in the library - likely his father, or Regulus.
“Upstairs.”
A disembodied, commanding voice that Sirius knew too well rang out, magically projected into the dim hallway. He shivered. Andromeda turned to him and carefully smoothed down his hair from where it had frizzed a little in the damp London air.
“Come on, then.” She whispered, offering him a soft smile.
They climbed the stairs, the eyes of the portraits following them. Sirius was much more conscious of their gaze than he had been of the inhabitants of the Hogwarts paintings. On the first floor landing, a door clicked open and cast a watery yellow light onto the ground. Andromeda took the invitation and led her little cousin in.
As always, the curtains were drawn. A couple of sooty gas lamps affixed to the dark wallpaper offered enough light to see Walburga Black.
She was a frightening figure even without her turbulent personality. She stood nearly six foot tall, and cast in shadow, her severe face looked somewhat threatening. Sirius had never seen her long dark hair loose.
“Andromeda,” she acknowledged, curtly. Her reservations were plain in her tone. Her dark eyes found Sirius, standing in his cousin’s shadow as though it could shield him from his mother’s gaze.
“My son,” she stepped forward. “Get out from the shadow of the girl and stand properly like a man.”
Sirius obeyed and side-stepped out into the dim light. His mother’s scrutiny was something he was very familiar with, but he’d let himself relax in the past few months and now it felt more intense and judgemental than ever.
“Haven’t you any manners?” She asked cooly.
Sirius resisted glancing at his cousin for support and grit his teeth - careful not to let his expression change. Obediently, he stepped up to his mother and stiffly hugged her. There was as much affection in the exchange as if he’d hugged a chair. She smelled like the house - dark and stale, untouched by sunlight.
“Thank you for bringing him home,” Walburga inclined her head at Andromeda. “You’re dismissed.”
Andromeda briefly locked eyes with little Sirius, dwarfed by his mother, head turned away from her body so that he could silently wish his cousin goodbye through a curtain of dark hair.
The door clicked shut.
Sirius felt the body he held bend, and he dropped his arms. Walburga leaned in, her face only inches from his ear.
She sniffed.
“You smell like a filthy little muggle.”
Sirius pressed his lips tight together and said nothing. He met her eyes, a little defiantly.
“And you look like an unkempt little Gryffendor.”
Sirius held her gaze resolutely. You don’t frighten me .
Walburga took his wrist in her vice grip. Her hand was cold and dry.
“Come.” She instructed, as though he had a choice, and led him down the stairs, still gripping his arm.
“Kreacher!” She called into thin air. The house-elf appeared with a dramatic crack and bowed low before them.
“I’d be grateful if you could take Young Sirius’ belongings to his room.”
“At once, Mistress.” He croaked, side-eyeing Sirius as he rose from his bow. Sirius scowled at him openly.
Walburga pulled him along to the office and his father’s dour voice drifted from inside.
“Come in, Walburga, my son.” The door seemed to open of its own accord.
The perfect counter to his wife, Orion was a morose man with a slow, dull air. It wasn’t so incredible that they had managed to find each other, given that they were second cousins. Sirius often wondered if he would turn mad as an adult, the way many men of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families seemed to.
“It is good to see you again, son.” Orion’s face didn’t reflect his words. “We had expected some written correspondence, particularly for your brother’s birthday. I hope that you haven’t grown selfish while you were away.” Orion leaned forward and attempted an encouraging smile that was more a leer than anything. Sirius tried not to lean back. “Remember that you are, first and foremost, a Black. Family is everything.”
Sirius balled his fists as the memory of Remus running into his mother’s open arms flashed across his mind one more time.
“Yes, never mind what that hat has to say,” Walburga assured him. “Naturally, we were disappointed at first, but your father kindly reminded me, a Black is a Black. Something as trivial as a school sorting cannot undo your blood-right. You are the heir to this household and name. While it sickens me to think of you mixing with those filthy, badly bred delinquents , there are undoubtedly children of our once esteemed pure-blood kin who may benefit from your influence.”
Orion nodded. “Yes, this is, perhaps, the burden that only a strong child can bear. We will choose to see this as an opportunity, rather than a misfortune.” His eyes hardened and briefly the threat that was mostly unseen floated to the surface. “You’ll be sure to honour that, Son.”
Sirius felt he might’ve turned to stone - he hadn’t so much as twitched under his parents’ scrutiny. This was, perhaps, less combative than he’d predicted, but it was obvious one wrong move would change that. Best to do as little as possible.
The air was uncomfortable, and his parents let it linger between them for a solid minute before dismissing Sirius. He only relaxed once the door was safely between them.
His hand still on the door knob, he glanced to his right to see a small boy watching him from the gloom.
It’s one disappointed look after the other , he thought miserably. Regulus stepped forward and Sirius could see him more clearly. Just as he remembered, the curious, wide grey eyes, the neat, dark hair, the little, hesitant hands. And, most comfortingly, that earnest admiration for Big Brother .
Maybe one thing is salvageable .
“Hey Reg-”
As if his voice had broken the spell, Regulus sprung to life and wrapped his bony arms around Sirius. Against his chest, Sirius heard the little complaint; “I missed you!” before he was released. Regulus glanced nervously at the door their parents were behind, but luckily it seemed they were uninterested.
Sirius put a hand on his brother’s head and smiled down at him.
“I missed you too, Reg. Happy late birthday. I’m sorry.”
Regulus abruptly punched Sirius straight in the stomach then grinned at his doubled-over brother. “Don’t worry about it!” He assured. “We’re even now.”
Right.
Once he’d recovered, Regulus was already at the top of the stairs. “Come on, ” He hissed down at Sirius. “You owe me so many stories.”
How could he refuse?
Notes:
All the main gang will get their little Christmas chapters.
Looking forward to seeing you for Lily and Remus, next.
I remember my brother used to love navigating the Underground when he was little. We have a similar age-gap as the cousins, too.
Nobody cares, but Angel station did actually have lifts in 1971. I checked. :)
Chapter 13: 21st December 1971
Summary:
Lily is home for the holidays
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lily woke, expecting to see red curtains and dark wood, but was instead faced with a lilac wood-chipped wall and a sea of pink and white spotty bedding. It took a moment for her to realise that the unexpected smell was home.
In came the watery winter light from the window, the view obscured by condensation. Lily scraped her flyaways out of her face and took in the room. It was little more than a box room (the curse of the youngest child), with one sloppily painted lilac wall standing out from the white. She and Petunia had painted it with some help from their mother a few years ago. The cutting in was dire but she’d never cared. Behind the open door stood a low bookcase topped with trinkets. On the shelves, amongst her bedtime stories, were all her old school books. How absurd.
If it wasn’t for the trunk large enough to contain a small child sitting in the middle of the room, it could have easily been a dream.
She wasn’t sure why her chest felt achy. She realised that her eyes were wet and Lily scrubbed the tears away before they dared to fall. She felt like she was looking in through the window and aching with grief for the life she’d had before.
I wonder if this is how it feels to be a ghost?
Three dull, quiet knocks surprised her and the ache grew into a painful kind of joy.
An invitation to come away from the window and join in.
She knocked back.
And so, like it always had been, as though nothing had changed, Petunia slipped into her bedroom and silently closed the door behind her. She was in her dressing gown and her long brown hair just as fuzzy as her younger sisters’.
“Just like old times?” Lily said, looking up at her sister hopefully. Petunia rolled her eyes.
“You’re so intense for a littl’un. These are the old times, you dolt. You’re eleven.”
Lily snorted and moved to sit up properly, wrapping her quilt around her so there was room for Petunia. Trust her big sister to put her in her place when she was getting carried away. Petunia took the seat, yawning loudly. The small clock on the bedside table read 08:17.
They looked off into the middle distance for a while in sleepy companionship as the sun crept higher. As Lily’s head began to nod, Petunia seemed to wake up a little and startled her little sister with an abrupt elbow to the ribs. Lily stifled a squeak.
“ What !?”
“I forgot to tell you!” Petunia whispered. She got up onto her knees on the bed, facing Lily. Her pale face shone in delight. “I know what I’m getting for Christmas!”
Lily raised her eyebrows, amused. “I thought you said only impatient babies peeked?”
Petunia waved this away and carried on. “I wasn’t peeking, they left it out - anyway, you’re not gonna believe it!”
“Just tell me then!” huffed Lily, but the corners of her lips were twitching.
“It’s a record player!” Petunia’s voice could almost be described as a squeal. A far cry from the cool and aloof girl she fancied herself as when they had been at school together. But this excited, fizzy Petunia was someone Lily was quite familiar with. The same Petunia who had proudly led her wobbly little sister around showing her all the fun things in the world.
Lily pushed the fleeting thought of Severus to the back of her mind.
“That’s really cool,” Lily said, but it wasn’t enough for Petunia.
“‘That’s really cool’ Christ, Lily, it’s more than cool.”
Lily shrugged and finally removed her cocoon of bedding to stand shivering beside the bed so she could rummage in her trunk for some clean clothes. She hadn’t even unpacked before she’d gone to bed last night.
“I do think it’s cool,” she assured.
“It’s just because you don’t know any cool music,” Petunia stated matter-of-factly. “Bet you’ll be even more behind now you’ve been away from civilisation for months, too. I’ll sort you out.”
Lily let Petunia rant while she dug deeper into her trunk before she finally pulled out a small brown paper bag.
“Got you an early Christmas present,” Lily said quietly, offering Petunia the parcel. She tried not to look too timid. After all, it was “just like old times”.
“Er… thanks, but shouldn’t I wait?” Petunia took the package, but didn’t open it.
Lily shook her head. She needed Petunia to open it, before her nerve left her. “No, it’s special, you have to open it now.”
Petunia raised her eyebrows, but opened the bag obediently. A light brown box the size of her palm dropped out. Lily nibbled the skin on her lip nervously. God, I hope she doesn’t hate it .
~ * ~
“Professor?”
She’d shaken off Severus with the promise to find him at lunch - even though he’d scowled at her for keeping secrets, this was private. He’d make fun of her.
“Yes, Miss Evans?” Slughorn turned to face her from vanishing some plant cuttings that had spilled onto the floor during their class. He smiled benignly down at her. She’d just have to push down the embarrassment.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I was wondering if you could help me… make something? Only Mary said you’d be the best person to ask - she said you’d be good at ‘that kind of magic’.”
The professor raised his eyebrows and glanced to the door before pulling out a stool and sitting down, facing her. “That depends on what you want help with.”
Lily opened her hand and showed her teacher the little wooden box. He took it from her and studied it. Though his hands dwarfed hers, he was quite gentle as he prised the lid open. He frowned, seemingly trying to figure out what he was seeing inside before laughing delightedly and handing it back to her.
“Is that a headframe and winding wheel?” he asked her. She nodded. She could feel her ears going red.
“What an unusual thing for an eleven year old witch to transfigure. I assume you transfigured this?”
“Yes, McGonagall showed us how to make ornaments from wood. So I used that spell.”
Slughorn ‘hmmed’ and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Very impressive of you to make the hinge joint for the lid and I assume the wheel can spin?” She nodded.
“You are a very clever little witch, I think.”
Lily didn’t look at him, instead at the little box in her hands. Once he realised that the compliment was going over her head, he changed tacts.
“So, what is it you want help with? You’ve done a fantastic job of it already. A Christmas present for your parents, I presume?”
“It’s for my big sister.”
“I would surely remember an older Evans, usually my memory is quite good. What house-”
“She’s not a witch, Sir.”
“Ah yes, you’re muggle-born, aren’t you, Evans?”
Lily looked up at him defiantly. This had been why she’d been concerned about going to the Slytherin head of house for the matter. This blood nonsense again.
“Is it a problem?” she asked, her voice a little defiant. Lily’s mouth was a hard line and she stared right at Slughorn. To her shock, he laughed again.
“You are a funny little girl, Lily. No need to look so tough. I don’t play into that nonsense. Now, tell me what you want to do to this box.”
She flushed again, embarrassed at the misguided disrespect she had shown her teacher, but he seemed unbothered. “I like the way the pictures move around here. Severus said it was to do with memories. I asked him if it was possible to make anything have memories, but he said he didn’t know.”
“You want to put a memory in the box?” He asked, bemused.
“Er.. not quite. I want to make a music box. But not with the wind-up thing. Like, can I make it play a memory?”
The professor sighed and glanced at the clock.
“I am more than happy to explain this to you in more detail, but it will take a bit of time. Mind if we talk more over lunch in my study?”
Lily was a little taken aback. She’d never been in any of the teacher’s studies before. The only times she’d been in teachers’ offices in her old school was if she’d been in trouble. She remembered that she was supposed to meet Severus for lunch, but he would have to be disappointed.
“Er… yes Sir, thank you.”
“Not a problem, Evans. Follow me.”
Obediently, she followed the Potions Master to a small door at the back of the classroom that she had barely noticed before. Behind all the shelves and his desk at the front, it was almost hidden by shadow. He held the door open and she stepped inside, a little nervous.
The room was long and had a low ceiling like the rest of the dungeons. At the far end, she could see a large cauldron, over an empty fire in the hearth. The fireplace was surrounded by shelves holding an assortment of jars and boxes. Nearer them was a small table with one, comfortable looking chair. Slughorn closed the door and conjured an identical one and gestured for Lily to sit. She did, putting her school bag down beside her. Her feet didn’t touch the ground.
“Now then,” said Slughorn, sitting himself down across the table from her. “About memories.”
“Yes.”
He flicked his wand silently and Lily watched as a gleaming case, the size of one of her school books, came floating gently towards them. Slughorn took it from the air and placed it on the desk between them.
“If we are going to discuss memories, in a magical sense, I must show you this. Of course, the Headmaster has a much more ornate affair which I believe belongs to the office itself, but for my needs, this does the trick.
He opened the case to reveal a dark green velvet-like material holding snugly four small vials, one in each corner and in the centre a small metal dish about the size of a saucer. Lily sat on her knees so that she could lean further onto the table for a better look.
“This is a pensieve. It’s a magical device which allows a witch or wizard to deposit a memory to view at their leisure. As you can see,” he took one of the vials and held it up to the light, “a wizard may create a copy, or remove entirely, a memory and place it in a separate container.”
Lily stared at the vial. The words she was hearing seemed to be being processed very slowly by her brain. She watched the silvery liquid shimmer behind the glass.
“You mean… that’s a memory?”
“Indeed.” Agreed Slughorn, replacing it onto the case. “Now, let me show you something else.”
Lily watched, amazed, as the professor put his wand to his temple and withdrew it, slowly. It seemed like a single grey hair was clinging to the tip, but when it broke off she realised it was a thin strand of the same mystery material that was shimmering in the vial. Slughorn lowered his wand over the metal saucer and the strand came to rest in the dish. It seemed to change from a thread to a liquid and inexplicably filled the shallow dish with much more matter than he seemed to have placed in it. Finally, Slughorn tapped it with his wand and, bizarrely, it seemed to create some reverse ripple, where the surface stilled and became as clear as glass. Lily leaned forward further still to see. Predictably, she saw her own face looking back at her.
Then her reflection spoke.
“... I was wondering if you could help me… make something…?”
Lily looked from the not-reflection to her professor and back again. “ How ?” she whispered, mainly to herself.
He smiled and replaced the memory into his own head. “Don’t you remember saying that to me just now?”
“Er… yes. Yes Sir.”
“Well, that is my memory.” He said, simply, sitting back in his seat. He had an unusual expression on his face and it took Lily a moment to realise it was the same look Petunia sometimes had - that pleased look when she had shown her little sister something impressive.
“Right…” Lily took a breath and reminded herself not to get derailed into the forest of questions she had about memories. “But, my sister doesn’t have a wand, and my box isn’t a… whatever you said that is-”
“A pensieve.”
“Yes, a pensieve. So how can I get it to play a memory?”
“Well, this is a memory in its purest form - besides what’s in your head, of course - but in the magical world, we use weaker - or rather more appropriately dosed - forms of memory to imbue certain artefacts with the likeness of their depiction. For instance, some photographs move with the emotion and personality captured in the moment the image was taken. More powerful than that are the Hogwarts portraits, which maintain the mannerisms and voice of the person they depict. Wizarding radios do exist, but before we were able to modify that muggle technology for our uses, we have created various ways to imbue our voice into objects.”
He sighed and continued. “The magic itself is quite complicated and, as gifted as I’m sure you are, it would not only be exceedingly difficult, but also a touch dangerous for me to attempt to teach you it.”
Lily sat back in her chair, a little dejected. “That’s okay sir, thank you.”
“Of course, you’re quite welcome. Now, while I won’t teach you the spell, young and inexperienced as you are, I can help you to make your music box, if you’d be happy for me to extract the memory?”
Lily raised her eyebrows in surprise. McGonagall certainly wouldn’t have done the spell for her. She supposed Mary had been right. She tried not to think about how squeamish the phrase ‘extract the memory’ made her feel as she agreed.
~ * ~
The box clicked open in Petunia’s hands and she looked, bemusedly at the tiny wooden structure inside. Just as she opened her mouth to question it, the wheel began to turn slowly and the sound of two out-of-tune, childish voices singing, punctuated by giggling, came from seemingly nowhere.
“Going up to the spirit in the sky!”
“That’s where I’m gonna go when I die!”
“When I die and they lay me to rest, I’m gonna go to the place that’s the best. ”
Petunia closed the lid and cut off the singing. She looked at Lily, astonished.
“Is that… That’s us, last Christmas, right?” she asked, eyebrows still hidden up under her fringe.
“Er.. Yes. I thought… I hope it’s not too… freaky?”
Petunia looked down at the closed box again. “It is a little freaky,” she said, quite neutrally. “But it’s still quite cool.” She smiled up at her younger sister. “Thanks, I like it.”
Lily’s lip wobbled and before she could stop herself, her cheeks were wet.
“What are you crying for?” Petunia asked, a little bluntly. “I really do like it! You have to admit it’s a little bit freaky.”
Lily laughed through the tears. “Yeah, it’s really freaky. It was freaky when I was making it!”
“Well then what’s the crying for!?”
Lily clambered onto the bed next to her and hugged her sister. Petunia patted her head awkwardly. “You’re being so weird.”
“I’m just relieved!” Lily told her, though most of it was muffled into Petunia’s dressing gown.
“Yeah well, thanks, I do like it. I don’t remember us sounding that terrible, though.”
Lily laughed again, and turned her face so she could speak clearly. “Yeah, we were terrible. And Mum and Dad were going on as if we were really good.”
“I thought it was the best performance we’d ever done. We dressed up and everything.”
“Yeah, and we did the curtains, too!” Lily reminisced, smiling fondly.
“You tripped on the curtain.” Petunia snarked.
“We should do another one, for old times’ sake.” Lily suggested. “If you get your record player.”
Petunia sighed, but put her arm around her little sister.
“There you go again with the ‘old times’ sake’ - it was last year!”
~ * ~
Soon enough, the girls were dressed and sitting at the kitchen table while their mother made eggy bread on the stove. Petunia was dutifully filling her sister in on all the high school gossip that she’d missed out on and who had been in trouble for what. Petunia had an endless memory for other people’s business and was quite impressive when it came to remembering who was whose brother and who was dating who. Mrs Evans was listening while trying not to roll her eyes at the pre-pubescent drama.
“And your little boyfriend Ben was after you again. Didn’t you write to him? He keeps pestering me about you.”
Mrs Evans ‘ooo’ed cheekily and laughed at Lily’s scowl.
“He’s my friend! And I did write to him!” Lily objected, “Didn’t you give him my letter?”
“Of course we did, Petunia took it to school, didn’t you, Pet?”
Petunia nodded. “Yep. And now he’s after me all the time asking if I can send a message for him, or if I have a reply for him. I feel like a carrier pigeon.” Lily could see her barely contained smirk which betrayed that Petunia loved to be in the middle of this potential slice of gossip.
“Well anyway, from what you were telling me about those boys at your school, you’d probably be better off with Ben-”
“I’m not better off with anyone!” Lily interrupted incredulously. “I’m eleven!”
Mrs Evans snorted audibly as she plated up their breakfast.
“Thanks,” said Petunia dryly. “I love snot with my eggy bread.”
~ * ~
Lily waved goodbye to her mother and sister before setting out into the wet streets. Petunia, quite dramatically, told her she’d rather die than go out for no reason in the weather, so she’d take the trip alone.
The streets were nearly empty. Children were off school, but with adults still working, the rows of terraced houses that lined the hilly streets had warm light shining through fuggy windows as Christmas preparations happened inside.
It wasn’t raining anymore, but Lily jumped around the pavement to avoid ruining her trainers in the puddles. The sky was resolutely grey.
To her left and her right, the rows of near identical houses stretched on, getting gradually bigger as they neared the top of the hill, where the wheel loomed on the horizon. She’d made the trip many times and walking the streets was so automatic, it was as though nothing had ever changed. Really, he didn’t live far from Severus’ family, but she didn’t make her usual stop by his house.
The front yard was small and paved, with plenty of small weeds fighting their way through the cracks. Old rusted tins of paint decorated the corners. The gate creaked when she made her way through to knock on the chipped door. The front curtains twitched at the sound of her knock and she could clearly hear the thunderous footsteps that it seemed only boys achieved on the stairs. The door was wrenched open and a round, beaming face met her.
Ben turned into the house and shouted down the hallway “I’M GOING OUT!” before slamming the door behind himself.
They stood there, grinning at each other. Ben broke the silence.
“Petunia told me you’d drop by. Thanks for coming!”
“Of course, I promised! And I missed you!”
They set off down the wet streets together, this time with less care for the puddles. They shoved each other, trying to get the other to soak their shoes and trousers.
“I’m so bored at big school, oh my God, Lily it’s so dull I don’t know how your sister does it. I was really counting on you coming through this year so I’d at least have someone to get up to something with during breaks! Now I have to make my own trouble and it’s not the same.”
Lily laughed apologetically. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Petunia was telling me about the trouble.”
“Your sister is such a grass.”
Lily shoved him and soon he had a soggy sock for his trouble.
“So what kind of weird boarding school is this, then? The kind where you can get up to any old nonsense or the kind where it’s full of posh swots and you have high tea or whatever.”
“Er… more the first. There’s definitely no high tea… But the teachers are really strict. Some of them are scary, to be honest. I know some of the boys in my year have been sneaking around at night but it wouldn’t be worth it to get caught. Our head of house, McGonagall-”
Finally, someone who could appreciate the weirdness. True, she couldn’t spill everything but here he was, the perfect person to explain the weird feeling of missing her own, old life, or how her sister’s jealousy was making her regret her choices. How she’d thought she had an ally in Severus, but they were barely together and she had to try and understand how all these weird, posh children did everything their own stupid, special way.
It was only once she was taking off her wet shoes in the entryway that she considered that Ben had barely had a chance to speak.
Notes:
Spirit in the Sky was released in 1969. I was torn between that and Want You Back, which was released in the same year and both make the UK top charts between 1969 and 1970, but in the end, I thought that 9 and 11 year olds mainly listen to music their parents like, and I thought that Spirit in the Sky was more the kind of song that your parents listen to, that’s just catchy enough for a child to like. I also didn’t really want a love song - since it was meant to be a moment for just the sisters and their relationship with each other. I also like the idea that Petunia might’ve kept it, and then, them innocently singing about not fearing death would add a kind of macabre sweetness.
Trying to describe nostalgia without using the word nostalgia is very difficult! I don’t think it’s a concept an 11 year old would really understand to describe - but Lily certainly feels it.
Pulling how magical portraits are made directly out of my arse - I hope you don’t mind.
Soooo, “Cokeworth” is not a real place in the UK, but it does imply that they grew up in one of the many old mining towns that Thatcher eventually obliterated. The area I’m from is made up of them and that big wheel and the slag heap characterise the horizons. (This is the “heap” that they keep playing on when they shouldn’t be…) I think when Lily is making something that reminds her of her home life, it would probably be playing in the streets in the shadow of the mining machinery as a wild unsupervised 60s/70s child lol.
Chapter 14: 22nd December 1971
Summary:
Remus and his mother are reunited
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Remus was delighted. He was wrapped in a throw blanket, snuggled on the sofa, dipping biscuits into a mug of tea. On the small TV, The Magic Roundabout played quietly, just audible over the stotting rain outside. His mother was curled comfortably on the other end of the sofa, leafing through a muggle newspaper. What more could he want? No full moon ‘til almost a week after Christmas, his dad had managed to get time off work and it seemed his mother had gone overboard with the Christmas snack stock-piling. The house was brimming with biscuits, nuts and oranges. Remus didn’t think he’d gone an hour without eating since arriving home.
Their little Christmas tree stood on top of a small chest in the bay window, to give it a bit more height, and underneath, an enchanted train set that Remus remembered admiring in a Diagon Alley shop window a few years ago chuffed around the base. They didn’t have many magical things in their house. The Lupins had moved several times in the past few years, favouring muggle towns over wizarding settlements simply because muggles were more likely to think they had a badly behaved dog than a werewolf son. It was easy enough to get away with. His mother was a primary school teacher - so there was always work - and Lyall didn’t need to worry about his commuting distance. He just needed a dark alleyway to apparate from.
Weirdly, he supposed they were the perfect family for him. Loving and willing enough to reschedule their entire social lives around the affliction of their child. Unbothered by blood politics and appearances enough to not reject and disown him. Content enough with the family they had that he didn’t hold them back from any ambitions.
Well, those were the things he told himself when he was in a good mood. He could only pray it was true.
He’d held his biscuit in the cup of tea for too long and it had broken off into the drink and disintegrated into sludge in the bottom. He abandoned the cup on the floor, a little disgusted.
“Hey,” Hope whispered, reaching out to poke Remus in the leg with her toe. He turned to see her smiling at him from around her paper.
“Yeah?” He whispered back.
“We missed you.”
Remus wanted to try and play it cool - it was hardly the first time she’d said it since he’d returned home a few days ago. But who would he be fooling? He’d missed them so much that he’d cried at the station (much to his embarrassment).
And so, he smiled softly back and flicked the blanket to cover her legs too.
“I missed you too.”
She put her paper down on the floor and sat up so she could huddle closer and give him a one-armed hug. Remus let her rest her chin on the top of his head. She still smelled like rain from her run to the corner shop earlier.
The TV was interrupted by static as the rain fell heavier than ever.
Hope hadn’t even realised she was asleep before she was jolted awake by the most horrifying sound she’d ever heard.
She was halfway down the corridor, heart hammering, before she’d even realised she was awake. Remus had screamed, she was sure. From behind the door ahead of her, she could hear a low rumble and high whimper.
And then another shriek. She only became aware of Lyall behind her when she felt him push roughly past her and slam the door open with his shoulder - ignoring the handle completely.
From behind him, she saw a sickening image. A huge wolf, the size of a grown man, crouched over on the floor of Remus’ bedroom. In its wide mouth, an obscenely small leg. And then the blood.
On the floor, on its fur, coating its teeth and dripping from the horrifying jaws, and worst of all, running down that one pale leg. A brutal kind of comprehension fell upon her with the tenderness of a brick as her eyes followed the bloody leg to the stained pyjamas on the tiny body, and landed on the wide-eyed, tear and bloodstained face of her child.
Lyall lunged forward. She could see his wand in his hand, but perhaps his senses had left him - she knew hers had. He charged at the creature, but it had already dropped its prey. The yellow eyes were brighter than the moonlight from the open window. The brightest thing in the room. It bared its teeth at her husband, and she was sure that adrenaline would make him fist-fight it if he had to, but she didn’t have time to look.
Crumpled on the bedroom floor, his blood turning the carpet beneath him black in the moonlight, was her five year old son. She tried not to look at his face. She knew he was wide-eyed, square-mouthed and keening pitifully with each wobbly breath. It would only make it harder to keep her head.
It was late summer, and the air was sickly warm and still. How convenient that the little pyjama shorts made it easier to assess the damage. The ankle was mangled, yes, but she could feel gruesomely warm blood flowing over her fingers and she felt further up for the source. Her eyes were almost useless.
Everything was bright red.
Lyall had turned on the light.
“It’s gone.” He gasped, dropping to his knees beside them. “Jesus Christ.”
She didn’t answer. She’d found it, her palm clamped over the gnarled bite-wound on his thigh. Her hands were slick. It felt like trying to hold back a river.
“Lyall, do something!” Over everything else, she could hear her heart thudding in her ears. Over the alarm of a disturbed car, over Lyall’s ragged breathing, over Remus’ whimpering sobbing. “Fix him, please!”
“It can’t be fixed.”
She heard it, but didn’t bother to process it. There was no time for unhelpful statements.
“Of course it can. Apparate us! Or give him a potion, or whatever it is, just do something!” Her teeth were gritted and she could taste salt in her mouth.
She could see, in the corner of her eye, Lyall pointlessly wiping the blood and tears from Remus’ face and smoothing his hair out of his eyes. “Magic can’t fix this. He’s gone.”
Hope wanted to hit him, but her hands were busy.
“So help me, then, Jesus Christ! Worry about the wolf when he’s not bleeding to death on the fucking floor!”
Perhaps it was the rudeness that awoke him. Snapped from his sad reverie, he seemed to take in the plain reality of the situation. Never mind the werewolf, never mind magic, never mind the politics.
The child was going to bleed to death on the floor.
“Right.” He agreed, standing abruptly. She could hear his footsteps thundering down the stairs as he ran for, hopefully, something to help, and stole a brave look at Remus.
He was still staring at her. His eyes were glassy and red.
“I’m so sorry, Mouse.” She whispered. “You’re so brave.”
He just blinked.
Footsteps on the stairs again. The room smelled like blood.
“This might help the bleeding, I’m not sure, but we’ll try, then I’ll apparate us. But we can’t go to Mungo’s.” Lyall uncorked a small bottle. His hands were shaking as he pushed hers out of the way. The liquid seemed to smoke on contact with the wound and Remus cried out again. He then pulled out what she thought was the cord for his dressing gown and tied it around Remus’ thigh before picking up the tshirt Remus had worn the day before from the floor and stuffing it over the wound. Remus retched, and sobbed and stared, hazel eyes wide.
“Let’s go.” Hope lifted Remus up as she stood to join him. He was heavy and limp, like a dead weight and his head lolled into the crook of her neck. She felt sick. Lyall gripped her bicep wordlessly and the familiar lurch vanished them from the bedroom.
Magic spat them out into the summer air in an alleyway and they hurried out onto the street illuminated by fluorescent light shining from the huge building. The automatic doors slid open at their approach and before they’d opened their mouths, a staff member must have pulled some buzzer and they were swarmed and he was gone.
Hope could only stare, dumbfounded at her empty, bloodied hands as commotion crashed around her. Someone was screaming.
“Ma?”
Wide, hazel eyes stared up at her and she retched.
Remus pulled away from her abruptly and she blinked dumbly at the awkward tangle of long, skinny limbs in front of her. Under the cuff of his trouser leg, she could see that familiar pale, bony ankle marred with shiny pink scars where six years ago Greyback had dragged him from his bed.
Oh.
“Sorry, Mouse,” she whispered, wiping her damp face with a shaking hand.
Remus scowled good-naturedly at the babyish nickname and shuffled back up to her to offer a graceless but reassuring hug. She returned it gratefully, pressing her face into his hair again.
That little boy, barely more than a baby, really, had barely left her side for six years. From that day, her life had been forced to bend around him in a way that she couldn't have forseen. The lies and half-truths she'd told, the worried nights on the muggle children's ward, watching the near fruitless attempts to knit the evil wound back together. Months off work, moving house (He wouldn't sleep in the bedroom, of course) away from her family and childhood friends. She'd slept on the floor by his bed, toted him into new jobs with her where he sat in the office down the hall, waiting. She drove him back to Pontypool several times a month to maintain his relationship with her parents. She'd never had another child.
Her whole life, for six years. Awoken by the nightmares in the early morning, hours of dedicated physiotherapy since magic was seemingly useless, evenings and weekends spent tutoring at the kitchen table after Remus cried and clung to her at the school gates in their new hometown.
And now all she'd have were glimpses, a few weeks here and there in the years where he'd grow from a twiggy, knobbly kneed eleven year old into a man.
How lucky she was to suffer this grief.
Notes:
*The Magic Roundabout really did air on the 22nd Dec 1971 on British TV- I checked.
I had a look at some other tellings of The Bite, just to see how others had imagined it. I was surprised to see a lot of Lyall hate. I’m not sure where that’s come from. I think his story’s a cool concept for a character.
I spent far too long trying to decide where in Wales they live. I’ve only been there a couple of times and don’t want to pretend to know how to describe it well enough so I just went vague. But I did have a quick look to see where a hospital that would be major enough for Lyall to have heard of it and that also had an A&E running in the 1960s and that ended up being Cardiff Royal, though I’m sure there are plenty of others. It’s a very cool looking building. Anyway, that had to place them nearby so I went with Pontypool.
Remus needed a pet name and I felt like Mouse was the kind of weird family nickname that you eventually get to from Remus.
Chapter 15: 23rd December 1971
Summary:
Severus tries to enjoy some solitude over Christmas.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The dormitory was still and quiet. Severus lay there on the four-poster for a while, just listening to the peaceful emptiness. The next two weeks stretched out ahead of him, blissfully empty of demands or responsibilities. The Slytherin common room and dormitories were deep under the (now frozen) lake and the windowless bedroom had the feeling of a lair of some burrowing creature. And here he was, snug and warm in the depths - it was more than he could have dreamed of.
It had taken no thought at all to put his name down to stay at Hogwarts. Why would he go back? Ever since he’d known about the school, he’d been waiting to arrive at his home. It would make no sense at all to take himself back to that dingy muggle house and spend the winter days roaming Cokeworth to avoid his dour-faced mother and thunderous father.
He had never been particularly attached to either of them. He mainly tried to forget that his father existed, which was difficult as he had a strange ability to fill any room with his presence and bend the feelings of anyone unfortunate enough to be near him to match his misery. His mother, he occasionally felt sorry for, but sometimes his sympathy ran dry and all he was left with was frustration. After all, he was only a child and had done everything he could to escape the misery - what foolishness bound her to the same existence? He certainly couldn’t think of anything.
And so, he’d been relieved to begin to build his new life in spite of the two of them.
He would take the infuriating, tangled mess of Slytherin blood politics any day over the miserable mundanity of his family life.
Finally meeting the day, he pushed the covers off and braced himself before his bare feet touched the cold stone floor. He raked his fingers through his hair to untangle it. It was getting a little long. Perhaps one of the older students would cut it for him.
He pottered about at a snail’s pace, delighting in the quiet bathroom where he could sit and soak, uninterrupted. He chose to wear his school robes despite the holidays, since his clothes from home only seemed to cause embarrassment. There was a certain ‘cared for’ quality to the other Slytherins which he couldn’t seem to mimic. He saw the same confident gaze and sure-footedness in James Potter and Sirius Black and it lit a smouldering jealous fury in him. He absently wondered if there was a spell he could learn which would restore his slightly greyed, second-hand garments to the rich black everyone else wore.
He was sure he had missed breakfast by the time he made it to the common room - but it wouldn’t be the first time.
Only a handful of Slytherins had opted to remain over the Christmas. The prefect, Lucius, had remained. Severus had heard him citing his duties as the reason at the end of term, but he had also seen him enjoying the solitude of the winter holidays to snog his equally white-blonde girlfriend out in the open and at any time of day. Looking up from one’s book in the common room these days was a terrible risk.
Though windowless, the Slytherin common room somehow maintained a degree of pleasant cosiness that the original architects of Hogwarts hadn’t seemed to bother attempting with the rest of the dungeon rooms. There was a low, wide fireplace with a gleaming marble surround that was centre-stage for an elegant combination of high-backed moss-green velvet armchairs, sofas and chaise longues. It was a far cry from Cokeworth.
Many small mahogany tables littered the back of the room nearer the portrait hole and several pin-boards hung from the walls - the only indication that the room belonged to a school and not some extravagant manor house.
Upon the board were sheets of parchment displaying sign-up forms for various clubs, notes detailing lost or stolen items with pleas for their return and, centre stage the sign up form for the Christmas holidays.
There were very few names.
At the top of the list (he’d been waiting eagerly for it’s appearance) was;
Severus Snape
In his company, listed below him in their own handwriting were;
Lucius Malfoy
Narcissa Black
Emmeline Fisher
Marshall Nott
He barely knew most of them, they were all several years older. Aside from their prefect (and the object of said prefect’s affections), he had no reason to know them. Something in the back of his mind told him that Nott was on the house Quidditch team, but he had never pretended to be interested in playing the sport.
It didn’t concern him that he had no friends amongst them. He had resigned himself to having no friends many years ago and, if it hadn’t been for the unlikely reciprocation of Lily Evans, things would have stayed that way. He was more than satisfied with his own company.
And so, he settled himself into the best seat in the house (usually always claimed by a NEWT student on their free period) with some library books that he’d collected to amuse himself with. Time to get creative with Professor Fairly’s Winter project.
The morning drew on, and Severus remained oblivious to it due to the lack of windows. Eventually the older Slytherins returned from breakfast and livened up the common room. He let the chatter wash over him for the most part, hunched as he was over his book, nose almost touching the page.
A large, freckled hand came to rest on the top of his head - startling him.
“Snape, isn’t it? You’re keen.”
Severus followed the hand up the thick, strong arm all the way to the ruddy face of Marshall Nott.
He closed his book politely, but said nothing. Marshall was clearly considering him carefully. He had very striking grey-blue eyes, under unruly thick eyebrows and a red cheeked, freckled face. It was as if someone had been asked to create the opposite of Lucius Malfoy, who came to stand behind him.
“Leave Snape alone. I’ve heard he’s a good little student. I wish the same could be said about you.” Marshall whipped around at the insult and jabbed the prefect good-naturedly.
“We’ll see about that when the next Quidditch season is on. Then you’ll be screaming my name!”
Severus’ dark eyes watched them tease each other over the back of the chair. He’d almost thought they had moved on from him until he caught the gaze of Narcissa. She had a very blank face and her large eyes gave nothing away. He wished he could crack open her head like a book and read whatever was going on inside.
Severus broke her gaze and went pointedly back to his book, but he wasn’t really reading. His attention was more focused on the older students, who had settled at the other end of the room. Usually, the common room was so full of chatter, he wouldn’t be able to hear them from this distance. Since it was mostly empty, it was far too easy to follow their conversation.
“The little’uns are getting bold, ey?” Marshall’s voice still contained humour. “One of the firsties asked if they could join the tryouts - would you believe it?”
He thought he heard Lucius snort. “Wasn’t you, was it, Snape?” he called out. Severus glanced up, shook his head and went back to staring through his book.
“Christ, not that one. Wee Mulciber. Reckons he’s a big man, that kid.”
Severus remembered hearing his dorm-mate talking about the tryouts and ranting in the weeks after that he’d been denied the chance to show “his skill”. He’d mostly ignored the chatter. Rosier, Lestrange and Mulciber had their own group that he wasn’t interested in or invited to, for that matter.
“Watch out,” Narcissa warned mildly. “He might be a little first year, but his family are close with the Averys.”
“And what of it?” Marshall sounded indignant. Severus suspected what she was getting at. He’d heard plenty of bragging from the three other boys about their older siblings and cousins' escapades.
“Well, I heard from Bella that Avery’s Uncle was one of the originals. She suspects Mulciber’s father, too. Bella seems to think they’ll recruit through the youngers in the next few years. Wonder if you’ll get a calling.”
Marshall laughed. “I’m not accepting invitations from first years. Sounds like a fucking birthday party.”
“You’d be so lucky,” Lucius commented dryly. “I haven’t heard that The Dark Lord is recruiting beaters as of yet.”
“Shut up.”
Severus glanced at them from the corner or his eye. He could make out Lucius (with an arm around Narcissa as always) smirking at Nott teasingly.
“I, for one, know when to put age aside and recognise power and influence when I see it. It would be a shame if you were so blinded by your own self importance that you failed to respect an invitation from the Dark Lord himself. No matter how old the little runner may be.”
He heard a rustle and Severus thought Nott might’ve kicked Lucius.
“Stop talking like a prick. No one’s invited you anywhere, yet.”
“Really, now?” Severus knew that tone well enough to be able to picture his prefect’s smirk.
Nott choked. “You haven’t?”
“He hasn’t ,” Narcissa hissed. Severus suddenly felt the tingling of her eyes upon him and stiffened.
“Right,” Lucius conceded, collecting himself. “I’m just advising you, that’s all.”
Marshall muttered under his breath and Narcissa stood. “If you’re going to talk about this I suggest finding somewhere private ,” she whispered. “Little mud-blood lover over there hasn’t turned his page since we got here.”
Severus felt his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment and he snapped his book closed and gathered his things hurriedly, mumbling about needing to go to the library.
His ears were still burning even once the closed portrait was safely between himself and the NEWT students and he hurried down the corridor to the dungeon staircase before he stopped to think about where he was going.
Perhaps he should go to the library. After all, he had nothing really to do, other than homework and enjoy his solitude. He had just taken a step when he was interrupted yet again.
“Young Severus?”
He looked up to see his potions master and Head of House standing at the top of the stairs in front of him. Slughorn was looking pompous as ever in a green velvet smoking jacket and holding an unnecessary mahogany cane.
“Sir,” he acknowledged.
“I don’t think I saw you at breakfast, young man. Surely you didn’t miss it?”
“I wasn’t hungry, sir.” Severus took his foot down from the stair and looked uncomfortably back down the corridor. He felt trapped between the NEWT students and Slughorn when all he had wanted was to enjoy some uninterrupted time to himself without having to manage his mannerisms to appease anyone else for a change.
“Now that can’t be!” Slughorn contradicted. It infuriated Severus, but he didn’t comment. “A young lad like you! Say, when I was your age, I know I could have eaten as much as a working horse!” He paused. “Some may say that still today, I could do with cutting back on the sugar cubes…”
Severus was mostly ignoring him, trying to come up with a reasonable way to get out of this banal conversation.
“I’m sorry, Professor, I was just on my way to the library. I have a Christmas project to finish over the holidays.”
Unfortunately for him, this only seemed to stoke Slughorn’s fire. “Goodness, who could have hoped for such a dedicated student in their first year batch! Yes, quite right, my boy, get it out of the way before the festivities begin proper! And which subject is your project? I know I was not so cruel as to set my first years festive work!”
“Defence,” he mumbled, trying to hold back his annoyance.
“Goodness. Professor Fairly is a strict young woman.” Slughorn has begun to descend the stairs and Severus feared that there may be no escape. “And what terrible creature of the night has she deemed the subject of several feet of parchment?”
“Actually, it’s more of a practical thing,” he corrected. He could easily have lied, but a strange defensiveness had overcome him. He had heard plenty of derisive comments about Fairly floating around the Slytherin common room over the Autumn term and it annoyed him. It seemed that her style of dress had been a dead giveaway of her blood status and that had been all that was needed to turn her into an object of ridicule amongst most of the Slytherins. A strain of ridicule which had reminded him, unpleasantly, of the way Lucius chastised him about Lily.
Fairly was one of the only teachers who seemed to trust that they were capable enough to understand the theory that governed their magic, aside from McGonagall. Perhaps those such as Nott and Mulciber were too thick-headed to appreciate it. His vindication spurred him on.
“We’ve been learning spell roots and origins and how magic evolved from chanting to incantations - she’s asked us to research the origin of a spell of our choice. She said if we were good at it, one day we could invent a spell.”
Slughorn raised his eyebrows, somewhat amused. “My, my,” he commented benignly. “It seems she has tapped right into what makes you tick, dear boy.”
Severus couldn’t stop himself from narrowing his eyes, but Slughorn was undeterred.
“If you’d like to accompany me, I have something that might well interest you.”
Well, how could he refuse?
~ * ~
The professor’s office held an absurd array of unusual trinkets and dusty photographs, but it was to the bookcase that Severus was led. Slughorn wiped his large thumb along the dusty spines so as to read them better and finally extracted a thin paper-back volume that appeared hand-written.
“I trust that you are mature enough to return this to me exactly as it is now?” Slughorn prompted, pressing the book into his hands.
The Solution to Modern Spell-Writing was written unceremoniously on the cover of what seemed to be a standard school jotter. A neat signature of TMR could be made out in the bottom right.
“Why are you lending me this?” Severus asked bluntly. Slughorn laughed.
“I can see why you and Miss Evans are good friends.” He sat down and smiled at Severus’ blank face kindly.
“I can’t possibly see a young first year such as yourself so interested in something as complex and laborious as spell-crafting and not at least try and give them a leg-up. That book was written and kindly duplicated for me by a very gifted student several decades ago. There’s not much use I can glean from it these days. I may as well lend it to you and perhaps you can repay me with some house points for Slytherin when the next term arrives.”
Severus thumbed through the pages, glancing through the small, neat writing interspersed with small diagrams. He met the eyes of his professor for the first time since they had begun talking.
“Thank you, Sir. I’ll take good care of it.”
Notes:
Right. Firstly, apologies for the (what was it, 3 week) delay! Been a busy few weeks but very happy to finally be back on the ball with these chapters!
I can feel an autistic headcanon for Severus growing in the way I seem inclined to write him... Well, if it happens, it happens, I guess haha.
Trying to set up the marauders and snape's obsession for creating spells and doing advanced magic, and also for the doublethink of respecting certain muggleborns but also being inclined to join in on Death Eater antics. Fairly and Slughorn are a deadly combination for your average hogwarts nerd, I fear...
Some of the ages of the Slytherins are a little bullshitted, but to be honest, I don't think exact ages for any of them are stated in the books, just who they were at school with at the same time as (or likely to be) so any numbers must be from Rowlings notes or later publications... In Snapes' year, I've put
William Wilkes
Evan Rosier
Lennox Mulciber
Rabastan Lestrange
along with an OC female student in case I need one haha.This is mainly cos I think Lily does reference some of these guys in Snapes Memories, so I think it makes sense that they're in the same year.
Then I've put Avery Jr in 3rd year.
Thank you for reading! James is next! I've been looking forward to his! Then finally, Peter gets Christmas Day.
Chapter 16: 24th December 1971
Summary:
James spends Christmas Eve with his parents
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It hadn’t snowed yet.
The rain beat off the bay windows, scattering the streetlight and melting the colours of the world outside like an unfinished painting. Outside was wet and cold, but in that grand, sandstone house, behind the magnolia tree, it was warm and mellow. And what more could a person ask for, but for the soft light on the table before them, illuminating the wooden chess pieces on the board. What more could an old man ask for than the company of his wife, humouring his desires for games, and for music on the wireless and his requests for another slice of cake. What more could a father want than the long-awaited quiet after another day filled with chatter when their over-indulged and soft-at-heart son fell asleep on the carpet by the fire, book abandoned on the floor beside them.
“What’s that funny look on your face for?” Euphema asked, smirking at him. “I hope you’re not getting sentimental.”
Fleamont snorted and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Is an old man not allowed to get sentimental?”
His wife rolled her eyes and considered the board before them. “Do you want to give up?”
“I suppose I should, before I lose.”
“Yes,” She yawned and stretched. “Quit while you’re ahead, old man.” Euphemia offered him a cheeky look, then turned to James, on the floor.
“Looks comfy,” she commended, sarcastically.
“Oh, to be young, and boneless.” Fleamont flicked his wand casually and levitated James up onto the sofa, before having the book dog-ear itself and return to the shelf.
Euphema reset the board and returned it to the cabinet before pulling the curtains closed, shutting out the rainy evening. “It’s strange. I thought things would be different, but it’s like nothing ever changed.” She lowered the volume on the wireless and sat herself on the same sofa as James, careful not to disturb him, lest she curse them with another few hours of impenetrable monologuing.
“It’s not a long time, really. Eleven years and then only a brief glance at them for several months out of the year before they’re a man.”
“I thought I was the sentimental one,” Fleamont accused, dryly. “Goodness knows if it wasn’t for boarding school, that child would be so spoilt that he wouldn’t be able to carry his own head.”
“It’s your huge head he inherited.”
Fleamont dropped his head to the table. “And however would my poor withered neck carry it from room to room if not for the assistance of my long suffering scaffold of a wife?”
“And your ridiculousness.” She added.
“It’s strong in the Potter line,” he said, apologetically, still smiling.
And so they amused each other, in the cosy little sitting room, and life was just as she’d said it would be. The lucky old man and his brilliant wife, worryless and kind, unburdened by the politics of muggles or wizards in the sandstone four-storey in Stow on the Wold, where the men were fools and the women were bold, so they said. A home, gold, an heir and a blessed little life without a care. He often thought of that old Potter, in his garden with his plants, a wise old fool. What a pleasant fate.
~ * ~
Of course, it was easy to be delighted by your domestic life when your child was asleep.
“Mum? Dad?” Fleamont’s eye cracked open at his hiss and he groaned. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the armchair downstairs, and yet here he was, crick in his neck and cramp in his legs. He sat up.
“James?”
“Is it Christmas yet?”
If he’d been more awake, he would have laughed.
“James, it’s only,” he checked his watch. “Half eleven.”
The boy pouted. Framed in the doorway by the dim hallway light, his face was barely distinguishable. Sleep certainly hadn’t tamed his hair. He stepped into the room proper, barefoot on the carpet, and crawled up onto the footstool to join him.
“Why are you asleep down here?” he yawned.
“Why do any of us do anything, James,” he answered blandly, stretching his legs. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Why do any of us do anything?” The retort was cheeky, but without any malice. He smiled up at his father, eyes gritty with sleep and unfocussed without the glasses.
They sat in companionable silence for a short while, James leaning against his fathers’ legs, Fleamont silently willing said legs not to fall asleep under his son’s weight.
“What were your friends like in school?” James asked, abruptly. Fleamont raised an eyebrow, though James couldn’t see his face. James asked plenty of questions about Hogwarts and about the wizarding world, but he’d never asked about friends before.
“Hmm… well I had a few different friends over the years,” Fleamont offered, evasively.
“Yes, but who was your best friend?” James insisted.
Flemont thought for a while. “Well, I suppose if you asked me now, it’d be hard for me to choose, but I suppose at the time my best friend was someone called Eilis. She was in the year above me, so I was devastated when she left me behind in seventh year.”
“Your best friend was a girl?” James asked, incredulously. His father snorted.
“What’s the matter, have you not met one yet?”
“No, just, they’re fine, but what about the boys in your dorm? The Gryffendor girls are fine, but I just see my dorm-mates more - y’know?”
“I suppose. The thing is, I was blessed with a ridiculous name and rather cruel dorm-mates, so I had to look elsewhere. Besides, there’s nothing to say you shouldn’t branch out. The opposite, in fact. When else in your life would you have the opportunity to meet so many different children from all around the country? I’m sure Sirius, Remus and Peter are delightful, but you’d do well to talk with some of the other students, too.”
James ‘hmm’ed placatingly and Fleamont had the impression that this had washed over his head completely.
“So, who is your best friend?” Fleamont asked, guessing that what James actually wanted to do was talk about his own dorm-mates.
“Sirius, obviously,” he answered immediately. (It seemed he’d assumed correctly). “He’s the best person I’ve ever met.”
“I’ll choose not to take that personally,” muttered Fleamont. James ignored him.
“But, before we left for Christmas, he was really weird with me. Everything was fine, then he didn’t want to talk to me any more.”
Fleamont scratched his beard absently. Who was he to fathom the mind of an unknown eleven-year-old?
“Well, did you say something rude to him?"
“Of course not!” James turned to look at him, indignantly. “And anyway, if I was rude to him, then I’d know why he wasn’t talking to me. It’s like it came out of nowhere.”
As much as Fleamont hated to admit it, James wasn’t the most introspective and considerate child that he’d ever known, so he decided to humour this uncharacteristic concern he was showing. Normally, if anyone had a problem with him, he’d simply brush it off and move on, untouched. Seemingly this Black child had poked some sensitive part of him (thank goodness someone had).
“Well, when did it start? Maybe he’s not upset with you, maybe you’re just noticing it because you’re his friend?”
James leaned his head back to rest on his father’s knees, thinking. “No, it’s definitely me. He’s mostly normal with everyone else… It started near the Christmas holidays.”
Fleamont hummed in thought. “Well, there’s your answer.”
“Well?” James encouraged him.
“Well, you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting that family, but I have, very briefly, and have heard much more. By any chance does your friend talk much about his family?"
“He never writes to them. He doesn’t like them. He said they would have wanted him in Slytherin, and that it’s okay to keep secrets…” James paused to think if he could remember anything else. “Oh and that they would hate me,” he finished, proudly. Fleamont laughed.
“Yes, I fear that’s accurate. Well, Silly Jimmy, your friend is feeling a little resentful, I’d wager.”
“Like, jealous?”
“Close enough. I’m doubting he’s having such a cosy and welcoming experience as you are, my lad.”
James was silent for an uncharacteristically long while, before Fleamont could have sworn he’d heard him sniff, wetly.
“I should have stayed at Hogwarts…”
It wasn’t that James was an unkind child. He was polite, bright, sunny and forgiving, but Fleamont wasn’t blind to his flaws. Certainly he could be accused of being hard-headed and single-minded, and it led to the frequent impression that he was uncaring, or thoughtless. And it wasn’t that Fleamont didn’t know that this was an unfair conclusion. It was simply that, having lived with only his memory of the boy for the last three months, he had forgotten some details. He sighed and placed a hand on his son’s head, prompting him to look around and meet his eyes.
As he’d thought, they looked a little wet. James accepted the silent invitation for a hug, despite the cramped chair.
If they’d been under the light of day, he knew his son would have insisted he was far too old.
Notes:
Wee cutesy chapter for JimJam.
I’m already such a sentimental person who longs for and cherishes memories and cosy family moments. There was no need for me to also listen to Damien Rice and Ray LaMontagne while writing this - top tier nostalgia fodder.
I’m sorry but it’s (head)canon that James Potter’s head is both metaphorically and literally massive.
Double update to make up for the delay ;)A child in a group I was running a sports club with once proudly proclaimed "I've had a tender thought!" and that is the most James Potter shit I've ever heard
Chapter 17: 25th December 1971
Summary:
Peter enjoys a sleepy Christmas with his family
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Pettigrew family was an unusual one.
Unlike most wizarding families, they chose to live with muggles, moving away from their magical relatives and integrating entirely in muggle culture. Jane and Conor Pettigrew’s wands often collected dust on the mantelpiece and it had been many years since they had stepped into somewhere such as Diagon Alley or The Hog’s Head.
On the fifth birthday of their second son, Liam, Jane took up a part time post as a waitress in a cafe in town. With two children who, as yet appeared to show no magical ability at all, they had made the unusual decision to enrol them in muggle school. After all, what was the worst that could happen? What would be so terrible if they showed some magic at a later age than most - at least they would benefit from a formal education.
And it had been somewhat of an adventure. The two of them, together, forging out a life for their small family in this mirrorworld. And then came the third son, who would continue as his brothers had. Excellent boys, despite the lack of magic, no parent could complain that they were unremarkable. Patrick, tall and handsome, large, gentle hands surely made for making music. They spent their first decade as parents at many primary school violin or piano performances, beaming with pride. Then came Liam, cheeky and bright. Troublesomely intelligent, an endless ream of letters home, chastising for impudence but always accompanied by an undeniable set of straight As.
And then Fionn, the adored white-haired baby of the family, always running after his older brothers. The kindest and sweetest, always with a box full of “pet” snails, or else a hotel of woodlice. Not a spark of magic in him, but delightful nonetheless.
Besides, at that point, they had stopped waiting for it. Their little life was perfect.
It was only by chance that the fourth came along. And it was only by chance that Conor had taken a new job and so the fourth would even come to stay.
Madness to think that they had considered their life complete before the fourth.
And the fourth revealed the lack.
When he cried, the lights flickered. When he laughed, the windchimes clinked. They didn’t dare think too hard about it, and sent him to school with the others, anyway.
But the lack grew, and grew. Things were not complete, were they?
Homework vanished, sweets appeared in the shopping trolley at checkout, the cassette player skipped his least favourite songs.
And at night, Jane and Conor began to talk about how things used to be, for the first time in years. The fourth twitched the curtain and reminded them of the life they’d left behind.
Surely, they could have both?
Things began to change in the Pettigrew household. Every now and again, an owl would drop off an unusual newspaper with moving pictures. For the first time, their radio was used to its full capacity and dialled into the Wizarding Wireless Network. Occasionally, because it was easier, they lit the living room fire by magic, instead.
It became clear, after another six or seven years had passed, that the magical world wasn’t something that would accept an attitude of one foot in and one foot out. Suddenly, doing the school run and helping with chemistry homework seemed awfully mundane. Especially with the promise of reminiscing about potions lessons and departing on the Hogwarts Express in the near future. And it was impossible for gentle Patrick and bright Liam and kind Fionn not to realise that no accomplishment would ever live up to whatever gift Peter had been blessed with which allowed their parents to bring their magical adolescence back.
How could they expect their parents to be content with the mundane now that the magical had been offered?
A bitter trench opened up, separating them. Some days, they were almost toe-to-toe, as though nothing had changed, and others, it was as though an ocean separated them.
And worst of all, there was nothing remarkable about the fourth boy.
Blond haired, wide blue eyes, and smattered with freckles just like his brothers. He was pleasant, but forgettable. Quiet and shy. No extraordinary talent for music, or for study, even for humour. And unbeknownst to him or his brothers, no extraordinary magical talent when compared to the calibre of students who would join him at Hogwarts that year.
The fourth discovered that September that not only was he not mundane enough to fit in with his siblings, but he was barely talented enough to keep up with his classmates. And so he settled in between two insurmountable cliffs of disappointment.
Thank goodness for Remus and his endless patience that he had something to gift his parents which would assure them that he could, actually do some magic.
The chess set (green and white with little jade pieces) sat proudly on the coffee table in his grandmother’s front room, the centrepiece of that evening as they sat, munching on cheese and crackers and blankly listening to carol singing on the radio. They had all eaten far too much and his father was already asleep with his head at a horrid angle, drooling a little.
It was only about seven in the evening, but Peter’s eyelids were drooping, too. Something about the excitement of Christmas Day, he supposed. There were still recently opened cards sitting on the inside windowsill and neat stacks of books and games around the tree, waiting for their new owners to carry them to their homes that night.
“Shall we test it out, then?” asked Patrick to no one in particular, launching himself off the sofa as though it had taken a great effort. Peter absently admired how tall he stool and wondered when he would encounter that growth spurt.
“I’ll give you a game.” Offered Fionn, slipping off the sofa next to Peter to sit, cross legged, on the floor across the coffee table from Patrick. Peter took the opportunity to lie curled with his head on the arm so he could watch the game with sleepy eyes.
“You did quite a good job of these, Pete,” said Fionn, squinting at one of the tiny bishops. Peter smiled his appreciation from his comfy spot. It had been a good day. He’d been worried that Christmas would have been the perfect fodder for the trench between him and his brothers to be at its all-time widest. His recent return from Hogwarts with spellbooks, a wand, stories about the castle and his magical friends were all perfect, dangerous catalysts - but he’d tried his best to keep the peace. It had been exhausting, but worth it.
“Of course he did a good job,” his mother chimed in, smiling proudly at Peter. “He’ll be a grand young wizard in no time, just you watch.” She was too chuffed to notice Pat rolling his eyes at the pride, but he smiled good naturedly and took his first move.
Peter woke up to someone patting him on the shoulder. His neck was sore, legs cramped and his cheek was sweaty. The room was dark and empty, apart from himself and his father, standing in the dark, silhouetted by the hallway lamp.
“C’mon up then, Pete,” his dad said, offering him a hand to pull himself up. “You’re too old to be carried to bed these days.”
Peter could hear the smile in his voice. He took the hand and allowed himself to be tugged into a one-armed hug. The smell of cooking meat lingered on his clothes from preparing dinner earlier. He had missed his dad.
“You’re a good boy, Pete,” he said fondly. He might as well have kissed him and said he loved him, the way Peter flushed and smiled at the ground. His new camera was pressed into his hands and his dad took the books, games and sweets he’d acquired and helped him up the stairs with them.
“See if you can’t get Slughorn to show you how to make the developer additive that makes them move. But it’d be grand to have a few photos to show your brothers, ey?”
“Yeh,” Peter agreed, silently thinking that he’d sooner eat the negatives then present his oldest brothers with moving pictures of the wizard school they would never be able to see. “It’d be really cool.”
He crept into the bedroom him and Fionn were sharing - the lump on the top bunk already snoring. He smiled goodnight at his dad and waited for the door to click closed softly, before going to admire his new camera by the dim streetlight outside the window.
He ran his fingers over the metal casing, admiring it. He’d never owned a camera before. In fact, he’d barely used one. He was excited to learn, though. None of his brothers had ever owned one and had no idea what to do other than point and click. It would be fun to have something that was just his. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that magic would ever be an impressive skill for him to wield .
Notes:
Apologies for the wait - this chapter made me lose my temper haha
I did not have fun writing it and had to completely re-do it twice :) In the end, I just had to save the most important points (the chess set, introduce some family, the camera) and call it a day because honestly I just don't think I have a great grasp on Peter's characterisation just yet.
I really wanted him to get a camera. We know there were pictures of the Marauders and Lily, and I thought it would be nice to make Peter the camera-man. And what's a 70s fic without a film camera and some record players?
Chapter 18: 1st January 1972
Summary:
The longest full moon of 1971 was on December 31st. 16 hours under the blue moon
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Hope was waiting at the door. She had been waiting at the door for an hour.
It had been a particularly long night, with the moon rising at 3pm last afternoon. At quarter to, she’d kissed her son on the head, told him she’d see him in the morning, and bolted the thick cellar hatch from the outside.
It was always impossible to sleep, during the full moon with Remus in the house. If the heart-wrenching sympathy hadn’t kept her awake, the noise would have. She remembered a much younger Remus locked in the bathroom for his first full moon. What a mistake that had been. They’d both sat vigil outside the door listening to the glass shower screen smash and the horrible scrabbling of claws on ceramic, unable to enter and fix things. Most of the morning was spent picking glass out of their five year old’s feet with tweezers.
The small cellar that was designed to house coal was what had sold them on this house.
The hatch was nestled in a small nook, in the hallway between the kitchen door and behind the staircase. Large enough to fit a broad-shouldered man, but still with the claustrophobic nature of having to lower yourself into a completely dark pit. They’d had the hatch door reinforced with flat iron bars, which had taken some fantastic on the spot fibbing on Lyall’s part. The fitter had been awfully suspicious of what they were planning to keep down there that needed iron bars and a thick, outside deadbolt.
The clicking on the wolf’s nails on the stone floor had stopped, as had the whining and occasional scrabbling at the door that usually marked the late hours of the transformation, but she couldn’t be sure. She could never be certain.
Lyall returned from the kitchen holding two cups of tea, gesturing that one was for her. He was still in pyjamas and looking a little haggard after a sleepless night on the living room sofa. She smiled in thanks and turned to the door again.
“You reckon it’s done?”
Lyall stepped into the sitting room, leaning low so he could inspect the winter sky before returning.
“It’s still cloudy, I can’t really tell. Heard anything?”
“Nothing for a good few minutes. I’m just gonna risk it.”
He shrugged his agreement and set the cups on the coffee table before returning to the hatch.
“Want me to go down?” he offered.
Hope drew back the bolt and Lyall pulled out his wand, flicking it as though to remove a fly from the end, wordlessly producing a softly glowing ball of light that hovered in the air between them.
“I’ll pass him up to you,” she said before heaving the hatch open and he sent the light down into the darkness after her.
The room was about the size of a generous cupboard, with a low ceiling that barely allowed her to stand upright. She could feel her hair catching on the exposed stone ceiling. It was bitingly cold down there. Completely underground as it was, any heat from the house seemed to seep out immediately. Her light was just bright enough to allow her to see, without blinding Remus who had spent the last 17 hours in absolute darkness. The Winter Solstice had only been last week, and this was the longest full moon of the year.
He was huddled in the corner, asleep and shivering.
“Mouse,” she whispered, crouching down next to him and giving his bare shoulder a little nudge. He was covered in goosebumps and the still air smelled like blood.
With a sleepy groan as the only reply, she heaved him up by the arms so she could carry him over to the hatch where Lyall was perched on the topmost stair, arms out, wand between his teeth.
“Ma, I’m up, I’m up.” Remus wiggled in her grip until his bare feet touched the ground. He rubbed at his face with one hand, balancing himself against Hope’s arm with the other. His voice was hoarse, but a night of screaming would do that.
“C’mere then,” Lyall called from around his wand and gestured for Remus to take his hand so he could pull him up the short, steep wooden staircase. Hope followed after them, sealing the hatch behind her.
In the sitting room, Remus wasted no time burrowing himself under the quilt Lyall had slept under that night. Hope accepted her tea and Remus gratefully took the other, warming his cold hands on the mug.
“What’s the damage, then, Rem?” Lyall asked through a yawn. He leaned over to wake up the radio for the comfort of fuzzy background chatter.
“Not that bad, considering. My mouth feels disgusting, so I think he was chewing at the staircase.”
“Better than your own legs, I suppose.” Hope took one of Remus’ hands and pulled a washing-up bowl Lyall had filled with warm water and TCP dunked it. Remus hissed.
“Sorry Hen,” Hope took the strange paste that St Mungo’s had sent them a few weeks before the end of term and diligently spread it over the bite marks. “So, this stuff works, then?”
Remus shrugged. “It works alright. I don’t think it actually makes them heal any faster, but it hurts less so that’s nice.”
Remus felt a little embarrassed, sitting between his parents on the sofa, wearing nothing but the cocoon of a quilt while his mother carefully tended to all the bites as though he were a toddler, but he didn’t argue. It was quite nice to be back, being cared for by people that he actually knew.
“Mungo’s wrote to say they’re going to lay off you for a few months,” Lyall said. “They were going to do a formal write-up of last term, and thought you might like a break.”
Remus hummed thoughtfully. “I didn’t really mind it.” He confessed. “It was nice to have someone around. And it was nice to sleep through it, too. Hardy any new bites, that way.”
They lapsed into a well practised silence, having been here many times before. Remus eventually fell asleep against Lyall’s shoulder, essentially trapping him on the sofa under him. The fuzzy voices on the radio and the warm weight of someone leaning against him had a definite soporific effect that had his eyelids drooping too.
“I was right, about the muggle thing,” Hope commended. “I never expected them to take it that seriously, but…”
Lyall considered her, thoughtfully. “You’re generally right about that sort of thing.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I didn’t even consider it, remember. I thought it was all over. Lucky you have a sensible head on you.”
Hope tried not to think too much about how things might’ve gone that night if she hadn’t been so insistent on trying the last thing that would be likely to work. Who would have thought that muggles could do anything in the face of a werewolf.
“Do you think they’ll actually find something?”
Lyall was thoughtful. Often, he found it most reasonable to consider the worst case scenario and work backwards from that - after all, it would be hard to be surprised by a terrible turn of events that way. But he hadn’t married Hope for nothing. And she was right, there were things that could be done using muggle medicine, apparently. And now with a small team at Mungo’s willing to humour it… well, it was possible.
He cast his mind back to the long days at Cardiff Royal, the two of them on edge between daring to hope that they would be able to at least patch him up enough to get through the night, but full of the sickening fear that they would endanger the staff, the children sharing their ward and the statute of secrecy by even daring to try and save him.
“I think they might. I don’t think they’ll be able to reverse it - it’s a curse, and famously, curses are almost impossible to break. But they seem to be excited about the possibilities. If they can make him safe - that would be better than we could have imagined.”
Hope smiled at his uncharacteristic optimism.
“Happy new year, by the way.”
Notes:
Well, that was much easier to write than the last chapter. I don’t know why I’m much more comfortable writing these other characters than I am Peter, considering they all have similar amounts of information about them, but hopefully it’ll get easier with time.
I tried to check if the weather was actually overcast on New Year’s morning, but I couldn’t find a weather record.
I was researching aconite and there are some interesting routes I can go down…
Back to school soon! And we're officially in 1972!
Chapter 19: 4th January 1972
Summary:
The Marauders are reunited - just a dorky little chapter.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
James Potter and his trunk fell onto Minerva McGonagall’s hearth rug, covered in soot.
“Hi Professor, Happy New Year!”
Minerva had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Of course, he would be first through.
“Thank you, Potter,” she said, tightly, vanishing the sooty marks from the floor and his robes before he could shake them all around the office. The fire flared again behind him and Euphemia Potter appeared, much more dignified, carrying a stack of papers and some bottles.
“James, you left your Defence homework!” she tittered, handing him the paper and then moving on to straightening his clothes.
“I’ve let you out of my sight for five seconds and you look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge again !” James tried to duck to avoid her but it was no use, she’d already locked his arm in a vice grip. McGonagall raised her eyebrows. Evidently Euphemia was well practised.
“Stand still, your hair’s a mess.”
“It’s fine !” James whinged, submitting to the fussing with a scowl. “You’re gonna make me look uncool.”
Euphemia stepped back to admire her handiwork and there was a cheeky kind of satisfaction that said she knew well and good that James looked… unlike himself.
Thankfully, there was no mirror in the office.
“What are you talking about, you look so much better.” Euphemia kissed James on the head so swiftly that he didn’t have time to try and avoid it. His face reddened and he side-eyed McGonagall, who was pointedly looking out the window.
“ Mum !” he hissed, “not in front of Professor McGonagall .”
“Oh please, James, Minerva knows I love you so much .” Euphemia’s face was almost wicked. James let out a choked little scream and pushed his mother back towards the fireplace.
“Oh my gosh, Mum, go home !”
“Right, right, see you at Easter.” She said cheerily, taking a handful of floo powder from the little tub on the mantle. “Happy New Year, Minerva! Good luck to you.”
Minerva snorted in spite of herself as Euphemia vanished out of the fireplace.
“Potter, move your trunk, please, lest one of your classmates come crashing into it.”
“Right, Professor.”
James obediently dragged his trunk across the room near the door and waited, absently stroking at his hair, trying to determine the damage.
McGonagall returned to her desk, half concentrating on reading the newspaper, half wondering how long the dithering first year could maintain the silence.
“Professor, has Sirius gotten back yet?”
That would be about thirty seconds, then.
“No, Potter, you’re first.”
“Ah.”
She went back to the paper, scanning the internal headlines for any hint of competent journalism that might’ve slipped through the cracks to inform the wizarding populace on the quiet rise of dark forces in Britain. James evidently hadn’t moved. She could feel him staring at the back of her head.
“Potter, don’t you have places to be?” she questioned, without looking up.
“Well, I just thought I’d wait for Sirius,” he explained.
“Would you please stand outside, then. You’re making my office look like a waiting room.”
“Okay, let him know I’m expecting him, please!” She heard the office door opening.
“Potter, I doubt he could miss you."
The door clicked shut.
Outside of McGonagall’s office was a pleasant stone corridor which looped on itself in a square, inside of which was the Transfiguration courtyard. Doors along the corridor led to various classrooms and storage cupboards, as well as back to the main castle staircase and out towards the grounds.
Huge stone arches gave James a view into the grassy square. There was no glass in the arches. It was freezing. He was secretly glad his mother had insisted on him wearing the woolly Christmas jumper. Even if it was bright green with a huge reindeer knitted into it.
A woosh and a thump could be heard from inside and James excitedly straightened and turned to face the doorway, however much to his disappointment, it was Suleiman and Mohammad Shafiq, Chaser and Prefect respectively. They waved at him cheerily before making their way towards the main staircase.
Next to disappoint him was Lily’s friend and fellow first year, Mary McDonald. She greeted him, smiling, blonde hair bobbing cheerily as she walked off.
Then a third year he didn’t know, along with the twins Gideon and Fabian, followed by two very tall seventh years who missed James entirely as he was completely out of their eye-line.
He had stopped standing to attention every time the door opened and so was surprised when someone excitedly called on him.
“James?”
It was Remus. He was wearing his thick Hogwarts cloak over his home clothes and holding his school bag which looked to be weighed down with books.
“Hi Remus. Had a good Christmas?”
“Yeah.” James had forgotten how soft spoken he was. “I guess I’d really missed my parents. It was nice to be home.
“But you’ve been home a few times this term, right?” James asked innocently. “How’s your mum, by the way?”
Remus blushed and ducked his head. “She’s doing alright, thanks.”
“James, Remus?”
It was Peter, followed by Marlene McKinnon.
“Hey Pete, McKinnon.”
Marlene nodded at them in acknowledgement before heading off to the staircase. Peter lingered.
“Why are we standing here?”
“I was waiting for Sirius,” James explained - Remus thought he sounded oddly proud.
“Mind if I join you, then?” Peter smiled hopefully at them. Remus immediately put an arm around him for a one armed hug.
“Of course.”
The three of them stood waiting, chatting about their holidays and greeting the steady stream of Gryffindors as they passed through McGonagall’s office. Markus and George of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were next. Peter was just taking out his camera to show them when the man of the hour appeared.
“Sirius!”
The other first year was barely out of the office before James was upon him, squeezing him like a boa constrictor. Close behind him was a tall dark haired student with a green Head Girl badge gleaming on her Hogwarts cloak.
“Are you Andromeda Black?” James asked when he’d finally released Sirius who stood there, dumbfounded. Andromeda quirked an eyebrow at him, her face unreadable.
“You must be Potter. Nearly didn’t recognise you - you look so… tidy.”
James gave her a hard stare and she cracked a small smile at them.
“Okay, Little Imp, I’ll leave you with these idiots,” she declared, patting Sirius on the head before stalking off. Sirius waved silently at her back before turning to get a proper look at his gathered dorm-mates.
“Yeah, what is up with your hair?”
James groaned, his hands returning to his hair. “My mum’s done something to it - must be a new product line.”
“You look like Adolf Hitler,” Peter supplied. Remus snorted and James and Sirius looked blankly at them. Remus rolled his eyes and changed the subject - seemed his parents had been right about wizard children and their patchy schooling.
“Check out Pete’s new camera,” he said, pointing it out to Sirius.
“Nice. Muggle or wizard?” he asked, taking it and turning it over in his hands.
“Muggle, I think. But Dad said I can develop it into moving pictures so I’m not sure. I’ve never owned one before, so I wouldn’t know the difference.”
The office door opened and Lily Evans appeared, her hair in two unusually neat plaits.
“Hi Remus, hi Peter. Is that a camera? Nice!”
James scowled at the snub and Sirius laughed at him.
“It’s cool, ey? We were just wondering if it's magical or not.” Peter handed it to her to get an assessment. She peered down the viewfinder absently.
“No idea, my sister’s more up on that kind of thing.” She turned so that James was in focus and he straightened up immediately. Lily just snorted and clicked the shutter before handing it back to Peter.
“Sorry to use some of your film, Pete, but someone had to record Potter looking like such a dolt. Might need it for blackmail in the future.” She patted Peter on the shoulder and turned off towards the main staircase.
Remus snorted at James’ aghast expression - his whole face down to his ears was red. Peter capped the lens and returned the camera to his bag before it caused any more trouble.
“Come on, Dolt,” said Sirius good-naturedly. “Let’s get going.”
The four of them left the transfiguration department and walked out into the Entrance Hall. Just as they were about to turn off up the main staircase, Sirius elbowed James.
“Look who it is.”
James craned his neck to see what Sirius was pointing at. Just off from the wide stairs that led into the Great Hall was a smaller set of stairs, leading to the dungeons. In the archway stool a girl with a familiar set of orange plaits and-
“Snape.” James grinned deviously.
The pair seemed to be chattering excitedly to each other. Snape was even smiling - something James wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before.
“Want me to try out something I’ve been practicing?” Sirius asked slyly, pulling his wand out of his pocket. Remus groaned.
“We just got back , term has barely started, just leave him.” He implored. Sirius ignored him.
“Me and Reg were practicing the tickling charm over Christmas - I could definitely get him good with that.”
Abruptly, Lily spun around, glaring over at them fiercely. Severus followed her line of sight and whipped his own wand out once he’d realised who was staring.
“I thought I could feel someone looking at me,” Lily hissed, eyeing Sirius’ raised wand. “You’d better not be thinking of doing anything with that, Black."
Severus went to advance past her, but Lily reached an arm out and snatched her friend’s wand clean out of his hand.
“Not you, either, Sev!” Snape looked furious, but Lily seemed to grow bolder under his hard stare. “Get over yourselves and go. I’ll snitch on you - I don’t care if we’re in the same house.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, maintaining his unbothered air and pocketing his wand. “Calm it, Evans. I was hardly going to kill him. And no one likes a snitch.”
“No one likes a blood traitor, either,” Severus spat. “Lucky Evans was here or I’d have turned you into something your mother would be more proud of, like a slug.”
Remus and Peter shared a glance before advancing up the stairs, leaving the arguing to their dorm-mates. They could still be heard a couple of floors up.
“Wow, I’m so frightened, Snivellus. Thank you for saving me, Evans.”
“Wish I hadn’t, actually.”
“Give it back to him, then. We’d love to test some of our holiday reading.”
Loud clicking betrayed the advance of McGonagall and they immediately silenced themselves. The few straggling students who were in the Entrance stopped in their tracks, never missing the opportunity to watch a good telling off.
“Potter, Black, Snape, Evans, five points from each of you. You’ve not been back five minutes, get a hold of yourselves.” She looked pointedly at James and Sirius. “Do not embarrass me and my house on the first day of term. Get yourselves to the common room and out of my sight.”
Sirius and James turned, somewhat meekly, to continue up to the tower. They could have sworn they had heard McGonagall mutter to herself “good luck, indeed,” before disappearing back to the Transfiguration department.
~ * ~
Three Gryffindor boys unpacked their Christmas treasures and chatted amongst themselves, openly ignoring the drama coming from the boys’ attached bathroom. James had been hiding in there for the past twenty minutes, fleeing there as soon as they’d entered the portrait hole to try and fix his hair - only to discover that it was worse than he could have possibly imagined.
How his mother had managed to force his hair into such a severe side part, he’d never know, but it seemed that no amount of running his fingers desperately through it could stop it from dropping right back to how it was before.
He was beside himself with frustration when Sirius, tired of the over-dramatic complaining, cast aguamenti directly at his friend, completely drenching him and effectively silencing him.
A few moments of blessed quiet between them before-
“What would you do that for!?” James whined indignantly, peeling his wet and now itchy jumper over his head and stepping out of his flooded shoes, socks squelching on the stone floor.
“Thought it might wash it out,” said Sirius innocently. “Hope you know the drying charm.”
James grumbled miserably and yanked a nearby towel, scrubbing at his head with it. “I’ve no idea, of course. Right, get out then, let me have a shower. You could have made the water warm, at least.”
Sirius gave him a cheeky shrug and a “whoops” before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
For some reason, his trip home had only emboldened him.
It was going to be an interesting term.
Notes:
I know that the S28 Shafiq line is supposed to have died out and that this contradicts some Fantastic Beasts nonsense storyline - but I just find it really convenient that one of the only ethnically diverse lines is gone. Plus, I need OCs to fill up the school and I’d rather use existing names.
(Severus was waiting for her in the Entrance Hall :)))
Hope you enjoyed some light dorkiness after all those kinda somber Christmas chapters.
Thank you for reading (and for the recent kudos!)
~BeckettSimpleton
Chapter 20: 31st January 1972
Summary:
James, Sirius and Peter solemnly swear they're up to no good :)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“I’ve never even seen any kitchens - I just assumed they conjured the food out of nowhere.”
Peter, James and Sirius sat in the first year boys’ dormitory - plotting. Since Sirius had found confirmation of the existence of the Hogwarts kitchens (a fleeting mention within Hogwarts; A History cross referenced with I’ll Take the Rest! An Homage to Hufflepuff House ) they had decided that they could do better than filling their pockets after the feast. It had all been wistful talk until Remus had disappeared again from their dormitory, this time for two nights in a row. Initially, they had assumed another visit home but they had later heard whispers around the common room that a first year was in the hospital wing looking like “they’d had their face painted gold and rammed in a niffler cage”. McGonagall had confirmed for them that afternoon in Transfiguration that Remus was to remain there “until Madame Pomfrey deems it so, Pettigrew”, so naturally there was nothing to do other than take a late night trip to the fabled kitchens and try and find something to cheer him up.
“No, you can’t conjure food out of nothing - even house elves can’t do that,” James corrected him absently. “My mum says you can only change what you have, or multiply it. But it’s really hard - she doesn’t bother most of the time.”
“Well, we would have seen it, surely. A kitchen big enough to cater a school can’t be missed.” Peter reasoned. Sirius rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Peter. It’ll be hidden. Try to remember you’re in a magical school.”
Sirius didn’t even look up at Peter as he dismissed him, but Peter’s face turned pink in badly masked embarrassment.
“Right…”
James ignored the two of them, he was skim-reading through Sirius' copy of I’ll Take the Rest! Trying to find a hint to the location.
“See, it does say here that Hufflepuff herself added the kitchens ‘in the natural location’ but what does that even mean, in a castle? See, you would think that it would be off the Great Hall, but we know that there’s only the main doors and that side door off from the Great Hall - we saw that first term!”
Sirius opened the tower window and leaned his whole head and shoulders out of it. “Well, in a house, that’d be backing onto the garden, but that hardly narrows it down, does it?”
Peter leaned over the foot of his bed, reaching into his trunk to pull out a roll of parchment. He then dug in his pocket for a muggle pen and lay the paper out on his nightstand.
“Okay, so we have the Great Hall, yeah?” he said, drawing a rectangle, “Then the main doors and the side door, behind the Teacher’s table.” He added door signifiers, and smaller rectangles for the tables. James and Sirius stood around his drawing to watch.
“We don’t know where the side door goes, right? We’ve seen into the room beyond, and we know it’s not a kitchen. Unless you two have been through there?” Peter looked up at them questioningly. They shook their heads.
“Right. So we know that the first room behind the door isn’t a kitchen.” He drew an X. “So, entrance hall…” He made another large, rectangular room, with staircase notations to depict the two routes on either side of the Great Hall doors. “We know this one goes towards the dungeons.” He labeled it.
“Well, I can be sure that the Kitchen can’t be through the dungeon doorway route,” Sirius offered. “It tunnels outwards, towards the lake,” he borrowed Peter’s pen and clumsily drew the lake off to the far right of the Great Hall. “So Perhaps the other staircase goes under the Great Hall?”
“Oh, yeah!” James leaned in and turned the drawing so that it was right-way-up for him. “‘Cause the greenhouses are over here to the left, right?” Sirius handed him the pen and he drew some small sheds off to the left. “And I’m pretty sure the Hufflepuff common room is down there-”
“It is,” Sirius confirmed, nodding at his book. “And it’s semi-buried, too. According to the book - it describes the room a little, and mentions high-windows.”
“Right, so the common room can’t be entirely under the Great Hall, if it has windows, so perhaps it’s out a bit too, like the Slytherin one?” Peter drew a circle half overlapping the Great Hall, and half off to the left. “So there’s this space under the hall that’s unaccounted for.” He drew a question-mark on it with a flourish.
“Theoretically,” said James, excitedly.
“Theoretically.” Peter agreed.
They looked up at each other, the excitement of working together fizzing between them. Sirius broke the silence.
“You’re quite good at drawing maps, Peter,” he commented.
“Thanks! My dad’s a building contractor!” He grinned up at them, but got only blank looks back. “It means he helps organise things getting built. Anyway, he draws lots of floorplans.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow at Peter. “Sounds like a muggle job.” James rolled his eyes and groaned loudly, but Peter met Sirius’ look, unembarrassed, this time.
“ Actually it’s a job within the Ministry. Wizarding buildings are often made off the back of Muggle structures, and so they need someone familiar with both worlds to help plan hidden locations such as Mungo’s, or The Leaky Cauldron. That’s what he says, anyway.” Peter’s expression was pleasant and neutral, but it held none of his usual meekness. Sirius raised the other eyebrow, creating a much less sardonic expression.
“That’s quite cool, actually.” He conceded, earning a smile from Peter.
“Right, lads, what do you say to going down there before curfew?” James rubbed his hands together excitedly. “After all, it’s not a crime to be near the Hufflepuff common room. And then if we do find the kitchens, we only have to sneak back . Half the risk, same reward, yeah?”
Peter pocketed the pen and went to stuff the map in his trunk before Sirius put a hand on his arm, stopping him.
“No, bring it. If we find anything cool, we can add it.”
Peter beamed at him and folded it up to fit into his robe pocket. They filed out the door, James first, bounding down the stairs as usual.
~ * ~
The boys climbed out of the portrait hole and into the cool tower hallway. A few Gryffendor students here and there passed them, but mostly, the journey was quiet. After all, it was mid Winter and students much preferred their warm common rooms this time of year - only venturing out into the castle to run errands such as returning library texts.
They hurried down the many staircases and were a touch out of breath by the time they reached the entrance hall. The wide short staircase that led up to the Great Hall stood before them. Dinner had finished a few hours ago and the Great Hall doors were closed - they would have to save the mystery of that side door for another day. On either side, as in Peter’s drawings, were the two smaller staircases. One to the right, which they took to reach their Potions classes, and the other to left. They had never been down it before.
It was much shorter than the dungeon stairs, levelling into a corridor after only a few feet of descent. They huddled awkwardly together, despite the corridor not being out of bounds. The hallway was lined with paintings but, unlike the rest of the castle, they didn’t depict people. Large landscape paintings of the Highlands, moody depictions of the castle standing amongst the fog. They continued down, towards the end, taking in the series. Next, a beautiful set of three paintings showing golden light flooding down through three stained glass windows that they recognised from the Great Hall. Then the bowed heads of a school-full of students eating together along the tables and finally, the hallway turned abruptly to the left.
The three of them stood at the end of the corridor, bemused. The final painting showed a bowl of fruit (presumably resting on the table of the hall of the castle in the Highlands) and nothing else.
“So, there’s no right turn?” Peter took a few steps down the corridor to the left, but it carried on in that direction. “And no door, no portrait hole…”
James stood in front of the painting of the students eating.
“They’re not even moving. Is this even a magical painting? I can’t speak to them.”
Sure enough, each painting was completely still. They lowered their voices as a small group of Hufflepuffs passed them going off to the left.
“There must be something under the Hall,” Peter muttered, coming back to stand with the others at the end of the corridor. “It doesn’t make sense for them to dig under the Lake for the dungeons, when the space under the Hall is right there .” He leaned against the thick frame of the painting. It stood about 6 feet by four feet, the frame about as thick as a man’s leg.
Sirius was running his fingers down the edges of the portraits, apparently looking for hidden entrances. “Perhaps it’s not the same as muggle buildings. If you’re excavating with magic, maybe it’s all the same?”
Peter shook his head, wavy blonde hair brushing against the edge of the painting. “No. I mean, it is easier , but it would still-”
James and Sirius whipped around at Peter’s squeak of shock just in time to see him falling backwards through a doorway that certainly hadn’t been there the moment before. Beyond it, James glimpsed the scattered light from gleaming metal and many, many wide eyes.
“ Go!” He hissed to Sirius through gritted teeth, pushing him towards the doorway before another group of Hufflepuffs might come down the stairs and find them. “Just get in!”
James hurried through, pulling Peter up by the arm and out of the way so he could close the portrait behind Sirius. Finally concealed, they turned to look at the small crowd that had emerged to greet them. James felt Peter tuck himself nervously behind himself and Sirius. He supposed the sight would be quite frightening, if you didn’t know anything about house elves.
Before the trio stood about twenty, all wearing a smart dark uniform like outfit, some holding various utensils.
One stepped out bravely from the crowd. James saw Sirius step back in response out of the corner of his eye. The elf looked pointedly at Sirius, then at Peter, hiding between them, before settling on James, who was grinning down at him, delightedly. It matched his energy immediately.
“Sirs!” He squeaked (James thought they were a he, it was hard to tell with elves), “We were not expecting any company tonight, but we is more than happy to help - what is youse needing, this evening?”
James held out his hand, hesitantly, for a handshake. Did elves shake hands?
Apparently yes, the elf took his first finger in his hand and shook it gently. “Nice to meet you, sir!” He chirped.
“My name is James,” he told the elf, then gestured to his companions. “And this is Peter, and Sirius. Who are you?”
I is known as Marley, Sir!” Marley the elf put his thumb to his chest proudly. When he smiled, James noticed he was missing a front tooth. “Hogwarts elves is meant to be a secret,” he confessed, “but since youse have found the kitchen, the niffler is in the vault, or whatever the phrase is.”
“Cat’s out the bag,” Peter whispered, weakly. He crouched down to get a better look at Marley and also offered him a hand. “Hi, Marley. I’ve never met an elf before.”
Marley stepped forward and clasped it enthusiastically. “Then it’s a pleasure, sir!”
Peter grinned up at James, bewildered and delighted all at once.
“Do you guys make the food, then? If this is the kitchen?”
“Yes Sir!” Marley gestured to the room behind them proudly. “We is making all the food at Hogwarts, and cleaning all the fires, and doing all the laundry of boys and girls like you.”
Peter baulked a little, but composed himself. “I suppose I never considered what happened with the laundry. I just thought everything was, yknow, magic.”
“House elves is magic,” said Marley,” and we is doing laundry, so laundry is done by magic!”
Peter wasn’t sure the reasoning tracked, but he let it go, standing back up and turning to Sirius.
“So, have you met an elf before?” he asked. Sirius looked at Marley for a moment, who beamed up at his, smile unwavering.
“Yes, we have one at home… He has a very different personality.”
Marley nodded sagely. “Yes, sir, we elves are very different but we is all helpful. Pleased to meet you.” He held up his hand and Sirius looked at it blankly for a moment, before gently taking his tiny hand and shaking it.
“Pleasure’s mine.”
By now, the elves that had gathered had dispersed back to whatever they had been up to earlier. Some were at the huge sinks, washing dishes by magic (wandless, James noted). Others seemed to have turned off into several of the small doorways and disappeared all together.
“So, Marley,” James was businesslike again. “Did you say earlier that you would be able to help us out?”
In the kitchen were four parallel tables, headed by one running across the top, in the same layout as the hall above. Marley walked over to the table which James supposed would represent the Slytherin one and stood up on the bench so as to speak to him more comfortably.
“When students is sneaking into the kitchens, Sir, they is usually looking for treats.” At this news, James shared an excited look with Peter and Sirius.
“So we’re not the only ones who have come here?” Sirius asked.
“No sir, and youse won’t be the last. The kitchens is hidden, but most students who is exploring the castle a little is finding it eventually. It is not the most hidden room in all of Hogwarts.”
Sirius shared a pointed look with James. So there was more to find.
Peter pulled them back to the task at hand. “Yes, Marley, we were looking for the kitchens because we wanted to get a treat for our friend. Could you help us?”
James would have thought it was impossible for Marley’s eyes to get any wider without them falling out of his skull, but he managed.
“Marley is delighted to be making a treat for Peter’s friend! Is it a birthday?”
“Er, no, Marley, he’s sick, actually. We were hoping to cheer him up.”
This seemed to inspire a sympathy-fuelled spree of several nearby elves, who must have been eavesdropping. They chatted excitedly at each other. To James, it looked as though they were arguing over the best treats. Finally, they had settled on doughnuts.
“Then youse can make all different kinds, you see!” justified a blue-eyed elf who was still holding a spatula.
With alarming speed, a few elves busied themselves making the dough. The smell and sound of sizzling was a welcome backdrop to their chatting as they waited. Peter had pulled out his parchment again and, with Sirius and James on either side of them, was marking more accurately the Hufflepuff corridor and going over everything they’d said in the leadup to the portrait opening to try and determine the password.
They folded the papers away when Marley presented them with a tray of 13 plain doughnuts.
“We is thinking it would be fun to decorate them?”
~ * ~
Covered in powdered sugar and licking icing off their fingers, Peter and Sirius each held a box of six decorated doughnuts. James rather thought it was the first time that Sirius had done any baking at all, as most of his efforts were down the front of his jumper and in his hair, but it had at least been amusing to watch him try to battle with an icing sugar that was too thick and sticking to everything like cement. James thanked the elves who had helped them and brushed as much powder as he could off his trousers.
“Well, now for the hard part.”
They had left the dormitory at half eight, so it must now be at least 10pm. Curfew would mean that the prefects would be roaming the corridors, rounding up the last of their housemates. They would have to be sneaky.
“Careful, sirs, goodbye sirs!” Marley waved at them as they cracked the portrait to check the corridor. All was safe and silent, so they waved their goodbyes and slipped through.
The castle was painfully silent. Even though most students had been in their common rooms on the way down, it was incredible how much the ambient sound of their footsteps and conversations had created a safe blacket of background noise. Sirius tapped James on the shoulder and mouthed ‘cloak?’ at him hopefully, only for James to grimace, flick his gaze to Peter and shake his head.
Great.
They slunk down the hallway, softening their footsteps as much as possible. Peter tip-toed ahead up the stairs to check that the Entrance Hall was clear. At his signal, they followed him.
They felt as though they were running through a searchlight, making their way across the Entrance Hall. There was no real cover, other than the slight shadows, and many doorways and staircase railings which they could be looked at from. They made it to the base of the staircase, wound tighter than violin strings and started their ascent in relief. At least on the stairs, they could obscure themselves from certain parts of the entrance hall if they stayed against the wall.
Finally at the second floor, they slipped through the doorway and closed it carefully behind them, grinning. They’d done it. Well, phase two of three, at least.
“You better not be in Gryffindor,” muttered someone behind them. They whipped around and were met with the tired face of the Gryffindor prefect, Mohammad.
James and Sirius grinned what were intended to be winning smiles at him, while Peter, who had startled so violently, was retrieving his box of doughnuts from the floor. He groaned. Several had fallen out, icing side down.
“Potter, Black and Pettigrew, am I correct?” He asked, approaching them wearily. “I knew I hadn’t seen you three come back. What in Merlin’s name are you doing here past curfew?” He glanced at the mess Peter had made on the floor.
“Are they doughnuts?”
Notes:
I like the idea that there’s a series of books called Lion’s Den; The Origins of the Heroic House of Gryffindor, I’ll Take The Rest! An Homage to Hufflepuff House, A Woman’s Greatest Treasure; The Ravenclaw Legacy and By Any Means; Slytherin’s Foundational Role in the Foundation of Wizarding Society. Be cute to buy them for your wee 11 year old who just got sorted for them to literally never read lol. Of course, Sirius has the whole set.
Thank God for the Harry Potter PS2 games - I used a vague memory of their layout to decide the castle layout for this fic. Plus, I think the entrance hall/Great Hall entrance in that game is based on the atrium of the Natural History Museum, because it felt VERY familiar when I went there a few years ago haha.
Thanks again for reading!
~BS
Chapter 21: 1st February 1972
Summary:
Lily has an unusual Tuesday
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Are they doughnuts?”
~ * ~
Peter chose not to answer the question. He salvaged what he could in the box and went about sheepishly picking up the mess he’d made as best he could.
Mohammad rolled his eyes fondly and pulled out his wand. A simple scourgify from the prefect had the floor and his hands tidied up. Peter spared him a shy glance from under his blonde fringe. He’d never had a run-in with the Gryffindor prefects yet - hopefully James could charm them out of trouble.
Mohammad certainly wasn’t an unusually tall fifth year, but in comparison to the boys in front of him, he was intimidating enough. He had a serious, though not unkind, face and shiny dark hair. He raised an eyebrow at them and gave each of the first-years a hard stare.
“You have thirty seconds to give me a legitimate justification as to why the three of you are in the second floor corridor at quarter past ten with two boxes of doughnuts that I can only assume you’ve acquired from the kitchens.” He crossed his arms and waited.
James opened his mouth, finger in the air ready for emphasis, but Peter beat him to it.
“We wanted to look in on Remus. You know, Remus Lupin?” Peter pulled a boldness from some untouched pit of his stomach and carried on. “McGonagall said we weren’t to visit him, but someone said he’d been properly hurt, so we thought it’d be nice to… bring him a present?” He held up the worse-for-wear box of doughnuts for Mohammad to see, and adopted a grin to match James and Sirius.
Mohammad was not so easily won over by three cheesy grins from cheeky first years, but he had been told that one Remus Lupin was in rough shape in the hospital wing and had been advised by McGonagall to check in if he’d like anything brought from his dormitory and to look out for his nosey friends.
Seems she’d been spot on, in that prediction.
He sighed, knowing that he certainly would have broken curfew to sneak his little brother some treats had the situation been similar.
“Right, five points from us, because I’m not a soft-touch and fair’s fair - you got caught. But I won’t grass you up to McGonagall. Seem reasonable?”
James shrugged and nodded in agreement. “Fair’s fair, I guess. Thanks.”
Mohammad opened the door and gestured for the trio to lead the way out of the corridor and back onto the main staircase.
“As nice as it is to hear the first years are looking out for each other this much, I want you to consider that Professor McGonagall is a reasonable woman who wouldn’t deny visitors to an unwell eleven year old out of sheer cruelty. It would do you good to consider what Lupin’s own feelings are on the matter.”
The boys shared a confused look, obediently allowing themselves to be ushered back up to the tower by the prefect. At the door to the dormitory, he continued to follow them, unexpectedly.
“Er, Mohammad?”
He followed them in and went to Remus’ bed, picking up his school bag and peeking at the books inside.
“ I was on the second floor because I went to see if Remus wanted anything to cure the boredom,” he explained. “He asked for a couple of books he’d been reading.”
“Oh.” The three boys stood by their beds, watching blankly as Mohammad packed whatever books Remus had asked for into his school bag. He held out his hand towards Sirius.
“Would you like me to take these?” He offered, smiling kindly. Sirius wordlessly handed him the box, and Peter went to add his to the stack.
“Er, how’s he doing?” James asked. “And do you know when he’ll be back?”
Mohammad pulled Remus’ bag over his shoulder and patted James on the head. “I’m sure if this was information you were allowed to have, Professor McGonagall would have told you. No doubt you’ve already asked her.” The blush was enough confirmation.
“I’ll tell him you were asking after him,” he assured, and shut the dormitory door.
They stood where he had left them, listening to his footsteps descending the dormitory stairs.
James turned to the others, clearly back to plotting. “We could use the cloak - wait for Mo to go to bed and try again?”
This got mixed reactions. Peter looking baffled and Sirius turning the idea down very seriously.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sirius said evenly. “Mohammad just said, Remus doesn’t want visitors.” It seemed that this had settled the matter for Sirius, but James was far from deterred.
“He just said that to stop us looking. Of course he wants visitors, he’s probably bored out of his mind.” James was speaking with his usual absolute certainty, but this time, it wasn’t even enough to convince ever agreeable Peter to go along with him.
“No, I agree with Sirius. If he doesn’t want visitors, we shouldn’t go.”
James wilted and dropped onto his bed in defeat, though he continued to whinge to himself, “I personally would want to know my friends cared about me if I was ill.”
Peter and Sirius ignored him, much more humbled by the implication of what Mohammad had said. They set about brushing their teeth and getting ready for bed, a little dejectedly.
Sirius was honestly embarrassed with himself. He hadn’t even considered that Remus wouldn’t want them - he’d allowed himself to get swept up in the excitement of the idea (and of course, Remus was a kind dorm-mate - it had been a nice idea). Only after the Gryffindor prefect had chastised them did he remember that one time he had spoken to Remus alone, before the Christmas holidays. He’d let Remus in on his secret, his cloak, just a little. Their shared secret. He’d almost walked all over it, completely disrespected it. The whole silent agreement had been I’ll comfort you, and you comfort me, but we won’t ask questions.
How betrayed would Remus have been, if he’d turned up, unannounced in the Hospital Wing?
Maybe as betrayed as he would feel, if Remus had sought out his older cousins and asked about his family.
Some things were best left alone.
~ * ~
Lily was not expecting a huge school barn owl to land in front of her at the breakfast table, scattering feathers into her bacon and eggs. It hooted (apologetically, she assumed) and held out its leg for her to untie the small letter attached.
She glanced at Dorcas (shoveling toast into her mouth) on her right and Mary (chatting to Marlene) on her left. She never got school post. Whenever mail came from either her parents or Ben, it arrived by Post Office owl, having gone through the muggle service first. Even Severus always met up with her in person, despite the apparent controversy.
She opened the letter as casually as possible and scanned it quickly.
Dear Miss Evans,
Please see me at the end of Transfiguration.
I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you.
Please don’t fret - you are not in trouble.
Yours,
Professor McGonagall.
She returned the note to the envelope and pocketed it, feeling a little queasy. Despite the reassurance that she wasn’t in trouble, she couldn’t help but worry that something awful was afoot. Perhaps her latest piece of homework had been worryingly atrocious? Or Lucius had made a formal complaint to Slughorn about her and Severus’ habit of sitting at each other’s house tables? Or perhaps he had been right about the blood politics thing, and they were going to remove all the muggle-borns from Hogwarts?
Well, worrying about it wouldn’t change the outcome. She pushed her ruined bacon and eggs and her worries away from her and stood, straightening her robes.
“Ready?”
Dorcas gave her a thumbs-up, swallowing hugely and brushing toast crumbs from her clothes.
“Yeah, let’s get going. Come on girls - Charms first.”
Lily had always found making friends easy, and she was happy to learn that it wasn’t that much different in this hidden world. For all the talk about blood, and separation from muggles that Severus had to deal with, Lily had found her fellow students startlingly similar to her friends back home. Magic didn’t make too much of a difference. They still talked too loudly in the school corridors, they still broke into fits of unsuppressable giggles in the middle of class, they still pushed each other over on the school fields to start play-fights.
Perhaps it was for the best that she wasn’t in Slytherin with Sev. She was grateful for the relative simplicity of the Gryffindor Tower.
The girls breezed their way through charms (a compass charm, handy), and lined up obediently outside of the Transfiguration classroom, rooting in their bags for their homework in a last-minute panic.
Lily had hoped to see Remus join them again that morning after his mysterious stint in the Hospital Wing, but even by second class, Peter was still alone.
Lily watched McGonagall with an unusual intensity over the hour to try and see if there was anything off that would give her a clue to her summons, but the lesson went by as it always did. She and Mary were teamed up in a three with Peter, each trying to turn a wooden mothball into a glass marble.
When students started filing their way out, Lily lingered as requested. Mary tried to hover with her, but Lily assured her they’d meet up at break and then they were alone.
Professor McGonagall was quite a tall witch and stood an intimidating height next to Lily. It seemed this was obvious to her, as she pulled up a nearby chair and sat herself on the opposite side of Lily and Mary’s desk.
“Thank you for waiting, Miss Evans. I hope I didn’t worry you?”
Lily lied, assuring her she hadn’t. “What’s the problem, Professor?”
McGonagall sighed. Rather uncharacteristically, it seemed she was pondering on the right words.
“This concerns Mr Remus Lupin, I believe the two of you are friends?”
This had hardly been what she was expecting, but the worry she had pushed away at breakfast came flooding back in a crashing wave. She looked, wide eyed, at her professor - horrified.
“He’s alright, isn’t he?”
God, what if he’d really hurt himself (she was no fool, she knew the full moon had been two days ago). Or even if he had escaped, and hurt someone else?
“I won’t lie and say he’s unhurt, as you know, he’s out of class at the moment. But I can assure you nothing dire has happened. This is more of a request.” She interlocked her fingers on the desk between them and looked at Lily seriously.
“When Mr Lupin found out he would have to stay in the Hospital Wing for a few days, he asked Madame Pomfrey if he could have some company. She refused this, as his injuries are very… difficult to explain away. Remus then confessed that he had told you about his situation. Is this true?”
She didn’t seem to be in trouble. McGonagall was sober, but not accusatory. Lily nodded her confirmation.
“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Lily chewed her lip nervously. She had thought it had been a good thing that Remus had been able to confide in her, but now she regretted asking anything at all.
“I can hardly expect anything less from an eleven year old who has been isolated for so long. We rather expected that Remus might cave and tell another student. The reason I need to speak to you is to let you know the gravity of the situation. I understand that you have promised Remus to keep his secret, but what you might not know is that this secret is protecting him from more than just judgement or questioning. Remus would be unable to attend Hogwarts at all, if this information were to get back to the main student body. I’m aware that this is a lot of responsibility to give to you, Evans, but now that you know, I must make things clear. You may never disclose this to another student. You must take great care to not feed into rumours or speculation that might reveal him.” McGonagall’s gaze softened over her glasses.
“I’m sure I can trust you. You are a very prudent young girl.”
Lily smiled earnestly, at the compliment, but also upon understanding more of the significance of Remus’ confession. It was easy to assure her Head of House. This time, no lie was necessary.
“I wouldn’t betray Remus, Professor. You can both trust me.”
~ * ~
The Hospital Wing was very quiet. The second floor had a heavy door separating it from the main staircase, making it closed off from the noise of the rest of the school. McGonagall escorted her first year through the doors and handed her off to Madame Pomfrey, offering her a rare shoulder squeeze to show her pride.
Lily had never been to the second floor before. She had never had a reason to visit the Hospital Wing, after all. The windows were tall and impressive, letting in much of the remaining evening light. Despite that, she felt a little claustrophobic, like a mouse in a box. They were too high to see out of and it made her feel as though she were being watched.
Madame Pomfrey was a short witch who didn’t bother to make small talk with Lily. She walked her around the corner, revealing the row of neat beds, each separated on one side by a small folding screen. One, at the end, was pulled all the way around, completely obscuring the occupant from view.
“Mr Lupin, you have a visitor,” she called as they approached and some rustling could be heard. The matron’s hand left her arm and Lily was left alone with the screen between her and her new friend. She dithered there, feeling useless, for a few seconds before Remus’ soft voice called out.
“Lily?”
She pulled herself together and stepped around the screen. The pleasant smile she offered in greeting died on her face before she had the chance to conceal her shock.
Remus was sitting, cross legged, on top of the covers in a muggle t-shirt and cotton shorts. A fiction book lay open on the bed in front of him.
Remus was twig-limbed and scrawny, just as Dorcas was frizzy haired and freckled. It was just how he was, and she had never been alarmed by it before now. But sitting, more exposed than she’d ever seen him, it felt different.
There was the mangled ankle - she’d seen a glimpse of it before. Here it was in all its glory, the skin uneven and shiny, as though it had been chewed up and spat out many years ago.
She supposed it might’ve been.
More surprising was the long, thick scar that ran from his knee up his inner thigh, thankfully disappearing up the leg of his shorts. It was, at least, more nearly healed than the others - straight and uniform, but still brutal.
And there were the hands, the missing fingernail as before.
But the worst was his face.
A bright pink, angry looking set of four gouges ran from between his eyebrows, across his nose, barely missing his eye and down to his mouth. His right ear was a mess, it looked as though it had been shredded and pieced back together, and whatever had maimed it had carried on down his neck, gouges which seemed to start by the nape of his neck and finished at his jaw. His hazel eyes seemed tired, set in an unusually pale face.
“Sorry, I’m a bit grim, at the moment,” he offered, weakly.
Lily sat wordlessly on the edge of the bed, green eyes still openly cataloguing the state of his face. Remus fiddled nervously with his own fingers, hope on his newly scarred face.
“What a mess you’ve made of yourself,” she whispered. Remus gave her a small, guilty smile.
“Yeah, worst one in a good while, that’s for certain.” He marked his page and closed his book, putting it on the nightstand. Lily kicked off her shoes so she could mirror his cross-legged position.
“Will they go away?”
Remus looked away before answering. His smile seemed a little wobbly.
“I want to say yes, but no.”
Lily sighed heavily, at a loss for anything to say to comfort him. In reality, they barely knew each other, having only spoken for the first time some five months before. But it was undeniable that the secret that lay open between them forced an unnatural closeness.
It meant a lot, to be trusted. Lily wouldn’t handle him carelessly. After all, how dejected had she been at Petunia’s loathing of a quirk which had turned out to be much more benign?
She opened her arms in a clear invitation and, after only a second’s hesitation, Remus accepted, squeezing her tightly in return.
“Thanks, Lily. I know it’s a lot, and that I shouldn’t have told you. I was just getting a bit lonely, I suppose.” Remus was looking at his hands again. Lily took a breath to compose herself, and tugged on his finger to get him to look at her. Her freckled face was stubborn and firm.
“Well, it’s too late now, Remus. I asked and you told me. It is what it is.” She shoved her fringe off her face a little aggressively and continued. “If you regret having someone who knows about the scary things, I’m sorry but I can’t help you. I already care.” Her face was so resolute, it was almost angry, and Remus had to laugh. He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her fondly. It felt natural, the most natural any interaction outside of his family had ever felt.
“Thank you, Lily.”
The two sat together, Lily steering the conversation away to the book that he was reading and opening a can of muggle fiction worms that kept them entertained for a good half hour, with Remus promising to lend her his copy of The Wishing Chair, Again if she would get her sister to send their copy of William the Lawless for him to read.
“This is all a bit like The Wishing Chair , I think, sometimes,” Lily mused, playing absently with the end of her plait. “Because no one back home would believe half the stuff I’d say if I told them. I feel like I’m a bit mad sometimes.”
Remus wondered what it must be like to have friends, then leave them for a completely different world. He supposed he was fortunate that way.
“I understand, I think. I feel like I have this secret world that’s just mine, and no one can know about it, or they’d think I was a lunatic.”
“Suppose we’re both mental?” Lily suggested lightly, elbowing him.
They lapsed into silence and Lily took the opportunity to ask the obvious question.
“If the wounds won’t heal, what’ll you say when you come back to school? People will definitely ask.”
Remus traced the gouges on his neck self consciously. “I suppose I’ll have to tell people I went at the Whomping Willow or something,” he mused. “I hope they’ll look a bit less… fresh, in a few days, but it’s not like I’ll be able to hide them.”
A thought passed unbidden through Lily’s mind and she couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. Remus looked at her, bemused.
“Sorry, I was just thinking of your prat dorm-mates,” she explained. “Bet you’ll be the model for Peter’s new camera. They’ll definitely think the scars are cool or something.”
Remus was unconvinced. “I think they’re maybe a bit too much to be cool-”
Lily cut him off. “No Remus, I knew boys like James Potter at my old school too - they’re not exactly hard to figure out. You know for a fact if he had managed to get himself scarred up like that he’d be going around telling everyone he fought a shark and won…”
There was a wicked mirth in her eyes all of a sudden.
“Actually, the Whomping Willow story is great. If he thinks you went anywhere near it, he’ll copy you for sure. Severus will get a good laugh out of that.”
Remus decided to let the peek at her more savage side slide, after all, he was sure James and Sirius would jump at the chance to watch Snape get thwacked by the Willow. He didn’t want to allow himself to even hope that his newest disfigurement would be met with anything other than wordless stares at best and outright name-calling at worst, but Lily was so certain that a little flicker of hope caught light.
Maybe his furry little problem didn’t have to be the thing that pushed absolutely everyone away.
Well. He had some certain proof of that hypothesis. She was sitting right beside him.
Notes:
This chapter spans two days and ruins my vibe - ugh. I should have added the little marauders bit to the end of last chapter but I was short-sighted.
Remus really did a number on himself this time without the Mungo's lads to knock him out, bless him.
Absolute insanity that in all of Harry's adventures, he never met a Mohammad. I'm sure it's like, the most, or second most common boy's name in the UK. Anyway, we have Mo Shafiq and his wee brother Suleiman. Mo's a top lad.
Chapter 22: 5th February 1972
Summary:
Remus comes to terms with his new face
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
After a week of careful application of many strong smelling balms and serums, and the forcing down of plenty of grim tasting potions, Remus and Madame Pomfrey agreed that the wounds were as good as they were going to get.
She had assured him that, like the marks to his hands and feet, they would fade a little more with time - but that hardly helped him now. Mungo’s analgesic cream had worked well enough to dull the ache, but the itching was inescapable. He stood in front of the mirror in the infirmary’s bathroom, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t that bad.
At least he didn’t look quite as ill. Pomfrey insisted that it had simply been a matter of correcting blood loss, but Remus was secretly sure it had been the 10 doughnuts he’d gratefully munched on all in one day. He fingered the edge of his ear, gritting his teeth when he brushed over the sensitive new skin. Perhaps he should grow his hair a little longer, to conceal the marks on his neck.
He wished, if it had to happen at all, that it could have happened over the Christmas holidays, when he was safe in his own home and would have had his parents to comfort him. He knew that, in reality, he hadn’t been the only one who was relieved to be back in a familiar place, though. His memories from transformations were always patchy, but the overwhelming relief of the familiar small stone room had been present for him as well. Instead, back in that big, unfamiliar house after being safe at home not a month earlier had unsettled him . Agitated and restless, he’d screamed until his voice was hoarse and clattered up and down the hallways and stairs until he’d exhausted them. And then the frustrated clawing began.
Remus had woken up with scars to his face before. He leaned in closer to inspect them - a thin, silvery line from the corner of his mouth down to his chin and another, almost hidden in his hairline.
He’d been much smaller then. Thin, sharp, puppy-like claws that had made razor-like cuts. Unfortunately, Remus wasn’t the only one growing taller and stronger.
He fixed his tie and blinked hard, as though if he screwed up his face tight enough he could ring out his brain like a wet sponge and rid it of any thoughts.
It is what it is . Lily had been right about that. Nothing to be done about it now.
He bid goodbye to the Matron and slipped out into the second floor hallway. It was half eight at night. He’d hoped that if he left his departure until late, he’d bump into as few students as possible. If he only had to deal with Gryffindor tonight, that would be a blessed relief.
The Fat Lady raised her eyebrows at him, looking a little perturbed.
“Password?”
“Er, mayflower?” he said, hopeful that the password hadn’t changed in the week he’d been away. He needen’t have worried, the portrait swung open to admit him and he climbed in.
The common room was busy. Luckily, the kind of busy where there were so many students talking over the top of each other’s noise, not many people even glanced up to the portrait hole to notice the little first year slip through. He made his way to the dormitory staircase like a nervous cat, clinging to the walls of the room and hurried up the stairs to the safety of the first year dorm.
It was empty - thankfully. Remus flopped onto his bed with a relieved sigh, staring at the red canopy above him.
He hoped all of his Hogwarts full moons weren’t going to pan out like this. Hopefully the team at St Mungo’s would glean something useful from him.
He heard the clip of feet on stone stairs. Someone was joining him. Probably Peter or Sirius - he’d rarely observed James do anything other than thunder up and down stairs.
The door clicked open softly and he inclined his head. It was Sirius. Without his shadow, James. Remus sat up to greet him, relieved that Sirius was the first person he’d speak to. He wasn’t his closest friend, but he was much better at matching Remus’ quiet demeanour than James, or even Peter was.
“Remus…” Remus could feel Sirius’ eyes tracing his new scars and told himself not to cower away from his gaze. He would have to get used to people looking at him.
Sirius had always appeared put together and somewhat aloof to Remus, but there was something about his wide-eyed expression that reminded Remus that despite how well presented he was, he was no older, or more experienced than himself.
“What happened to you?” He seemed hesitant to come closer. Remus understood that feeling - his parents sometimes had that way about them. Everything was normal until the full moon, and then he was regarded as this strange, post-werewolf, fragile wounded animal for a few days, and then it wore off. Things had gotten better as he’d grown older, but it was a cold reminder to see that reaction again.
“Er… I went…” The excuse sounded ridiculous, now that he had to say it. “I tried to touch the trunk… Of the Willow.” He looked imploringly at Sirius, silently begging him to either believe, or if that was impossible, not question him further.
“Well, we’re glad to have you back.” Sirius said, weakly. He offered Remus a kind smile before adding, “James is going to think you look cool.”
~ * ~
Sirius and Remus kept each other company in the dormitory until late into the night. It took a while for Sirius to stop feeling surprised whenever he glanced at Remus’ face and was unexpectedly met with the loud scars, but eventually they faded into the background and it was like nothing much had changed. Remus certainly hadn’t, anyway. Sirius thought he was remarkably casual for someone who had recently been so brutally disfigured they’d had to miss over a week of school.
He remembered the scarred ankle.
Seems it isn’t the first time .
And then, the part of his brain (that it seemed James Potter possessed as well) that clung to theories and spun them like yarn started ticking.
McGonagall said they weren’t to visit him. Shafiq had stopped them from getting to the Hospital Wing. Remus wasn’t bothered about the injury, and he’d been injured before.
Remus’ mother was ill… and Remus had left before, to visit home.
Perhaps he hadn’t been in the Hospital Wing at all? Perhaps McGonagall had sent Shafiq to make sure that no one would go over there and find out that Remus was nowhere to be found.
And it wasn’t as though he’d never had the thought before, that if Remus’ mother was ill, and he kept having to visit her around the full moons…
Surely she hadn’t attacked him?
But that would mean…
Well, he couldn’t attend Hogwarts, he’d have to be registered. He would probably have to surrender his wand.
Sirius pulled the breaks on his thoughts abruptly.
He didn’t want Remus thinking about his secrets. He reminded himself of their wordless promise, and pushed the speculation deeper down where it hopefully wouldn’t catch any light to grow.
He’d promised .
He intended to keep his silent word.
“What were you doing by the tree, anyway?” Sirius asked, if anything, to reinforce in his own mind that we’re not going down that road .
“Oh!” Remus jumped, head snapping up from his book in alarm. He looked like a frightened rabbit. “Well, er, I’d heard rumours… yeah. There had been rumours about “if you touch the trunk of the Willow”, you know? So I thought, well, I was on the grounds alone and it was right there…”
Sirius had heard the rumour about touching the trunk of a willow. It was something that had originated from wandlore, he was fairly sure. He was also fairly sure it was nonsense, but Remus might not know that.
He absently wondered if Snape would fall for it if he told him…
“What were you doing on the grounds, anyway? It’s so cold. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do less than take an evening walk.”
This was a much easier lie. “Oh, I was going to visit the gamekeeper! He’s nice!”
Sirius sat up properly, considering his classmate. “The half-giant?” He hoped he’d managed to keep the judgement out of his tone.
“Er, maybe? I hadn’t really thought about it,” Remus answered, truthfully now. Sirius didn’t know how Remus couldn’t have thought of it. The man was monstrous in a way that his mother would absolutely call “unnatural.”
“There’s a rumour that he was expelled for killing a student,” said Sirius, conspiratorially. He’d heard it from his father. He recalled, in perfect detail, how furious the pair of them had been when they learned of Hagrid’s appointment as groundskeeper. He was sure they’d written to Dumbledore to voice their complaints. In retrospect, he would be delighted to get his hands on the headmaster’s response, if he did write back.
Remus had a touch of mirth in his bemused expression. “You are joking, aren’t you?” The corners of his mouth were twitching, as though he were trying to stop himself from laughing in disbelief.
Sirius, unfortunately, had been deadly serious, and Remus’ reaction threw him completely. So much so, that it took him a few seconds to adjust the angle from which to come at the topic, so as not to accidentally parrot some bigoted nonsense.
“Well, my parents weren’t, when they were talking about it. But I don’t just go believing everything they say.” He hoped that was enough to fix it. “So, what’s he like, then?”
Remus positively beamed. Sirius didn’t recall ever seeing him look so delighted.
“Oh, he’s great! I’ve only spoken to him a couple of times, but he’s so friendly. And he knows loads about animals - he told me that there’s unicorns in the forest!”
“Really?”
The Forbidden Forest was somewhere that Sirius had assumed was only forbidden due to the risk of children getting lost in it. He’d assumed the rumours of fantastical creatures were just students getting overexcited, but maybe there was some truth to it?
“Er, I think so. Don’t see why he would lie-”
The dormitory door banged open and James burst in, with Peter close behind him. Sirius rolled his eyes at the dramatic entrance and at the pet lip James was sporting.
“What’s the matter, did you lose?” he asked, innocently.
“Peter is a cheat,” James whined, stomping over to his bed and kicking off his shoes.
“Untrue,” Peter assured them cheerfully. He caught sight of movement by Remus’ bed and his face lit up. “You’re back!”
James turned too, pulled out of his moping by the sight of their friend.
“Remus! We have so much to show you!”
But Peter had faltered at the foot of Remus’ bed, close enough to see into the shadow cast by the bedposts and furniture. James’ enthusiasm melted at the look on Peter’s face and he clambered over his own bed to join him.
“Surprise,” Remus offered, awkwardly, forcing a smile. James just gaped for a moment, apparently waiting for his foolish thought generator to buffer, before splitting into a wide grin.
“Oh Remus, that looks so cool .”
~ * ~
He would never have imagined, if he’d been forewarned about last week before he had started Hogwarts, that the morning after he would be laughing along with three friends after having nearly torn his own face off a week prior. But here he was.
Here he was, brushing his teeth, like he was normal. Here he was, with Sirius helping him fix his tie, like he was normal. And there he was, delightedly reviewing their hand-drawn maps of a magical castle, making faces out of food on his breakfast plate to amuse them, sitting by the fire completing homework with them, laughing and enjoying the company of friends, as though he were normal.
It had been more than he could have hoped for. The moons would pass, and the scars would accumulate regardless, and so, bolstered by the steadfastness of his dorm-mates and the earnest promises of his secret-keeper, he breathed out and relaxed.
Perhaps he really was safe here, amongst friends.
Notes:
Sirius... you're getting warmer...
Thank you for reading, as always :)
Chapter 23: 12th February 1972
Summary:
Lighthearted fun for the Gryffindor girls, until the boys turn up
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A freezing cold Saturday in the Gryffindor tower found Lily, Marlene and Mary huddled around a small table near a window, plodding through History of Magic homework and trying not to fall asleep while snow assaulted the window pane behind them. Dorcas had refused to pull herself from her warm bed to do something so boring and, now that they were here writing it, they could hardly blame her.
“God, Charms after this too, it’s endless.” Marlene complained, thunking her forehead off the table in frustration. “Don’t they want us to enjoy our weekends?”
“Don’t worry about it, Mary,” Lily assured her through a yawn. “I’ve done it, you can just copy me.”
“Lifesaver.”
They stared blankly at the parchment in front of them for another few minutes before Mary apparently lost her temper. She snapped the textbook shut and screwed the lid back on her ink resolutely.
“I’m not having it, he’s a ghost, he can’t even hold a quill to mark it. Let’s do something fun.” It took very little to encourage Lily and Marlene to give up and they were more than happy to abandon their work. Revived by the pleasant thought of the whole Saturday stretched out in front of them with no school work, suddenly the weather was much more appealing.
“Reckon that colour change spell will work on snow?” Lily mused, absently. Mary shrugged.
“I’d hardly know, haven’t done the homework, have I?” She patted Lily excitedly on the arm. “Reckon it’ll count as extra studying if we go and test it? Sure Flitwick will appreciate the practical application.”
It was decided. Abandoning their textbook on the table, the three of them hurried up the girls’ dormitory staircase to collect their cloaks, scarves and gloves, waking Dorcas up in the process with their clattering. She emerged from her covers, curly orange hair in disarray, eyes bleary.
“Are we having fun yet?” she mumbled, sticking her head out of the red curtains to watch them rummaging through their trunks.
“Yeah, get up, we’re going out in the snow.” Mary informed her, throwing a scarf at her face.
Dorcas grinned, suddenly alert and jumped out of bed, hissing at the cold stone floor on her feet. “Okay, give me a minute, I’m coming.”
They piled on their warmest clothes and thundered down the stairs, heavy footed in their winter boots, chattering excitedly.
Out of the front doors, the grounds sprawled out before them, an endless blanket of snow, with only a few trails of footprints to mar it. To their left stood the Forbidden Forest, topped in white, but the trees so thick that the ground remained dark. Not far from the treeline was the groundskeeper’s hut - welcoming smoke rising from the chimney stack. Around to the right, the greenhouses were out of sight behind the castle walls and ahead of them, passed the Whomping Willow, was the Quidditch Pitch.
“Reckon the lake’s frozen?” asked Dorcas, leading them off to the left. “It feels cold enough. We could skate on it?”
They followed after her, debating whether the fun was worth the risk until they reached the secluded area where the lake bank met the forest.
Dorcas tested the water at the edge with her toe and it immediately cracked.
“Okay, forget that,” she hurriedly backed away from the lake. “Show us your charm, then?”
Lily glanced around for something to test it on and decided to pull together a neat snowball.
“Okay, cross your fingers,” she warned, pulling out her wand.
“ Dissimulo .”
The snowball obediently became green. Marlene ‘oooh’ed in delight, taking it from her to examine.
“How do you choose the colour?” She asked, admiring the green ice melting into green water.
Lily shrugged. “You’re supposed to imagine something that “exemplifies” that colour. But Flitwick said green was easiest. I can only seem to do green and blue.”
“Right, well we obviously have to build a cool fort,” announced Mary, gathering together an armful of snow and forming it into a neat block. Dorcas (who, shockingly, had not only studied the theory but also done the homework), got to colouring the snow-bricks sky-blue.
“What have you tried for pink?” Mary asked, red cheeked already. Lily shrugged.
“I didn’t manage pink, I couldn’t get anything I thought of to work. I tried pigs, but I’ve never actually seen a pig for real…” Lily trailed off for a moment, thinking back to waking up at Christmas and the familiar sight of her lilac wall that her and Petunia had painted years ago.
“I reckon I could do purple!” She announced excitedly, gesturing for Marlene to show her the snow that she was forming into a hard lump in her hands. Lily thought back to that comforting feeling of waking up and seeing the expanse of lilac instead of her Gryffindor hangings.
“Oh, cool!”
Lily grinned, pleased with herself. “I think I have the hang of it now!”
The four of them set about building a stout wall, Lily coaching Mary in the theory behind the Colour Change charm as they went until they stood back to admire their lilac and blue fortress, complete with battlements.
“Alright, a castle guard, now,” Dorcas commanded through chattering teeth, beginning to roll a gigantic snowman base. Mary started her own ball which Lily assumed was for the next segment, until she launched it as the back of Dorcas’ head.
“Or, we fight!” she cackled evilly, ducking behind their newly built fort.
The girls scattered like cockroaches at the sudden threat of attack, shrieking in excited fear. Lily shot into the treeline and swiftly scaled the Beech tree at the edge of the lake for a better vantage point. It proved excellent for surreptitiously sending snowballs down on her friend’s heads with a well-placed wingardium leviosa , but also allowed her to spot several small figures approaching in the distance.
She shook a nearby branch, creating a shower of snow and alerting her dorm-mates to her hiding spot.
“Look out!” She called, pointing to the advancing figures. “Enemy army approaching to the West!”
Mary groaned and rolled her eyes.
“It’s the Idiot Brigade,” she announced. “Should we ambush them?”
It took a few seconds of conspiratorial whispering before it was decided that Dorcas would run a stream of water across their path towards them and then freeze it before hiding with Mary and Marlene while Lily waited up in her tree for the second attack.
It seemed they were wise enough to realise that the disappearance of the girls and complete silence likely meant they were about to be attacked, but apparently hadn’t foreseen the whole plan. Lily thought she might ask Professor Slughorn to place her memory of Sirius Black slipping face-first into the snow in a vial, so she could revisit it in perfect clarity whenever she pleased.
Lily tried her best to keep her sniggering silent as she watched Sirius lie there in the snow for a moment, apparently composing himself, while Remus and Peter went red in the face with suppressed laughter, carefully tiptoe-ing past the slippy trap.
The girls on the ground were none the wiser, but Lily could clearly see James levitating a heap of loose snow over to the fort and so she steadied herself and took her shot. Tugging on her Gryffindor scarf that she’d secured around a branch a few feet away, she released a cascade of snow down onto James’ head. Marlene, Dorcas and Mary’s heads popped up behind their snow battlements to enjoy the fallout. James was spluttering and feeling through the snow for his glasses that had been knocked off his face, Sirius rubbing his bruised forehead and Remus and Peter smugly laughed, safe at the back of the group.
“That was a declaration of war!” called James, ramming his glasses back onto his face, looking damp, but excited. Dorcas held up her hands in a ceasefire, pointing behind the boys.
“Hold up, who’s this?”
Lily checked back and spotted who Dorcas had seen, a few paces behind. The hood of his winter cloak was up, but Lily couldn’t mistake his walk.
“Sev?” She called from the tree and he looked up at her, cheeks unusually pink from the cold and the gaze of eight students upon him.
“ Snivellus ?” Sirius sneered in disbelief, laughing derisively at the Slytherin. “I didn’t know you came out in daylight.”
Severus was about to retort but he was cut off by Lily’s call of; “Oh shut up!” as she jumped out of her position up the tree, landing behind the Gryffindor boys. “Back off, Black, you weren’t invited. What’s going on, Sev?”
Severus glanced bitterly at the Gryffindor boys before shoving through them and stepping up to Lily.
“Nothing, but…” he nodded towards their fort, raising his eyebrows in question. She obliged, leading him over to the girls. They didn’t look delighted, but they could hardly argue.
“Sorry, I just- I saw you and I thought, well, this might be fun.” He picked up one of their snowballs from the stash and held it out in his hand. “I learned it the other week. Ruptus !”
The snowball popped in his hand, showering them with a light dusting of snow.
Mary leaned forward, conspiratorially. “Snow grenades?” Dorcas was delighted, putting aside her distaste for Severus’ awkward manner to agree to his offer of allyship. She stood up from her crouch, revealing herself to the Gryffindor boys left waiting a few metres away.
“Yeah, alright Potter - you’re on!”
It was perhaps the first time that Lily had seen Severus play with any other students. In fact, if she really thought about it, they had never really played. They had talked and talked and daydreamed and imagined, but never played together like her and Petunia did. She tried not to let her (happy) bewilderedness show on her face as she watched him, tucked safely behind their blue-and-pink snow fortress wall, dutifully exploding each snowball that came near them from the Gryffindor boys.
For their part, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter had a few tricks up their sleeves. Remus had a neat little trick of sending their own projectiles back at them and James and Sirius seemed to be conspiring with Peter, who was furiously making a stack of ammo while Remus stood guard in front of him. It soon became clear what the plan had been when a steady succession of snowballs flew over their battlements, landing directly on Severus’ head. He moved to the other side of Marlene and Mary, but the cursed snowballs seemed to follow him, always landing squarely on the top of his head. Severus pulled his hood up, all traces of his spirited dedication gone, replaced with a trademark scowl.
Marlene laughed as another snowball broke on the top of his head.
“Guess Black has good aim,” she commented, lightly. Severus’ teeth were gritted.
“It’s not aim, he’s cheating,” Severus spat furiously, swiftly casting ruptis at the next incoming projectile to spare himself.
“It’s just snow,” she said, reasonably. Lily knew Severus well enough that it wasn’t just snow . On the one hand, it was a snowball fight, and it was snow. On the other hand, she knew that Severus was always on a hair-trigger, waiting for a slight to come so that he could retaliate. She was well aware that it was hardly unjustified - he’d spent his whole childhood on eggshells and he was certainly targeted both at Hogwarts and in Cokework - but his habit did tend to escalate things. She would rather he were easier to laugh things off.
She watched, unwilling to step in this time, as Severus stormed around their barricade and trudged up to the other boys, popping projectiles as he went. The laughs on James, Peter, Sirius and Remus’ faces faltered a little, once Severus made it across no mans’ land. Lily shrugged at her dorm mates dispassionately. If Black, Potter and Pettigrew were going to wind him up, she certainly wasn’t going to keep running between them. Severus could handle himself.
Severus and James were of similar heights, though James was certainly stockier. Sirius, however, was tall enough to look down on Severus when he stood next to him.
Sirius smirked.
“Just thought we’d do you a favour and wet your hair. Been a while since you’ve washed it, has it?”
Severus shoved him, hard in the chest and Sirius stumbled, but didn’t fall. James looked a little startled, not expecting Severus to get physical.
“Watch it, Snape,” warned James, though his voice was still light. “I’d suggest picking on someone your own size, but I’m not sure there’s anyone else in your weight class attending.”
The ability to form a sentence seemed to have left Severus in his bubbling mixture of humiliation and fury. Seemingly remembering himself, he pointed his wand directly in James’ face.
“Ruptus!”
Blood gushed from James’ nose and mouth, splattering the snow as he spluttered and coughed. Lily could only catch a fleeting look from Severus before he’d stormed back to the castle. The girls emerged, spirits and knees dampened as they crowded around to inspect the damage. James was pinching his nose and gagging at the taste of his own blood. It seemed that, along with giving him an impressive nosebleed, Severus had split his bottom lip.
“Your pal’s a right piece of work,” Sirius snapped at Lily, pulling on the arm on James’ cloak to nudge him towards the castle doors. “Goodness knows why you’d want to spend time with a worm like that .”
The four of them trudged up to the castle, a spotty trail of blood following them in the snow. Lily turned, nervously to the Gryffindor girls, a little sickened.
“I didn’t know he was going to do something like that,” she said, feeling a little defensive under Marlene’s reproachful look. “I don’t think he could have even known it was going to be that bad…”
Mary sighed, giving Lily a weary one-armed hug. “He’s a weird one Lily, but to be fair, they did start it. Say we go in and get changed? I’m damp and cold and I could do with some lunch.”
Notes:
This chapter gave me so much grief. I’m not great with multiple OCs, and Mary, Marlene and Dorcas are basically OCs tbh, they have no canon character. Thanks to everyone who helped brainstorm this chapter.
Also, Severus just getting more autistic by the day, damn.
Thanks for reading, love u <3
Chapter 24: 17th February 1972
Summary:
Just a weird little Snape and Lily chapter :)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It took about 3 seconds for Madame Pomfrey to stem James’ nosebleed, repair his split lip and vanish the majority of the blood from his robes. It was a shame that Severus’ reputation (already on thin ice) with the Gryffindor first years wasn’t so easily repaired. Not that he was doing anything to endear himself to them. Lily found herself between a rock and a hard place, sympathetic as always to Severus’ isolation and loyal to her oldest friend in the school, but also unable to ignore that he had overreacted massively to Potter and Black’s antics and forced her to have to try and defend their friendship to her dorm-mates.
Since Severus had broken the seal and pushed the antics with Potter and Black from minor jinxes to outright injury, it had brought out the worst in the two of them. Lily had spent many a library session with Remus listening to him troubling about the roads they were going down with their research - apparently delving deep into transfiguration in (successful) attempts to turn Severus’ peas into a writhing mound of earwigs and casting “accio” on his shoelaces to trip him in the corridors. Not even a week later, she would be secreted away in the dusty History of Alchemy section of the library with her old friend, trying her hardest not to also get excited about the possibilities of spell-crafting since the appearance of his new spell book.
She knew the book was bad business - maybe not inherently, but certainly in Severus’ hands while he was in a vengeful mood, but she couldn’t help but be intrigued.
It was handwritten, in a soft cover jotter, with small, neat writing. Obviously the final project of many months, maybe years, of experimentation. They huddled together, shoulder to shoulder amongst the shelves where nobody could see them and poured over the pages.
“Here, look, this is how I did it,” Severus flicked through the pages and settled on a passage about human and non-human targets.
“Oh, Sev…” Lily read down the brief synopsis, interested, but upset by the application.
It was very complicated. Lily only just grasped where the author had been going with their theory about transfiguration, and its application to charms when wanting to convert a charm from use in inanimate objects, to animals and to humans.
“This is really complicated, Sev. What if you’d made a horrible mistake. McGonagall said you can’t be messing around with human transfiguration for years.”
Severus hmmed, unbothered. “It’s only Potter,” he assured her. “Any transfiguration could only improve him.”
Lily chose not to push the point. She would hardly get anywhere with it.
“So that was a spell which was originally for human use, that I adapted the other way, for the snowballs, right? But, I was thinking about accio and wingardium leviosa .” Said Severus. He leaned back against the shelves, watching Lily. “Imagine being able to make someone fly?”
Lily thought back to those warm evenings in the park with Petunia, when they had been much younger.
“I almost flew, remember?” she said. “The day we first met.”
Severus nodded. “Think you could still do it?” he asked, a little cheekily. Lily rolled her eyes.
“Suppose I’ll jump from the Astronomy Tower to test it, yeah?”
Severus snorted and Lily couldn’t hold back a laugh either. It hadn’t even been a year and she felt miles away from that raw magic that was simply a part of her, running wild, begging her to tame it with her will. Now, it seemed like something which crept in the shadows that she had to drag out of the end of her wand, with special movements and nonsense words.
“Do you ever think…” Lily trailed off, looking for the right words. “Don’t you wonder if magic schools didn’t exist and people didn’t have spells and wands, that this crazy pure-blood stuff and dark magic wouldn’t happen?” She couldn’t look at Severus, instead playing all the memories of her accidental magic over in her head. “Sometimes, I think that.”
She could feel him staring at the side of her head. There was a long silence before he spoke.
“I think that… not everyone’s accidental magic is the same.”
He left it hanging between them and Lily risked a glance at him. He looked uncharacteristically sad.
Of course her magic was fun and whimsical. Her childhood was fun and whimsical. How could she imagine what magic might’ve burst out of Severus in that dingy house on Spinner’s End?
“Sorry, Sev.”
“Don’t apologise.”
The house on Spinner’s End always had the curtains drawn. Petunia refused to knock. There was a small garden out the front, barely big enough to contain a bike, and surrounded by a short brick wall with an iron fence atop it.
Lily found it unfriendly. Instead of grass, the small section of brick paving was overrun by weeds and the two stone steps that led to the front door were cracked by time.
The door was wooden, with a coating of once-glossy black paint, now chipped from years of rain. She rapped a small fist on the door and stepped back, immediately regretful of her own bravery.
The curtains in the window to her right twitched and she flinched. She could hear footsteps in the hallway. They must have wooden floors.
The door opened with the grunt of swollen wood and a man stared down at her. She noticed his hands immediately. Broad, with wide fingers and the perpetually dirty fingernails of a labourer. He had a head of thick, dark hair which, along with his thick, dark eyebrows, cast his face into shadow. Dark eyes stared down a broad, straight nose at the little ginger girl by the gate.
He said nothing. Lily looked back to get a reassuring glance from Petunia, but found she was alone in the street.
Lily turned her attention to the sliver of hallway she could see behind him. It was dark and revealed little. The doors she could see were closed. The staircase led up into mystery.
“Er, does Severus want to come out and play?” she asked, embarrassed at how small her voice was.
The man continued to stare down at her, apparently not registering the request. She wondered if he was hard of hearing. She opened her mouth to repeat herself, but he scowled at her, and stepped back. Lily took the invitation hesitantly, with one last glance for her runaway sister.
“Stand there,” he commanded, pointing at the wall by the door. Lily obeyed, crossing the threshold and rooting herself to the spot. The house smelled like mildew and old cigarettes. The walls were bare plaster, patchy peach separated by the chipped dado rail. The man turned away from her and opened the door nearest them that must’ve led to the room at the front of the house, likely the living room. Before he closed it behind him, he turned to shout up the staircase.
“Eileen! Get your son!”
Lily jumped as the door slammed.
She was alone and the house was quiet. Then, a pale face at the top of the stairs.
“Sev?”
He hurried down to the ground floor, scowling, and walked right past her, wrenching the door open and disappearing out. After a moment, Lily nervously followed him.
He was halfway down the street, face thunderous. She called after him, but he ignored her. It was only when they were at the end of the road and Petunia emerged from the back alley did he round on Lily.
“Why would you come by?” his teeth were gritted, fists balled. Lily was taken aback.
“I was just coming to seek on you-”
“Don’t you have other friends? Play with someone else, just don’t come around again!”
Petunia, seemingly done with the argument, stood resolutely in front of Severus, obscuring Lily from him. He tried to step around her, but she blocked him.
“You’re lucky you even have a friend like Lily, if this is the way you speak to all of them.” Petunia chastised.
“Shut up, muggle!” Severus bit out, pushing her so he could go back to arguing at Lily. Petunia was wordless at the meaningless insult, but Lily, brought to action by the slight against her sister, stepped forward and pointed a finger roughly at Severus’ chest.
“Don’t think you can talk to my sister like that, whether we’re friends or not,” Lily hissed, her eyes were hard. “Don’t make me regret being friends with you.”
Severus’ eyes bore into hers, his mouth a hard line. They stood like that for several moments. The street, quiet and empty and the two children glowering at each other. Lily’s eyes began to brim with frustrated tears. Petunia stood to the side, furious at the little boy who called her names and made her sister cry, and furious at his awful family, for making him so prickly.
Severus walked off into the alleyway, clearly not wanting to be followed. Lily turned to her older sister, whose expression softened at her tears.
“Ignore him,” she said bluntly, but meaning well. Lily’s lip quivered, a strange wave of queasy regret threatening to spill over. Petunia pulled her closer and hugged her, awkwardly.
“Thanks for sticking up for me,” Petunia said, very quietly. Lily didn’t look at her. She knew her sister would only turn away. Her reply was muffled into Petunia’s arm, but she heard her just fine.
“I’m his first friend, but you’re mine.”
“I think…” Severus’ voice was small, but sure. “I think that- that wizards should be able to be separate from muggles, if they want… I think sometimes, it’s for the best.”
Lily looked at him, really looked at him. The round, dark, flat eyes, with heavy, tired lids. His hair, getting long now, obscured a lot of his face. He’d never cared for it, really. It had always looked limp and sad. The greyed uniform, rough and pilled. The shirt sleeves were too long, but the vest too short. He’d always been like that, since she’d met him. Uncared for and a little sad.
She didn’t mind uncared for and sad. Perhaps she might mind what it could do to a person. But, for now, uncared for and sad was not a crime.
Notes:
Next chapter is gonna be chunky.
Thanks for reading, as always :)~BS
Chapter 25: 25th March 1972
Summary:
James and Sirius stay back for the Easter holidays
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sirius woke up late on the morning of the 25th to the peaceful silence of the Gryffindor dorm. He’d turned in early, falling asleep to the sounds of his dorm-mates packing for the Easter Holidays. While he was relieved that he was spared the misery of returning to his parents’ for the two week break, the idea of being completely alone in the dorm was a little disconcerting. He’d spent a lot of time being lonely, but not a lot of time alone. The heavy curtains blocked most of the light from outside, but he knew it would be a bright day. The night before had been a grim torrent of brutal wind and rain, clearing the way for Spring to start proper.
He kicked the heavy covers off himself, bracing himself before his bare feet touched the stone floor. He tugged the curtains open to see…
A foot?
A bare foot, sticking out of the half-pulled curtains of the neighbouring bed. Most of the covers had fallen to the floor.
Surely he hadn’t overslept and missed the floo?
Sirius picked up his wand from his bedside table and poked James’ foot with the tip. The foot was retracted back into the safety of the four-poster, but James slept on. Rolling his eyes, Sirius pulled the hangings open abruptly, letting the rail clang, and rapped with his knuckles on the back of James’ head.
“Hey, James, you’ve missed the floo.”
James jerked to life, flipping onto his back and staring with blank, wide-eyes at Sirius. His face was lined where he’d slept with it pressed into the creases of the pillow. It seemed to take a few moments for his mind to catch up to his body, then he yawned loudly and rubbed the grit out of the corners of his eyes, blinking blearily up at his dorm-mate. Sirius didn’t often see him without his glasses on and found the unfocused gaze a little disconcerting.
“Of course I didn’t miss the floo,” he mumbled, reaching out a hand to grope for his glasses on the table. “I’m staying, aren’t I?”
He said it like it was obvious.
“You never said…”
James sat up, tugging his fallen covers back onto his bed. “Well, maybe I forgot to mention. But I did put my name down to stay - you didn’t see?”
“I didn’t really look.” Sirius confessed. Why would he bother? It wouldn’t have changed his decision.
“Well, surprise!” he said, smiling quite kindly at Sirius. “Though, I’m the one who should be getting surprises - birthday on Monday, did’ja know?”
He did know. James hadn’t failed to mention it on multiple occasions in the preceding weeks. It was half of the reason why Sirius had assumed he would be going home. That, and that James actually liked his family.
“Aren’t your parents expecting you?” Sirius asked, still standing bare-foot and confused between their beds, watching James root around in his trunk for a towel.
“No, I told them I was staying, obviously. Besides, I don’t know that many people ‘round near where I live. I can have a better party with my best friend here, right?” The sheer wattage of James’ bright smile and the assuredness in his voice had Sirius nodding in agreement, the infectious joy spreading to his own face.
“Yeah, we’ll have loads of fun.”
The two of them, showered and dressed in their weekend clothes, made their way down to the Great Hall to see if there was anything decent left of breakfast - though not overly concerned now that they knew how to find the kitchens. Only one student table was out in the hall, as hardly any had stayed behind. Sirius spotted his cousin and Head Girl, Andromeda, along with the Head Boy, who was in Ravenclaw. Next to them was who he believed to be one of the Hufflepuff Prefects, chatting to the first year that they shared Herbology and Flying lessons with; Benjie Fenwick.
Most of the Ravenclaw quidditch team were present - perhaps hoping to get some practice in while the pitch was in low demand. It seemed they were the only Gryffindor first-years present, though at the end of the table, a book in one hand and a spoonful of porridge in the other, was Severus Snape.
Sirius and James shared a glance, before sitting themselves as far away from the Slytherin as they could manage, ending up opposite the Head Boy and Andromeda.
“Morning, Little Imp,” Andromeda said cheekily as Sirius made himself a sausage and bacon sandwich.
James choked on his glass of water and had to be slapped on the back by the Ravenclaw beater (judging by his arms) before he turned to Sirius, eyes watering.
“ Little Imp ?” he croaked in disbelief.
Sirius shrugged, smiling at Andromeda and trying not to go red in the face.
“You can’t make fun of me,” he said, seriously. “My cousins’ the Head Girl.
Andromeda snorted. “Yeah, right, I’ve got better things to do than save you from this idiot.” She smiled wryly at them before turning back to the Head Boy. He had thick, short dreads and a single, gold earring. Sirius fingered his own ear thoughtfully, wondering how he would look with one.
James interrupted his thoughts.
“So, what’s the plan, then?” he asked excitedly, between spoonfuls of yoghurt. Sirius looked at him blankly.
“I didn’t really plan anything. I thought it was going to be just me, remember? I was just going to catch up on homework and then explore a bit, I suppose.”
James twisted his face in distaste. “Well, we can keep exploring on the roster - plenty of places we haven’t seen yet - but I’m not doing homework for two weeks and definitely not on my birthday week .” He said it as though it was some kind of sacrilege and Sirius couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I say we try and make some headway on our map, too. Plus, I think we’ve got some reading to do.”
James nodded towards Severus at the other end of the table, whose nose was barely an inch away from the page he was reading.
“Can’t let him get ahead of us.”
“Whatever you two are planning,” Andromeda said, getting up to leave the table. “Just don’t embarrass me, alright?” She brushed a few flakes of croissant from the front of her neat green robes. “See you around Imp, Imp’s classmate.”
James stared after her, his mouth hanging open. Sirius knew it was coming before he spoke.
“ Imp’s classmate ?” James shook his head, aghast. “Rude.”
“Oh give over,” Sirius said, smirking. “She’s just winding you up. Finish your breakfast. Looking at Snape is turning my stomach.”
The boys left the table, each with a pastry in hand, and headed off towards the grounds. It was nearing ten in the morning, and the day was shaping up cold and bright. What remained of yesterdays’ vicious wind gently tugged at their hair as they wandered aimlessly down towards the greenhouses, the Quidditch Pitch in the far distance on their left.
“She seems alright,” James commented lightly. It took Sirius a moment to realise he must have been talking about Andromeda.
“Yeah, she’s my favourite cousin,” he said, smiling at the memory of their trip on the Underground, Christmas just gone.
“How many cousins do you have?”
Sirius gave James a sideways glance. Should he even get into this? Or would it be even weirder to shut it down? He supposed, if James really wanted to know, the information was there to be found. His family tree was hardly a secret.
“A few. Andromeda, Narcissa, Bellatrix…” he didn’t wait for James’ reply before continuing on. “Some others, but they aren’t at Hogwarts right now, or are more distant. You know how sacred 28 families are. Everyone’s a cousin.”
James didn’t answer and strangely, Sirius found more words tumbling out.
“Don’t know how Andromeda turned out so nice but Bella and Narcissa are… Well, Narcissa never says much to me, but Bellatrix is weird. She used to lock me and my brother in the bathroom when she’d come over to visit. Well, you know what they say about the 28, anyway.”
“No,” James looked blankly at him and Sirius felt himself scrambling a little, regretting bringing it up now that he had to explain it.
“Er, well they say that people start going a bit mad, in the Sacred 28 families, because people want to keep the pure blood line, so they pair off with second cousins and then…”
“Oh, right…”
“Sometimes I worry I’ll go mad like that. I don’t know how true it all is, but I’d believe it about my parents.”
James looked genuinely interested and it made Sirius’ stomach clench.
“What do you mean? Well, I know you don’t like them much, but what do you mean ‘mad’?”
Sirius began to pull layers of pastry off his croissant nervously, this was untrodden ground. Thoughts he’d never said aloud. A window he’d never allowed anyone to look into. He stole another glance at James, rosy-cheeked in the cold, trying to eat his cinnamon swirl without dropping any.
He supposed he could trust him.
“They’re… not right , I think, sometimes.” It was hard to articulate. How did he describe the way they made him uneasy when they were kind, and relieved when they were shouting and ranting? Maybe he was the mad one. “They just… flip, sometimes. Well, my dad less so, but my mother… She can really seem to change from one person to another. It’s hard to know how to act to keep her happy. And then sometimes I think, why do I even want to keep her happy at all?”
There was a little moment of silence and it made Sirius want to vomit. He wished he could eat his own words, then disassemble himself and tuck the pieces away in a little box to be locked and dropped in the sea.
“Well, I don’t think you’re mad,” said James. He’d stopped walking and was looking thoughtfully over at the Quidditch Pitch. “And I don’t think it’s weird to want to make your family happy. Seems unfair though, since they don’t seem interested in making you happy.”
Oh what he’d give to be able to say such things with certainty.
“Thanks,” he whispered, taking the opportunity to wring his hands together in an attempt to dissipate some of the awful tension in his nerves while James was still looking away.
Uncharacteristically thoughtful, James seemed to be giving him a moment to compose himself. He set them off, down the sloping hill towards the boathouse. It wasn’t a route that was easy to walk. The stairs were there for a reason. Now that their pastries were eaten (or, in Sirius’ case, deconstructed) they had their hands free to scramble down the steep hill.
“What’s your brother like, then?” James asked. “Is he like you? He’s coming next year, right?”
Sirius hummed thoughtfully. “Well, he’s not really like me, I suppose. My parents like him more than me, so that’s something. But I’m not sure if it’s a good thing. He’s alright though. We were closer when we were younger, but he was happy to see me at Christmas. That was nice.”
“I wish I had a brother,” said James, wistfully. “My parents said that I’m ‘quite enough to be getting on with’ so I suppose that’s that. Plus, they’re old now.”
Sirius laughed. He couldn’t help but agree on that. “I suppose mine thought they might need a backup,” he joked. James gave him a sly glance, climbing up onto the wall that protected the boathouse stone staircase from snow.
“They weren’t wrong.”
James held out a hand for Sirius so he could scramble up the wall to join him. They stood there for a moment, daring the wind to topple them over, basking in the view of the sunlight on the water, the rolling hills beyond it and the towering castle behind them.
“Shame for you that your family are nuts, but I’m glad you’re nothing like them. We can be like brothers. And if you need a better family, you can borrow mine.”
Sirius was glad for the cold wind stinging his eyes so that he didn’t have to confront the possibility that he was crying.
~ * ~
By the time they’d made it back up the boathouse stairs, around the grounds to the suspension bridge and in through the clocktower courtyard, they were both ravenously hungry again and on the much safer conversational territory of Severus Snape and his odd spells.
“I’d love to know how he did it - I mean, I’ve tried it since, and I couldn’t even cut myself with it. Ruptus is for boils, not for flesh.”
Sirius decided to ignore the notion that James had been so intent on figuring out how Severus was bastardising spells that he had been testing them on himself. “It could have been a happy accident, to be fair,” he suggested. “We don’t know that he’d even done that spell before. I mean, where would you practise it?”
“What in God’s name have you two been doing?”
It was the Head Boy, stood on the staircase leading up to the first floor, looking down at them in disbelief. Sirius looked down at himself and then at James, realising for the first time that their knees and shins were covered in mud from where they’d scrambled down the hill, still damp from the night before.
“We went for a walk,” James offered, smiling brightly. “Your name is Kingsley, right?”
“Er, yes. Come here, you’re a state.”
James and Sirius obeyed. Once they were in front of him, Kingsley muttered a spell and removed the worst of the mud from their trousers. They thanked him, admiring his work.
“Say, what’s that spell?” James asked, innocently.
Kingsley narrowed his eyes. “Just scourgify ,” he said. “Maybe you could manage it, it’s a third-year spell, but it’s quite simple.”
“Is it a charm, or transfiguration?”
They followed him up the stairs. Sirius didn’t know quite where James was going with his line of questioning, but he was sure he was plotting something.
“It’s a charm…” Kingsley stopped on the stairs and turned around to look at them, his face full of suspicion. “I don’t know why, but I feel like you two are up to something.”
“We’re not!” Sirius assured him. James nodded emphatically.
“See, we got that homework a few months ago about the origins of spells, and it’s just interesting.”
Kingsley raised his eyebrow. “Yeah, I wasn’t born yesterday. Go wash up for lunch, you’re getting nothing out of me. If you want it, go and read it.”
He stepped aside, gesturing for them to go ahead of him. Knowing when to accept defeat, they complied, jogging up the stairs and diverging to the right to make their way to Gryffindor tower.
“Ugh, he’s too good. Glad he’s not in Gryffindor, we wouldn’t be getting away with anything.” James griped, The two of them obediently washed their muddy hands and James attempted scourgify on his dirty shoes. Predictably, it didn’t do much.
“Wonder if any of the third years stayed behind?” He mused, leading the way down to the common room and checking the list.
“Alice Fortiscue, she’s a third year, isn’t she?” Sirius asked, pointing her out.
“Brilliant, let’s ask her, then.”
James took off for the door to the girls’ dormitory staircase before Sirius could argue that she may not even be up there. He needn't have bothered. James had made it about halfway up the staircase before a shriek like an air-raid siren sounded and the stairs collapsed into a stone slide, depositing him in a heap back onto the common room rug. Sirius looked down at James, who was a tangle of limbs and red in the face.
“Why has no one ever mentioned to me that this happens?” James grumbled, righting himself as the siren died out.
A voice called out from the top of the staircase, stifling laughter.
“Frank?”
“Who's Frank?” James shouted back up. “I’m James!”
The mystery girl appeared at the bottom of the slide, much more neatly than James, still laughing.
“Oh! A first year! The first-year girls all went home for Easter, you know?”
Sirius offered his hands out for James and the girl to pull themselves up.
“We weren’t looking for the first-year girls. Are you Alice?”
“Er, yes?” She took Sirius’ offered hand and stood. She was a good few inches taller than Sirius, and positively towered over James. She had shoulder-length dark blonde hair and kind, brown eyes. The inescapable blight of several small red spots marred her chin and she scratched at them, absently. “Why were you looking for me? You’re a Black, right?” She nodded at Sirius. “And James who?”
Sirius answered while James recovered from ‘James who’. “Sirius and Potter,” he introduced. “We were just interested in a third year spell, sorry to disturb you,” he tried on his own version of James’ winning smile. “Could we borrow your copy of The Standard Book of Spells Grade 3?”
Alice recovered from the unusual request quite quickly. “Er, yeah? Give it back to me before holidays are over, okay?” She disappeared up the now reformed staircase to retrieve it.
James stood on his tiptoes to lean into Sirius’ ear.
“Who's Frank?”
~ * ~
They ended up walking down to lunch with Alice, who was very chatty and happy to introduce them to some of the older students who had stayed behind. They met her friend Frank, a Gryffindor fourth year with thick, brown hair and a broad torso who was shovelling down fork-fulls of haggis. Jude Sutton and Liam Marsh, the Ravenclaw beaters, were friendly with Alice, who had failed to mention until this point that she was the Gryffindor keeper. James was immediately star-struck and could not be moved from the topic for the next half-hour.
Sirius sat through it, slightly interested. He had no real background with Quidditch, but it seemed like it could be interesting. And at this point, if he used how upset he thought his parents were going to be as a gauge of how fun something was, he should probably try it out.
For now, though, he was much more interested in flicking through Alice’s spell-book to get a peek at what might be coming up in a few years’ time. There were a few interesting transfiguration spells that he would be happy to try out on Snape in the future. The conversation mostly washed over him, but he would be hard-pressed to ignore James’ excited gasp at the revelation Xander Brooks and Thomas Wright (both Gryffindor chasers) were in seventh year. James gripped Sirius’ shirt sleeve tightly and practically squealed into his ear.
“That means at least two chaser spots opening up next year! I’m in for sure ! Will you try out with me?” His brown eyes were huge and pleading, despite being minimised by the strength of his glasses’ prescription.
“Well, I’ve never really played before,” Sirius warned him, but it apparently meant nothing.
“Don’t worry, we’ll practise before tryouts! I’ll let you borrow my broom! C’mon, it’ll be loads of fun!”
Alice laughed at his antics. “Well, we’ll have a new captain next year too, since Xander’s going, so most likely everyone will have to re-try. It’s your best opportunity to give it a go.”
Sirius shrugged and agreed. Why not? After all, how jealous would Reg be if he got his own broom?
James punched the air in delight and gave the Ravenclaw beaters a cheeky eyebrow wiggle.
“Watch out, boys.”
Lunch wound down and Sirius bided his time, waiting for a few of the older students (particularly the prefects) to leave the table, before he nudged James and pointed to Alice’s book.
“This what you wanted?”
James leaned over to have a look, scanning the entry on scourgify .
“Oooh, yes,” he said happily, pulling the book towards him. He read it over again, and pointed his wand at the glass he’d just used.
“Scourgify!”
The dregs definitely disappeared, but Sirius would hardly call it ‘clean’.
“Can you let me know why you’re suddenly so obsessed with this spell?” Sirius asked. James poured a mouthful of juice back into the glass, swigged it, then tried again.
“Well, I was thinking, since the snow didn’t do much, perhaps we should try again to do Snivillius another favour and just… give him a wash. Scourgify!”
The dregs, again, emptied, but it still smelled of orange juice.
“I mean, perhaps if we gave his hair a wash, someone other than Evans would be able to stand being near him,” James said dryly. He quickly read over the passage again.
“But the thing is, I was really hoping that, since it’s a charm, it might work just like the colour change charm. You know how we had to imagine really literally, what we wanted? Well I’m right, look.” He pointed down at the page to the short paragraph that described how the caster was to imagine, as accurately as they could, cleaning the object by hand in their mind's eye. “Watch this.”
James attempted the spell again, and this time, the glass began to overflow with soap bubbles. He shot Sirius a wicked look.
“Oh, I honestly think you’d be doing him a favour, scrubbing him up for Easter,” Sirius agreed, now trying out the spell for himself. “Evans might thank you.”
“Doubt it,” James grunted, rolling her eyes. “That girl doesn’t know what’s good for her.”
They practised diligently until they were the last two at the table, with McGonagall looking down at them from the teacher’s table with slight suspicion. Not that it was a crime to clean your glasses after lunch.
The opportunity arose sooner than they could have dreamed. On their way to the library, they spotted the familiar head of stringy black hair. He was still wearing his uniform, despite the holidays. Sirius suspected it was due to the state of his clothes, having had the misfortune to catch a glance at him on the occasional weekend.
“Oi, Snivels!” James called, sounding delighted to see him. Snape stiffened and whipped around, his wand out already.
“Now now,” James held his hands up, as though placating a furious toddler. “I haven’t even done anything yet - bit rude to point your wand at me.”
“Potter, you’re a real embarrassment to Gryffindor, you must know that,” Snape spat out, flicking his wand between the two of them. James looked genuinely confused.
“Er, what?”
“You must be joking,” Snape snapped. “Going on like you’re full of chivalry and goodwill, but you’re just as bad as anyone ever accuses a Slytherin of being.”
“Shut up, Snape.” James said dismissively. He tried to cast a leg locker under his breath, but Snape dodged it.
“No, you shut up! You’re a pampered little bully, and that’s all you’ll ever be. At least Black has a chance of being a respectable pure blood. Your muggle loving family robbed you of that. The least you could do is be a proper little Gryffindor and beha-”
“Scourgify!”
Sirius suspected that the moment didn’t play out quite as it had in James’ mind’s eye. For one, James’ wand hand was uncharacteristically shaky, and there was no laughter in the hallway, just the awful sound of Snape choking on soapy bubbles as they poured past his lips. Despite his difficulties speaking over his own spluttering, he was able to cast another ruptus , but Sirius was too quick for him, and shoved James out of the way, readying his own wand at Snape, a moment too late.
“Stupify!”
Sirius didn’t know the spell, but it hit him squarely with a tidal wave of nausea. The floor seemed to lurch up to meet him, but he didn’t quite hit it. It took a moment to realise that James had caught him by the arm.
“What the hell have you done to him?”
James’ voice sounded both too loud and far away. He blinked, dazed, and saw Snape looking at him, a mixture of shock and interest on his face. The world tipped, and he was now looking at James, down a long tunnel.
“Snape! What’s wrong with him?” James asked, urgently, looking between Sirius’ face and Snape. The movement was making Sirius queasy. He didn’t hear an answer from Snape, and obliged at the feeling of James pulling firmly on his upper arm, leading them out of the library hallway and towards the staircase.
James tried to pull him down the stairs, but Sirius gripped the bannister tightly, shaking his head and pressing his lips together, firmly. The ground was lurching and he was sure he’d end up in a heap at the bottom. Thankfully, he was saved the journey when a yellow striped quidditch jumper appeared behind them, likely worn by someone tall.
“Boys?”
James was rambling at the mystery man beside him, but Sirius was too busy trying to keep his lunch down to pay much attention. He was relieved of the task of keeping himself upright when he was hefted over the shoulder of Hufflepuff-Jumper and carried down the stairs, James buzzing after them like an anxious fly.
Once deposited in the hospital wing, it took a little while of fussing from Madame Pomfrey before she seemed to garner what had happened. A simple tap on his head had the world righting itself and the nausea abated. Sirius thanked her profusely, praying she wouldn’t ask too many questions about the state of him, assuming she’d sussed out that it was a duel that had done it. Thankfully, she merely fixed him with a hard stare before returning to her office, leaving them alone with his mystery rescuer. Now that Sirius could lift his head without gagging, he recognised the Hufflepuff prefect they’d seen talking to Benjie Fenwick at breakfast. He was blonde, and soft-spoken.
“Alphonse,” he said, answering Sirius’ silent question. “Do I need to escort you two all the way up to the Tower, or will you stay out of trouble long enough to make it there yourselves?”
“Sorry, Alphonse. We’ll be fine. Thanks for bringing me.”
“Yeah, no problem. I will be snitching on you to McGonagall, though. I know you got hit with a messy Stupify and I ran into soapy-mouth Snape on the way. It’s barely even the start of the Easter Holidays and you’re already getting into fights. I know for a fact Shafiq covered for you a few months ago, too. I’m not saying I’ll mention that, but you two obviously think you can just get away with anything.”
James and Sirius looked at eachother grimly. They could hardly talk their way out of that, so it seemed a case of accepting their fate.
The pair trudged up to the common room, spiritlessly. What had all seemed a good joke had quickly come crashing down around them, and now they had the looming fear of what McGonagall might say to them to sour their evening.
Sure enough, there were matching letters on their bedside tables when they made it up to the dormitory.
Sirius Black,
I’ve been informed by the Hufflepuff prefect, Alphonse Short, that you and James Potter were involved in an altercation with Severus Snape that he suspects involved the use of poorly applied and inappropriate magic, unsupervised in the school corridors. Need I remind you that this is not only humiliating for Gryffindor first-years to have been caught misbehaving by a Hufflepuff prefect, but that it is also extremely dangerous.
The groundskeeper has kindly agreed to take the two of you early on Sunday morning for a detention which I pray will keep you out of trouble. After this, I would like the two of you to submit me a full and detailed essay on the dangers of using unmastered spells on human beings. You may turn them in to me on Wednesday evening.
I shall send dinner up to your dormitory. Please stay there.
Regards,
Professor McGonagall
Notes:
You can all give a big thanks to Alex0 for reading this one over - this fic hasn't had a beta reader since 2016... An inconsistency was changed in the earlier chapters, too.
Chapter 26: 26th March 1972
Summary:
James and Sirius do the time for their crime
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sunday morning found the two Gryffindor first years trudging solemnly down the grounds towards the groundskeeper’s hut, shivering a little in the early breeze. James had never spoken to him, but he knew Remus spoke highly of him - Sirius had assured him as they were getting dressed. It was lucky that he had such a benign review to counter his intimidating presence. As they reached him, James had to crane his neck to get a proper look at his face, which was mostly obscured by a wiry tangle of beard and hair.
“Potten an’ Black, is it?” he asked, squinting down at them in the morning light. “McGonagall was tellin’ me youse have been causin’ plenty o’ trouble. I’m Rubeus Hagrid, but everyone jus’ calls me Hagrid.”
James nodded, but didn’t otherwise answer - he could hardly argue. It seemed Sirius was of a similar mindset.
“Muffliato got ye, has it?” He asked them, lightheartedly. “C’mon, bit o’ walking around’ll get ye talkin’.”
They followed behind him, obediently, as he picked up a large leather bag and led them off towards the Quidditch Pitch. It seemed he’d been right, because it was only a few minutes before James cracked.
“What’s in the bag, Mr Hagrid?” he asked, jogging a little to keep up. Hagrid glanced down at him, and James thought he saw a hint of a smirk under the beard.
“Tools.” He said, vaguely. “Hurry up, there’s loads to do.”
He picked up the pace and the two boys were pink in the face and huffing by the time they reached the huge stadium. Hagrid dropped the bag down with a clank and turned to them, his smile obvious, this time.
“Sure ye were at the last game, but the back stands’re a state. Sutton went too hard with the bludger. Anyway, we’ll see what yer made of. Professor McGonagall telt me youse need keepin’ out of trouble so I thought this’d keep ye busy.”
They shared a bemused glance and watched as he dipped his huge dustbin-lid hands into the bag, pulling out two bags of huge nails, the length of their fingers. Hagrid handed a bag to Sirius, before taking a huge hammer for himself. James thought, a little nervously, that one light tap could crack his skull like an egg.
Hagrid led them over to the back stand, where Hufflepuff would usually sit. He lifted the canvas so that the boys could climb under it and into the wooden structure hidden underneath. It was like a dark lattice of wooden scaffolding. James lit his wand and held it between his teeth. With a better view, the boys were able to climb across the beams that were intact. Hagrid busied himself with removing the nails that secured the yellow canvas so that he exposed them and the broken wood. He sat on the edge of the pitch - perhaps because the wooden beams would not take his weight - and set about pulling nails from the splintered wood.
“Lucky it were just the supports, and not the main pillar that was wrecked,” he commended, fiddling with the claw of the hammer in a particularly narrow gap. James extinguished his wand tip now that they were exposed and watched with interest. Once the nails were removed, bent and useless on the grass beside his massive thighs, he removed the splintered support and discarded it behind him.
“Pass me a nail, would ye?” he asked, holding his hand out to Sirius, who placed a single huge nail in his palm. “Ta.”
He reached into the bag and pulled out a replacement block of timber, lining it up against the thicker, vertical beam. “Hold that there,” he commanded, showing James where he held the nail so he could strike it through the two planks. James looked at Hagrid, nervously. He must have read his expression correctly, and he placed a huge hand on James’ shoulder.
“Don’ move, and I won’ get ye,” he assured, smiling. James swallowed and held the nail steady, while Hagrid steadied the wood with one hand and the hammer with the other. Sirius crept closer, like a monkey on the scaffolding, to get a decent look.
As promised, James’ fingers escaped the morning unscathed, other than a few splinters which he could hardly blame Hagrid for. He’d even let Sirius and James have a go of his massive hammer, though the weight of it meant they could barely lift it, never mind use it. Not an hour after they’d started, the three of them climbed out from the stands and the boys watched as Hagrid replaced the canvas with more new nails, supplied by Sirius. He asked James to gather the spent ones from the grass and they walked back towards his hut.
“Why not just fix it with magic?” James asked, feeling a little braver now that they’d gotten to know each other a little. Hagrid considered him for a moment before answering.
“Well, I s’pose I could’ve just asked Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore to give it a go, but it’s me job to keep the grounds, and I’m ‘ardly capable of that kind of spellwork, so I’d rather do it mesel’.”
James still didn’t quite understand. “But even if you were going to fix it yourself, why not just repair the wood, and use the same beam again? Surely it’s less wasteful?”
They arrived at the hut, and a mad scrabbling at the inside of the door could be heard. James stepped back nervously, and was glad as an enormous dog bounded out the moment the door was opened. The dog jumped at Hagrid, sniffed at James, it’s tail wagging madly, before settling against Sirius’ hip, huffing loudly.
“Thas my Fang, he won’ bother ye,” Hagrid assured Sirius, who looked a little wary. The dog’s shoulders were nearly up to his elbows.
They were led inside and Hagrid nodded at James, before he tossed the broken beam into his fireplace.
“Thas why,” he said, simply. “Now show me those nails ye picked up.”
James dug into his pockets and dropped a fistful of wonky nails onto Hagrid’s wooden table. He sat, and gestured for the two boys to do the same.
“I won’ waste these. Want to test yer skills? I’ve plenty more, so don’ worry if ye mess ‘em up!”
James and Sirius obliged happily, pulling out their wands and attempting reparo on the nails until they were straight enough to be somewhat useful again. Hagrid nodded, seemingly satisfied, and returned them to the bag with the new ones.
“To answer yer question, Potter, I like doin’ it that way. Ain’ no point bein’ a wizard if ye can’t do it without yer wand.”
James was baffled.
“But you wouldn’t have to know how to do it, if you can do it with your wand,” he countered, confused.
“Yer no’ really listenin’. Look, Potter, ‘ow many spells do ye know where ye have to imagine the real thing to be able to do it? Like, look a’ those nails - ye wouldn’ be able t’ make em right if ye hadn’ seen the proper thing. An’ if ye use the proper thing, or ye’ve held or, or ye love it, it’s easier t’ transfigure it, or conjure it, or repair it. C’mon, youse are bright boys, ye must know tha’.”
They spent the remainder of the morning with Hagrid, who had them repair the posts to a small paddock not far from his hut, dig trenches for him to plant potatoes, onions and turnips, and finally they went with him to the tree-line of the forest to catch some sharp-clawed little pixies in a large net - which Hagrid then caged to be relocated. He punctuated each task with strong mugs of tea to keep up the morale. By the time the sun was overhead, both boys were a little sweaty and dishevelled, in good need of a wash.
Hagrid patted them both on the back, nearly sending them face-first into the mud. “Thanks for the help, lads. Behave yerselves - but ye can come down any time, even when yer not in trouble!” He waved them off as they staggered up the sloped grounds, thinking only of a full plate of food and a warm shower.
They sat, shoulder to shoulder, unusually quiet as they ate, diverting only to return Alice’s book back to her in the common room. Since there were so few students, they were able to commandeer the rug in front of the fire to start planning their essay for Professor McGonagall.
“I’m sure I remember saying that I wasn’t planning on doing any homework for my birthday week,” James griped, fiddling with his quill. He was much more interested in what Hagrid had said, than writing an essay-long letter of regret for McGonagall.
“Reckon Hagrid’s right about doing things the hard way?” James asked Sirius thoughtfully. “You did more magic than me before Hogwarts - did you hear anything about that?”
Sirius sat up, abandoning his parchment and seemed to give it some thought.
“Well, they’d never describe it anything like “doing things the muggle way” like Hagrid was getting at, but I suppose there might have been something to it. We did quite a lot of basic alchemy theory and our tutor said it would be useful for the basis of transfiguration, to understand different materials and what they represent metaphorically as well as how they are literally.” He drummed his fingers on his knees pensively.
“Say, my mother did insist that we learned to play the piano,” he said, realisation dawning on his face. “She said that it was important to learn to make something beautiful from something difficult and frustrating. She had a funny way of getting us into it. She used to just shut one of us in the drawing room with the piano for a few hours with nothing better to do and eventually we’d just go at it. It kind of worked, I ended up enjoying playing, not that I’m terribly good.”
James was baffled by this notion. His family would never lock him alone in a room, was his first thought, and then that he would be too busy complaining about how unjust it was to amuse himself with playing the piano. In fact, he might be tempted to never touch the thing out of spite.
“We’ll come back to your parents locking you in rooms,” he assured Sirius, “but first - so did it help at all?”
“Well, sometimes when I try a spell that’s hard, I get that same feeling, like working through something frustrating. And you can start to see it make sense and take form, like the notes would, when you’re getting it right. And it has that same tingly, magical feeling. I’m not sure how to describe it - maybe you have to try it out.”
“I’d have some difficulty getting a piano in here,” James mused. Sirius rolled his eyes.
“Did you consider magic?” he pointed out dryly.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Suppose you could teach me how to play the piano over summer?” James suggested, smiling up at Sirius. The other boy’s face darkened.
“Yeah, you won’t be visiting my house, if that’s what you’re suggesting.” The words were very final, and James felt a little stung.
“Oh, sorry.” Hearing a rejection in itself wasn’t necessarily rare - despite what Snape might think, he had heard the word ‘no’ before - it was just that he’d rarely had someone he’d been close enough to feel the sting suggest that he wasn’t wanted.
His feelings must have been plain on his face, because Sirius immediately began to back-track.
“No, I didn’t mean that I didn’t want to have you there because I don’t like you, or something!” His grey eyes were uncharacteristically pleading. “You’re my friend, I like doing stuff with you - it wasn’t really about you, more just that, you can’t come to my house. When I said my parents would hate you, back last year, I wasn’t joking. I don’t think they’d even let you in.”
James pulled himself up from the rug so that he was sitting eye-level with Sirius.
“They’re really bad, aren’t they?” he asked. He felt a strange uneasiness, like he was disturbing something that he’d never be able to return to the box. It was a scary thing to do, but Sirius sat before him, unusually frantic, with wide eyes, worried he’d hurt his friend, and James couldn’t look away.
“They’re not that bad,” Sirius whispered, not meeting James’ eyes.
“They sound awful. And you never talk about them. Not ‘til now. I can’t imagine feeling like I’d rather be on my own at Hogwarts over the holidays than go home and see my family…” He wanted to say ‘that’s sad’ but he didn’t think Sirius would appreciate it. He thought of his mum and dad, and the friendly, sunny house in Stow-On-The-Wold. He wished he could take Sirius there.
“I meant what I said yesterday. You really can borrow them.” James tried to push as much conviction as he could into the statement, he could sense Sirius shying further and further away from the probing light of the conversation. He needn't have worried - it seemed he’d read the message loud and clear.
“I believed you.”
James unscrewed his ink bottle and turned his attention back to the blank parchment before him.
“Right, I’ll take a leaf out of your book, then.”
“What are you talking about?” Sirius leaned over to read what James was writing. He made sure to use his neatest chicken scratch, if Sirius was going to see it.
“My birthday, remember? I haven’t asked for anything yet. I mean, what could I really want? I have a broom, and a wand. We have school owls. I was going to ask for sweets, but maybe you’re on to something. And they always wanted me to learn the violin.”
“Wow, remind me to mail-order some ear plugs, then.”
They did manage to bring themselves to start the essays, after much faffing about and a short trip to the Owlery to send James’ letter off. Sirius took the time to go down to the library and look up the ‘stupify’ spell that Snape has tried on him, just out of interest, and complained to James how he would have been better off if Snape had just gotten it right.
James was eager to pull Sirius to their dormitory so that they could celebrate his birthday in style. He had originally been eager to take a midnight trip to the kitchens, but since they’d been caught one too many times, they’d instead stopped by after dinner before curfew and picked up quite the selection.
James would have been lying if he’d said he didn’t miss his parents. It was the first birthday he’d spent without them, after all. He missed being woken up early in the morning to his dad singing happy birthday, and his mum letting him eat cake for breakfast. He missed the hugs, and the Spring walks into town, and the promise that he could stay up late. They’d indulge any nonsense from him for that one day. Building forts with him, playing out in the woods, taking him into a nearby muggle city to watch the sights and try out the buses.
But then there was Sirius, who he presumed had never enjoyed any of those things. In light of that, he was sure that he’d made the right decision.
~ * ~
Deer Mum and Dad
Can I please have a birthday party with some magic frends tomorrow? I like the muggle boys in the street, and I like playing with you, but can you find me some magic boys to play with? Maybe one day I will have a brother.
If thats too hard, maybe a cleansweep?
Also one of those muggle balloons shaped like a 7 with the heeleum in? Thanks
Love from James
Notes:
Thanks again to Alex0 for looking over the chapter and workshopping James' letter with me <3
Chapter 27: 7th June 1972
Summary:
Severus gets in with the Slytherin first year boys.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lennox Mulciber stretched dramatically as though he’d had a long life of hard labour. “Nice!” He sighed. “I love Thursdays. Nothing, nothing, herbology, herbology, nothing. And no Gryffindors. At least Ravenclaws seem to know when to wind their necks in.”
Severus was trailing behind the rest of the Slytherin first years as they made their way from the greenhouses to the castle, half listening to their conversation. Thursdays were dull. They had no lessons all morning, and unless he ran into her in the corridors after class, he wouldn’t see Lily. He usually spent the day hidden away in the Slytherin common room reading, doing homework or eavesdropping.
The conversations always led back to the same road, whether they started on Quidditch or toad eyes. Blood status. Usually it was Rabastan that would steer the talk there, but most others were happy to jump on board along the way. Severus presumed that he, Lennox, Evan and William had all experienced similar upbringings - after all, they were all purebloods. Severus wasn’t the only half blood in the first year group (and he imagined there might even be a muggle born somewhere, but they had the sense not to speak up) and though the talk often upset some of the other students and resulted in small spats, he generally allowed it to wash over him.
It was of no concern to him. They weren’t interested in him, and he wasn’t interested in them. He wasn’t part of their world and he was used to that. Just like the boys from The City that he’d passed when they’d gone in to get his mother’s funeral dress. Their life was so removed from his, like those boys, they wouldn’t even see him.
Until Easter.
Somehow, Rabastan had heard that Severus had attempted to pull off a stupify and it seemed like his eyes had been opened to the quiet, isolated boy who shared their dorm. A few days after lessons resumed, Rabastan had cornered him in the morning before he managed to slip away for breakfast by putting his arm out and blocking the dormitory door. Unwilling to risk the argument that pushing past him might incur, Severus had allowed himself to be questioned.
Where did you find the spell? Did you get him? Did you win the duel? Was it hard to pull off? Reckon you could teach me? Severus had looked bemusedly at him and simply told him where to find the library book. He wasn’t able to resist confirming that he had, in fact, won the duel and that Potter had had to half-carry Black away.
Rabastan had clapped him on the shoulder delightedly and had been strangely chummy with him ever since.
And now, whenever the talk turned to taking down another house in a Quidditch match, “sorting out” a student who had wronged them or showing Gryffindor what they were “up against”, Severus would be dragged into the conversation as though he were some kind of duelling champion. On the one hand, perhaps the perception would have been different if they knew he hadn’t performed the spell to completion. On the other hand, it was oddly nice to be recognised as a force to be reckoned with. All too often, Potter and Black seemed to bounce back, undeterred, and Lily was a fool if she thought he was going to tattle on them. It wasn’t as though an adult was about to start defending him now .
Severus had to admit, it was incredibly useful to have the other three boys invested in his life to an extent. Though he found it annoying that he was occasionally expected to talk to them in the common room, or sit with them at meals and forgo Lily’s company, they were formidable allies against Black and Potter. No longer was it two on one. Lennox was more than willing to test out spells he had read about in gruesome books, and Evan had a sharp tongue on him to match Black. It was a shame that Lily disapproved of them, but she would have to let this one go. If she wasn’t willing to give up going around with Lupin and Pettigrew, she would just have to accept that occasionally she’d have to interact with Evan, Rabastan, William and Lennox.
Unfortunately, when they were forced into each others’ proximity, the conversation was often steered back to Rabastan’s favourite topic. After walking back through the grounds and having the misfortune to pass the Gryffindors on their way back from flying, Lily was on Rabastan’s mind. As soon as the common room wall sealed itself behind them, he started.
“Snape, your mudblood, is she going around with McKinnon?”
Severus didn’t even bother to look up. He threw his bag down onto a nearby table and started pulling out parchment and ink. He heard Lennox and William jogging up the dormitory stairs to drop off their gloves and cloaks and wished he’d done the same so he could escape this interrogation.
“Suppose. They share a dorm.”
Rabastan pulled out a chair to sit opposite him, leaning casually on the table.
“She should know better. McKinnon, I mean. Reckon we should speak to her, Evan?”
Evan was already comfortable in an armchair a few feet away, looking unlikely to start pulling out Herbology homework any time soon. “What’re ye on about now?” he asked, rolling his eyes at Rabastan.
“I’m saying, we should speak to McKinnon. It’s a decent family, they’re powerful. She must have no idea what’s on, if her parents are letting her go around talking to mudbloods.”
Evan fixed Severus with a pointed stare. “‘Stan, I don’t care about McKinnon and whatever mudblood she’s talking to. What’re ye even hoping to achieve? That she’ll join the Dark Lord?”
Severus jerked in his seat, his attention fully on Evan, now. The Dark Lord. It kept coming up, whispers here and there. He seemed certain that Malfoy, the prefect, had ‘joined’ - whatever that really meant - and he knew from Rabastan’s constant bragging that his family were in on the action.
“Shut up, obviously not. I’m just saying, she’s in a nice position, why ruin it just to make friends with a mudblood?”
Lennox, who had returned just in time to make sure that Severus’ whole afternoon would be locked into this conversation, pointed out; “Well, Snape is,” as though he were merely providing a fair piece of evidence and not condemning him to an hour of discussion on the topic.
Evan sat up in his armchair, suddenly much more interested.
“Yeah, Snape, you know you’re going to have to choose sides, don’t you?” He asked, a careful smirk on his pale lips. “Sooner or later, the mudblood has to go.”
Severus met his gaze, carefully. He wanted to know. He wanted to be in on the conversation, for once, but he was always hesitant.
Hesitant to be told that it was shameful to not just know, and be ostracised. Hesitant to find out that it was something truly terrible, that he couldn’t bring himself to agree with.
He could hardly ask Lucius. It would have to be them.
“What sides?” his voice was quiet, but even, an unexpected excitement was building in him. “What is all this about the Dark Lord? Who is he?”
Lennox opened his mouth to answer, but Rabastan beat him to it. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them at the small table, hushed and excited.
“He’s incredible. This wizard who just came up out of nowhere and is doing what the Ministry is too chicken to do. My older brother’s going to join him, once he’s done his OWLs. It’s like an uprising. Or, it’s going to be, if he gets enough followers. He’s got the right idea - wizards are more powerful than muggles, we shouldn’t have to answer to them. We shouldn’t have to be held back, or go about in secret. We should have the right to rule.” Evan’s eyebrows were raised, but he did not object.
Rabastan continued. “And my parents have been saying for years that something needs to be done about the mudbloods. They’re just a different breed altogether. And if we’re to have any hope of getting rid of the Statute of Secrecy, they can’t be part of it. They’re like muggles. They’re just different. Rodolphus says there’s more to being a wizard than doing magic, and he’s right. You can’t just go and buy a wand and turn up at Hogwarts and pretend you’re part of our world. It’s not right.”
Rabastan’s face was flushed with excitement, bright eyes locked with Severus’. He glanced at Evan, the question obvious.
“Half bloods are an interesting one. After all, it’s not your fault your dad is a muggle.” Evan said, evenly. Severus clenched his teeth.
“I hate him, anyway.”
“Well, good.”
“I’ve not heard of a Snape before, so it makes sense your dad is a muggle.” Lennox was thoughtful. “Maybe the Dark Lord would consider it, I mean, it’s like Evan says. Plus, if you’re a good wizard, it just goes to show you’re more magic than muggle, doesn’t it? Not like Pettigrew-”
Evan snorted and covered his face, looking embarrassed. Lennox continued, with a wide smile.
“I mean, imagine having such a tragic bloodline that all your parents are magical and you give birth to three squibs! No wonder they kept popping them out!”
“I think my mother would have offed herself,” Rabastan said, quite seriously.
Severus was reeling. He’d heard that Pettigrew was a pure blood, but he had gotten the impression very early on that it meant little to the Slytherins.
“Is that true? He has three squib brothers? I thought squibs were really rare?”
Evan was still openly laughing, trying his best not to keep snorting. “Yeah, they are! That’s what’s mad about it! Honestly shocked that they even sent him t’ school - imagine if he’s useless? Jesus, I’d be so embarrassed. If I were him, I’d rather stay at home.”
Severus wondered how his life would have been different if he’d been a squib. Perhaps his father would have been a little less miserable? It was impossible to tell.
“So, what’s the Dark Lord got to say about squibs, then?” He asked, genuinely curious. After all, if he was all about pure bloodlines, what would he say to one of the sacred 28 if they produced a squib?
“I’m not certain,” Rabastan said, thoughtfully. “I’ll ask my brother when I see him next, maybe he’ll know for sure. But there’s an idea that squibs come from having muggle mixing way down in your bloodline - so I suppose he’d say if purity mattered to wizards like it should, then squibs would never happen. Like, it’s a sign of dirty blood. That’s why we have the Sacred Twenty-eight in the first place.”
Severus supposed that made a sort of sense. And it was pleasant to believe it. After all, if a pureblood family giving birth to three squibs meant that muggle influence earlier in their family ran strong, then perhaps him being magical despite his aggressively muggle father meant that he was extra-magic.
“This is what Lucius is into, isn’t it?” he asked, nodding his head over at Malfoy and Narcissa, tangled together as usual in a far corner of the common room. “I heard him, Nott and Narcissa talking about it over Christmas. Black tried to make out like he was talking rubbish, but it was only because she knew I was listening.”
Lennox rolled his eyes. “Black can wind her neck in. She’d be joining Malfoy if she knew what was good for her. Bet she’s too scared though. She’ll kiss up to Malfoy and she’ll say she’s with him if it all goes well for the Dark Lord. Coward.”
Lennox’s wide smile was gone and his blue eyes were cold and hard. Severus had seen the look on his face before, but never about a fellow Slytherin. He caught Evan give Lennox a strange side-ways glance and he couldn’t quite figure out what his strange expression meant. Rabastan saved them.
“Anyway, you’re no coward, are you, Snape? What do you say? Stand up to those filthy muggles?”
It was an easy answer, if he thought of that large, miserable man. That large miserable man and the small, cowering woman his mother had become. But what about the others? What about the Evans family?
Well, what about them? Lily was a perfectly capable witch, and she was brilliant. Something magical must have shone through and blessed her. Whatever it was hadn’t so much as grazed Petunia, as far as he was concerned. She was just as dull and unimaginative as the rest of them. And the parents could go, too. How was it fair that they would live up the hill, where the sun hit them first, and have that bright house with the blue door and the smiling mother waiting to come home. It really wasn’t fair.
“Sounds good.” he said, resolutely.
~ * ~
And it was different again. Severus had been otherwise unphased by his pledge, willing to carry on just as he had before, but the other boys saw things differently. He would have thought that it was because they could finally be themselves around him, but that wasn’t quite right. After all, they hadn’t bothered to be secretive about it before. Certainly not within the walls of the Slytherin common room.
But there was something different. A kind of camaraderie? They would wait for him, before leaving breakfast for classes, or occasionally move to pair up with him in potions, leaving Lily to team up with one of the Gryffindors. There was something nice about it. In the same way that he was filled with pride when they would turn to him for talk of hexes, or back him up in a deserted corridor with Potter and Black, he had a sick sort of giddiness when Evan would laugh at an underhand comment he made, or William would lock eyes with him when Lennox was being too much.
It felt almost like those secret days with Lily, back in Cokeworth. Just him, his friends, and a secret world to share.
Him and his friends.
What a bizarre thought.
~ * ~
“Surita was talking to me,” Lily whispered to him over the clattering of equipment and muttering of the potions classroom.
“Who?” He was much more focussed on carefully dividing their ingredients based on order that they would add them to their forgetfulness potion. He was happy to have been paired with Lily, since they were practising the potion which would be on their end of year exam and she was a much more reliable partner than Lennox.
“Oh for goodness’ sake!” she hissed, elbowing him. “She’s in our year. She’s in your house .”
Severus thought for a moment, running through the students that joined them in class. He didn’t bother to speak to many of the other Slytherins. He had no reason to. He didn’t need help with school work, and he could entertain himself. If Malfoy, Nott or his dorm mates wanted to talk with him, that was their business. He knew there were three Slytherin girls but even after a year, he couldn’t honestly say for certain which was which.
“She’s over on the desk in the front left. Next to Alice."
Severus cast a quick look over and saw the back of the heads of two Slytherin girls. One had long, thick dark hair and the other shoulder length auburn coils.
“Surita is the one with the dark hair?” he asked. No doubt Lily rolled her eyes - he didn’t bother to look.
“ Yes . Anyway, she was saying your lot, the boys in your dorm, were going on about muggleborns.”
Severus busied himself in measuring out two “drops” of Leith River water into a pipette. He should have known Lily would find out about this somehow, and would have something to say about it.
“What of it, they can go on about muggleborns if they want,” Severus offered, evasively. Lily wasn’t having it.
“Not they , you, Sev. You as well. She was saying to me and Marlene that you lot are all going on about muggleborns and calling them mudbloods .” She whispered the word even lower, as though it would sting if delivered at full force.
“You shouldn’t say that word,” he muttered, still staring down at the table in front of him.
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t say,” she said, her voice bitling. Severus huffed.
“Well then don’t tell me and my friends what we can say.”
There was a moment of silence between them and it pulled Severus’ gaze up to meet her green eyes.
“Friends?” Lily asked, all venom gone. She looked genuinely confused. Severus understood why, of course. He had never really bothered with anyone besides her and though the other boys had seemingly grown closer to him in the past few weeks, he had never treated them with the same familiarity as he did her. He understood. But a bitter part of him wanted to pretend he didn’t. A bitter part of him wanted to throw it back at her. It rose up inside of him, some kind of spiteful dragon.
“Yes, friends. Or are you the only one who’s allowed to have other friends?”
He stared at her hard and watched her pale, freckled face intently. Watching for the injury. But her usual fiery temper seemed to be on a short chain. She met his stare resolutely and then turned back to their ingredients, a sticky silence between them.
They worked through the rest of the potion without a word and took their “outstanding” from Professor Slughorn without comment. The class began to file out and Severus joined his housemates in their line back to the Slytherin dorms to drop off their bags before lunch. He could feel her eyes on him, but he resisted the urge to look back and quickened his step to as to be swallowed up by the group of his fellow Slytherins.
Notes:
Thanks again to Alex0 for beta-reading this chapter!
Also, crazy! This is the second last chapter of this fic, before we move on to year 2! I'm so excited!!!
Chapter 28: 19th June 1972
Summary:
Last chapter! Remus joins the boys on one of their night-time wanderings and becomes a certified Good Egg
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The school year was drawing to a close and it was palpable in the air. A strange mixture of excitement and stress. The older students commandeered the common room and library in large groups, reading, writing, practising spells and panicking. Those who weren’t taking career-changing exams were much more laid back. End of year exams (the older students had assured them) were easy enough and they would only have to worry about passing if they had not attended a single lesson all year.
Needless to say, even Peter, who often fretted about having less skill than his classmates in transfiguration, was confident that he would advance into second year.
Without the burden of constant revision, the first years turned their attention to making the most of the castle while their prefects and head boy and girl were otherwise engaged. Forced out of the common room lest they disturb anyone, they had taken to the bright, crisp grounds to fool around.
It was there, in the grounds, sitting by the lake under the shade of a sturdy beech tree that Peter, Sirius, Remus and James conspired about what Peter was naming ‘their last adventure of first year.’
“I’ve been saying to Sirius since Easter, we need to search the fourth floor - I’ve heard rumours there’s a secret passageway there.” James had been hung up on the fourth floor for months - they had heard it all before.
Sirius and Peter were in agreement that while the weather was good, they should explore the grounds. “After all,” Sirius reasoned, “we’ll have loads of time next year when the weather’s awful to do the school corridors.”
James flopped onto the grass dramatically, clearly frustrated. “Yeah, I hear you, but there’s like, no prefects out at the moment! It’s the perfect opportunity!”
Sirius turned to Remus, his expression diplomatic. “Well, it’s your first go of it, Remus - what do you say? Grounds and forest in the nice weather, or wandering inside the castle looking for a secret passageway that might not even exist?”
Remus saw James roll his eyes, but it seemed he was genuinely being granted the final vote. If he was honest, he was a little horrified at the idea of joining them on their night-time wandering. He’d almost made it through the school year without incident and he would be furious with himself if he ruined it all at the last minute because he let himself get swept up in the excitement of having friends.
James had a point - the corridors were empty of prefects at the moment. Even some of the teachers were slacking on their rounds - he assumed due to huge amounts of end-of-year marking. Professor Slughorn in particular, was only giving the dungeons and the first floor a cursory once over before retreating back to his office. It was never going to be easier for them to sneak out of the castle after curfew.
If he was going to break the rules… now was the time.
“I vote forest,” he said, nodding to the trees behind them. “We’re less likely to get caught once we’re out here. And, we might see a unicorn.”
The reminder of the possibility of seeing a unicorn reignited their excitement and so, it was agreed.
Due to the difficulty of covering all four of them effectively under the cloak, Peter had the bright idea for himself and Remus (the least troublesome) to go out just before curfew and hide so that James and Sirius could join them as they escaped into the grounds.
Peter had rationalised that once they were out of the castle it didn’t matter so much if their feet were visible here and there, the shadows would hide them if they hugged the castle wall.
At nine that night, Remus and Peter got ready to leave the dormitory. Remus had suggested that they go and wait it out in the back of the library, before slipping off to hide somewhere on the ‘way back.’ Peter stood, hands in the pockets of his trousers as he watched Remus flitter about the dormitory looking for things they might need.
“Reckon we’ll need our coats?” he asked, pulling his heavy school winter cloak out of the wardrobe. Peter shrugged.
“Dunno. Just wear a jumper. It’s up to you.”
Remus, frustrated with the lack of a definitive answer, huffed and put down the cloak, before pulling out a thick jacket and donning it.
“And what about my bag? I mean, if we’re going to the library, it’ll look suspicious if I don’t have my bag, won’t it?” Remus could feel himself descending down the steep slope of a nervous ramble. It wasn’t often that Peter was the one reassuring him.
“It’s fine mate, we’re allowed to just, you know, read stuff. C’mon.”
Remus nodded, more to himself than to Peter, and made to follow him out the door before his hand shot out to grab Peter’s shoulder.
“I have a torch we could bring! For the forest!”
Peter had a kind sort of expression on his face. It was similar to how his mother looked when she spoke to his dementia riddled grandmother.
“Remus, we’re sneaking out of bounds at our magic school. You can use your wand.”
Remus felt his face heat up. The more recent scars across his nose felt itchy.
“Right. You’re right. Sorry, let's go.”
They hurried down the steps and into the common room, nodding at Sirius and James who were playing a game of wizard chess and avoiding eye contact with Mohammad and Denise. It wasn’t hard. The two prefects sat shoulder to shoulder. It seemed that Denise was coaching Mohammad through an essay topic that she had aced last year during her own O.W.L.s.
The portrait hole swung open and the two boys tried not to jog down to the library in their excitement. Their footsteps echoed eerily around the stone corridors. Here and there, they passed a solitary student, but just as predicted, not a single prefect.
The library was busy. All of the tables were occupied by groups of diligent students and the rustling of paper and clothes gave the huge, maze-like room a comforting feeling. Remus led Peter down into the magical beasts section where he pulled down a copy of Unicorn Watch! A Guide to Unicorn Sighting in Modern Britain and the two of them huddled together, sat on the carpeted floor in the isle and let the next forty minutes tick by.
Peter needn't have checked his watch. The approach of curfew was heralded by a steady rise in the noise of the library as chairs scraped back and books were stacked to be checked out. The low murmur of voices grew a little louder, despite Madame Pince’s increasingly frustrated shushing.
They waited a few more minutes, until most of the crowd had gone, before they returned their book and tried to look casual as they joined the last few stragglers leaving the library.
At the exit to the fourth floor, instead of going up, they made their way down towards the entrance hall, before veering off to the transfiguration department. This was the tricky bit. Remus could feel his mouth going dry at the thought of being caught out by McGonagall. Even though it was technically before curfew, they had no reason to be there this late.
He needn't have worried. They made it around the courtyard corridor (stepping carefully so as not to disturb McGonagall with their echoing footsteps) and reached the far door. It was a strange sort of corridor which was undecorated and served simply to connect the transfiguration department to a mostly unused series of additional classrooms (and a small staircase which Peter informed Remus let up into the back of the Charms department.
It was in one of those unused classrooms that they sat and waited for the arrival of their friends, Peter nervously checking his watch and Remus nibbling at his remaining fingernails.
“Suppose they get caught on the way down,” Remus leaned over to whisper to Peter. “We’d never know. We could wait here for hours.”
Peter waved his concerns away. “They won’t. They’re invisible, remember?”
Remus had yet to see this invisibility cloak in action. Of course, since they had started planning their final escapade of the year and James had realised that Remus and Peter had never had the pleasure, he’d taken it out to show off. The two of them had marvelled at the artefact, staring at each other in disbelief that James would be lucky enough to own something like that. He’d also felt a strange wave of something like awe that he was special enough to someone to be brought in on such a brilliant secret.
It was almost too good to be true.
It was a vulnerable moment between two diverging possibilities, sitting there in the dusty, unused classroom, Peter beside him. It felt as though he were becoming aware that he was in a dream and that at any moment he would wake up and discover that of course he wasn’t going to see Sirius and James appear before them, inviting them into the magical cloak and taking him into the forest at his request, hunting for unicorns. Of course not. What wistful thinking. Instead, he’d wake up and realise that it had all been a prank, and they’d perhaps tipped off McGonagall, and they would both be dragged back up to the common room while everyone laughed. Perhaps she would send a letter home and his parents would be so disappointed in his behaviour that they would pull him out of school.
Or perhaps, worse still, he would wake up in his dorm, and still be quietly going about his school life, only interacting enough with his housemates to appease them and keep them happy, but essentially friendless. Succeeding, sadly, in the warnings of his parents to not get too close to anyone, and to not get in any trouble.
The spiral suddenly seemed to gain momentum and he considered the sickening horror that the whole thing was a dream, and that he’d never arrived-
“Sorry we took so long!” James’ hushed voice pierced his train of thought and it came screeching to a halt. “Marlene kept trying to tell me how to win and we had to play out the whole game- why are you so pale? Are you alright?”
James and Sirius had closed the classroom door behind them and stepped close enough to see Remus and Peter properly in the dim light. James emerged from under the cloak, wide, brown eyes staring earnestly at him from behind his glasses. Remus inexplicably thought of Bambi.
“Er, yeah. I’m fine. No worries - about being late, I mean.”
Peter jumped down from the desk he had been sitting on. A small cloud of dust was disturbed as his feet hit the ground.
Sirius revealed his head to Remus and Peter, before holding the edge of the cloak up over his head, as though he were trying to make a tent out of it.
“Come in, then.” He whispered. The boys huddled together, trying to avoid getting each other’s hair in their mouths as they jostled around, finding a formation that allowed them to walk somewhat unobstructed.
They passed back through the Transfiguration department (Remus was feeling much bolder this time, now that he was invisible) and crept around the shadows at the Entrance Hall walls until they reached the main door. They were huge, large enough to allow a grand horse drawn carriage to enter with plenty of room to spare. Luckily, whoever had designed them had some common sense, because a smaller, more human sized door was embedded within the rightmost main door.
It wasn’t yet locked, curfew had only just fallen and it would be at least a few hours before Hagrid began sealing up the castle. They slipped out - almost certainly revealing their feet as they did so - and stepped into the crisp night.
Without the early Summer sun to warm the grounds, the biting breeze took over. They huddled, if possible, closer together. Remus was relieved to at least have his jacket. Sirius and James were both shivering in just a pullover. They hurried down the sloping grass, veering off to the left, towards the lake and the forest. Once they were a good distance from the castle windows and fairly sure they were invisible unless someone was out looking for them, Remus, Sirius and Peter stepped out from the cloak. James, shivering, wrapped it around his shoulders more for warmth than for secrecy.
They stood on the tree line, three boys and a floating head. Sirius turned to Remus and flashed him an encouraging grin.
“So, you haven’t chickened out, have you?” he goaded. Remus smirked back. He was far more dangerous than anything in the forest. Not now, perhaps, but certainly in a couple of weeks.
“No way. Let’s go.”
They crossed what Remus imagined as an invisible barrier. He wondered if, somewhere in Professor Dumbledore’s office, a klaxon was sounding to alert him of disobeying students.
Well, if that were the case, it was too late now.
The ground in the forest was mossy. The trees were packed too tightly together to allow for much grass. The thick foliage (and perhaps some latent magic) swallowed the sounds of the grounds. It was as though they had walked through a veil. The wind across the grass, the creaking of the willow, the call of birds - all silenced. Remus’ head was full of the sounds of his friends’ feet over the twig-strewn ground and his own heartbeat in his ears.
“So,” James broke the silence after a short while of fairly aimless wandering. “I know you said you wanted to see a unicorn, but did you hear of anything else in the forest?”
Sirius snorted. “What’s the matter, getting frightened?”
“No, I’m just curious,” James retorted, a little indignant. “I’m lion-hearted, remember?”
Remus stopped walking, partly to try and hear for the movement of any creature that wasn’t them, and partly to answer.
“Well, Hagrid mentioned that some of the trees were wand-worthy - so there should be bowtruckles. And my dad said there’s been centaurs in the forest for years.”
“Meeting a centaur would be cool,” Peter said, hopefully. “My brothers wouldn’t believe me.”
“Yeah, if you live to tell them - centaurs hate humans.” Sirius said. “And apparently there’s werewolves in here, too.”
Remus bristled and began walking at a swift pace to try and dissipate some of his negative energy. “Not true. Firstly, centaurs don’t hate humans, they’re smarter than that. Humans just keep trying to classify them as though it’s any of our business. My dad says it’s a complicated thing and that if wizards had given centaurs the respect they deserved, then they wouldn’t be so stand-offish. Also, there’s definitely no werewolves in the forest - that would be ridiculous.” Well, there is right now, but you don’t need to know that , he thought, grimly.
Remus wasn’t one for unsolicited monologues, or for disagreeing unnecessarily, but this was one issue that he couldn’t let slide. He didn’t even bother to worry if it might’ve offended Sirius. After all, he was from a magical family. He should know better.
“Why’s it ridiculous?” Peter asked, and sounded genuinely curious. Remus felt the answer fall from his lips before he had time to screen it for risk of revealing himself.
“Well, what do you suppose they’re doing when it’s not the full moon? Just sitting in the woods? Besides, werewolves have to be registered with the ministry, they don’t need to be hiding in school forests.” The ‘ except for me’ was unsaid.
They trudged deeper and deeper through the trees. The air only grew colder, and the silence deeper. James was openly complaining about the cold now, and they hadn’t seen a single magical creature.
Until Peter flung his arm out to stop them.
“I heard something.”
They stood in the tangle of roots that made up the forest floor, waiting and listening.
Remus heard it next. It sounded like quick, light footsteps. Scutting.
It was tricky to see in the darkness. Their eyes had adjusted, but the gloom was intense. Only a few feet ahead of them was properly visible, even with the light cast from Sirius’ wand.
Something moved in the black. Remus squinted and leaned forward as silently as he could.
“There’s definitely something there,” he whispered. At the noise, another short flurry of skittering broke out. Sirius staggered backwards and climbed onto a higher root, taking himself off the forest floor.
“It had better not be a massive bug.” Remus thought he might have heard a slight quiver in Sirius’ voice. Into the light, as though summoned, scuttled a spider the size of a Yorkshire Terrier.
Sirius shrieked. It was so abrupt in the din that Remus clapped his hands over his ears in fright and it seemed he had only disturbed more spiders, as four or five of them scuttled into their circle of wandlight.
And speaking of the circle of wandlight, it seemed to shudder. Remus looked up to see Sirius half up a nearby tree, his lit wand in his teeth. The spiders scurried over the mossy ground, and the quiet resumed. Sirius’ nervous breathing hissed as it escaped around his wand.
“What the Hell was that?” Peter’s voice was high. Remus only just realised that James had completely vanished. Sirius called out for him as he tentatively joined them on the ground and his head appeared a few feet away.
“Giant spiders?” James looked off into the darkness the flood had disappeared into.
“Not acromantula, though.” Remus thought back to the entry in what was by far his favourite school book. “They’re much bigger than that.”
“Maybe they're babies,” James posited, sounding a little horrified. Sirius groaned.
“Don’t even think about it, because then that means there’s more of them, and they’re bigger.”
Remus resumed on his unmarked path, unperturbed. “Well, if they are baby acromantula, there’s a rumour about a colony in Scotland - maybe we’ll find it.”
After a few moments of hesitation, he heard the others following him. Remus wasn’t accustomed to being the brave one, but something about being the only one who wasn’t nervous of the dark, or of strange magical beings, or getting lost… It was a nice change. He’d never been to the forbidden forest before, but he felt strangely at home.
He supposed he was one of the scariest creatures in it.
They trudged on. Remus couldn’t quite describe what was pushing him onwards - perhaps the first hint of Gryffindor spirit in him? Or a wish to prove himself to the others? Or simply some latent magic of the forest which was the reason they had been warned not to enter it in the first place?
Either way, he continued onwards, catching the occasional large spider out of the corner of his eye. He could hear Sirius’ mumbled curses as he flinched at the sound of their light feet on the ground.
The thrill of adventure was wearing off - it was palpable in the air. James was complaining of the cold, Peter worrying that they would never be able to find their way out, and Sirius moaning that his arm was aching from holding up his wand. Remus offered nothing. He heard them behind him, but it was inconsequential to him.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but he felt separate from them. That was hardly new. His whole life, as far as he remembered, had been like that. Everyone else existing in a bubble which he could look into, but never join. He’d soon regret this delusion, when they saw what a monster he was, and sickened them.
Perhaps that was the pull of the forest. Perhaps it knew he was better off with the dark and mysterious creatures that lived in there, separate, hidden and forbidden.
It could have been his eyes, but the darkness seemed to penetrate deeper. The glow from Sirius’ wand seemed weaker - unable to pierce through the black as it had before. Sirius had noticed too. For a moment, they were plunged into darkness and then he re-lit it. Remus was reminded of how his mother sometimes turned the radio on and off again when the signal was problematic.
Remus kept walking.
He kept walking, despite only being able to see a foot ahead of himself, and despite being cold to the bone. Despite James tapping him on the shoulder and suggesting that it was getting too late, and that they could come back another night. Despite Peter whispering to Sirius that maybe some creature had cursed him and was leading him into its lair, and they were following him to certain death.
Perhaps Peter was right? After all, why did he keep walking onwards even though the hair on the back of his neck was standing up? The new scars on his face itched in the cold and the night pressed on him like a smothering hand.
Something touched his shoulder.
He flinched, and looked down.
James’ hand was resting there, pulling him out of his own thoughts for a moment.
“Are you alright? Can you hear us?”
He nodded, but didn’t speak. It might break the spell.
James - half visible wearing the cloak as a coat - was cast in shadow by the struggling wandlight behind him. His hand was heavy on Remus, like an anchor.
“Maybe we can come back some other time?”
It was hard to meet James’ eyes in the dark, but it seemed the silent message had made it through none-the-less. James’ mouth twitched and he gave a small shrug.
“Alright, then.”
There was no sound of scuttling feet to accompany them now. And no sound of rustling leaves in the light breeze. No hint of life other than the four of them. Even the complaining had stopped. Sirius’ lumos finally failed and they were plunged into blackness.
They pushed through, and finally stumbled into a clearing.
Remus breached the treeline first, tripping over a root and landing on all fours on the soft, mossy ground. As though the world had been switched on, the sound of the forest rushed back. The crinkling of leaves, the swish of the light wind through the branches, the noise of his own body echoing in his ears. The dim light of the waxing moon illuminated the clearing just enough for them to get their bearings. He could have sworn that it was a touch warmer.
Just as Peter was opening his mouth to remark on their discovery, a light appeared between the far trees.
It was a soft, silvery glow and seemed to be moving closer. Remus squinted and stood up, but dared not move closer, lest he break the spell. He could hear gentle thuds on the ground as it approached and then it became clear.
Through the trees, across the clearing, came a unicorn. Brilliant white, so white it seemed to act as a source of light. Its hooves thumped lightly on the ground as it picked its way towards the clearing. A sickening kind of excitement thrummed through him as he watched it draw nearer. A whimsical childhood fantasy made flesh. Many a night, asking his father to tell him about unicorns. He’d revelled in the idea of a magical beast that was so pure that, instead of ruining everything it touched, it had blood that was powerful enough to keep a dying man alive.
And it was walking towards him.
He knew, of course, that he wasn’t alone. He heard Sirius’ whispered “wow” in his ear, and felt Peter pressed against him, but he may as well have been without them.
Just as he had come here to find it, had it approached to see him? He certainly felt that it were true. He stepped out into the clearing. He was close enough to see its pale brown eyes and the glint of the moonlight on its silvery mane. He reached out one nervous hand.
Its nostrils flared and it stopped in its tracks, its great, white head shaking nervously. Remus pulled his hand back, regretting his boldness, but as quickly as it had startled it seemed to compose itself. Two more steps closed the space between them and it bowed its head so that Remus could reach. He pressed his fingertips lightly to the short fur, tentatively stroking in the direction of its hair.
A wild relief flooded him.
“Will I ever see a unicorn?”
Lyall crossed his legs, making himself comfortable on the edge of Remus’ bed as he prepared for a long while of answering questions to avoid bedtime.
“Maybe… At my old school, they taught us about them.” he answered evasively.
Remus was thoughtful for a moment.
“I hope I never meet one,” his voice was small, but resolute and he tucked his quilt around himself. Lyall quirked an eyebrow.
“I thought you loved unicorns?”
“I do, but I don’t want to scare one. And I would be really sad if I met one and it ran away from me because it knew I was bad.”
Lyall pressed his lips together in a pained grimace and looked very seriously at Remus.
“You’re not bad - I don’t need a unicorn to tell me that.”
The unicorn raised its head and looked behind Remus, towards the other boys still gathered on the edge of the clearing. Remus turned to follow its gaze and saw his friends standing there, looking delightedly bemused.
His friends.
Remus grinned at them, and they grinned back. Sirius crossed his arms, eyebrows raised in amusement.
“So, are you gonna invite us over there, or what?”
Notes:
Heyyyy! It's done! Thank you all so much for reading, commenting and coming back after long breaks - it's much appreciated <3
There are plans for the next installment and also an interlude with Regulus back at Grimmauld Place. I made this into a collection so that it's easy enough to find. I hope to see you there!
Please let me know any thoughts, critiques or even little things you'd like to see in the upcoming year - there's definitely room for some one-off type chapters (and a lot of the original inspo did come from fanart and tumblr posts...)
Thank you again to Alex0 for giving this a look over <3 and to DutchSlytherpuff. Listen, anyone who has been enjoying this fic but not commenting can thank DS, because they're like, 90% of the reason this even got finished.
Love you all!
~BS
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