Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle…
One...two...three, four, eight- The rain began to hammer down on the window with increasing speed; running in torrents across the panes; falling from the stone ledge. I rolled over in the scratchy and heavy blankets to watch the teal dawn sky turn to a deep thunderous grey as the cloud rolled across the rising sun: eclipsing it. I started violently as loud and chesty coughs issued from the bed beside me. I could not see the coughers face -it was obscured by the boxes of sweets and chocolates, cards from well-wishers and bouquets of flowers from loving families. They all had them. Every bed that lined the stone walls of the hospital wing was adorned with gifts from friends and family. But there was one bed that lay bare; the grey woollen sheets and blankets dull and simple. That was the bed I lay in now.
I fidgeted, adjusting the sling that bound my arm to my chest. It had been dislocated the night before and was still sore, but I was able to move it. I flexed my fingers, but they were rigid with the bandages that tangled each of them. I tentatively unwound one bandage on my left hand to sneak a glance at the nail beneath. I breathed a sigh of relief to see the nail grown back, but not daring to invite myself to remove the rest of the bandages.
"Ah, Lupin," A soft but firm voice made me jump and quickly rewind the bandage around my finger. "You're up I see."
"Good morning, Madam Pomfrey." I greeted brightly.
"Nice to see that you're in high spirits: I dare to say that yesterday didn't seem as bright." She said striding over to my bedside and beginning to unwind the bandages from my hand, scowling at me when she came to the loose one I had already undone myself. I smiled sheepishly.
I had spent most of the previous day asleep. The day after the full moon was mostly sleep. Exhausted from my long night out I would fall into unconsciousness and wake a day later: usually at dawn. How much of that sleep was medically induced, I did not know. The only way I ever found out what injuries I had sustained was the check the clipboard always hooked at the end of the bed.
"Not one of your best nights." She said. I silently agreed, slowly nodding my head.
"Hm. Well, I think that you're ready to go." She smiled sympathetically down at me. I smiled back, knowing that she only meant well, but I didn't need sympathy and only found it patronising when it was handed to me.
I hoisted myself out of bed and watched Madam Pomfrey disappear into her office as I drew the curtains around my bed to change into my school uniform folded neatly under the bed. I pulled on the terribly threadbare uniform, sewn and patched multiple times. I had worn this uniform my entire school career and as had my father.
I was ridiculed for my incredibly large uniform as a first year, and at first, I didn't understand why I couldn't have bright and new uniforms like all the other students, but as I aged and continued to pull of the same uniform my father had, I understood why my family lacked the same financial stability my classmates were gifted with.
At the moment, the worn uniform was a perfect fit and all I could do was pray that I did not grow again as my trousers could not be let down much more. I had obviously had new shoes through the years but now I wore my fathers work shoes that he no longer had use for since his dismissal from his mediocre job at Gringotts not long after my birth.
I slung the battered leather satchel containing the day's school books over my shoulder and slipped out of the Hospital Wing to face the long stretch of the fourth floor corridor that lead to the clock tower, but I turned immediately right as I should do, to descend the stone, spiralling steps that would take me to the Grand Staircase.
I continued down the ever-changing pathways of the Grand Staircase until I found myself sat alone in the great hall. Five o'clock in the morning and I doubted any Hogwarts students had even fluttered an eyelid. The food was set out though, and I felt strange sitting at the large banquet alone. I chose a piece of toast to nibble at before I decided that I could not stomach it and drew my school books from by bag instead.
Time dragged past and the ceiling of the hall did not change from its dreary grey but the hall did fill with weary and sleep deprived students who soon perked up at the sight of well cooked bacon and their friends.
"Moony!" The holler came from behind me as a broad hand slapped my back affectionately. "Survived then? I needed that night's sleep. I was dead yesterday." Sirius sighed as he collapsed onto the bench beside me; his fringe flopped into his dark eyes, head in his hands.
"We are not going swimming again." James concluded with as much exhaustion as Sirius had, taking his seat across from us.
"Swimming? Is that what you were doing? I would have called it frolicking." Peter chided slipping in next to James with a grin, immediately reaching for the stacks of bacon.
"Stags aren't built for swimming." He scoffed with no tone of humour. I shook my head with a smile and pushed the rack of toast towards him. He took a slice with a pout and nibbled on it slightly before his eyes wandered to an appealing looking plate of fried eggs.
Sirius' eyes moved up to my face, dark iris's raking over me in search of any of the graze or scars-marks I had not shown for two years, not since my friends had taken up their animagi forms, but still marks Sirius and James would take as personal failures in looking after me. The transformation took its toll, of course, but the battle wounds I used to bare were from the manic fight I raged against the walls of the room I was trapped in.
"It was a good night." I say, smiling at him.
"Yeah." He agreed, pushing my books off the table and placing an omelette in front of me, nodding at me to eat it. I shook my head and pushed it away, only to have him push it back with a death threat if I did not even make an effort.
Lessons for that day were tedious and dragging. The rain had not cleared that entire day; the sky was white and grey as a feeble mist of rainfall veiled the grounds, soaking the thick lawns and running off the trees and plants in streams.
October was a month of fire and warmth as the trees shed their coats in an inferno of scarlet and burning orange, presenting the school grounds with a thick and rich carpet fit for a palace; but this October seemed to lack the colour and the festivity. Halloween was a week away and the leaves had only just begun to fall, promising that royal gift. October was a month to be savoured as it all too soon turns to the bleak wasteland of winter.
Already the school was draped in spiders and their webs, pumpkins floated in corridors and several of the more whimsical teachers had taken up costumes as their everyday dress. James and Sirius were enamoured by the celebrations as the fruits of any holiday were to be reaped at one of Slughorn's infamous parties where the revered teacher would neglect to invited any members of staff beside the one's who would also turn a blind eye to the large amounts of both wizard and muggle alcohol being consumed by the young students. It was 1976, a year to party, apparently.
[i]I[/i] was not one of Slughorn's favourite students; I lacked the charisma although not the knowledge. He favoured the fantastic students, not the bright ones- the fireworks and not the fireflies. And James and Sirius were just the fireworks he liked. Although not member of the exclusive Slug Club, when they turned up at his parties, Slughorn was just too fond of the boys to turn them away, Peter often slipping in behind them.
James and Sirius regarded themselves as gifted with a subtle and ironic humour when they had chosen their Halloween costumes for that year's celebrations. Their costumes were not particularly elaborate nor seemed to involve any kind of effort as James dressed in brown corduroys and a brown knitted sweater with a pair of modest antlers on his head and Sirius in the darkest denim he owned and a black sweater, donning a black pair of dog-ears. Both boys had painted the tips of their noses black for a final touch.
"I still think we need tails." Sirius declared, tuning in the mirror to see the back of his jeans. James pushed him sideways to examine himself instead.
"Shut up, we look great!" He put his hands on his hips "Ah, Halloween night, Sirius, we become men. I can feel it in my bones."
"There certainly is a bone you will be feeling it in." Sirius raised his eyebrows cheekily. "Anyway, what do you mean we?!" He scoffed, crossing his arms.
"The tip doesn't count." James jeered at his friend.
"It's the sentiment that counts." Sirius huffed and moved to sit on my bed where I sat watching to two. "Remy-Remy-Remus." He sighed. "Are you sure that you're not coming? We have big plans!"
I shook my head. All three of my friends had neglected to check the moon cycle, too excited about the party. Halloween was still a week away, and I prayed that they would notice. I would not be so selfish as to tell them myself, inflicting such guilt would be cruel- and I would make them miss the night they are so looking forward to. But if they noticed themselves, it wouldn't be my fault, right?
"You're so lame." He smacked he over the head playfully. "Whatever, Moony, if you'd rather study-"
"I would. But thanks, Sirius." I smiled at him.
Just then Peter came scampering in as the final piece to the trio with a grey suit, rat ears, and a long cord tail trailing behind him.
"How do I look?" He asked giving a little spin.
"Urgh, we're geniuses." James gloated modestly as he observed his troupe in the long mirror.
"That tail looks so good. I told you, James, we need tails!" Sirius argued staring longingly at the rope sewed to Peters suit trousers.
"Let off with the tail!" James insisted. "We look fantastic."
I smiled at them; three of the four Marauders. Part of me really hated them for forgetting- for rather chasing girls than saving me from myself. The night would be long, but when I wake up, I guess I won't be able to remember most of it, anyway.