A/N: This is intended to be a companion collection to my on-going "James Potter" series, which tells the story of the Marauders' years at Hogwarts. This collection will tell Remus' side of the story. This installment can more or less stand alone, but you should know that it fits into a larger story, and some later chapters will make no sense if you aren't reading the "James Potter" series.
But for now, I am proud to present the first installment of Moony's Story, a rather long oneshot focusing on the first full moon of Remus Lupin's Hogwarts career. Coincides with James Potter and the Immortal Icon, chapters 6-8.
September 1971
Gryffindor
"Hmm… well, isn't this interesting?"
"What is?"
"You, Remus Lupin. This is the first time I've ever Sorted a…"
"A monster."
"A werewolf."
"Same thing."
"Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not. Not my place to say, surely. Now, to the task at hand. You've got a fine mind – a very fine mind, indeed."
"Don't put me in Ravenclaw."
"No?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I... I knew a Ravenclaw once, and I don't want to be like him. How about Hufflepuff? I'd like that."
"No, not Hufflepuff, not quite. And you're right – Ravenclaw's not for you either, I think. You've got a fine heart and a fine mind, to be sure, but it's your spirit that really sets you apart. How many young witches and wizards do you suppose have been bitten before their eleventh birthday? And not a one of them has made it to where you are now."
"That's because Dumbledore—"
"—did what many Heads before him have done: open Hogwarts to all with magical talent, regardless of name or status or condition. You are not the first werewolf to be extended an offer to study within these old walls, merely the first to accept. It takes courage to defy the prejudice and injustice stacked against those like you."
"I'm not so brave as you think."
"We'll see, young werewolf. We'll see. If you've no more complaints, then I think it's got to be… GRYFFINDOR!"
-.-.-
Courage. Chivalry. Daring. The traits of the quintessential Gryffindor. Traits that Remus Lupin, werewolf, did not possess in the slightest.
Daring: the bravado of a young boy doing something idiotic, heedless of the consequences. Plain to see in people like James Potter and Sirius Black, who on the first day of classes had made enemies with the entire house of Slytherin for no reason whatsoever. But Remus? The last bit of daring-do Remus had perpetrated had left him mauled by a werewolf and marked as an outcast for the rest of his natural life.
Chivalry: respectful conduct toward a lady or, more generally, honesty and noble sacrifice befitting a knight who lived for a glorious death. If there was ever an eleven-year-old boy capable of poise and consideration when dealing with the opposite sex, Remus was certainly not it. He could hardly look most girls in the eye and ran the other way when any tried to corner him. And honesty? Now there was a laughable thought. Remus – the werewolf masquerading as a wizard, lying to an entire school about what he was – honest? Maybe in another lifetime.
Courage: fearlessness in the face of danger or opposition. Now, danger and opposition Remus had to spare. It came with the whole lycanthropy package. But fearlessness…?
A true Gryffindor would manage to sit through an entire lesson without thinking about the full moon looming ever-nearer. Someone with true courage wouldn't wish he were still at home, where everything was familiar and comforting and safe.
A true Gryffindor wouldn't be sitting in the Transfigurations classroom less than a week before the transformation, feigning distraction as his classmates filed out and hoping the professor would speak first so Remus didn't have to figure out how to voice his concerns. James Potter and Sirius Black were the last to leave, as McGonagall had ordered them to clean up the mess they had caused with scorched, half-transfigured matchsticks. As they went, they gave Remus suspicious looks, and Remus wished again to be home with his mother, away from prying eyes and boys who would no doubt turn on him in disgust if they ever discovered his secret.
Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, occupied with her grading, but she gave Remus a piercing stare over her spectacles, as though waiting for him to speak. Long minutes passed, and Remus' focus on his notes never wavered as he tried to gather his non-existent courage.
After a while, McGonagall stood, still regarding the boy thoughtfully, and said, "I must be going now, Mr. Lupin. If you have something to say to me, now would be the time."
When Remus did not reply, she banished the stack of parchment to a box on her shelf and strode from the room. Remus hesitated only a moment longer before chasing after her. Courage or no, he had to speak to her eventually.
McGonagall raised her eyebrow as Remus trotted up beside her.
"Professor," he said breathlessly, looking around to ensure they were alone. "I'm not sure if you realize, but the full moon will be soon."
"I am aware."
Remus hesitated. The pair continued walking. "And, well, Professor Dumbledore said he had something in place, something to make sure I wouldn't…"
"And so he has. You needn't worry about anything, Mr. Lupin."
"But…" Remus clenched his fists, a thousand thoughts running through his head. What did Remus have to do? Where did he go? Who could he talk to about it? Would Dumbledore's measures be enough? What if the wolf escaped and bit someone? The transformation seemed so close at hand, and yet Remus knew nothing about what would happen that night. "But it's less than a week away!"
"I understand your concern, Mr. Lupin, but I assure you, the Headmaster has arranged everything."
Remus doubted very much whether Professor McGonagall understood his concern, but he didn't say anything. "I know," he said instead as they rounded a corner. "I just—"
Whatever he was going to say, it flew out of his head as he caught sight of two crumpled forms lying in the hallway before him. James Potter lay stiff as a board on the stone floor, and Sirius Black sat hunched against the wall a few feet away, clutching his stomach.
"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall cried, hastening forward. "Mr. Black!"
Remus began to tremble, unable to tear his eyes away from his classmates as he staggered forward. "Professor McGonagall… What's happened to them?"
She knelt to check on James, and relaxed almost at once. "He's been hit by Full Body-Bind Curse. Simple enough to remedy. Rennervate." At once, James' body lost its rigid set, and he sat up, shaking his head. "Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"
James nodded and turned toward Sirius, who staggered upright. Taking this as an affirmative, McGonagall stood and hurried toward the boy, whose face was twisted in pain. She grabbed his arm to support him and murmured, "Finite." Sirius sighed and relaxed, and Professor McGonagall released his arm. "Who did this to you?"
"Nobody," Sirius said gruffly.
"Well you certainly didn't do this to yourselves."
Sirius crossed his arms stubbornly and pouted. "Says who?"
Professor McGonagall did not look amused. "These spells are far beyond your current abilities," she said simply. "Besides which, Mr. Potter doesn't even have his wand out, and yours, Mr. Black – Accio – is lying much too far away to be of any use to you." She caught Sirius' wand easily, her eyes never leaving Sirius' face.
"Maybe it was accidental magic."
"Remarkably focused for accidental magic, don't you think?" McGonagall handed over his wand, and Sirius pocketed it, looking annoyed.
James stared at Sirius, an unreadable expression on his face. "Can we go?"
"I really wish you would tell me what happened." McGonagall waited, but neither boy spoke. "Very well. But if you change your mind, you know where my office is. Go get some rest, Mr. Black. Nasty work, that Stinging Hex." She turned and gestured to Remus. "Come along, Mr. Lupin."
Remus followed obediently as Professor McGonagall strode down the hall, although he turned once to stare back toward James and Sirius, who watched them go. When they were alone again, McGonagall resumed their discussion as though nothing had happened.
"Everything is ready for next week. Someone will come fetch you when it is time. Until then, just carry on as normal, alright?"
With a sigh, Remus nodded and drifted away, not reassured in the slightest.
-.-.-
The rest of the week flew by far too quickly. Soon Monday arrived, the day of the full moon, and still no one had told Remus what the evening would bring. He woke feeling sluggish and sore, but forced himself down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and from there to Potions, which was a nightmare, as Remus found it hard to think straight and messed up even more than normal. Then it was Defense and lunch, by which time Remus was beginning to feel queasy. He picked at a slice of bread and ignored the hum of conversation around him, wishing the day would just end already.
Remus slept through History of Magic – the first time he'd ever done such a thing, and when he woke, he was horrified at what he had done. But he was weak and shaky, and Professor Binns was boring on a good day, and Remus quite simply hadn't been able to resist a nap.
He was looking forward to returning to his dormitory for a proper rest, but it was not to be; the first years were to start flying lessons that afternoon. Remus had no choice but to trudge down to the training grounds with his classmates and struggle through the next hour. The full moon's effects were making themselves known in earnest, however, and Remus had to focus hard to hear Madam Hooch's instructions. He felt faint and hot and nauseous, as though he had caught a bad bout of the flu, and the last thing he wanted to do was leave the ground.
But he had no choice. Cursing brooms and moons and professors, Remus suffered through three-quarters of an hour of bobbing around and trying not to be sick. The end was finally in sight when tragedy struck.
Gilderoy Lockhart, a Ravenclaw in Remus' year who was proving to be a bit of a showoff, came careening out of nowhere. Remus couldn't have avoided him if he tried; they collided, and Remus was knocked from his broom. He landed with a stab of pain and cradled his left arm to his chest. He'd broken enough bones to know at once what the pain meant, but he bit back a moan as the other students gathered around him.
Lily Evans, a bright girl who liked to study with Remus, came stumbling over, looking terrified. "Oh my god! Are you alright?"
Remus tried to force a smile for her. "Yeah… I think it's broken." He made to sit up, but Madam Hooch held him down.
"Lie still," she ordered. "You may have more than a simple broken arm, after a fall like that."
Deciding it was best not to argue, Remus fell back, noticing with some dismay the glares the other students were sending toward Gilderoy. Don't be mad, he wanted to say. I'd have fallen anyway. But he kept his mouth shut as Madam Hooch sent Gilderoy on some errand, lifted Remus onto a stretcher, and instructed the class to remain on the ground.
Eyes falling closed, Remus let himself be swept off toward the castle, up a flight of stairs, and into the Hospital Wing, where the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, came to fret over him. Madam Hooch was shooed out, and Madam Pomfrey set to work at once, mending his arm with a wave of her wand and checking him over for any other injuries, of which she found none.
Madam Hooch returned a few minutes later with Professor McGonagall, who gazed at Remus with a look of mild alarm.
"You're right, Rolanda," Professor McGonagall said to Madam Hooch. "He does look ill. Mr. Lupin, are you quite alright?"
Remus mumbled an affirmative, but none of the three women gathered around him looked convinced.
"Alright?" Madam Pomfrey tutted. "Alright? A spill like that and a touch of the flu besides? I should think he's a far cry from alright! How long have you been feeling out of sorts, dear?"
"Since this morning." Remus stared at his hands so that he wouldn't have to look at any of them. "I always get this way the day of."
He heard them suck in their breath as one, and a long beat of silence passed. Remus bowed his head lower still. Then Professor McGonagall spoke, her words hitting Remus like an accusation.
"Why on earth were you flying in your condition?"
"I…" Remus swallowed thickly, feeling more wretched than ever. He wanted to go home, to fall into his mother's arms and let her hold him and make him believe that everything would be okay. "I thought…" Why had he thought he could do this – could come to Hogwarts like a normal boy? He would never be normal, no matter how desperately he wished it. "You said to carry on like normal," he whispered miserably. "Someone would come get me."
It was another long while before anyone spoke, and Remus debated burying himself under the sheets of the bed he sat on, curling up and pretending this day had all been one long nightmare.
At length, Madam Hooch cleared her throat. "I should go. The other children are waiting for me, and it's clear Mr. Lupin is in no condition to return to the air today."
Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey made small sounds of agreement, and Madam Hooch left, the thud of the door behind her ushering in another swollen silence.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall said softly. "If I had known…" Remus cringed. Of course; he should have told her. He just hadn't thought of it. The misery of the full moon was such a constant in his life that he could hardly imagine anyone not knowing about it. McGonagall hastened on: "But of course it isn't your fault."
Relief bursting in his chest, Remus glanced up. "It isn't?"
"Not at all," Professor McGonagall assured him. "I'll admit my experience with lycanthropy is sorely limited. I didn't know…"
"Nor I," Madam Pomfrey said softly, stepping forward to make Remus lie down. "If I had, I would have taken you out of your classes."
"No!" Remus cried, jerking upright in alarm. "I can't miss class! I'll fall behind! I'll– I'll—" The other students would notice. They would start to whisper about him, and soon everyone would know his secret, and he would have to leave Hogwarts. And as much as spending the full moon among strangers scared him, he didn't want to be run out of the castle.
Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together and sighed. "Your commitment to your education is admirable, Mr. Lupin, but you must also consider your health."
"I'm fine!" he argued. "I won't fly before a full moon again, I swear, but I can still go to class! It isn't really bad until the evening, anyway!"
"It gets worse?" Madam Pomfrey said sharply, and Remus flinched.
"A little."
Professor McGonagall's stern composure wavered, and a bit of pity shone in her eyes. "There's no need to discuss this just now," she said gently. "Rest; I'll tell your classmates Madam Pomfrey wanted to keep you overnight after your mishap. Just rest."
She stared at Remus as though expecting him to argue further, but at the moment rest sounded splendid to him, so he merely nodded. Professor McGonagall exchanged a meaningful look with Madam Pomfrey, and then she left, and Madam Pomfrey coaxed Remus into a nap, promising to wake him before the transformation came.
-.-.-
The sun had not yet set when Madam Pomfrey roused him, but the shadows were long, the sky tinged with red. Remus sat up at once.
"Slowly," Madam Pomfrey instructed. "There's no rush; we've plenty of time. Professor Dumbledore will be here shortly."
Professor Dumbledore? Remus wondered. The Headmaster himself was coming to see him? Remus perched on the edge of his bed and swung his feet, trying not to fidget too much. His body had begun to shake like it always did in the hours before the transformation, and he wondered for the thousandth time where he would spend the night. The dungeons? One of the unused towers? Somewhere on the grounds?
At a knock on the door, both Remus and Madam Pomfrey jumped, and the nurse scuttled off to see who it was.
"Headmaster!" she breathed, and Remus tried to relax. For a moment, he'd thought one of his classmates had come to see him. But tall, silver-haired Dumbledore stepped into the room with a kind smile and crossed to Remus' bed.
"Good evening, Mr. Lupin," he said softly. "Or perhaps not so good. How are you feeling?"
Remus shrugged. Truthfully, he was feeling miserable, but he didn't want to sound petulant. Professor Dumbledore had already been kinder by far than Remus had any right to expect – he'd allowed Remus to come to Hogwarts, had sworn to keep his secret, had prepared appropriate defenses to ensure an uneventful transformation. What right did Remus have to complain of a few aches and an upset stomach?
"I'm fine."
Dumbledore's smile turned sad, and Remus got the feeling that the wizened old man with the twinkle in his eyes knew exactly what Remus was thinking. But surely that was just Remus' imagination.
In any case, Professor Dumbledore soon checked his watch and nodded. "It's time we head out. Ready, Mr. Lupin?"
Remus slid off the bed, pausing to gain his balance, and asked, "Where am I going, exactly?"
"We've prepared a house for you, just outside of Hogsmeade."
Having just gathered himself to cross the room, Remus stumbled at the Headmaster's words. A house? A whole house? And in Hogsmeade, the nearby town, full of people, full of so many people he could hurt if he got out. Could a house really hold a werewolf in check, he wondered?
Professor Dumbledore laughed softly. "No need to look so anxious, Mr. Lupin. It will be perfectly safe. But come. It will be easier to show you."
He led Remus out of the Hospital Wing into the silent corridor beyond, and Madam Pomfrey trailed along behind them. Remus could feel her watchful eye on the back of his head and tried not to sway too much as he walked. No need to alarm the poor woman.
As they made their way down to the Entrance Hall and out into the gathering twilight, Professor Dumbledore explained that Madam Pomfrey would escort him to the house in Hogsmeade each month, and that it was up to Remus when he came to the Hospital Wing. If he wasn't feeling up to attending lessons, the Headmaster assured him, the professors would understand. If he hadn't shown up by eight o'clock, then Madam Pomfrey would come find him. They wanted him to be settled in the house well before the transformation took him.
Since their destination was evidently Hogsmeade, Remus expected them to turn down the path to the gates, through which the Hogsmeade road ran, but Professor Dumbledore set off toward the lake instead. Curious, Remus hurried after him, a dozen questions bursting in his head. But he held his tongue, trusting Dumbledore to explain it all in due time.
"Do you remember my announcements at the start-of-term feast, Mr. Lupin?" Professor Dumbledore said as they climbed a bluff toward a large and twisted tree.
Remus eyed the tree warily and swallowed. "The Whomping Willow?"
"Indeed. Our first line of defense." Holding his wand aloft, Professor Dumbledore gave a short little wave, and a long pole appeared in midair. This Dumbledore caught easily and directed toward the tree. The great, gnarled branches stirred ominously, but Dumbledore paid them no heed. With the end of the pole, he prodded at the Willow's trunk, and at once the tree fell deathly still.
"There is a certain knot," Professor Dumbledore explained as he let the other two toward the trunk. "If it is pressed, the Willow will freeze for a moment or two – long enough to get in or out without taking a beating." The Headmaster chuckled and disappeared through a hole among the roots. Remus followed uncertainly, landing in a heap in a small dirt tunnel that, by the light of Professor Dumbledore's wand, Remus could see was long and narrow, its ceiling so low that Dumbledore had to stoop to fit.
"It is quite impossible to see the knot if one does not know it is there," the man continued as Madam Pomfrey dropped to the ground beside Remus, who was now struggling to stand. Madam Pomfrey helped him to his feet, and Remus smiled gratefully at her.
They set off down the tunnel in single file, and walked for so long Remus' legs began to feel like jelly. He stumbled twice before Madam Pomfrey wrapped an arm around his shoulders and supported him, making small, worried noises in the back of her throat. Remus was reminded forcibly of his mother, who half carried him to the cellar each month for the full moon, who seemed to hurt nearly as much as he did at the effect the lycanthropy wrought on him, both before and after the transformation itself.
Remus wasn't sure how long they walked, but it felt like hours to him, weak and ill as he was, and when at last Dumbledore came to a halt, it took all Remus' self control not to sigh aloud.
Professor Dumbledore reached up to open a trapdoor overhead, which swung upward into a large, black space. Remus went up first, with considerable help from the adults, and stared around at the space as Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore followed him through.
Remus couldn't tell if the two-story house was infinitely old or brand new. Everything was in pristine condition, the brass fixtures gleaming in the light from Dumbledore's wand, the curtains a cheery blue. And yet it had the feel of a place long-abandoned. Perhaps it was the boards on all the windows, or the covers over all the furniture, or just the eerie stillness that filled the darkness. For all Remus knew, he might be the first living being to ever set foot in this place. Or it could be haunted with a violent spirit to keep the wolf company tonight.
Professor Dumbledore talked for a while, explaining all the protective charms he had placed on the house, and how the only entrance was past the Whomping Willow and the trap door, which he was certain the wolf would never get open, even without the locks and charms that would be placed on it as soon as Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey left.
Though Remus tried to pay attention, his mind drifted as the pre-transformation illness crested in waves, leaving him on the verge of collapse. Madam Pomfrey fretted over him, seeming not to pay Professor Dumbledore the slightest bit of notice. Eventually, the Headmaster dragged her away, sealing Remus in for the night, and left him alone with his thoughts.
The first thing Remus did was undress, storing his clothes and his wand in the cupboard under the stairs, where he hoped they would be safe from the wolf's rampage. He knew how destructive he could be in that form, and he was certain his mother wouldn't be able to buy him a new wand and robes every month. After this, he found a sparsely-furnished room on the ground floor and lay on the floor to await the change. He'd never had furniture to destroy, but he was sure the wolf would manage it, and he would feel guilty ruining everything in the house from the start.
The strangest part was not being chained up, as he always was at home. He'd hesitated to bring it up with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, who he thought surely had everything under control. If they didn't feel the need to chain him up, then he would trust them to not let the wolf escape.
His thoughts chased themselves in circles – Professor Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and Madam Pomfrey blurred into his mother, the cellar back home, and chains. Anxiety churned within him, and he rocked back and forth on the ground, trying to calm himself.
And then the agony of transformation rose to swallow him
-.-.-
He woke slowly, blinking in the gray pre-dawn light.
The first thing he noticed was that he had moved. The room he had transformed in had a rickety bed and a wardrobe in the corner, but at some point, he had left that room. He now lay on a couch in an unfamiliar room littered with feathers and stuffing from the cushions he had shredded. A broken chair had toppled into the wall, and from the looks of it, the wolf had spent the last stretch of night gnawing on one of the legs, which now rested in the crook of Remus' elbow, pitted with toothmarks and slimy with saliva.
His throat felt raw, which wasn't in itself unusual; the screams and howls usually left him hoarse in the morning. But this time, Remus swore he felt splinters running from his lips clean down to his stomach.
Don't be an idiot, he chided himself, pushing the chair leg weakly away. You're being dramatic. Nothing's different this time.
This was far from the truth, of course, but Remus did not like to make a habit of arguing with himself. Vaguely aware that Madam Pomfrey would be coming for him, and that he was stark naked, Remus tried to gather himself. If he could make it to the cupboard under the stairs, he could at least get his pants on before the nurse arrived.
With this thought in mind, he gathered himself and struggled to an upright position. He was torn up, as always – bites and claw marks littered his body over the already nearly solid web of scars, and a particularly bad bite to his left knee would make walking difficult, but for once he didn't have any broken bones. If he kept his weight on his right leg, he could make it.
Nevertheless, it took ten minutes and no fewer than a dozen attempts to gain his feet, and he swayed on the spot when he finally succeeded. He realized distantly that he'd never stood so soon after the full moon. At home, his mother always came and carried him to his bed, where he usually slept for several hours. But his mother wasn't here to coddle him, and he had classes this morning that he couldn't afford to miss.
And so Remus forced himself to stumble toward the door, down a corridor spotted with blood from the night before, and to the top of the flight of stairs. Here he paused, staring dizzily at what would make for a very long tumble if he lost his balance.
He took a deep breath and, leaning heavily on the railing, began to limp down.
There. This isn't so bad. Just take it slow. Just…
Halfway down, the dizziness hit, and Remus stopped, clutching at the railing in a desperate effort to make the house stop spinning. His vision grew fuzzy, and he pitched forward—
The next thing he knew, he was lying at the bottom of the stairs, in even more pain than before, staring up at a pale, blurry face. He let out a groan.
"Hush now," Madam Pomfrey whispered, smoothing back his fringe. "Lie still. It's over. I've got you."
She dabbed at his forehead with something wet, and Remus let out a hiss as a cut over his eye stung. He wondered dully whether the cut had happened in the night, or when he fell down the stairs. Not that it really mattered. One scar more or less would hardly matter in the end.
He tried to relax as Madam Pomfrey worked, and mostly succeeded, except when she first turned to the wounds on his legs and Remus remembered that he was still naked. But Madam Pomfrey would not have him moving about to preserve his dignity and so, blushing furiously, he screwed his eyes shut and tried not to think about it.
Madam Pomfrey worked quickly and retrieved Remus' clothes and wand from the cupboard he indicated. She helped him into his pants and trousers, wrapped him in a cloak, and all but carried him back to the tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow. Sunrise was still some time away, and the grounds were deserted. The cool mist hanging over the lake swept up towards Remus and Madam Pomfrey as they emerged from the tree. Remus shivered, and Madam Pomfrey pulled him into a hug that, though perhaps not as warm as his mother's, brought comfort just the same.
Breakfast had not yet begun, but Madam Pomfrey led Remus to a quieter entrance just in case, then hustled him up to the Hospital Wing and hid him behind a curtain in the corner bed. Once he was settled, she began her work in earnest, mending what she could and treating the rest with an array of steaming potions and smelly ointments. In the end, he was left nearly mummified with crisp white bandages.
She finally finished half an hour before Charms was due to start.
"Go to class?" she cried when he asked for permission to leave. "In this condition?" She waved her arms to indicate his battered form, the crisp white peeking out from the collar of his shirt, which he'd left unbuttoned, as the bandages themselves came near enough to choking him. He thought if someone tried to wrestle him into a tie, he might just use it to throttle them.
"I'll be alright," Remus assured her, sitting up a bit straighter to demonstrate his complete and miraculous recovery. "It's just class."
Madam Pomfrey gave him a dubious look, as though weighing the likelihood of the boy hopping on a broom for another joyride. Or perhaps she thought class a more dangerous affair than transforming into a werewolf in the dead of night; Remus couldn't tell.
"Please?" Remus tried his best to look charming, although he wasn't sure he succeeded. "I've had worse transformations than this one, and it's never helped me to lie around in bed." This was not, strictly speaking, the truth; Remus had never been able to drag himself out of bed before noon on the day after a full moon, but he figured he could manage. It was only Charms, after all. It wasn't as though Professor Flitwick included muggle brawling on his syllabus.
"I don't know if that's a good idea…"
But Remus would not relent. He begged and reasoned and swore up and down that he wouldn't push himself and would come straight back if he started feeling lightheaded or tired or ill or any such thing. "And if I go around missing a full day of classes every month," he added, not having to feign the panic that crept into his voice, "then people will start to wonder, and someone might figure out what I am, and then—"
"No one will discover your secret, Mr. Lupin," Madam Pomfrey assured him. After a long moment, she sighed. "Very well. So long as you swear you won't overexert yourself—"
"I swear!"
"—then you can go to class. But—" she added swiftly as Remus stood up. "I make no promises about next month. If you turn up looking like you did yesterday, I may have to lock you away until you're fully recovered."
Remus didn't bother to tell her that if she wanted to wait for a full recovery, he might as well withdraw from Hogwarts right now, for four weeks never seemed quite long enough to forget the pain of the last transformation. Instead, he accepted his school bag from Madam Pomfrey, tottered out the door, fixing his robes and shoving his wand and tie into his pocket, and headed for the stairs.
He had planned on returning to Gryffindor Tower for his Charms book, but by the time he reached the third floor where they had lessons with Professor Flitwick, he was panting and aching and decided not to bother. He saw that half the class had already arrived, including Lily Evans, who lit up when she saw him at the end of the corridor.
"Remus!" she cried, running toward him. Remus tensed, half expecting her to crash into him, but she slowed enough that her quick hug only hurt a little. "Are you alright? Oh, Remus, I was so worried! Does it hurt?"
Before Remus could answer, the rest of the first year Gryffindors had gathered around, clapping him painfully on the shoulders, complaining loudly about Gilderoy Lockhart's idiocy, and asking him a hundred questions all at once. Remus assured them all he was alright and tried to squirm away from the attention, wanting nothing more than to reach his desk and collapse. Lily, seeing his face, scowled and told the crowd to give him space. No one heeded her scolding words, and she fumed as she tried to shove them away from Remus. Remus shot her a grateful look and tugged at the collar of his shirt, which still felt uncomfortably tight.
"Come on, guys!" Lily said through gritted teeth, persisting in her efforts to disperse the crowd. "Let him breathe!"
"Are you ever going to fly again?" Alice Howard asked, peering worriedly into Remus' face. "Cause it really is fun, when you don't have bigheaded gits flying into you."
A few people chuckled, and Remus managed a wan smile as he said, "I might give it another go." When the moon isn't anywhere near full, he added to himself.
"Gilderoy ought to be shipped home," Frank Longbottom added, crossing his arms and nodding sagely, as though this were a fact that any reasonable person would see. "He almost killed you!"
"It wasn't so bad," Remus muttered. "And I can't be too mad at Gilderoy. It was just an accident."
"Just an accident caused by a pompous twat!"
Remus turned in surprise to see James Potter walking toward him, a cocky smirk on his face. "I mean look at you! You're half dead!" He made a face and mock-scowled at the other students. "Move along now. You, too, Mr. Longbottom, Miss Catchlove. Give the boy some space."
The students laughed and wandered off, leaving Remus with a clear path to his desk. He tried not to let his immense relief show as he turned to thank James, who merely shrugged and set off for his own desk.
"Keep your eyes on the windows today," James muttered as he passed.
Frowning, Remus watched James go, followed by his best friend Sirius Black. The two boys took up post at the very back of the room with the other Gryffindor boys (Frank Longbottom, Peter Pettigrew, and Alexander Thorne). But Remus didn't pay James or his odd comment too much mind, for his legs were aching, and he mercifully sank into his seat at the front, beside Lily's, without further incident.
The day's lesson was levitation charms, and Remus was having a hard time of it. He couldn't dredge up the focus he needed to perform the charm properly and had to ask Lily for help when, halfway through the class, her feather lifted gracefully into the air.
Thud.
Remus nearly fell from his seat at the sudden noise and turned to search for the cause.
Thud.
His eyes found the window, where he saw Gilderoy Lockhart bobbing on a broom, swaying slightly in the wind that whipped around the corner of the building. Professor Flitwick let out a squeak of fright and sprang toward the window, vanishing the glass. The wind swirled into the classroom, setting parchment fluttering frantically.
"Good morning, Professor!" Gilderoy said brightly.
Professor Flitwick stared at his dangerously unsteady flight. "Mr. Lockhart! Mr. Lockhart, get in here this instant!"
"Yes, of course, Professor. Just one moment."
Not about to let Gilderoy dash himself against the building or fall to the ground three floors down, Professor Flitwick levitated an unoccupied desk toward the window and climbed on top of it to reach out for Gilderoy's broom. "Mr. Lockhart, come here, before you fall!"
Gilderoy swerved away from the professor's grasp, tilting so violently Remus thought he would fall. "It's quite alright, Professor," he said with a daft smile. "I know what I'm doing."
"Mr. Lockhart!"
Remus' heart pounded as Gilderoy struggled to get his broom back under control, and when the rest of the class began to stagger to their feet, Remus did the same. He sprang forward, joining Professor Flitwick at the window, and lurched to seize Gilderoy's broom in both hands. It jerked in his grasp, and Remus was dragged forward, until he was staring out over a dizzying drop, mouth running dry as the previous day's fall resurfaced in his mind.
Several pairs of hands grabbed Remus around the legs – he almost yelped aloud as their fingers dug into the wound on his knee – and pulled him to safety. Remus' hands tightened convulsively on the broomstick, and so Gilderoy, too, wound up inside the classroom, where a shaken, spluttering Professor Flitwick hauled him down to solid ground.
"Remus!" Lily cried, her trembling hands closing around his elbow and guiding him back to his desk. He collapsed there with a hiss of pain mingled with relief and dropped his pounding head into his hands. Lily continued to fuss over him, but he hardly heard her. He could only thing of one thing.
Keep your eyes on the windows today.
His stomach tied itself in knots as he turned to glance at a very smug-looking James. You did this? he thought angrily, fingers curling into fists. It couldn't have been… James Potter was a foolishly headstrong boy, a bit of a prankster perhaps, but this? Remus shook his head. Surely James wouldn't risk a boy's life just for a few laughs…?
Lily touched his hand. "Remus?" she asked tentatively. "Professor Flitwick's taken Gilderoy to his office. He said we can go."
For another few seconds, Remus didn't react. He slowly realized that the room had emptied aside from himself and Lily. Fear and anger rose up in Remus' chest. James Potter had nearly gotten a boy killed, and what was his punishment? Absolutely nothing.
Remus lurched to his feet and stormed toward the door, limping a bit on his injured knee, which was still throbbing from when he had been dragged back inside the classroom.
"James!" he growled, catching sight of the messy-haired boy in the corridor.
James stopped, along with the other four Gryffindor boys. Remus frowned, wishing they would leave, but he continued walking toward the group.
"What?" James asked with a scowl.
At the look, Remus' nerve faltered. His pace slowed, and he dropped his eyes, wondering what he had been thinking, coming to confront James bloody Potter. "What did you do?" he asked lamely.
"What makes you think we did anything?"
Remus glanced up sharply at Sirius Black's words. The boy wore an easy grin, and Remus felt his anger building again. He turned his eyes to Frank and Peter and Alexander. "So it was all of you?" It was half accusation, half plea. James and Sirius, perhaps, would be foolhardy enough to do something like this, but the others? He didn't want to believe it.
James merely grinned his infuriating grin. "What was all of us?"
Gathering his will, Remus said, "Gilderoy. You're the reason he was flying out there."
"Remus. You wound me!" Sirius smirked as he spoke, and Remus thought he didn't look hurt in the slightest. The werewolf chose not to say anything, just shifted his weight off of his aching knee and considered his dormmates. Only Peter Pettigrew looked at all uncomfortable, and that was more fear of Remus' displeasure than actual remorse. It was as though they all thought the trick or whatever it had been was perfectly acceptable.
James rolled his eyes and said, as though reading Remus' mind, "We didn't do anything wrong."
"Frank made sure of that," Sirius added.
They really didn't see. Were they all idiots? The anger festering inside Remus boiled over, and he grit his teeth. "He could have died."
For the first time, a look of uncertainty crossed Alexander Thorne's face, but he shook it away. "He wouldn't have fallen much farther than you did. The way the roof sticks out over there, it'd only be a few meters."
"Yeah!" Sirius added, latching onto this line of reasoning. "And he wouldn't have a great bumbling oaf landing on top of him."
"We did it for you, Remus," Peter whispered from behind Frank.
Remus gaped at Peter, the words echoing in his head. We did it for you, Remus. Frank was talking now, but Remus hardly heard him. For you, Remus. We almost killed someone for you. Aren't you happy? Aren't you flattered?
His head was spinning. He glanced from one face to another, each seeming to mock him with their confused expressions. They actually thought he would be happy? He'd spent most of his life terrified that someone would die because of him, because of what he was. And here these brave and noble and daring boys were, offering as a show of friendship a prank that could have killed someone. True Gryffindors, the whole lot of them.
Remus had never felt less certain of his own Sorting.
It felt like an eternity before he was able to find his voice, but at last he did. "For me?" He suppressed the mad urge to laugh in their faces. "Right, well do me a favor. Don't ever do anything 'for me' again."
And he spun around and stormed back into the Charms classroom, where Lily stood watching him with worried eyes.
"They didn't…? They couldn't have…?"
Remus ignored her and limped to his desk, where he shoved his notes into his bag and caught it up, checking the corridor before he left to make sure the others had gone.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of exhaustion and pain. If not for Lily's constant presence, Remus would have retreated to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey's fretful hovering just to get out of seeing James Potter and his friends any more. But it wouldn't be until well after dinner, where he forced down a few mouthfuls of soup, that he finally managed to slip away from Lily and up to his dormitory for sleep that was long overdue.
A/N: Again, if you want to see James' side of things, go check out James Potter and the Immortal Icon. Thanks for reading, and please review!
