Disclaimer and Notes: Okay, here's my little spiel. I'm trying to write
this story simply because I want to. I'm not sure it's particularly
meaningful, but I just wanted to write it, so I did. I'm hoping I'll
actually finish it (that'll be like, a first) because it should be fairly
short. I think. I hope.
As for the disclaimer, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in here except Jessica Philbin and Alyssa Mant. Whee. I am NOT going to repeat this disclaimer before every chapter, so please read it now and get your fill.
Alright, here goes. I'm going against my better judgment putting this story up-I've never written anything quite like it, and certainly haven't publicized anything similar. It's very disconcerting knowing that strangers (and worse, friends!) will be reading this, so please be nice! I don't mind flames, but don't purposefully put me down just to make me feel bad. It's not cool.
Enough of that, I suppose on with the story.
Tears of Blood
Chapter One
Dreams
A high-pitched squeal woke the wolf from his slumber. He looked up quickly, sniffing the air, but he didn't need to resort to his nose to sense what had emitted the noise: running toward him on his short, chubby legs was a small boy with a large grin on his face. The wolf felt a rumble rising in his chest; he growled ferociously and leaped to his feet, narrowing his baleful yellow eyes. The boy stopped short, his joy turning quickly to fear. The wolf smelled the fear and fed off it; he liked a good chase.
As if in answer to this thought, the boy took off running back the way he'd come. He'd gone barely two steps before the wolf was upon him, bowling him over. The beast crouched on the boy's back, holding him face-down on the forest floor. He tore savagely at the robes covering his neck and back, seeking the blood that pumped under all that cloth...
But he was interrupted by a yell from the edge of the clearing. He looked up, eyes mere slits, to see a second boy running at him, green sparks flying from the tip of his wand. It didn't take long for the wolf to realize that the sparks were harmless, as was the wand. He took the wood in his teeth and snapped it.
The boy stared at his broken wand, dumbfounded. With a snarl, the wolf jumped on him, knocking him onto his back. He screamed in pain and fear, but this only made the beast more savage. He sank his teeth into the boy's soft throat, feeling the blood pump into his waiting mouth. The screams grew in intensity, eventually fading into sobs. The wolf shook the boy forcefully and, tightening his grip on the boy's throat, ripped viciously upward.
The screams and sobs immediately abated, leaving a heavy silence in the clearing. The wolf had forgotten about the other boy; he was savoring the flavor of the life-blood from the corpse under his feet when a soft sound from behind him caught his attention and he turned quickly to see the other boy lying on his stomach on the forest floor. His sweat and fear reached the sensitive nose of the wolf, and the beast approached his prey with a vicious snarl.
To the wolf's disappointment, the boy did not stir as he prowled ever closer. His fear had frozen him; but no matter. The taste of young blood would be enough to make up for the monotony of the kill.
Wasting no more time on trying to scare the child, the wolf finally jumped on his prey. He ripped away the last shreds of robes on the boy's back, then took his shoulder roughly in his teeth. He felt something crack as he ripped through the skin, but the boy still did not move. Angered by this indifference, the wolf dug his teeth in deeper, grinding them against the bone. He was about to release the shoulder and go for the throat when he heard a noise in the brush.
Not even pausing to see who'd rustled the bushes, the wolf ran for the sanctity of the trees. He smelled humans, guns, and silver. Fear as he'd never known it gripped his mind and he ran, agile as a deer, through the forest and away from the clearing. As soon as he was a safe distance from danger, he howled in anger at the loss of his prey.
Remus woke with a start, cold sweat running down his back in rivers. Eyes wide, he looked around the dorm room; his roommates were sleeping peacefully, unaware of the terror he'd just seen... The terror he'd just created.
The fifth-year settled back into his sweat-soaked sheets and tried to put the dream out of his mind. That was the last thing he needed to remember... He'd never get any sleep if those thoughts were in his head...
Remus realized eventually that he'd been wrong in thinking he'd been the only one awake. His sensitive ears recognized an absence of sound: James' snores. Surprised that he hadn't noticed the unusual silence earlier, Remus sat up again and looked across the room toward his friend's bed.
"James?" he whispered.
"Yeah?" came a hushed answer. His suspicions confirmed, Remus swiveled so that he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his bare toes digging into the carpet. James was lying on his side, facing his friend.
"Did I wake you up?" Remus asked hesitantly, watching his toes instead of his friend. He almost always cried out in his sleep in the nights immediately preceding and following the full moon, though his roommates had gotten used to him by now and often slept through his fitful dreams.
"You were howling," James replied slowly, not sure how his friend would take the news. "Was it another dream?" Remus nodded, though he wasn't sure whether James could see him or not in the light of the November moon.
"I was the wolf again," Remus explained unnecessarily.
"Were we in it?" James asked lightly, knowing Remus liked talking about his memories of nights with the Marauders. Remus gave a kind of laugh.
"Not that wolf," he corrected. "I was-" He swallowed nervously, searching for the words. "I was after me, if that makes any sense. It was the night of the attack." James hissed his breath out through his teeth. Remus had told him once, in second year, of how he'd been bitten by a werewolf, how he'd watched his brother's life beat itself out as his throat left his body...
"You were-you were the wolf in that dream?" James asked, almost to himself. "But how do you know what he was actually thinking?" Remus shrugged.
"I'm not sure I do now, either. It could have been just any old dream; maybe I made up all the thoughts and feelings."
"Feelings? I didn't know wolves had feelings, exactly," James said without thinking. Suddenly realizing what he'd said, he tried to apologize, but Remus cut him off.
"It's fine, don't worry about it. You're right. I don't have emotions in wolf form-not all of them, anyway. I feel happy and angry, but wolves aren't capable of the complicated emotions humans feel. It was more stuff like...bloodlust," Remus explained patiently. He used to get distressed talking about his dreams, but after four years of sharing them with James, he'd eventually realized that they were just that: dreams. He wasn't willing to give them the power to bother him anymore.
"Did you-go through the whole night?" James couldn't help it; he was curious. He knew Remus would tell him if he didn't want to talk.
"Pretty much. The whole event that the wolf saw, at any rate," Remus said with a shrug. "It was kind of strange, watching it all through someone else's eyes. I'm so used to remembering it with all the pain and grief; it was kind of a relief to see it with only the bloodlust." He gave a harsh laugh. "Though I could've done without tasting my brother's blood."
This comment, so light and nonchalant, caught James by surprise.
"You-you actually tasted it?" he whispered. Remus nodded.
"Oh, yeah, and mine too. Kind of metallic, not as salty as when you bite your tongue." He paused, and for a moment his true anguish showed through the almost cheerful face. Then the mask was back, and he continued. "The wolf thought it was good, of course." He laughed again, that harsh noise that was devoid of all humor. "I almost feel like a vampire now."
James laughed too, but he found nothing humorous about the comment. He hadn't really heard it at all; he was too busy thinking about the raw emotion he'd seen behind Remus' carefree mask. He hadn't known the dreams still bothered his friend, although he couldn't blame him: he'd have been horribly distressed to taste his own brother's blood. But over the past four years, Remus had slowly come to accept the dreams-or so it seemed. James had never realized that perhaps Moony was hiding his emotions to make things easier on his friends.
"Ah, well, that's life," Remus said with a small sigh. He leaned back onto his sweat-soaked pillow and stretched out his arms and legs. James didn't move, just watched his friend as he stared blankly at the ceiling above. After an eternity, Remus turned his back to the room and fell asleep.
James stayed awake for at least an hour after Remus had dropped off, pondering what he'd just heard and seen, analyzing Remus' voice and face as he'd told about the dream. Suddenly, so many things were obvious to James that hadn't been before: his toes digging nervously into the carpet, his eyes focusing on everything but James, his easy tone and nonchalant words, his mirthless laughs. Why hadn't he noticed before? Remus hadn't accepted the dreams; he'd simply tucked them away where they wouldn't trouble the other Marauders.
Sighing and turning over, James managed to push the thoughts to the back of his mind and fall into a light sleep.
The Marauders arrived late at breakfast the next morning due to James and Remus being so tired. Sirius knew they'd been talking; he'd been awake for the whole conversation and had heard James moving around in bed for a long time afterward. Peter was, as usual, oblivious to the whole ordeal.
When the four fifth-years arrived in the Great Hall, the rest of the school was settling down into their seats. The owl post had already come and gone, and a large barn owl was perched on an empty pumpkin juice pitcher, waiting for James with the Daily Prophet clutched in his beak. James quickly paid the owl and opened his newspaper. He skimmed the front page but found nothing interesting. He was about to open the paper and check out the inner articles, but a clinking noise caught his attention. The whole school looked up at the staff table to see Professor Dumbledore standing at his seat, tapping a glass with his fork.
"Good morning, students," he said cheerfully. Remus thought grumpily that no one should be that jovial in the morning. "I see you are all ready to start your breakfasts, and are wondering why they haven't yet appeared." Sirius nodded meaningfully. James hadn't even noticed the absence of food, he'd been so focused on the paper, but Sirius was rarely too busy to think about food-especially if he was hungry.
"I've kept you in suspense to make a short announcement," the professor said in his clear voice. "Today we have been joined by a new student, Jessica Philbin." He gestured toward a pretty brunette at one end of the Gryffindor table. "She arrived from America last night and was Sorted immediately. I would like everyone to make her feel very welcome here at our wonderful school." The student body gave her a round of uncertain applause and a few Gryffindors waved at her. She beamed around at everyone, a bit pink in the face.
"That's long enough without food, I suppose," the headmaster said when the applause had died down. "Have a wonderful breakfast!" He waved his hand and the food appeared on the serving platters. Sirius immediately began grabbing toast and jam and shoveling the food into his mouth. Peter followed suit, albeit with slightly better manners, and James folded the newspaper enough to grab a piece of toast himself. Lily, sitting next to her boyfriend of two years, nudged Remus as she reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
"I've never seen you sit this long in front of an empty plate," she teased. Remus glanced at her and seemed to snap out of a reverie.
"Oh, right," he mumbled, taking random bits of food. Lily glared at him when he took a piece of sausage with his bare hands.
"C'mon now, even you have better manners than that," she scolded, handing him the serving fork. He shrugged and placed the greasy link on his plate.
"I'm the only one eating it," he muttered. Lily clicked her tongue but didn't push the matter further. Remus was always a bit cranky or odd around the full moon.
Sirius finished three pieces of toast and two sausage links and gave a loud belch before washing it all down with a glass of pumpkin juice. Lily looked daggers at him, but he flashed her a winning grin and reached for a third sausage-using the fork, under the red-head's scrutinizing gaze. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I don't see you scolding him," he said, pretending to be offended as he gestured toward James, who was still reading his paper as he ate a piece of toast. A glob of jam slid off the toast and splattered on the tablecloth. Lily gave him disgusted look and cleared her throat.
"Huh?" James looked up at the noise while another glob of jam crept toward the edge of his toast. Lily pointed at the precariously perched blob significantly. James shrugged and licked the jam off his toast without a second thought.
"See? No problem," he said, smacking his lips. Lily hid a smile by scrunching up her nose in disgust. Peter giggled half-heartedly and went back to his breakfast. James looked up, indignant. "What are you laughing at, Wormtail?" But before Peter could answer, James noticed Remus, who was sitting next to the shorter boy. "Moony, have you eaten anything at all?" James asked suddenly. Remus glanced up in surprise.
"Oh-no, I guess not," he said, glancing at his sausage before staring back along the Gryffindor table. James and Sirius exchanged glances and followed Remus' gaze. Sirius grinned widely upon seeing the object of Remus' interest.
"I think our friend has a little crush on the new girl!" he teased, putting his arm around Remus' shoulders. Remus stared at him in surprise.
"What? Oh-no!" He frowned at his friend. "Sirius! Why do you always assume everyone is constantly thinking about girls? Just because you are..."
"Don't be shy, Moony," Sirius said with a wink. "You can tell us, we're your best buddies!" Remus gave him a withering look and pushed his arm away. Giving one last glance up the table, he turned to the food before him and began to eat. Sirius, disappointed at the lack of reaction from his friend, looked at James in surprise.
"What's up with him?" he mouthed across the table. James shrugged and turned back to his paper. He pointed something out to Lily as he took another bite of toast.
"Please take out note-taking materials and focus your attention on the blackboard," Professor McGonagall said sternly as the bell rang signaling the start of Transfiguration. Sirius took out a roll of parchment and a quill and turned to James, who was dipping his own quill into ink and preparing to take notes.
"What d'you think is up with Moony?" Sirius asked in a low voice. The subject in question was currently staring straight ahead, for all the world as if he were paying attention, but his quill lay untouched on his desk and his parchment was rolled up on his lap. Before James could answer, though, the professor turned around and crossed her arms in front of her.
"Mr. Black," she said loudly, "it might be difficult to take notes with a dry quill." A few students laughed quietly. Sirius grinned widely and dipped his quill into James' ink well.
"Precisely why I was asking my good buddy here if I could borrow some ink," he said seriously. McGonagall gave him a stern look and turned back to the board.
"At any rate-what's up with him today?" Sirius continued as if there had been no interruption. James shrugged and glanced at Remus, who was sitting across the aisle from Sirius.
"Looks like he's taking notes-why don't you try that?" James said a bit irritably. He didn't get transfiguration as easily as Sirius did, and they were studying a particularly difficult subject today. He wished that just this once his friend would pay attention and let him do the same.
"But he's not-he's just sitting there, staring." James shrugged again and bent over his parchment to write something down. Sirius made an exasperated noise and glanced back at Remus, who was twirling his dry quill between two fingers and shredding his parchment with the other. Sirius followed his gaze and noticed with a start that he was staring at the new girl again. What was her name again? Jennifer? A smile played around the fifth-year's lips; Remus rarely developed crushes on his fellow classmates, or at least tended to keep them very secret. He'd never been so obvious before, even with his most recent 'love interest,' Alyssa Mant. Come to think of it, hadn't he just been talking about her the other day? He sure moved on quickly...
But as Sirius watched his friend, he began to wonder if he'd guessed wrongly. Remus was watching the new girl in the front row, that much was obvious; but there was nothing amorous about his gaze. His face was set, his lips drawn into a thin line. The emotion that burned in his gray eyes was almost...
Hate?
But Remus Lupin never hated anyone. Everyone knew that. No matter what, he kept his cool; he'd only lost his temper with Sirius a few times, and that in itself was quite a feat. Heck, he didn't even hate Severus Snape- he was almost civil to him most of the time. But there was something decidedly vicious about the way Remus was staring at this girl, and it was beginning to scare Sirius.
"Mr. Black, I don't understand how you can see this diagram if you're staring at Ms. Philbin," McGonagall chided, leaning forward on her desk. Sirius, for once taken by surprise, snapped his head forward. He regained his composure quickly.
"But I was so intrigued by her-she hasn't really been introduced to the class, and I was just thinking how unwelcome she must feel." He shot the professor an innocent smile and unobtrusively curled the parchment so McGonagall wouldn't be able to see that it was completely blank. The new girl's ears were turning pink; she turned around and shot Sirius a glare to rival Lily's.
"Ms. Philbin was introduced this morning before breakfast," the professor said sternly as she turned back to the board. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sirius cut her off.
"But that was a schoolwide introduction. We as a class will get to know her better than the rest of the school, and therefore we should get a special introduction." Sirius' grin didn't falter, even when James elbowed him in the side and glared at him.
McGonagall turned and stared at him for a moment, then continued her lesson as though there had been no interruption. Highly amused by this new tactic, Sirius opened his mouth to speak again. He was stopped by a wad of parchment that James had quickly shoved into his open mouth.
Shooting James a glare and removing the paper from his mouth, Sirius leaned back in his chair and decided to let it go. He spent the rest of the class period glancing from Remus to the new girl to the board, then back to Remus again. Moony never shifted his gaze and never stopped twirling his quill.
As for the disclaimer, I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters in here except Jessica Philbin and Alyssa Mant. Whee. I am NOT going to repeat this disclaimer before every chapter, so please read it now and get your fill.
Alright, here goes. I'm going against my better judgment putting this story up-I've never written anything quite like it, and certainly haven't publicized anything similar. It's very disconcerting knowing that strangers (and worse, friends!) will be reading this, so please be nice! I don't mind flames, but don't purposefully put me down just to make me feel bad. It's not cool.
Enough of that, I suppose on with the story.
Tears of Blood
Chapter One
Dreams
A high-pitched squeal woke the wolf from his slumber. He looked up quickly, sniffing the air, but he didn't need to resort to his nose to sense what had emitted the noise: running toward him on his short, chubby legs was a small boy with a large grin on his face. The wolf felt a rumble rising in his chest; he growled ferociously and leaped to his feet, narrowing his baleful yellow eyes. The boy stopped short, his joy turning quickly to fear. The wolf smelled the fear and fed off it; he liked a good chase.
As if in answer to this thought, the boy took off running back the way he'd come. He'd gone barely two steps before the wolf was upon him, bowling him over. The beast crouched on the boy's back, holding him face-down on the forest floor. He tore savagely at the robes covering his neck and back, seeking the blood that pumped under all that cloth...
But he was interrupted by a yell from the edge of the clearing. He looked up, eyes mere slits, to see a second boy running at him, green sparks flying from the tip of his wand. It didn't take long for the wolf to realize that the sparks were harmless, as was the wand. He took the wood in his teeth and snapped it.
The boy stared at his broken wand, dumbfounded. With a snarl, the wolf jumped on him, knocking him onto his back. He screamed in pain and fear, but this only made the beast more savage. He sank his teeth into the boy's soft throat, feeling the blood pump into his waiting mouth. The screams grew in intensity, eventually fading into sobs. The wolf shook the boy forcefully and, tightening his grip on the boy's throat, ripped viciously upward.
The screams and sobs immediately abated, leaving a heavy silence in the clearing. The wolf had forgotten about the other boy; he was savoring the flavor of the life-blood from the corpse under his feet when a soft sound from behind him caught his attention and he turned quickly to see the other boy lying on his stomach on the forest floor. His sweat and fear reached the sensitive nose of the wolf, and the beast approached his prey with a vicious snarl.
To the wolf's disappointment, the boy did not stir as he prowled ever closer. His fear had frozen him; but no matter. The taste of young blood would be enough to make up for the monotony of the kill.
Wasting no more time on trying to scare the child, the wolf finally jumped on his prey. He ripped away the last shreds of robes on the boy's back, then took his shoulder roughly in his teeth. He felt something crack as he ripped through the skin, but the boy still did not move. Angered by this indifference, the wolf dug his teeth in deeper, grinding them against the bone. He was about to release the shoulder and go for the throat when he heard a noise in the brush.
Not even pausing to see who'd rustled the bushes, the wolf ran for the sanctity of the trees. He smelled humans, guns, and silver. Fear as he'd never known it gripped his mind and he ran, agile as a deer, through the forest and away from the clearing. As soon as he was a safe distance from danger, he howled in anger at the loss of his prey.
Remus woke with a start, cold sweat running down his back in rivers. Eyes wide, he looked around the dorm room; his roommates were sleeping peacefully, unaware of the terror he'd just seen... The terror he'd just created.
The fifth-year settled back into his sweat-soaked sheets and tried to put the dream out of his mind. That was the last thing he needed to remember... He'd never get any sleep if those thoughts were in his head...
Remus realized eventually that he'd been wrong in thinking he'd been the only one awake. His sensitive ears recognized an absence of sound: James' snores. Surprised that he hadn't noticed the unusual silence earlier, Remus sat up again and looked across the room toward his friend's bed.
"James?" he whispered.
"Yeah?" came a hushed answer. His suspicions confirmed, Remus swiveled so that he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his bare toes digging into the carpet. James was lying on his side, facing his friend.
"Did I wake you up?" Remus asked hesitantly, watching his toes instead of his friend. He almost always cried out in his sleep in the nights immediately preceding and following the full moon, though his roommates had gotten used to him by now and often slept through his fitful dreams.
"You were howling," James replied slowly, not sure how his friend would take the news. "Was it another dream?" Remus nodded, though he wasn't sure whether James could see him or not in the light of the November moon.
"I was the wolf again," Remus explained unnecessarily.
"Were we in it?" James asked lightly, knowing Remus liked talking about his memories of nights with the Marauders. Remus gave a kind of laugh.
"Not that wolf," he corrected. "I was-" He swallowed nervously, searching for the words. "I was after me, if that makes any sense. It was the night of the attack." James hissed his breath out through his teeth. Remus had told him once, in second year, of how he'd been bitten by a werewolf, how he'd watched his brother's life beat itself out as his throat left his body...
"You were-you were the wolf in that dream?" James asked, almost to himself. "But how do you know what he was actually thinking?" Remus shrugged.
"I'm not sure I do now, either. It could have been just any old dream; maybe I made up all the thoughts and feelings."
"Feelings? I didn't know wolves had feelings, exactly," James said without thinking. Suddenly realizing what he'd said, he tried to apologize, but Remus cut him off.
"It's fine, don't worry about it. You're right. I don't have emotions in wolf form-not all of them, anyway. I feel happy and angry, but wolves aren't capable of the complicated emotions humans feel. It was more stuff like...bloodlust," Remus explained patiently. He used to get distressed talking about his dreams, but after four years of sharing them with James, he'd eventually realized that they were just that: dreams. He wasn't willing to give them the power to bother him anymore.
"Did you-go through the whole night?" James couldn't help it; he was curious. He knew Remus would tell him if he didn't want to talk.
"Pretty much. The whole event that the wolf saw, at any rate," Remus said with a shrug. "It was kind of strange, watching it all through someone else's eyes. I'm so used to remembering it with all the pain and grief; it was kind of a relief to see it with only the bloodlust." He gave a harsh laugh. "Though I could've done without tasting my brother's blood."
This comment, so light and nonchalant, caught James by surprise.
"You-you actually tasted it?" he whispered. Remus nodded.
"Oh, yeah, and mine too. Kind of metallic, not as salty as when you bite your tongue." He paused, and for a moment his true anguish showed through the almost cheerful face. Then the mask was back, and he continued. "The wolf thought it was good, of course." He laughed again, that harsh noise that was devoid of all humor. "I almost feel like a vampire now."
James laughed too, but he found nothing humorous about the comment. He hadn't really heard it at all; he was too busy thinking about the raw emotion he'd seen behind Remus' carefree mask. He hadn't known the dreams still bothered his friend, although he couldn't blame him: he'd have been horribly distressed to taste his own brother's blood. But over the past four years, Remus had slowly come to accept the dreams-or so it seemed. James had never realized that perhaps Moony was hiding his emotions to make things easier on his friends.
"Ah, well, that's life," Remus said with a small sigh. He leaned back onto his sweat-soaked pillow and stretched out his arms and legs. James didn't move, just watched his friend as he stared blankly at the ceiling above. After an eternity, Remus turned his back to the room and fell asleep.
James stayed awake for at least an hour after Remus had dropped off, pondering what he'd just heard and seen, analyzing Remus' voice and face as he'd told about the dream. Suddenly, so many things were obvious to James that hadn't been before: his toes digging nervously into the carpet, his eyes focusing on everything but James, his easy tone and nonchalant words, his mirthless laughs. Why hadn't he noticed before? Remus hadn't accepted the dreams; he'd simply tucked them away where they wouldn't trouble the other Marauders.
Sighing and turning over, James managed to push the thoughts to the back of his mind and fall into a light sleep.
The Marauders arrived late at breakfast the next morning due to James and Remus being so tired. Sirius knew they'd been talking; he'd been awake for the whole conversation and had heard James moving around in bed for a long time afterward. Peter was, as usual, oblivious to the whole ordeal.
When the four fifth-years arrived in the Great Hall, the rest of the school was settling down into their seats. The owl post had already come and gone, and a large barn owl was perched on an empty pumpkin juice pitcher, waiting for James with the Daily Prophet clutched in his beak. James quickly paid the owl and opened his newspaper. He skimmed the front page but found nothing interesting. He was about to open the paper and check out the inner articles, but a clinking noise caught his attention. The whole school looked up at the staff table to see Professor Dumbledore standing at his seat, tapping a glass with his fork.
"Good morning, students," he said cheerfully. Remus thought grumpily that no one should be that jovial in the morning. "I see you are all ready to start your breakfasts, and are wondering why they haven't yet appeared." Sirius nodded meaningfully. James hadn't even noticed the absence of food, he'd been so focused on the paper, but Sirius was rarely too busy to think about food-especially if he was hungry.
"I've kept you in suspense to make a short announcement," the professor said in his clear voice. "Today we have been joined by a new student, Jessica Philbin." He gestured toward a pretty brunette at one end of the Gryffindor table. "She arrived from America last night and was Sorted immediately. I would like everyone to make her feel very welcome here at our wonderful school." The student body gave her a round of uncertain applause and a few Gryffindors waved at her. She beamed around at everyone, a bit pink in the face.
"That's long enough without food, I suppose," the headmaster said when the applause had died down. "Have a wonderful breakfast!" He waved his hand and the food appeared on the serving platters. Sirius immediately began grabbing toast and jam and shoveling the food into his mouth. Peter followed suit, albeit with slightly better manners, and James folded the newspaper enough to grab a piece of toast himself. Lily, sitting next to her boyfriend of two years, nudged Remus as she reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
"I've never seen you sit this long in front of an empty plate," she teased. Remus glanced at her and seemed to snap out of a reverie.
"Oh, right," he mumbled, taking random bits of food. Lily glared at him when he took a piece of sausage with his bare hands.
"C'mon now, even you have better manners than that," she scolded, handing him the serving fork. He shrugged and placed the greasy link on his plate.
"I'm the only one eating it," he muttered. Lily clicked her tongue but didn't push the matter further. Remus was always a bit cranky or odd around the full moon.
Sirius finished three pieces of toast and two sausage links and gave a loud belch before washing it all down with a glass of pumpkin juice. Lily looked daggers at him, but he flashed her a winning grin and reached for a third sausage-using the fork, under the red-head's scrutinizing gaze. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I don't see you scolding him," he said, pretending to be offended as he gestured toward James, who was still reading his paper as he ate a piece of toast. A glob of jam slid off the toast and splattered on the tablecloth. Lily gave him disgusted look and cleared her throat.
"Huh?" James looked up at the noise while another glob of jam crept toward the edge of his toast. Lily pointed at the precariously perched blob significantly. James shrugged and licked the jam off his toast without a second thought.
"See? No problem," he said, smacking his lips. Lily hid a smile by scrunching up her nose in disgust. Peter giggled half-heartedly and went back to his breakfast. James looked up, indignant. "What are you laughing at, Wormtail?" But before Peter could answer, James noticed Remus, who was sitting next to the shorter boy. "Moony, have you eaten anything at all?" James asked suddenly. Remus glanced up in surprise.
"Oh-no, I guess not," he said, glancing at his sausage before staring back along the Gryffindor table. James and Sirius exchanged glances and followed Remus' gaze. Sirius grinned widely upon seeing the object of Remus' interest.
"I think our friend has a little crush on the new girl!" he teased, putting his arm around Remus' shoulders. Remus stared at him in surprise.
"What? Oh-no!" He frowned at his friend. "Sirius! Why do you always assume everyone is constantly thinking about girls? Just because you are..."
"Don't be shy, Moony," Sirius said with a wink. "You can tell us, we're your best buddies!" Remus gave him a withering look and pushed his arm away. Giving one last glance up the table, he turned to the food before him and began to eat. Sirius, disappointed at the lack of reaction from his friend, looked at James in surprise.
"What's up with him?" he mouthed across the table. James shrugged and turned back to his paper. He pointed something out to Lily as he took another bite of toast.
"Please take out note-taking materials and focus your attention on the blackboard," Professor McGonagall said sternly as the bell rang signaling the start of Transfiguration. Sirius took out a roll of parchment and a quill and turned to James, who was dipping his own quill into ink and preparing to take notes.
"What d'you think is up with Moony?" Sirius asked in a low voice. The subject in question was currently staring straight ahead, for all the world as if he were paying attention, but his quill lay untouched on his desk and his parchment was rolled up on his lap. Before James could answer, though, the professor turned around and crossed her arms in front of her.
"Mr. Black," she said loudly, "it might be difficult to take notes with a dry quill." A few students laughed quietly. Sirius grinned widely and dipped his quill into James' ink well.
"Precisely why I was asking my good buddy here if I could borrow some ink," he said seriously. McGonagall gave him a stern look and turned back to the board.
"At any rate-what's up with him today?" Sirius continued as if there had been no interruption. James shrugged and glanced at Remus, who was sitting across the aisle from Sirius.
"Looks like he's taking notes-why don't you try that?" James said a bit irritably. He didn't get transfiguration as easily as Sirius did, and they were studying a particularly difficult subject today. He wished that just this once his friend would pay attention and let him do the same.
"But he's not-he's just sitting there, staring." James shrugged again and bent over his parchment to write something down. Sirius made an exasperated noise and glanced back at Remus, who was twirling his dry quill between two fingers and shredding his parchment with the other. Sirius followed his gaze and noticed with a start that he was staring at the new girl again. What was her name again? Jennifer? A smile played around the fifth-year's lips; Remus rarely developed crushes on his fellow classmates, or at least tended to keep them very secret. He'd never been so obvious before, even with his most recent 'love interest,' Alyssa Mant. Come to think of it, hadn't he just been talking about her the other day? He sure moved on quickly...
But as Sirius watched his friend, he began to wonder if he'd guessed wrongly. Remus was watching the new girl in the front row, that much was obvious; but there was nothing amorous about his gaze. His face was set, his lips drawn into a thin line. The emotion that burned in his gray eyes was almost...
Hate?
But Remus Lupin never hated anyone. Everyone knew that. No matter what, he kept his cool; he'd only lost his temper with Sirius a few times, and that in itself was quite a feat. Heck, he didn't even hate Severus Snape- he was almost civil to him most of the time. But there was something decidedly vicious about the way Remus was staring at this girl, and it was beginning to scare Sirius.
"Mr. Black, I don't understand how you can see this diagram if you're staring at Ms. Philbin," McGonagall chided, leaning forward on her desk. Sirius, for once taken by surprise, snapped his head forward. He regained his composure quickly.
"But I was so intrigued by her-she hasn't really been introduced to the class, and I was just thinking how unwelcome she must feel." He shot the professor an innocent smile and unobtrusively curled the parchment so McGonagall wouldn't be able to see that it was completely blank. The new girl's ears were turning pink; she turned around and shot Sirius a glare to rival Lily's.
"Ms. Philbin was introduced this morning before breakfast," the professor said sternly as she turned back to the board. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sirius cut her off.
"But that was a schoolwide introduction. We as a class will get to know her better than the rest of the school, and therefore we should get a special introduction." Sirius' grin didn't falter, even when James elbowed him in the side and glared at him.
McGonagall turned and stared at him for a moment, then continued her lesson as though there had been no interruption. Highly amused by this new tactic, Sirius opened his mouth to speak again. He was stopped by a wad of parchment that James had quickly shoved into his open mouth.
Shooting James a glare and removing the paper from his mouth, Sirius leaned back in his chair and decided to let it go. He spent the rest of the class period glancing from Remus to the new girl to the board, then back to Remus again. Moony never shifted his gaze and never stopped twirling his quill.
