Chapter 1
September 1, 1971
Remus Lupin sat underneath the sorting hat, new robes feeling a bit stiff on him. He couldn't help but squirm a little as the hat grumbled something he couldn't quite make out above his head. Everyone in the main hall was staring wide-eyed at him, and a hush fell over the entire room when the hat finally began moving.
The sorting hat had taken longer than usual, at least from what Remus could tell after hearing the other sortings. After a light-haired, lanky-looking kid called James Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, Remus had watched with bated breath as a freckled girl walked toward the Hufflepuff table, then a dark-haired girl go into Ravenclaw. And now it was his turn to be sorted, and Remus couldn't help but wipe his sweaty palms on those fresh new robes as his as he waited, nervously.
"Well," the sorting hat growled, "I think we better put you into …" The whole hall stared expectantly up at the sorting hat, then down at Remus. "GRYFFINDOR!" The clapping of the whole hall - Gryffindor table in particular - thundered across the entire room, and Remus was greeted with clapping on his shoulders and warm smiles as he faintly walked over to the Gryffindor table, taking an empty seat next to the brown-haired boy who he remembered being called James.
"Welcome to Gryffindor," he said, an amiable smile on his face. James ruffled the front patch of his hair until it looked like an untidy bush.
Remus smiled back, then quickly looked away. He hoped James hadn't noticed his strange behavior - he didn't want him to see the thin scars that snaked down the side of his face, scars he'd had for nearly six years since he was infected with lycanthropy.
But who was he kidding? He wouldn't be able to hide his condition forever. Dumbledore knows what to do, his parents had told him. Dumbledore seemed like a wise man, as Remus looked up at him, sitting pleasantly at the professors' table with his hands folded neatly across his lap, but Remus wasn't sure there was anyone who could help him.
He was just thinking about when the next full moon would be, and what he would do, when he felt a dark presence take the seat on the other side of him, two spots away from James. "Hello," said James from the other side of him, one hand flicking in a friendly wave.
The dark-haired boy stared for a moment, and Remus wondered if he had even heard what James had said when … "Hi," he replied.
Remus studied him for a long minute, then said, "I'm Remus Lupin, nice to meet you."
The dark-haired boy simply nodded once, though not in a hostile way. "And I'm James Potter. What's your name, then?" James said, voice still friendly as ever.
"Sirius," replied the boy. He didn't seem shy, but he looked down slightly, averting his gaze from Remus and James.
"Just Sirius?" pressed James, a triangle of confusion marking his forehead.
"Erm," struggled Sirius. He muttered something under his breath, but Remus couldn't quite make out what it was.
"What was that?" asked James, still in his polite voice.
"Black," said Sirius, in a voice so quiet Remus could barely hear.
He was about to ask why the name sounded so familiar when … A narrow-eyed girl from the Slytherin table jolted up from her seat, finger pointed accusingly toward Sirius. "Black!" she snapped. "What are you doing at the Gryffindor table?"
Sirius's weary eyes looked up, but James answered before he was able to. "Don't talk to him like that! Sirius is a proud Gryffindor, and that makes him one of us." James crossed his arms in a confident sort of way that made Remus forget for a moment about his scars.
The girl's already narrow eyes slitted into even thinner features when she said, "Oh is he, Potter? Well, did you know his parents are proud purebloods, and they don't meddle with the dirty mudbloods in Gryffindor." She crossed her arms in a sure sort of way, and a few large Slytherins came to stand behind her.
Remus also noticed a shy looking boy at the far end of the Slytherin table, with long black hair and darting eyes. But he didn't so much as look up as his fellow Slytherins raised their voices.
"We aren't the same," muttered Sirius, still sitting beside Remus.
"And anyway," said James, having attracted his own group of Gryffindors by his side. "Sirius is a Gryffindor now, so it doesn't very well matter where he came from, does it?" Remus almost felt Sirius brighten by his side.
The girl was about to retort something when an old man with young, twinkling eyes, a long, silver beard, and pale blue robes came walking toward them, a goblet in his hand. She snapped her mouth shut when Dumbledore walked up to the Gryffindor table. "Welcome, first-years," he said in a kind voice. Something about the way Dumbledore looked each of them in the eye made Remus want to trust him, even though he knew there was no way of curing his … affliction. Dumbledore finished off whatever was in his goblet, then looked straight at him. "Remus," he said in a quieter voice, so none of the others could hear him, "Would you mind following me up to my office? I have something I want to discuss with you."
Remus knew Dumbledore was a fair man, but he couldn't help feeling a little anxious as Dumbledore led him out of the dining hall. Before they could leave, however, a short, plump-looking boy accidentally bumped into Dumbledore, causing him to stagger back a step or two. "S-s-sorry," the boy ground out, his small eyes looking wide and frightened as he stared up at Dumbledore.
"It's quite alright," Dumbledore replied, a small smile still on his face. "If I were to say I've never bumped into anyone after a goblet too much of butterbeer, I wouldn't be very truthful," he chuckled, adjusting his spectacles.
Remus thought the plump boy would faint, he seemed so relieved. "Th-thank you, headmaster. Thank you. I'm so sorry, again."
When the boy was done stuttering over apologies and thank-you's, Dumbledore looked kindly down at him and said, "What was your name, again? I don't remember your face on the roster of new students …"
The boy's eyes widened again before he stammered, "Pe-peter, sir. Peter Pettigrew."
Dumbledore smiled once again at him as he said, "Aah, yes, of course. Welcome to Hogwarts, Peter." He was about to walk out of the dining hall when he turned back and added, "And there is no need to call me Sir, Peter. I might be an old man, but not that old! Dumbledore will do." He waved at the first years before climbing the stairs at a surprisingly fast rate.
Remus could barely keep up with him.
"Dumbledore?" he asked in a timid voice.
Dumbledore acknowledged him with a grunt as he turned a sharp corner, past a stone staircase that led to … a painting.
"Is this about my … err, condition?" Remus asked, not being able to help staring past at all of the strange things at Hogwarts. There, on the left bannister, was a painting with people that moved. A nearly headless ghost floated past them, and down a narrow corridor, Remus could barely make out a rough-looking cat that stared back at him. He shuddered. Even if he weren't naturally inclined to dislike cats - due to his, condition - there was still something about them that made his bones chatter.
Dumbledore raised a bushy eyebrow, and quickly looked back at him just when they had reached a landing with a weird sort of statue. "No need to hide anymore, Remus," Dumbledore said. "Let's call your condition for what it is: you are a werewolf."
Remus paled when he said it. Werewolf. Even hearing it still made his skin itch and his breathing to quicken. But Dumbledore didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, he was still smiling as he said, "Whittle Snitch," under his breathe, opening up a passageway that seemed to lead to his office.
"And I think I have thought of a solution for when you turn, Remus," Dumbledore continued, seeming to have not noticed Remus's growing discomfort with the subject. "There is a place I think you can go where no one will bother you. And you cannot hurt anyone else."
Remus shuddered. He remembered when he was eight, barely three years after he had been infected, his parents had tried to lock him in a room far away from the town, so he needn't be tied down, but he would be safe from hurting anyone. Two hours into the night, Remus had grown so restless that he had clawed at his own face, unable to stop himself past his beast blood. Remus brought a ginger hand to the scars on his face, and snapped it down when Dumbledore seemed to be inspecting him over his thin spectacles. "What is it?" Remus asked.
Dumbledore took a seat beside a fiery red bird that lovingly clipped at his fingers with its golden beak. Dumbledore stroked it once, then said, "It is an old, abandoned shack on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. And I think it will do very well as a place for you to retreat during the full moons." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but Remus couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that had flushed across him. He trusted Dumbledore, but how could he go through a night of changing all alone?
What would he do if someone had accidentally wandered into the shack? Who would help him?
He offered a meager smile up at Dumbledore, but before he could leave his office, he heard the headmaster say, "Remus." He turned around. "Do not be ashamed of yourself for your lycanthropy. All of us have something we wish to keep secret. I, for instance, take bubble baths every Saturday. Imagine the embarrassment it would cause me if the professors were to find out!" He chuckled, and something in Remus had already felt better. In a more serious tone, Dumbledore said, "Do not worry, Remus. You will find friends in Hogwarts. In fact, I suspect you will find very good friends indeed." He looked off to the side for a moment, and Remus followed Dumbledore's gaze to a silvery fountain-looking object that swirled majestically. Dumbledore suddenly looked back up to him and said, "Enjoy yourself, Remus."
Remus thanked the headmaster for his help, and stumbled out of his office, looking around for the Gryffindor common room entrance. Then he realized he had no idea where it was, and the prefects had already led the other first-years away. Looking around at the shifting staircases and windy corridors, Remus felt his stomach drop - he was never going to find the common room!
Just when he was about to utter Whittle Snitch to the statue leading to Dumbledore's office, he heard a commotion coming from down one of the corridors, and jogged off to see what it was all about. He saw James and Sirius and the beady-eyed boy, Peter, and sighed a breath of relief. He was about to wave them over when he saw who they had cornered. It was the greasy-haired, quiet-looking boy that was sitting alone at the far end of the Slytherin table during the sorting ceremony.
"And just where do you think you're going, Severus?" snarled James, his wand out and resting steadily in his palm as if he were a fifth year prefect.
The black haired boy - apparently, Severus - kept his head down, though the look in his eyes was dangerous.
"What's going on?" said Remus as he jogged toward them, weary of Severus, who he eyed with suspicion.
"He was with those nasty Slytherins who were accusing me of being a pureblood elitist back in the main hall!" shouted Sirius, pulling his wand out, too.
Peter just nodded feverishly by their side.
"No, he wasn't," protested Remus, glancing quickly back at Severus, who had raised his head only slightly. "He was sitting by himself at the other end of the table."
James pursed his lips, then looked back toward Remus, lowering his wand. "Well, alright then. If that's what you say, Remus." He shrugged and clapped Peter on the back, leading him away.
It took Sirius a moment longer to lower his wand, but he did, eventually, and followed James and Remus and Peter away from Severus. Remus only looked back to find Severus walking quickly away from them, his long black hair bouncing behind him.
"Severus Snape," muttered Sirius under his breath. "Now it's people like him who turn out to be Death-eaters and bullies. You better watch out for that one, Remus," he said, "I think he's dangerous."
They walked together all the way up to the Gryffindor painting, which was a fat lady sitting assuredly on a throne-like chair. "Password?" she said, stifling a yawn.
James said Jelly Slug and the four of them passed into the warm Gryffindor common room as if they were already the best of friends.