Cups of Tea

Part I: Seven to Sixteen

There is something very English about hot drinks. It's not that they have a monopoly on them. Of course not. Tea comes from China, hot chocolate comes from Africa (at least, the cocoa beans do) and coffee comes from…well, I'm not entirely sure, but it's definitely not England. No, the reason hot drinks are so English is that for every piece of news that an English person receives, their response is to switch the kettle on. This holds true for Remus Lupin. I'd like to say that it was always good news that caused him to reach for the kettle. I can't promise you that, but it isn't all bad.

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Remus Lupin could only reach the kettle if he stood on a stool, and he wasn't meant to do that. His mother was worried that he might scald himself on the water. Of course, this was no ordinary day. Today was the day he was going to be cured. Today was the day the healer was going to tell them that there had been some breakthrough and now he wouldn't have to transform every month.

The healer was talking to his parents now, in the front room, while he waited in the living room, sitting on the sofa, pretending to read a book about dinosaurs. It was when he heard a sob that he went into the kitchen stood on the stool and filled the kettle.

"Remus." His dad had appeared in the doorway, watching his son struggle with a full kettle. "Can you come here for a minute?"

Silently, the little boy left the kettle on the side, got down off the stool and trudged towards his dad, who kneeled down, to be at eye level with his son. "There hasn't been any breakthrough," his dad said softly. "It was all just rumours. I'm really sorry." He pulled his son into an embrace, and didn't let him go even when a small voice said, "Shall I put the kettle on?"

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"Remus! Remus!"

He pushed himself off his bed, and hurried to the top of the stairs. He couldn't tell if his mom sounded angry or hurt. He didn't think he'd done anything wrong recently. There was the vase he'd broken by accident, but his dad had fixed it, so it couldn't be that. "Yes?"

He couldn't see his mom, until she stuck her head over the banister and looked up. There was a strange expression on her face, which he didn't understand until she said, "You've got a letter."

His mouth fell open and he trudged down the stairs like he was going to his execution. He was waiting to hear from Hogwarts; to see if he'd been accepted. He wasn't expecting them to say yes. Surely he was a danger, a liability. He was prepared for a rejection. So when the letter began with Dear Mr Lupin, we are pleased to offer you a place, he beamed at his mom; it's warmth dispelling her anxiety. "I'll put the kettle on."

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"Excuse me?" The eleven year old Sirius Black had perfected his glare. After years of watching his three cousins use it to good effect, he had added it to his facial repertoire. "What did you say?"

"I said he's a book-loving loser." The Slytherin boy quailed slightly at the full force of the Black glare, but stood his ground.

"I'm sorry, say that one more time," Sirius said calmly.

"I said," the boy spat out, flashing a contemptuous glance at the mousy haired boy who looked shell-shocked. It wasn't the name calling; he was used to that; it was that someone was standing up for him. "I said, Black, that he's a book-loving loser. And what's more, he's a halfblood. A filthy blood traitor. Just like your cousin."

If it were possible Sirius' glare grew even steelier. "Firstly," he said languidly, "Andy is my favourite cousin, so I would leave her out of this. And secondly-" He drew his wand, a hex hitting the other boy so quickly Remus almost missed it, "he's our book-loving loser. So back the hell off."

"Mr Black!" The sound of a professor's voice echoed down the corridor. As Sirius was thoroughly shouted at, Remus tried to gather himself. He had friends. Friends who defended him. He'd never had friends like that before. He felt the occasion warranted a cup of tea.

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"We know." James' voice was flat and brooked no argument. Of course, if Remus knew what he was talking about he may have had a better idea why he shouldn't argue. He slowly put his charms textbook down and eyed his friends warily. They were all there, James, Sirius and Peter, standing in front of him looking like a particularly young trio of unhappy superheroes. James looked grim, Sirius looked uncomfortable and Peter looked scared. A prickle of worry ran down Remus' spine. He thought he'd been careful, he thought he'd explained away his illness. But from the looks on their faces he hadn't done it well enough.

"Know what?" He had the presence of mind to at least bluff, in case whatever it was wasn't what he thought it was.

"That you're a - That once a - About your furry little problem," James finally got a sentence out, and the phrase he used made a grin twitch into life on Sirius' face.

"Oh." Remus' face fell. He looked at the floor, wondering if scrambling across to the other side of his bed to escape through the dormitory door was a viable plan.

"Remus we don't care," James burst out. "You're our mate. So what if you're a bit bloodthirsty once a month? You've seen Sirius in the mornings."

"Hey!" Sirius made a cursory pretence at offence, before nodding. "Yeah, it's true."

Remus didn't say anything. He was sure they were winding him up. No-one could know what he was and still want to be friends with him.

"Remus." Sirius pushed past James and knelt in front of the silent boy. "Seriously. We don't care. As long as we can still copy your homework, we're not bothered."

"Yeah," Peter finally spoke. "And, and, and we're gonna work on something to help."

Remus dared to look up. "What?"

James smiled. "We got the idea from McGonnagall. Remember the first lesson this year?"

"Animagi," Remus breathed, "But that's really dangerous. You can't-"

"It's no more dangerous than hiding James' shampoo," Sirius grinned, standing up again.

"That was you?" James almost yelled. "I've been blaming Amos."

As the banter continued, Remus allowed himself a smile and a glance at the brazier in the centre of the dorm, where a kettle was just beginning to boil.

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"What the hell was wrong with your broom?" Now at sixteen, Sirius had long hair and a glint in his eye that seemed to draw the girls. Of course, he wasn't employing it at that precise moment because he was too busy berating his best friend. "How did Black manage to get to the snitch before you?"

"I had a bad game," James snapped, as they walked through the common room. "It happens." There was a pause before he added, "And it's really weird when you refer to your brother by his last name."

"He's not my brother anymore," Sirius retorted. "I don't exist in his head anymore."

James rolled his eyes, pushing the door to their dormitory open, whatever reply he'd formed dying on his lips. The room smelt like peppermint, something that didn't happen very often. As the room was shared by three boys, the overwhelming scent was usually of sock. Peppermint meant peppermint tea, and peppermint tea meant something terrible had happened.

"Moons?" Their argument forgotten in an instant, the two boys scanned the room for traces of their friend. It seemed empty and James simply said, "I'll go to the library."

Sirius didn't turn around as James left, but slowly walked towards Remus' bed. There was an untouched cup of tea on the bedside table, and a letter on the floor. The fact it was on the floor wasn't unusual, most of their belongings ended up on the floor at some time, but it was crumpled up. Remus never screwed letters up, he kept them in a box in his trunk, so why was this one abandoned on the floor? He bent down to pick it up, smoothing it out.

Remus.

I'm sorry that I've got to tell you this, but your mother died yesterday. You dad assures me that you can come home for the funeral; that he's written to your headteacher. I'm so sorry that this has happened to you.

I'll see you when you get home.

Aunt Sal.

Sirius sank down onto Remus' bed. His mom had died. Remus' mom was dead. No wonder he'd made peppermint tea. Sirius froze as he remembered something Remus had once said. Peppermint makes me feel safe. My mom always drinks it. It reminds me of her. No wonder the mug was untouched. Sirius got to his feet. He needed to find Remus. He needed to comfort his friend.