Seasons' Greetings 2011 ♥ A Gift for herbeautifullie [1/2]
Title: Not Singular Except in Syllable
Author: glitterandsmut
Recipient: herbeautifullie
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 10,1780
Warnings: Mild Language
Summary: Important moments in each of the Marauders' lives.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks go to the wonderful maryfic for being a rockstar beta. I own none of the characters here, not even the ones mentioned in the twisted Black family tree. The Potters might not be cannon compliant, but I like to think they were. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!
Piglet: Pooh, how do you spell love?
Pooh: You don’t spell it, you feel it.
Not ten minutes after the arrival of the Potters, and already the boy’s tie was askew, there was a mysterious smudge of something on his trousers, and his hair was a complete mess (though from what Sirius had glimpsed of him earlier it hadn’t been much better to begin with).
Sirius didn’t believe in first impressions, but suffice it to say his first glimpse of James Potter left him feeling distinctly unimpressed.
Watching the irritated mother fuss over Potter’s tie made a complicated mix of emotions swirl in Sirius’ stomach. None of which he wanted to look at too closely, all of which only served to irritate him further.
Potter brushed aside his mother’s hands with a look of annoyance. The boy was far too used to getting his way, and Sirius never gave anyone their way unless it corresponded with his own. Not to mention Potter was wearing actual gold buttons on his dress robes. Who else but a complete pillock did that?
Sirius rolled his eyes and retreated further into Black Manor as the Potter boy loudly declared his disapproval of how dim the lighting was to his parents.
“Don’t they have lamps? Aren’t we supposed to have advanced from the nineteenth century? This is the twentieth century, people. Please, keep up!”
“Is that him, then?” Regulus had sidled up to Sirius’ side, dodging a couple of gossiping matrons. No need to wonder what-or who- they were suddenly whispering about.
The Potters had always been somewhat of an anomaly to this particular pureblood set. Though they never openly declared themselves muggle lovers, they hadn’t exactly spoken against them either, always remaining circumspect. They were either the most decorous of pureblood families, or excellent politicians.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Sirius responded wryly, watching as the disheveled Potter boy snatched up a handful of delicate finger foods from the nearest house elf’s serving tray, popping one into his mouth, and slipping the rest into his pocket.
Regulus scoffed and shook his head. “Why were they even invited? I thought the Potters were supposed to be blood traitors. No better than the Weasleys.” He sneered, an echo of their family’s prejudices stamped onto his small face.
Sirius gave him a warning look as the family in question passed through the entrance hall and swept by them into the parlor. When they’d disappeared, he murmured “It’s never really been proven, and you know how Mother feels about alienating any pureblood family. Especially ones like the Potters.”
He straightened as their parents passed them, his tie feeling uncomfortably tight. Only when he could no longer feel his mother’s presence itching between his shoulder blades did he resume. “Mrs. Potter also happens to be Grandfather Pollux’s sister, so you know Grandmother Irma had to invite them. The woman’s desperate to have some form of entertainment.”
Apparently, living in Scotland in social exile with her insane sister-in-law had given Grandmother Irma far too much time on her hands. And so this soiree was in honor of Beltane, which was really just a nice way of saying it was an opportunity to gather around and bemoan the state of other pureblood families.
Sirius himself wasn’t really sure what a regular Beltane celebration was suppose to entail, but he was certain it had something to do with a large pole representing a giant willy. When he tried telling this to Mother he received one of her blistering lectures (literally) and was promptly sent to bed without dinner.
“I don’t blame her. What in Merlin’s bollocks is there to do in Scotland?”
“There’s sheep, I suppose. But you’d know about that better than me, wouldn’t you, Regulus?”
His brother grimaced. “It could’ve been you, you know. Just because both our names have been in the family forever, I don’t see why I had to have been named after the nutter who did things to sheep. It could easily have been you.” Sirius sniggered as his brother went for the perfect sulk, arms crossed and scowling.
The Potter boy had vanished from his spot near the house elf, leaving behind only a few tidbits on the serving tray. Sirius glanced around just in time to watch the back of the other boy’s head disappear into a darkened doorway. He stared after him curiously, his feet already propelling him forward, and he hissed for his brother to wait for him a moment as he started after Potter.
Regulus straightened, frowning as he called out. “Where are you going?”
Sirius continued on without hearing him.
He entered an unlit hallway, a thudding sound drawing him towards the other end. As he neared the last door his foot came down on a small, hard object, drawing his gaze. A gold button. He reached down to pluck it off the ground and held it up to catch the shine of any wayward light. It glinted in his hand, polished and perfect; a speck of brightness that didn’t belong in the middle of dreary Black Manor.
Sirius pocketed the button and eyed the slightly ajar door suspiciously. It could only be Potter inside but a moment’s uncertainty gave Sirius pause. Fervently hoping he was not interrupting someone removing their robes or, Merlin save him, more than one person taking off their clothes, he slowly inched the door open.
Preparing to bolt in the opposite direction if need be, he poked his head into what looked like a large and dusty library. Someone had placed a lit candle on the edge of a desk at the far end of the room, though it did little to provide illumination. Sirius entered cautiously, moving towards the candle as he looked around for the other boy. A thump sounded from behind him and he whirled around to see a book sail through the air to join a small but rapidly growing pile of other books.
“Oi!” Sirius called, as he watched another book join the pile.
A familiar head of messy hair peeked out at him from behind the bookshelf as the owner squinted at him. “Hullo, do I know you?”
Sirius never bothered to answer stupid questions and he wasn’t about to start now. “What are you doing?”
Potter blinked at him and looked at the book in his hand as if noticing it for the first time. “This? Isn’t it obvious? I’m throwing books over my shoulder.” He gave Sirius a sharp look. “Rather stupid question to ask, isn’t it?”
Sirius brushed off his rising aggravation. “But why are you tossing them over your shoulder? Are you having some sort of fit?” Sirius hoped not, it wouldn’t do to be caught in a room with a crazy person. “Is this a desperate cry for attention?” Though, considering the madness of the Black family tree, he supposed he’d be in good company.
Potter gave him an odd look, which was hard to pull off, as he was still squinting. “No,” he said slowly, as though he were the one trapped with a madman. “I’m looking for hidden passageways, like in the stories.”
“What in Merlin’s beard do hidden passageways have to do with throwing books?” Sirius demanded, taking in Potter’s messy appearance. Merlin and Agrippa, the boy had somehow lost his robes and his shirt was missing several buttons now. Sirius’ hand went to the pocket he’d slipped the gold button in, but reconsidered taking it out as he continued. “And you can’t just go prancing around without your clothes on. This is a public gathering. Do the people a service and keep yourself clothed.”
Potter’s expression turned puzzled. “I’m hardly naked, am I?” He glanced down and then seemed to disregard his own questions as he continued, not waiting for a response. “Anyway, I thought this was a Beltane celebration. Isn’t there suppose to be some sort of prancing around with poles or something?”
“It’s only one pole.”
“Why a pole at all? Why can’t people prance around broomsticks? And then the last person prancing wins the broom.”
“Because, you barmpot, the pole is supposed to be in honor of giant willies everywhere.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I still like the broom idea better.”
They grinned at each other and Sirius joined him in front of the bookshelf. “So, why were you leaving buttons everywhere in the hall?”
“Not everywhere, just here and there. I didn’t have any bread so I’m using buttons in case I get lost. You know, like that one story.”
Sirius shook his head as Potter continued to pull random books off the shelf, squinting at the covers and eyeing the remaining ones. “What sort of mad stories are you reading? And would you stop squinting like that, you look like you’re on the toilet. It’s giving me a headache.”
Potter blinked and muttered morosely, “It’s my glasses; I’m not wearing them.”
“Well put them on, before your face gets stuck like that and I’m forced to look at it.” Sirius watched as Potter reached into his dress robes and pulled out a pair of round glasses. Regarding them with much reluctance, he unfolded them gingerly.
“I’ll look like a swot.”
“You are a swot. Now put them on.”
The glasses looked delicate but expensive; obviously the best money could buy. They fit Potter’s face rather nicely, or perhaps it was he was no longer squinting that made him look better. Either way, Sirius nodded his approval.
“See? You look much better. If only you could fix your hair you might have a shot at looking half way human.” Sirius turned to look at the bookshelf as Potter’s hand shot into his hair. Only certain titles had been pulled, at what seemed like random intervals. “What are you doing with the books?”
“I’m looking for secret passageways. In the stories there are always secret passageways in the evil bloke’s castle. And in order to get to them there’s a book you have to pull from a shelf that opens up the door. It’s in tons of muggle mysteries, you know.”
Sirius blinked at him. “That’s barmy.”
Potter grinned gleefully at him. “I know, aren’t muggles brilliant?” He resumed pulling books from the shelf with renewed excitement.
Sirius watched him, a troubled expression on his face. “Don’t you get in trouble for doing that? Reading muggle filth?”
Potter paused and looked at him wide-eyed. “Why would I get in trouble? It’s ace! We’ve got a whole shelf of muggle books in our library, but I convinced Mum and Dad to add an extra case of them. I hate reading anything twice and they know it, so I knew they wouldn’t say no. Not that they could. Who could possibly resist me?” He gave Sirius his most charming smile, and it was so ridiculous Sirius imagined people indulged him simply for his effusiveness.
With a shake of his head, Sirius began helping him pull books off the shelves. “You know, I reckon you could give my Uncle Cygnus a run for his money in the mental department.”
Though Sirius was extremely doubtful of their mission (“Why books? Why can’t it be as simple as a wand combination?”), he nevertheless helped Potter pull as many suspicious looking books from the shelves around them as they could. When their search yielded nothing, they went around tapping every surface with the tips of their wands. When they had exhausted all ideas, pulled everything they could pull, and tapped everything they could tap, the two boys decided to call it quits.
They sat on the floor side by side with their backs to an empty bookshelf. Potter had pulled out a box of Bertie Botts, which he graciously shared with Sirius.
“Bugger all,” he said thoughtfully, popping a bean into his mouth. “I’m disappointed. I thought for sure your mental family would have some dark passageways, maybe an evil lair or two.”
Sirius snorted “It’s your family, too. We’re first cousins, once removed.”
Potter looked at him sideways. “I reckon all purebloods are somehow related. And they’re not really my family; at least not in any way that counts.” Sirius was slightly alarmed to feel a pang of disappointment as Potter rooted through the beans in his hand to find one he liked. “How do you know all this stuff anyways? About who’s related to whom?”
Sirius’ sneer was at once pompous and bitter to match his tone. “I’m the Black heir; it’s my purpose in life to know who’s who.”
Potter chewed thoughtfully and seemed to come to a decision. “Well, they’ll never be my family, but I suppose you’re okay.”
Sirius busied himself with examining his own handful of beans. Potter was alright, he thought.
A soft beeping noise interrupted the quiet, and Potter scowled as he reached for his pocket and removed a pocket watch. A small light was flashing red as the beeping persisted until he pressed the button on top of the watch.
“Your parents put a leash on you?” Sirius asked incredulously.
Potter sighed as he mumbled. “They said it’s because I’m always running off; safety and all that rubbish.” Leashes were spelled into any object of choice and were used to keep track of young children. Usually rather pricey, they were mainly used by important political families. “Guess we’re going home.” He stood and Sirius stood with him. They moved rather reluctantly down the corridor, emerging into the entry hall where Charlus and Dorea Potter stood awaiting their son.
Potter turned toward Sirius and stuck out his hand. “Best party you’ve ever had with this old lot, I bet. We’ll have to do it again, sometime. How’s Hogwarts this year sound?”
Sirius smirked at him as he shook his hand. “Sounds like Hogwarts is never going to be the same again.”
They grinned at each other until Potter’s parents called for him. As he made his way towards them he loudly declared, “Mother, Father, I’ve decided to quit this place. These people are all frauds.” To which, his mother exclaimed in astonishment over the state of his robes and hair. It wasn’t until they turned to leave that Sirius realized that they had never even given each other their names.
Regulus slipped in next to Sirius as he watched the Potters depart. “Where were you? And why are your robes so dusty?”
Sirius absently patted at his clothes in surprise. “Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”
Regulus stared at him in shock. “Hadn’t noticed? But you always notice! And why did you shake Potter’s hand? I thought we didn’t like him.”
Sirius didn’t answer, his fingers playing with the small gold button inside his pocket. He couldn’t have said what it was he felt at that moment, and he didn’t want to look at it too closely. But in later years, if he was pressed to describe it, he’d say it was a lot like love.
Remus wasn’t quite sure of all the details but he was certain it all began with chemical warfare.
He’d been down for his usual set of potions in the hospital wing and was just heading up to the Gryffindor common room. The day leading up to the full moon always left him tired and achy, and like an old man, the pain in his joints was only made worse in the cold weather. Silently rehearsing his excuse for the lads, he gave the password to the fat lady and stepped through the portrait hole just in time to watch as Peter leapt up from the couch by the fire and raced upstairs.
Remus’ gaze slid from Peter’s rapidly retreating back towards James, who sat finishing off some Charms homework as though nothing unusual had happened. James glanced up at him, an odd sort of expression on his face. Remus couldn’t quite place the look until he realized it was carefully blank, a foreign expression for James Potter. He felt nervous, even as James went back to his homework.
“What’s wrong with Peter?” he asked, when it was clear James wasn’t going to say anything.
“Sirius was upset with him.” James replied, not even bothering to look up.
“I didn’t think that would be so upsetting for Peter. It usually isn’t.” Remus looked rather concerned as he glanced back towards the boys’ staircase. “Should we say something to him?”
James snorted as he dipped his quill into his inkwell. “You can, but I wouldn’t go up there just now.”
“Why? Do you reckon he’s having a cry or something?”
“No, he’s got the shits.”
“…Oh.”
They’d recently been given an assignment in potions to brew the simpler remedies that had been developed and influenced by chemical warfare during World War I, but Sirius had decided to submit a laxative potion as his project. When asked why, Sirius had replied that had these been used on enemy forces there’d have been no war as everyone would be too busy having bowel movements.
He later demonstrated this by sneaking half a vial of the concoction into a pitcher of pumpkin juice at the Slytherin table that evening. Ever since then, Sirius kept as small vial of the potion in his pocket. “For emergency response to gits,” he’d said.
James stopped writing long enough to look up at Remus and give him a smirk. “I wouldn’t worry for Peter if I were you. Sirius has first dibs on the bathroom tonight.”
“Oh,” Remus paused to consider that irony. “Gross.” he replied, appreciatively. He set his knapsack down next to the spot Peter had abandoned and took out his own books.
“All set for tomorrow then?” James asked.
Remus froze, a flare of panic striking him stupid for a moment. “What?”
“For tomorrow,” James continued, when Remus remained quiet. “You said you need to look up something for Potions tomorrow. Yes?”
“Yes!” Remus sputtered. “Yes, of course. It was on Brackford’s law for-“
“Please!” James interrupted with a pained look. “Isn’t it enough we’ll be taking the exam tomorrow? Must we talk about it in our spare time as well?”
Remus chuckled, relief turning it a bit strained. And though James gave him a rather puzzled look he didn’t pursue it like he would have with Sirius. Remus was relieved and, deep down in a place he never looked at too closely, also slightly disappointed.
The portrait hole banged open and they both looked up to find Sirius walking toward them with a look of annoyance on his patrician face. He exchanged a look with James and Remus couldn’t help the feeling he was being left out of something. He brushed it off as his own paranoia as Sirius took in Peter’s absence and Remus’ appearance.
“And where have you been?” James demanded. “You missed Peter. I thought you liked viewing the result of your dirty work.”
“Forget about that, we’ve got to get into the potions storeroom tomorrow night. Sluggy’s guarding the place like the royal treasury.” Sirius scowled as he threw himself into the armchair next to Remus.
“What do you need potion ingredients for?” Remus asked.
“Because Peter’s a tosspot and had to knock over my supply of laxative potion, so now I’ve got to do the whole thing over again.”
James rolled his eyes. “Hasn’t it gotten old by now? We can’t afford to be so predictable; it’s bad for our image.”
Sirius’ mouth opened to retort but stopped as they all watched Peter slowly make his way down the boys’ staircase, a disgruntled look on his face. Halfway down he froze and turned to race back up the stairs.
“Nope,” Sirius said. “Still hasn’t gotten old. So! Tomorrow, we’ll have a go at the store room, yeah?”
James let out a much put upon sigh. “Fine, but only because you amuse me.”
Remus hesitated. What evasion could he offer up this time? The boys always did their mischief during dinner or long after. If he was lucky he might be able to squeeze it in before nightfall. Remus regarded the fire doubtfully as the old familiar fear and panic rose up to do a meet and greet in his chest. He hid his expression before James or Sirius could comment by ducking down to pull a fresh quill from his bag.
They all got to work on various assignments but the ensuing companionable silence did nothing to lesson his mood, and by the time Peter joined them he was in such a state he could barely manage to put quill to parchment.
“All right, Remus?”
Remus glanced up to see Peter looking at him in concern. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though he knew from Peter’s expression that he’d failed. “I’m all right. Just a bit tired.”
Sirius dropped his quill as though the words were a signal and stretched. “I’m for bed as well. Let’s leave this rubbish for breakfast tomorrow. Peter, you can copy my transfiguration.”
They all packed up and trudged up to bed, going about their nightly rituals. Sirius gave Remus a concerned look on his way to the lavatory, but didn’t say anything. James was the one to speak instead.
“Are you sure you’re all right Remus? You look a bit peaky.”
“It’s nothing, I haven’t been feeling-“
Remus was abruptly cut off at Sirius’ disgusted shout from the lav. “Peter!”
“It’s your fault!”
James’ pressing question was forgotten in the ensuing laughter, Sirius cursing and Peter looking smug.
The next day found Remus hiding in the library before dinner and Lily Evans standing in front of him with look of extreme disquiet on her face. She was a very nice girl with rather pretty eyes, though for some reason she was friends with that horrible Snape. Remus supposed even the nicest people had their own problems.
“Remus, I really think you should go to the hospital wing. You don’t look very well.” She reached out a hand and felt his forehead. The contact startled Remus, who’d never had a stranger touch him before. Her frown deepened. “You feel a little warm, too. Let’s go,” Lily said decisively. “I’m taking you to the hospital wing. No don’t bother; I’ll come back for your books. Just leave them there; I’ll bring them to you after you’re settled.”
There was just no point in arguing with the girl. If the finality of Lily’s tone didn’t persuade him to go, then the utter wretchedness he was feeling would have.
His alibi for that night would just have to wait.
As always, when he reached the hospital wing he was bundled up and escorted to the Headmaster’s office, and then out to the Whomping Willow, down the dark tunnels to the Shrieking Shack, where he was left alone. And as always, Remus was possessed by the same urge that had taken him as a child, to plead his parents to stay, just for a little while; to cry or rage or something to release the utter anguish and fear that filled his chest. Instead, he walked up the stairs and curled up on the single bed, bunching the blankets in his fists as close around him as he could. He waited for the monster to take over his mind as surely as it had taken over so much of his life.
The next morning found Remus scratched, bleeding, and exhausted. He was laying naked on the rug in the living room, the destruction of the furniture around him a testament to the night before. Sighing and rising wearily, he walked over to his the pile of clothes he’d shed the previous night, feeling very old and forlorn.
When he was ready, he crept back down into the tunnel, gritting his teeth against the strain on his body. He met Madam Pomfrey outside of the Whomping Willow, where she promptly handed him a potion for healing and minor pain relief before escorting him the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing. Remus was cradling his right arm against his chest, an over large bite wound bleeding anew from his movement that morning. He crawled into bed, just barely summoning the energy to hoist himself up on the mattress.
Having given him all the potions and remedies deemed acceptable, Madam Pomfrey left him to his rest. They’d be seeing much of each other for the next three days, and so there was no need for thanks. Remus offered his anyway, his voice barely audible through the scratchiness in his throat. Lying back against the pillows, Remus felt a bone deep exhaustion. He didn’t know how he was going to spend the rest of his life doing this.
It was around this time that doors to the hospital wing creaked open and Remus, feeling a burst of panic, remembered he’d forgotten about his friends. Whispers floated in and Remus turned his head curiously. For a moment there was no one there, and quite suddenly James’ head popped up out of thin air.
“The coast is clear,” he hissed, and his invisibility cloak was thrown off to reveal Sirius and Peter, too.
Remus was at a loss at what to say. Were they here to exact revenge for his missing out on last night’s adventure? And how in Merlin’s name was he going to explain all his wounds? He decided to start with the basics and pray he could make up the rest as he went along.
“What,” he tried clearing his throat but it did nothing to help with the hoarseness. “What are you all doing here?”
Peter lifted up a sack and cheerfully said. “We’ve brought provisions.”
He remained silent as his friends set up around him, taking out snacks and breakfast looking foods, as well as warm tea and a stack of cards. Sirius dragged up a chair and James and Peter climbed up on the bed.
“But what are you all doing here?” Remus repeated.
“We talked about it, and we’ve decided that this is just not right, mate. You can’t keep leaving us out every time the moon’s full.” James said, with authority.
“Yeah,” Sirius interjected in outrage. “How do think it makes us feel? You going off and having adventures without us.”
Remus was at a loss of what to say.
“So we’ve decided what we’re going to do about it. It’s brilliant. We’ve been researching for weeks and you’ll never believe it but Sirius and James reckon it’s possible. They’ll have to help me of course but-“
“Wait,” Remus interrupted, his brow furrowed as he tried to wrap his exhausted mind around what was happening. “Just wait. What are you all going on about? Why are you here? How are you here?”
The three boys sitting around him exchanged glances, and when they looked back at him it was James who proceeded.
“We know, Remus.” James said gently.
“You know?” Remus repeated, his mind frantically trying to provide explanations behind what they were saying.
“We’ve known for a while, mate.” Sirius said simply, like he’d made an observation on the weather.
“Well not really, at least we didn’t really know know until last night. But now that we know for sure we’ve got the perfect solution.” Peter said excitedly.
Remus’ head felt as though someone had landed a very solid blow to it and had rendered him temporarily both deaf and dumb. There was a buzzing in his ears and he could hear the hollow sounds of the sea rushing in and out and in again. He vaguely heard a high pitched voice asking rather hysterically. “What do you know? How do you know?”
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Remus, as if you could keep a secret from us.” Sirius scoffed.
James was quick to try and soothe Remus’ fears. “It took us months to figure out something was off. And even when we followed you, we never managed to make it past Dumbledore’s office. It’s like he puts a confundus spell up when he takes you out. So we figured our best chance at catching you was to hide outside on the grounds.” This did nothing to alleviate Remus’ anxiety, but all the same there was a deep unclenching inside of his chest, a relief that relaxed something inside of him. For better or for worse, he was just so dammed relieved that someone else knew.
“So we did it last night; skipped dinner and everything.” Peter said proudly.
“So all that stuff, Peter knocking over Sirius’ laxative potion, Sirius being upset and wanting us to go steal potion ingredients, it was all a lie?” asked Remus, a strange sort of calm beginning to descend over him.
“No, that was all true. But you could say it was an opportunity.” James grinned.
They’d planned to sneak out during dinner time, only they were caught out by Professor McGonagall who’d been late going down to dinner. After a brief scolding (“You boys had better not be up to any more marauding this year. You are no longer first years and your tomfoolery will not be looked at so leniently.”), she had taken house points for James’ cheek (“But Professor, don’t you realize that marauding is our calling? We’re marauders, we maraud, marauding is what we do.”); and upon discovering Sirius and Peter red handed with stolen potions vials in their pockets (“Peter!” “How was I supposed to know that the two ingredients combined were going to leak out and eat through my pocket?”), they’d all been awarded detentions.
It still didn’t stop them from sneaking out to wait and watch as Remus descended into the tunnels beneath the Whomping Willow. They’d camped outside until morning to await his return and slipped back inside the entrance hall, where they ran into an exasperated Professor McGonagall, earning a second detention in less the twenty four hours.
“And so my friend, we come bearing provisions for the next leg of our monthly adventures together.” James announced, taking out books and holding one up in triumph.
Remus leaned forward as best as he could and read Animagus Transfigūrāre.
“See, we found out that your furry little problem doesn’t extend to other furry little things. So why not be furry little things ourselves?” James continued in his usual James speak, Peter picking up his train of thought as he took a book James passed over to him, sending another one on to Sirius.
“Only it won’t work if we just try to transfigure ourselves or each other, your nose is too keen for that. We needed a way to make our scents smell genuinely like animals. The only way to trick our DNA into doing that would be to physically will ourselves into having another type of DNA.”
“Voila, we’ll become animagi.” Sirius said, with a flourish of the book in his hand.
Remus became aware of pain shooting up his right arm and he looked down to find that he’d clenched both hands into fists during their talk. Here they were discussing his lifelong misery, his disfigurement, the fact that he was a monster with all the ease of their next prank. Not only were they not running for Dumbledore and writing home to have their parents demand he be expelled immediately, they wanted to help him.
“I can’t let you do this.” Remus said faintly. “You all can’t do this.”
Sirius reached for a sugar quill. “Sure we can. Well, maybe not Peter, but James and I will help him, don’t worry.”
Remus let out a strangled sound. “No, you really can’t do this. If you’re caught it doesn’t mean just expulsion or points, it’ll be actual prison time. Not to mention if something goes wrong and I hurt one of you, or all of you-“
“We want to do this. And think about it Remus, you won’t have to be alone anymore.” Peter insisted.
Remus wavered at the words. It was such a tempting idea, so very tempting to think it could work. But it was very risky, too risky. “I’ve always been alone. I’m used to it,” he said with false bravado. “It’s just too dangerous. There are so many things that could go wrong, and if someone finds out…”
“We won’t let them.” James soothed.
“I can’t let you all take that risk for me.”
Sirius snorted. “Who says we’re doing it for you? I, for one, have always wanted to be a criminal.”
“You’re not going to win this one, Remus.” James said with utter confidence, reaching over to snag a box of Bertie Botts from the pile of snacks.
Remus, too tired to fight or do much else, brought his hands up to cover his face. The other boys went on doing their separate things as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and for that he was grateful.
He wasn’t crying; there were no tears in the entire world to express what he was feeling at that moment, but that was okay because he was feeling something so profound his heart felt constricted and light at the same time. And if he awoke a little while later to the sound of Lily Evans and James bickering by his bedside, well that was okay, too; because for the first time in his life, Remus Lupin was no longer alone.
( Please click here for Part 2 of 2)
Author: glitterandsmut
Recipient: herbeautifullie
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 10,1780
Warnings: Mild Language
Summary: Important moments in each of the Marauders' lives.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks go to the wonderful maryfic for being a rockstar beta. I own none of the characters here, not even the ones mentioned in the twisted Black family tree. The Potters might not be cannon compliant, but I like to think they were. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!
Piglet: Pooh, how do you spell love?
Pooh: You don’t spell it, you feel it.
Not ten minutes after the arrival of the Potters, and already the boy’s tie was askew, there was a mysterious smudge of something on his trousers, and his hair was a complete mess (though from what Sirius had glimpsed of him earlier it hadn’t been much better to begin with).
Sirius didn’t believe in first impressions, but suffice it to say his first glimpse of James Potter left him feeling distinctly unimpressed.
Watching the irritated mother fuss over Potter’s tie made a complicated mix of emotions swirl in Sirius’ stomach. None of which he wanted to look at too closely, all of which only served to irritate him further.
Potter brushed aside his mother’s hands with a look of annoyance. The boy was far too used to getting his way, and Sirius never gave anyone their way unless it corresponded with his own. Not to mention Potter was wearing actual gold buttons on his dress robes. Who else but a complete pillock did that?
Sirius rolled his eyes and retreated further into Black Manor as the Potter boy loudly declared his disapproval of how dim the lighting was to his parents.
“Don’t they have lamps? Aren’t we supposed to have advanced from the nineteenth century? This is the twentieth century, people. Please, keep up!”
“Is that him, then?” Regulus had sidled up to Sirius’ side, dodging a couple of gossiping matrons. No need to wonder what-or who- they were suddenly whispering about.
The Potters had always been somewhat of an anomaly to this particular pureblood set. Though they never openly declared themselves muggle lovers, they hadn’t exactly spoken against them either, always remaining circumspect. They were either the most decorous of pureblood families, or excellent politicians.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Sirius responded wryly, watching as the disheveled Potter boy snatched up a handful of delicate finger foods from the nearest house elf’s serving tray, popping one into his mouth, and slipping the rest into his pocket.
Regulus scoffed and shook his head. “Why were they even invited? I thought the Potters were supposed to be blood traitors. No better than the Weasleys.” He sneered, an echo of their family’s prejudices stamped onto his small face.
Sirius gave him a warning look as the family in question passed through the entrance hall and swept by them into the parlor. When they’d disappeared, he murmured “It’s never really been proven, and you know how Mother feels about alienating any pureblood family. Especially ones like the Potters.”
He straightened as their parents passed them, his tie feeling uncomfortably tight. Only when he could no longer feel his mother’s presence itching between his shoulder blades did he resume. “Mrs. Potter also happens to be Grandfather Pollux’s sister, so you know Grandmother Irma had to invite them. The woman’s desperate to have some form of entertainment.”
Apparently, living in Scotland in social exile with her insane sister-in-law had given Grandmother Irma far too much time on her hands. And so this soiree was in honor of Beltane, which was really just a nice way of saying it was an opportunity to gather around and bemoan the state of other pureblood families.
Sirius himself wasn’t really sure what a regular Beltane celebration was suppose to entail, but he was certain it had something to do with a large pole representing a giant willy. When he tried telling this to Mother he received one of her blistering lectures (literally) and was promptly sent to bed without dinner.
“I don’t blame her. What in Merlin’s bollocks is there to do in Scotland?”
“There’s sheep, I suppose. But you’d know about that better than me, wouldn’t you, Regulus?”
His brother grimaced. “It could’ve been you, you know. Just because both our names have been in the family forever, I don’t see why I had to have been named after the nutter who did things to sheep. It could easily have been you.” Sirius sniggered as his brother went for the perfect sulk, arms crossed and scowling.
The Potter boy had vanished from his spot near the house elf, leaving behind only a few tidbits on the serving tray. Sirius glanced around just in time to watch the back of the other boy’s head disappear into a darkened doorway. He stared after him curiously, his feet already propelling him forward, and he hissed for his brother to wait for him a moment as he started after Potter.
Regulus straightened, frowning as he called out. “Where are you going?”
Sirius continued on without hearing him.
He entered an unlit hallway, a thudding sound drawing him towards the other end. As he neared the last door his foot came down on a small, hard object, drawing his gaze. A gold button. He reached down to pluck it off the ground and held it up to catch the shine of any wayward light. It glinted in his hand, polished and perfect; a speck of brightness that didn’t belong in the middle of dreary Black Manor.
Sirius pocketed the button and eyed the slightly ajar door suspiciously. It could only be Potter inside but a moment’s uncertainty gave Sirius pause. Fervently hoping he was not interrupting someone removing their robes or, Merlin save him, more than one person taking off their clothes, he slowly inched the door open.
Preparing to bolt in the opposite direction if need be, he poked his head into what looked like a large and dusty library. Someone had placed a lit candle on the edge of a desk at the far end of the room, though it did little to provide illumination. Sirius entered cautiously, moving towards the candle as he looked around for the other boy. A thump sounded from behind him and he whirled around to see a book sail through the air to join a small but rapidly growing pile of other books.
“Oi!” Sirius called, as he watched another book join the pile.
A familiar head of messy hair peeked out at him from behind the bookshelf as the owner squinted at him. “Hullo, do I know you?”
Sirius never bothered to answer stupid questions and he wasn’t about to start now. “What are you doing?”
Potter blinked at him and looked at the book in his hand as if noticing it for the first time. “This? Isn’t it obvious? I’m throwing books over my shoulder.” He gave Sirius a sharp look. “Rather stupid question to ask, isn’t it?”
Sirius brushed off his rising aggravation. “But why are you tossing them over your shoulder? Are you having some sort of fit?” Sirius hoped not, it wouldn’t do to be caught in a room with a crazy person. “Is this a desperate cry for attention?” Though, considering the madness of the Black family tree, he supposed he’d be in good company.
Potter gave him an odd look, which was hard to pull off, as he was still squinting. “No,” he said slowly, as though he were the one trapped with a madman. “I’m looking for hidden passageways, like in the stories.”
“What in Merlin’s beard do hidden passageways have to do with throwing books?” Sirius demanded, taking in Potter’s messy appearance. Merlin and Agrippa, the boy had somehow lost his robes and his shirt was missing several buttons now. Sirius’ hand went to the pocket he’d slipped the gold button in, but reconsidered taking it out as he continued. “And you can’t just go prancing around without your clothes on. This is a public gathering. Do the people a service and keep yourself clothed.”
Potter’s expression turned puzzled. “I’m hardly naked, am I?” He glanced down and then seemed to disregard his own questions as he continued, not waiting for a response. “Anyway, I thought this was a Beltane celebration. Isn’t there suppose to be some sort of prancing around with poles or something?”
“It’s only one pole.”
“Why a pole at all? Why can’t people prance around broomsticks? And then the last person prancing wins the broom.”
“Because, you barmpot, the pole is supposed to be in honor of giant willies everywhere.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I still like the broom idea better.”
They grinned at each other and Sirius joined him in front of the bookshelf. “So, why were you leaving buttons everywhere in the hall?”
“Not everywhere, just here and there. I didn’t have any bread so I’m using buttons in case I get lost. You know, like that one story.”
Sirius shook his head as Potter continued to pull random books off the shelf, squinting at the covers and eyeing the remaining ones. “What sort of mad stories are you reading? And would you stop squinting like that, you look like you’re on the toilet. It’s giving me a headache.”
Potter blinked and muttered morosely, “It’s my glasses; I’m not wearing them.”
“Well put them on, before your face gets stuck like that and I’m forced to look at it.” Sirius watched as Potter reached into his dress robes and pulled out a pair of round glasses. Regarding them with much reluctance, he unfolded them gingerly.
“I’ll look like a swot.”
“You are a swot. Now put them on.”
The glasses looked delicate but expensive; obviously the best money could buy. They fit Potter’s face rather nicely, or perhaps it was he was no longer squinting that made him look better. Either way, Sirius nodded his approval.
“See? You look much better. If only you could fix your hair you might have a shot at looking half way human.” Sirius turned to look at the bookshelf as Potter’s hand shot into his hair. Only certain titles had been pulled, at what seemed like random intervals. “What are you doing with the books?”
“I’m looking for secret passageways. In the stories there are always secret passageways in the evil bloke’s castle. And in order to get to them there’s a book you have to pull from a shelf that opens up the door. It’s in tons of muggle mysteries, you know.”
Sirius blinked at him. “That’s barmy.”
Potter grinned gleefully at him. “I know, aren’t muggles brilliant?” He resumed pulling books from the shelf with renewed excitement.
Sirius watched him, a troubled expression on his face. “Don’t you get in trouble for doing that? Reading muggle filth?”
Potter paused and looked at him wide-eyed. “Why would I get in trouble? It’s ace! We’ve got a whole shelf of muggle books in our library, but I convinced Mum and Dad to add an extra case of them. I hate reading anything twice and they know it, so I knew they wouldn’t say no. Not that they could. Who could possibly resist me?” He gave Sirius his most charming smile, and it was so ridiculous Sirius imagined people indulged him simply for his effusiveness.
With a shake of his head, Sirius began helping him pull books off the shelves. “You know, I reckon you could give my Uncle Cygnus a run for his money in the mental department.”
Though Sirius was extremely doubtful of their mission (“Why books? Why can’t it be as simple as a wand combination?”), he nevertheless helped Potter pull as many suspicious looking books from the shelves around them as they could. When their search yielded nothing, they went around tapping every surface with the tips of their wands. When they had exhausted all ideas, pulled everything they could pull, and tapped everything they could tap, the two boys decided to call it quits.
They sat on the floor side by side with their backs to an empty bookshelf. Potter had pulled out a box of Bertie Botts, which he graciously shared with Sirius.
“Bugger all,” he said thoughtfully, popping a bean into his mouth. “I’m disappointed. I thought for sure your mental family would have some dark passageways, maybe an evil lair or two.”
Sirius snorted “It’s your family, too. We’re first cousins, once removed.”
Potter looked at him sideways. “I reckon all purebloods are somehow related. And they’re not really my family; at least not in any way that counts.” Sirius was slightly alarmed to feel a pang of disappointment as Potter rooted through the beans in his hand to find one he liked. “How do you know all this stuff anyways? About who’s related to whom?”
Sirius’ sneer was at once pompous and bitter to match his tone. “I’m the Black heir; it’s my purpose in life to know who’s who.”
Potter chewed thoughtfully and seemed to come to a decision. “Well, they’ll never be my family, but I suppose you’re okay.”
Sirius busied himself with examining his own handful of beans. Potter was alright, he thought.
A soft beeping noise interrupted the quiet, and Potter scowled as he reached for his pocket and removed a pocket watch. A small light was flashing red as the beeping persisted until he pressed the button on top of the watch.
“Your parents put a leash on you?” Sirius asked incredulously.
Potter sighed as he mumbled. “They said it’s because I’m always running off; safety and all that rubbish.” Leashes were spelled into any object of choice and were used to keep track of young children. Usually rather pricey, they were mainly used by important political families. “Guess we’re going home.” He stood and Sirius stood with him. They moved rather reluctantly down the corridor, emerging into the entry hall where Charlus and Dorea Potter stood awaiting their son.
Potter turned toward Sirius and stuck out his hand. “Best party you’ve ever had with this old lot, I bet. We’ll have to do it again, sometime. How’s Hogwarts this year sound?”
Sirius smirked at him as he shook his hand. “Sounds like Hogwarts is never going to be the same again.”
They grinned at each other until Potter’s parents called for him. As he made his way towards them he loudly declared, “Mother, Father, I’ve decided to quit this place. These people are all frauds.” To which, his mother exclaimed in astonishment over the state of his robes and hair. It wasn’t until they turned to leave that Sirius realized that they had never even given each other their names.
Regulus slipped in next to Sirius as he watched the Potters depart. “Where were you? And why are your robes so dusty?”
Sirius absently patted at his clothes in surprise. “Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”
Regulus stared at him in shock. “Hadn’t noticed? But you always notice! And why did you shake Potter’s hand? I thought we didn’t like him.”
Sirius didn’t answer, his fingers playing with the small gold button inside his pocket. He couldn’t have said what it was he felt at that moment, and he didn’t want to look at it too closely. But in later years, if he was pressed to describe it, he’d say it was a lot like love.
Remus wasn’t quite sure of all the details but he was certain it all began with chemical warfare.
He’d been down for his usual set of potions in the hospital wing and was just heading up to the Gryffindor common room. The day leading up to the full moon always left him tired and achy, and like an old man, the pain in his joints was only made worse in the cold weather. Silently rehearsing his excuse for the lads, he gave the password to the fat lady and stepped through the portrait hole just in time to watch as Peter leapt up from the couch by the fire and raced upstairs.
Remus’ gaze slid from Peter’s rapidly retreating back towards James, who sat finishing off some Charms homework as though nothing unusual had happened. James glanced up at him, an odd sort of expression on his face. Remus couldn’t quite place the look until he realized it was carefully blank, a foreign expression for James Potter. He felt nervous, even as James went back to his homework.
“What’s wrong with Peter?” he asked, when it was clear James wasn’t going to say anything.
“Sirius was upset with him.” James replied, not even bothering to look up.
“I didn’t think that would be so upsetting for Peter. It usually isn’t.” Remus looked rather concerned as he glanced back towards the boys’ staircase. “Should we say something to him?”
James snorted as he dipped his quill into his inkwell. “You can, but I wouldn’t go up there just now.”
“Why? Do you reckon he’s having a cry or something?”
“No, he’s got the shits.”
“…Oh.”
They’d recently been given an assignment in potions to brew the simpler remedies that had been developed and influenced by chemical warfare during World War I, but Sirius had decided to submit a laxative potion as his project. When asked why, Sirius had replied that had these been used on enemy forces there’d have been no war as everyone would be too busy having bowel movements.
He later demonstrated this by sneaking half a vial of the concoction into a pitcher of pumpkin juice at the Slytherin table that evening. Ever since then, Sirius kept as small vial of the potion in his pocket. “For emergency response to gits,” he’d said.
James stopped writing long enough to look up at Remus and give him a smirk. “I wouldn’t worry for Peter if I were you. Sirius has first dibs on the bathroom tonight.”
“Oh,” Remus paused to consider that irony. “Gross.” he replied, appreciatively. He set his knapsack down next to the spot Peter had abandoned and took out his own books.
“All set for tomorrow then?” James asked.
Remus froze, a flare of panic striking him stupid for a moment. “What?”
“For tomorrow,” James continued, when Remus remained quiet. “You said you need to look up something for Potions tomorrow. Yes?”
“Yes!” Remus sputtered. “Yes, of course. It was on Brackford’s law for-“
“Please!” James interrupted with a pained look. “Isn’t it enough we’ll be taking the exam tomorrow? Must we talk about it in our spare time as well?”
Remus chuckled, relief turning it a bit strained. And though James gave him a rather puzzled look he didn’t pursue it like he would have with Sirius. Remus was relieved and, deep down in a place he never looked at too closely, also slightly disappointed.
The portrait hole banged open and they both looked up to find Sirius walking toward them with a look of annoyance on his patrician face. He exchanged a look with James and Remus couldn’t help the feeling he was being left out of something. He brushed it off as his own paranoia as Sirius took in Peter’s absence and Remus’ appearance.
“And where have you been?” James demanded. “You missed Peter. I thought you liked viewing the result of your dirty work.”
“Forget about that, we’ve got to get into the potions storeroom tomorrow night. Sluggy’s guarding the place like the royal treasury.” Sirius scowled as he threw himself into the armchair next to Remus.
“What do you need potion ingredients for?” Remus asked.
“Because Peter’s a tosspot and had to knock over my supply of laxative potion, so now I’ve got to do the whole thing over again.”
James rolled his eyes. “Hasn’t it gotten old by now? We can’t afford to be so predictable; it’s bad for our image.”
Sirius’ mouth opened to retort but stopped as they all watched Peter slowly make his way down the boys’ staircase, a disgruntled look on his face. Halfway down he froze and turned to race back up the stairs.
“Nope,” Sirius said. “Still hasn’t gotten old. So! Tomorrow, we’ll have a go at the store room, yeah?”
James let out a much put upon sigh. “Fine, but only because you amuse me.”
Remus hesitated. What evasion could he offer up this time? The boys always did their mischief during dinner or long after. If he was lucky he might be able to squeeze it in before nightfall. Remus regarded the fire doubtfully as the old familiar fear and panic rose up to do a meet and greet in his chest. He hid his expression before James or Sirius could comment by ducking down to pull a fresh quill from his bag.
They all got to work on various assignments but the ensuing companionable silence did nothing to lesson his mood, and by the time Peter joined them he was in such a state he could barely manage to put quill to parchment.
“All right, Remus?”
Remus glanced up to see Peter looking at him in concern. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, though he knew from Peter’s expression that he’d failed. “I’m all right. Just a bit tired.”
Sirius dropped his quill as though the words were a signal and stretched. “I’m for bed as well. Let’s leave this rubbish for breakfast tomorrow. Peter, you can copy my transfiguration.”
They all packed up and trudged up to bed, going about their nightly rituals. Sirius gave Remus a concerned look on his way to the lavatory, but didn’t say anything. James was the one to speak instead.
“Are you sure you’re all right Remus? You look a bit peaky.”
“It’s nothing, I haven’t been feeling-“
Remus was abruptly cut off at Sirius’ disgusted shout from the lav. “Peter!”
“It’s your fault!”
James’ pressing question was forgotten in the ensuing laughter, Sirius cursing and Peter looking smug.
The next day found Remus hiding in the library before dinner and Lily Evans standing in front of him with look of extreme disquiet on her face. She was a very nice girl with rather pretty eyes, though for some reason she was friends with that horrible Snape. Remus supposed even the nicest people had their own problems.
“Remus, I really think you should go to the hospital wing. You don’t look very well.” She reached out a hand and felt his forehead. The contact startled Remus, who’d never had a stranger touch him before. Her frown deepened. “You feel a little warm, too. Let’s go,” Lily said decisively. “I’m taking you to the hospital wing. No don’t bother; I’ll come back for your books. Just leave them there; I’ll bring them to you after you’re settled.”
There was just no point in arguing with the girl. If the finality of Lily’s tone didn’t persuade him to go, then the utter wretchedness he was feeling would have.
His alibi for that night would just have to wait.
As always, when he reached the hospital wing he was bundled up and escorted to the Headmaster’s office, and then out to the Whomping Willow, down the dark tunnels to the Shrieking Shack, where he was left alone. And as always, Remus was possessed by the same urge that had taken him as a child, to plead his parents to stay, just for a little while; to cry or rage or something to release the utter anguish and fear that filled his chest. Instead, he walked up the stairs and curled up on the single bed, bunching the blankets in his fists as close around him as he could. He waited for the monster to take over his mind as surely as it had taken over so much of his life.
The next morning found Remus scratched, bleeding, and exhausted. He was laying naked on the rug in the living room, the destruction of the furniture around him a testament to the night before. Sighing and rising wearily, he walked over to his the pile of clothes he’d shed the previous night, feeling very old and forlorn.
When he was ready, he crept back down into the tunnel, gritting his teeth against the strain on his body. He met Madam Pomfrey outside of the Whomping Willow, where she promptly handed him a potion for healing and minor pain relief before escorting him the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing. Remus was cradling his right arm against his chest, an over large bite wound bleeding anew from his movement that morning. He crawled into bed, just barely summoning the energy to hoist himself up on the mattress.
Having given him all the potions and remedies deemed acceptable, Madam Pomfrey left him to his rest. They’d be seeing much of each other for the next three days, and so there was no need for thanks. Remus offered his anyway, his voice barely audible through the scratchiness in his throat. Lying back against the pillows, Remus felt a bone deep exhaustion. He didn’t know how he was going to spend the rest of his life doing this.
It was around this time that doors to the hospital wing creaked open and Remus, feeling a burst of panic, remembered he’d forgotten about his friends. Whispers floated in and Remus turned his head curiously. For a moment there was no one there, and quite suddenly James’ head popped up out of thin air.
“The coast is clear,” he hissed, and his invisibility cloak was thrown off to reveal Sirius and Peter, too.
Remus was at a loss at what to say. Were they here to exact revenge for his missing out on last night’s adventure? And how in Merlin’s name was he going to explain all his wounds? He decided to start with the basics and pray he could make up the rest as he went along.
“What,” he tried clearing his throat but it did nothing to help with the hoarseness. “What are you all doing here?”
Peter lifted up a sack and cheerfully said. “We’ve brought provisions.”
He remained silent as his friends set up around him, taking out snacks and breakfast looking foods, as well as warm tea and a stack of cards. Sirius dragged up a chair and James and Peter climbed up on the bed.
“But what are you all doing here?” Remus repeated.
“We talked about it, and we’ve decided that this is just not right, mate. You can’t keep leaving us out every time the moon’s full.” James said, with authority.
“Yeah,” Sirius interjected in outrage. “How do think it makes us feel? You going off and having adventures without us.”
Remus was at a loss of what to say.
“So we’ve decided what we’re going to do about it. It’s brilliant. We’ve been researching for weeks and you’ll never believe it but Sirius and James reckon it’s possible. They’ll have to help me of course but-“
“Wait,” Remus interrupted, his brow furrowed as he tried to wrap his exhausted mind around what was happening. “Just wait. What are you all going on about? Why are you here? How are you here?”
The three boys sitting around him exchanged glances, and when they looked back at him it was James who proceeded.
“We know, Remus.” James said gently.
“You know?” Remus repeated, his mind frantically trying to provide explanations behind what they were saying.
“We’ve known for a while, mate.” Sirius said simply, like he’d made an observation on the weather.
“Well not really, at least we didn’t really know know until last night. But now that we know for sure we’ve got the perfect solution.” Peter said excitedly.
Remus’ head felt as though someone had landed a very solid blow to it and had rendered him temporarily both deaf and dumb. There was a buzzing in his ears and he could hear the hollow sounds of the sea rushing in and out and in again. He vaguely heard a high pitched voice asking rather hysterically. “What do you know? How do you know?”
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Remus, as if you could keep a secret from us.” Sirius scoffed.
James was quick to try and soothe Remus’ fears. “It took us months to figure out something was off. And even when we followed you, we never managed to make it past Dumbledore’s office. It’s like he puts a confundus spell up when he takes you out. So we figured our best chance at catching you was to hide outside on the grounds.” This did nothing to alleviate Remus’ anxiety, but all the same there was a deep unclenching inside of his chest, a relief that relaxed something inside of him. For better or for worse, he was just so dammed relieved that someone else knew.
“So we did it last night; skipped dinner and everything.” Peter said proudly.
“So all that stuff, Peter knocking over Sirius’ laxative potion, Sirius being upset and wanting us to go steal potion ingredients, it was all a lie?” asked Remus, a strange sort of calm beginning to descend over him.
“No, that was all true. But you could say it was an opportunity.” James grinned.
They’d planned to sneak out during dinner time, only they were caught out by Professor McGonagall who’d been late going down to dinner. After a brief scolding (“You boys had better not be up to any more marauding this year. You are no longer first years and your tomfoolery will not be looked at so leniently.”), she had taken house points for James’ cheek (“But Professor, don’t you realize that marauding is our calling? We’re marauders, we maraud, marauding is what we do.”); and upon discovering Sirius and Peter red handed with stolen potions vials in their pockets (“Peter!” “How was I supposed to know that the two ingredients combined were going to leak out and eat through my pocket?”), they’d all been awarded detentions.
It still didn’t stop them from sneaking out to wait and watch as Remus descended into the tunnels beneath the Whomping Willow. They’d camped outside until morning to await his return and slipped back inside the entrance hall, where they ran into an exasperated Professor McGonagall, earning a second detention in less the twenty four hours.
“And so my friend, we come bearing provisions for the next leg of our monthly adventures together.” James announced, taking out books and holding one up in triumph.
Remus leaned forward as best as he could and read Animagus Transfigūrāre.
“See, we found out that your furry little problem doesn’t extend to other furry little things. So why not be furry little things ourselves?” James continued in his usual James speak, Peter picking up his train of thought as he took a book James passed over to him, sending another one on to Sirius.
“Only it won’t work if we just try to transfigure ourselves or each other, your nose is too keen for that. We needed a way to make our scents smell genuinely like animals. The only way to trick our DNA into doing that would be to physically will ourselves into having another type of DNA.”
“Voila, we’ll become animagi.” Sirius said, with a flourish of the book in his hand.
Remus became aware of pain shooting up his right arm and he looked down to find that he’d clenched both hands into fists during their talk. Here they were discussing his lifelong misery, his disfigurement, the fact that he was a monster with all the ease of their next prank. Not only were they not running for Dumbledore and writing home to have their parents demand he be expelled immediately, they wanted to help him.
“I can’t let you do this.” Remus said faintly. “You all can’t do this.”
Sirius reached for a sugar quill. “Sure we can. Well, maybe not Peter, but James and I will help him, don’t worry.”
Remus let out a strangled sound. “No, you really can’t do this. If you’re caught it doesn’t mean just expulsion or points, it’ll be actual prison time. Not to mention if something goes wrong and I hurt one of you, or all of you-“
“We want to do this. And think about it Remus, you won’t have to be alone anymore.” Peter insisted.
Remus wavered at the words. It was such a tempting idea, so very tempting to think it could work. But it was very risky, too risky. “I’ve always been alone. I’m used to it,” he said with false bravado. “It’s just too dangerous. There are so many things that could go wrong, and if someone finds out…”
“We won’t let them.” James soothed.
“I can’t let you all take that risk for me.”
Sirius snorted. “Who says we’re doing it for you? I, for one, have always wanted to be a criminal.”
“You’re not going to win this one, Remus.” James said with utter confidence, reaching over to snag a box of Bertie Botts from the pile of snacks.
Remus, too tired to fight or do much else, brought his hands up to cover his face. The other boys went on doing their separate things as though nothing was out of the ordinary, and for that he was grateful.
He wasn’t crying; there were no tears in the entire world to express what he was feeling at that moment, but that was okay because he was feeling something so profound his heart felt constricted and light at the same time. And if he awoke a little while later to the sound of Lily Evans and James bickering by his bedside, well that was okay, too; because for the first time in his life, Remus Lupin was no longer alone.
( Please click here for Part 2 of 2)