Authoress' Notes: Huzzah! We made it through the evils of chapter three, and onto chapter four – what a feat! (For me, of course, certainly not for you.) In answer to a popular question I've been getting through email, there will be seventeen chapters – the same as in the Philosopher's Stone.
However, before we get into the feature presentation, I have a few salient points to cover.
1 – Thanks every one for all the characters you sent in! I put the names in a hat and accidentally pulled out two, (they were stuck to each other), and so I'm using both this chapter! (Thanks, TigerLily21 and Samantha.) Their names have also been added to my big chart of who is currently at Hogwarts, and they may turn up again. Feel free to submit a new character for this chapter, every one! (All of the characters already submitted are still in the hat!)
2 – You all came very close to figuring out the relevance behind the names of the owls. In fact, all of the correct answers were given at some point – but no one got all three!
Remus' owl is named after Artemis, the Greek goddess of the moon – and of course, we know how the moon fits in with Remus.
James' owl, Harpy, is named for his favorite Quidditch team. This was probably the hardest of the three to figure out, but he does talk about Quidditch a lot, and JK has mentioned the Holyhead Harpies rather extensively through the last few Harry Potter books. (Think Gwenog Jones, the team captain.)
Lastly, Polaris is the current north star, and it is a Black family tradition to name children after constellations.
3 – Yay! Now that Remus is back from his monthly ordeal, we can follow him around again! (I rather like writing from Remus' approximate perspective, there's more room for thought development and description.)
Chapter Four: "Detention with Belecost"
Bright criss-crosses of buttery morning light fell across the sleek flooring of the first year Gryffindors' dormitory, illuminating the scattered pages of parchment, misplaced text books and pieces of clothing strewn arbitrarily across the room. With an irritating sense of purpose, the rays seemed to converge in Remus' face, casting a light warmth on his pale skin.
The eleven-year old lifted his head wearily from his pillow. The feeling that his limbs had turned to lead had yet to fade away entirely, and it was with a methodical slowness that he slid his legs over the edge of the four-poster bed and on to the cool floor. The comfortable warmth of the sheets slipped away as he cast them aside, reaching up to rub bleary eyes.
It did not take more than a moment for him to realize that he was alone – and hastily, he returned to the cozy safety his blankets provided. Curling up into a tight ball, he pressed his knees into his chest, and wrapped his arms about his shins, letting his eyes fall closed once more.
Instinct told him he had to sleep, to return to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness, but now that it was four days past the full moon, the wolf was beginning to retreat within his mind. The violent demands it urged him towards had all but disappeared, and he knew that even the steely golden glint in his eyes had faded back to a more neutral hazel color.
No, he couldn't go back to sleep now. It was Tuesday, and he'd already missed too full days of class. Who knew how far behind he had gotten by now?
He yawned, and was on his feet.
Slipping his black work robes over his head, he made quick work of his striped Gryffindor tie ,tucking it neatly under his cardigan, and reaching up for his school bag. He wondered, for a moment, why someone hadn't bothered to wake him up. Perhaps Sirius, who had seen him come in the night before, thought he would want to sleep in? No, Sirius didn't strike him as being the sort to worry about that kind of thing.
Peter might have woken him up, though. The chubby Gryffindor had taken to following Remus between classes and after dinner. However, with such a sudden – although explained – absence, perhaps this had ended for good, and Peter had found someone else to trail. James, probably.
Shouldering his bag, he made his way down the circular staircase and out through the portrait hole. After a quick bowing of his head at a snide comment about punctuality directed at him by the fat lady, he hurried off to Transfigurations, knowing there was at least a half hour left in the class.
"Mr. Lupin," Professor McGonagall looked down at him severely through her square-rimmed glasses. It had been just his luck to push the door open and enter the classroom as she was in mid-sentence on some lecture or another. He opened his mouth immediately to apologize, but her eyes softened. "I trust your mother is on the mend?"
Startled, he nodded. "Yes – ah – she is. Thank you, Professor."
McGonagall tilted her head in the direction of his vacant seat, and he slid in between Sirius and Peter, pulling out his notes and quickly copying what had already been written on the room's black board. He hadn't been sitting for more than a few minutes before a folded up scrap of parchment appeared on his notes, flicked in his direction from the left. With one eye on the board, and another on the parchment, he carefully unfolded the sheet – catching James' expectant look out of the corner of his eye.
'Lupin!' His name was scrawled across the page in James' messy handwriting, with unnecessary flourish, 'You're back! Where'd you go, mate? Been gone for days!'
He glanced up at McGonagall quickly, grateful for the row of girls sitting in front of them. Irmina Wigworthy's flamboyant hair-do effectively hid the note from the Professor's view. Still keeping an eye on the board, Remus picked up his quill. 'I was at St. Mungo's.' He penned the reply, his writing not much neater than James' ,waiting for just the right moment before flicking it back.
Sparing a quick look in James' direction, Remus could see him eagerly reading the note, and appearing somewhat disappointed at the answer. Between them, Sirius was leaning over James' shoulder, and promptly pulled the parchment out of his hands, before scribbling on it and sliding it back to Remus.
'What's your mum got?'
He flinched at the question. Remus already felt guilty enough for using his mother as an excuse to be away, and had even written her a lengthy letter apologizing for it. Glad as he was that there was nothing wrong with her, the lack of tact and subtlety in Sirius' question annoyed him. Furrowing his brow, he replied, 'Malatungocytosis.' He wasn't sure where the name of the ailment came from, or if it was even real, but it sounded as viable as anything.
Once the note was back in his hands, Sirius scribbled another reply before letting James see it, and tossed it back.
'Never heard of it,' Remus had to squint to make out Sirius' near-illegible writing. Beneath the messy scrawl, James had added, 'What's your muggle mum doing in a wizard hospital, anyway?'
At the front of the classroom, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, annoyedly. In a moment, the note levitated itself off of Remus' desk, flew through the air towards the front of the room, and incinerated itself. With a pointed look in the direction of the three note-passing miscreants, the Professor pointed towards the door with her wand, and it opened as if on its own accord, "Class dismissed."
xxxxx
Remus sat alone at lunch. Where Sirius and Goodwin would have been to his left, and James and Peter across the table, the seats were empty. He didn't mind so much, still tired from his transformation the few nights previous. Besides, he consoled himself, it wasn't as if they had just ditched him. Peter claimed to have an unfinished homework assignment to complete in the sanctuary of the library during their lunch hour, and both James and Sirius had some sort of lunch time detention procured during their second period Charms class.
And Goodwin, well, Remus couldn't do much more for the fifth Gryffindor than hope he get better soon. Having spent the greater part of the weekend in the hospital wing himself, he'd seen the prone first year asleep in bed, and had heard from the school matron – in not quite so many words – that he had a serious food allergy of one kind or another, one which wasn't so easily healed with magic.
Those four days in the hospital wing had worried Remus more than anything. On top of Goodwin's presence, there had been two Hufflepuffs; Andrea Wilson and Clara Branstone, who showed up on Saturday with injuries caused by a head-on collision on one of the castle's many staircases.
Hidden behind a curtain, Remus had spent the time sleeping, and weakly listening in on those around him – praying that no one would ask who was concealed in his corner of the room, or worse: let their curiosity get the better of them and take a look for themselves.
Across the room, at the head table, Dumbledore rose. Observing this simple action from where he sat, Remus recalled his desire to thank the headmaster. Pushing aside his plate of half-eaten Lincolnshire sausage – even after the full moon, it took days for his appetite to return – he followed the wizard to the doors leading out of the Great Hall. "Professor!" He called out, once, and the headmaster turned.
"Remus Lupin," blue eyes twinkled down at him, accompanied by a soft, kind-hearted smile. "How is your mother? I hope she's feeling better." The intended meaning to his words was not lost, and Remus found himself feeling in awe of the tall man before him.
"Yes, I – I think she is, thank you."
Dumbledore nodded, satisfied, and turned to walk away. Impulsively, Remus grabbed at his long sleeve, and the headmaster, bewildered, turned to look back at him.
"Professor," Suddenly, staring back up at the man, Remus began to lose his resolve, stuttering slightly as he choked out, "I wanted to th-thank you… for letting me stay."
Dumbledore looked down at his student with what Remus immediately assumed had to be pity, "There is no reason for such a simple problem to get in the way of one's education, Remus." He was still smiling brightly as he continued, "It would be quite a misfortune for a mind so bright as yours to have to remain in the dark." He straightened his shoulders, indicating his desire to continue on, "Now if you'll excuse me, Honeydukes is to owl me a supply of their newest chocolate confection this afternoon, and I wouldn't want to miss it. Chocolate, I find, is a wonderful restorative. You should tell your mother to try some the next time she falls ill." With those few words of advice, he was gone, disappearing down the crowded hallway.
Dumbledore's words, however, were not lost quite so quickly from Remus' head, as he mulled over them on his way to Herbology. He had referred to the hated lycanthropy as being nothing more than a simple problem. Simple. That was easy for Dumbledore to say – he didn't have to go through the painful monthly transformations, or face the ostracism, or the fear.
With the greenhouses nearing, Remus stopped in his tracks. If Dumbledore could view it as a simple misfortune in the boy's daily life, why couldn't he, Remus, take each month in stride? The differences between the great wizard and Gryffindor first year were obvious, but that didn't mean that Remus couldn't try to view it in the same way.
It was something worth thinking about.
xxxxx
At dinner that evening, Remus had pushed the thoughts of his lycanthropy aside, as he came to the conclusion that James and Sirius were up to something. Speaking in hushed tones, their plans were inaudible, although Remus was sure he'd heard the name of their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor come up more than once.
The pair had disappeared after the meal, only to return just as Remus was falling asleep, appearing both tired and frustrated.
It was the same story at breakfast the following morning, and Remus found himself virtually ignored during Transfigurations, except to be asked by Sirius about the lumos spell.
His suspicions, however, were secured during their second period Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Having been absent during Friday's class, Remus buckled down with a firm resolve to learn as much as possible from the lesson – and hopefully pick up what he'd missed. He seated himself at his two-person desk next to Peter, pulling out his text book and notes carefully, as behind him, Sirius filled Goodwin's usual seat next to James.
Professor Belecost was nowhere to be seen.
"Where do you reckon --?" He heard Sirius say, a few feet away.
"Shhh," James replied, urgently, and the pair fell into another round of their hushed murmurings .
Tuning the sounds of their whispering out, Remus turned to Peter, who looked as twitchy as always. This time, however, the anxiety seemed to be due to him having forgotten his text book. "You can share with me," Remus offered, generously, "What did we do in class the day I missed?"
Peter scrunched up his face, struggling to remember. "We're still working on simple spells. I think it was the door unlocking one…" He squinted, as though it would bring the name of the particular spell to the top of his memory, "A – Alo – A - "
"It's alohomora," the red-head in front of them supplied, turning back to look at them. Next to her, one of the Houdini Triplets – Cornelia, Remus recalled – smiled and waved at him.
"Oh, Remus! I heard about your mum," she said, after a quick look to make sure that Belecost hadn't entered suddenly, "I hope she's feeling better."
"She is, thanks."
Cornelia motioned towards the red-head, "This is Lily, by the way. I don't know if you've met her yet or not."
Remus shook his head, he hadn't, and smiled pleasantly at the girl in front of him. "I'm Remus Lupin, he supplied, softly.
"I apologize, class," the rich baritone of Belecost's voice filled the room, as he entered through his office, taking the stairs at a brisk trot and soon becoming level with the students. "My third-years are studying dark creatures – we were out by the lake. Now, if you'll pull out your text boo –"
From behind Remus, Sirius raised a hand, a cold look plastered across his face. "Professor," he interrupted loudly, "I seem to have forgotten mine."
The look with which Belecost shot him was a mixture of annoyance and bewilderment, "Share with Potter, then."
"I'm sorry, Professor," that was James speaking, and Remus realized that this must have been what they were planning. How petty. "But I've forgotten mine, too."
The expression on Belecost's face shifted to aggravation, and Remus couldn't help but notice the cool look he was giving the pair, "Does anyone have a text book they would be willing to share with Potter and Black?" He focused his attention on Peter, "Pettigrew – pass your book back and share with Lupin."
Peter's face broke out in a bright blush, "I'm sorry, sir, but I forgot mine, too. I'm already sharing with Remus."
Belecost opened his mouth to comment on this, but from in front of Peter, Cornelia raised a slender hand, "Professor? I don't mind sharing with Lily. James and Sirius can use my book." She twisted in her seat to shoot them an accusing look, "So long as they don't write in it."
"Thank you, Miss Houdini," Belecost intoned, turning to the chalk board as Cornelia rose to pass the book back, rolling her eyes at the shocked look on her sister's face. Cassia Houdini was sitting a few rows away with one of her Ravenclaw friends.
The lesson began, with the Professor teaching them another incantation from an endless list of simple, but useful spells. "This allows for a few seconds between the recitation and result –" A loud bang echoed through the room, and while the students jumped, looking around hastily for the source of the sound, both Remus and Belecost knew exactly from whence it had come.
Turning in his seat, Remus caught the look of triumph on Sirius and James' faces, and the sight of Cornelia's text book lying haphazardly on the floor, its pages lying open, and partly crushed where it had been unceremoniously dumped.
"Sorry, Professor," James apologized, snidely. "I seem to have accidentally dropped the text book."
Belecost's eyes narrowed. "Pick it up, then." He turned back to the blackboard, "—between the recitation and the result. Which means it is not the sort of spell to use in a pinch. There are very few which such a delayed – " A second bang echoed through the room.
"Potter," Belecost was snarling as he strode down the aisle of desks in the direction of their table, "I am going to have to ask you to – "
"That wasn't me, Professor," James was openly grinning, and he pointed across the room where Cassia Houdini and Aoede Hembree were looking at their text books in bewilderment. The two books had somehow propelled themselves off the desk and both lay on the floor.
Cassia threw her hands up in surrender, "It wasn't us, Professor Belecost! I swear!"
Ahead of Remus, Cornelia chuckled and whispered something to Lily about that being the reason neither of her sisters were in Gryffindor.
Belecost wasn't fooled. Remus could see the steely intelligence in his eyes, and knew that the Professor was well aware that neither Cassia nor Aoede had been responsible for their text books' sudden uncharacteristic flight for freedom. However, he let the lesson continue – only to be interrupted once again as Arnold Crowder and Laurence Derwent's books went flying, to be followed by the one Lily and Cornelia were sharing. Patience wearing thin, Belecost rounded on who he suspected – no, knew – to be the culprits.
"Potter, Black – detention." He turned back to the board before adding, "You too, Lupin."
xxxxx
That evening brought the dreaded detention. Despite attempts to prove to Professor Belecost that he had had nothing to do with James and Sirius' scheme, Remus found himself trudging down to the second floor, trailing the pair as they made their way to Belecost's office. Why the Professor had lumped him together with them, he didn't understand – and neither James nor Sirius saw reason to apologize.
In fact, from what he could hear of what they were saying a few feet ahead, they found the whole thing quite amusing.
Remus certainly didn't.
As a dead man walking, he entered through the door which Sirius gallantly held open, to see the Professor standing tall behind his desk, back to them. He had doffed his traditional wizarding robes in favor of a worn pair of muggle jeans, and an equally tattered dragon-hide jacket. "Boys," he smiled – something Remus had not expected – and motioned at three chairs positioned in front of the desk. "Sit."
Behind him, Sirius and James exchanged a glance, before slipping into the seats on either side of Remus.
"I must say, I should have expected worse than what you put me through this afternoon," He was still smiling, something Remus took as uncannily good fortune, "Especially after that bald-faced lie I threw at you the other day," This seemed to be directed at James and Sirius, who grinned. "Be that as it may, your actions were out of place, if somewhat amusing. You will be serving a detention for me, so don't get too comfortable." He continued on, singing praises of their advanced spell work, having capably aimed their attack at the textbooks simultaneously, sending them ricocheting to the floor. "Where did you learn that spell, anyway, Remus?"
"Uh – Professor?" James had raised a hand, shooting him a confused look, "Lupin didn't actually have anything to do with it." He was pointing at Remus, in what the Gryffindor realized was an uncharacteristically charitable action – for which he was grateful.
"Lupin?" Belecost looked down at Remus as though seeing him for the first time, although he had been sitting directly in front of him. "Oh. Yes. Well, I had pegged Remus for being the one responsible for the planning –"
Now it was Sirius who interrupted, "No, that was James. It was all his idea – "
"Yeah, well you're the one who actually did it!" James glared accusingly over Remus at his friend, not wanting Sirius to get out of the detention.
The Professor looked down apologetically at his student, "I apologize, Remus. I seem to have underestimated Potter and Black. You're free to leave - unless of course, you'd be interested in helping your friends and I sort through a rather large box of contraband items which Apollyon Pringle left in his office." The previous school caretaker had retired over the summer, leaving the younger Argus Filch to take over the position. "He seemed to think it was something only a Dark Arts instructor could handle, although I'm convinced it's more along the lines of several fanged frisbees and some sort of charmed percolator." He paused, glancing into the box atop his desk, which Remus had failed to notice in his nervousness. "I think I'd better take a look at that one."
The Gryffindor paused to consider for a moment. Did he want to spend the rest of the evening with James and Sirius? As he deliberated, the pair jumped to their feet to dig eagerly into the box, James immediately asking how much they were allowed to keep.
"Reems!" He looked up at the sudden nickname, to see Sirius shifting over to the side of the box and motioning him over. "You going to check this out, mate, or what?"
Without a second thought, Remus moved over to Sirius to peer into the box. It was a veritable treasure trove of banned candy, joke items and wizarding toys.
"So," James was still pestering the Professor, now holding what looked like a handful of gobstones, "Do we get to keep any of it."
A smile twitched its way onto the corner of Belecost's mouth, as he examined the box offhandly, "You're in detention, remember? You're supposed to be sorting, not stealing." He moved away, the charmed percolator in hand, "However, I'll be all the way over here, back turned, partially deaf and happily working on other things."
Satisfied, James stuffed the gobstones into his pocket, and resumed digging through the box. "What's that you've got, Remus?"
Remus had pulled out the first thing he saw – a blank piece of parchment – it didn't seem to have any sort of interesting qualities, but once Sirius pulled it from his hands he found himself defensively pulling it back.
"Looks like one of those trick pages," Sirius commented, turning back to the box, "You know, you write on it and the words can only be read by someone with the right charm. Could be right useful for passing notes in Transfigurations. You can't get nothin' past McGonagall."
From the other side of the office, Belecost snorted, then said, "I hope you aren't planning anything devious. But since I can't hear you, I can't be blamed," and he pointedly ignored the sight of Remus folding the parchment up and carefully stowing it in his pocket.
Sirius chuckled, "S'all right, Professor. We'd never do anything in your classes."
"Not anytime soon, anyway," Remus murmured, and Sirius only laughed harder, patting him on the back.
James grinned, but his attention was drawn back to Belecost's earlier comment. "Professor, why did you lie about having been in the Forest anyway?"
Belecost looked up from the percolator, placing it down carefully on a side table, "I had hoped that by making it appear I had no interest in the Forest, you would assume that it wasn't worth the trouble. You boys remind me of myself when I was your age – can you believe I was the most mellow of the three of us?"
Remus smiled at this, considering himself to be the most mellow of the five Gryffindor first-years.
"You saw through me quite easily, I'm sure. I could tell once you two had left my office that I'd made a mistake. Really, now, the Forest is no place to be playing around. No one wants to have to send out a search party to find you three."
Remus reminded himself to ask what exactly Sirius and James had been doing – but not until they were back in the common room. For the time being, he simply pushed Sirius' elbow out of his way and happily dug in to Apollyon Pringle's box of contraband items.
Because who knew when a good fanged frisbee would come in handy?
xxxxx
October 14th, 1970Remus' dark quill flashed against the light color of the parchment. The already messy words were coming out crooked as he struggled to see what he was writing despite the lack of light.
Dear mum, and dad,
It's been over a month since term started, and Hogwarts has to be the most amazing place I have ever been. Despite being here for weeks, I still haven't learned a quarter of what there is to know about the castle, and I'm beginning to wonder if there actually is anyone who does.A familiar prickling sensation had begun along the back of Remus' spine, and he began to write with more fervor, his letters looping in a frantic swirl and ink splotches appearing more rapidly on the page.
There are four other boys in Gryffindor, and I'm beginning to become good friends with each of them.
Peter Pettigrew is quite shy, but almost impossible to shut up once he gets going. I know he struggles sometimes with school work, so I do my best to help out when I can. He's become terribly fond of following me around between classes, but I don't mind, really.
Sirius Black is rather like a young Uncle Henri. He's just as bold, but probably a little bit more gifted. He has an infuriating habit of thinking only about his stomach, calling me "Reems", and falling asleep on the common room couch.
You'd like Goodwin Perkins, he's an all around good egg. He's a big fan of Quidditch, even though neither Sirius nor I understand what he and James are talking about sometimes, and he's really good at all the schoolwork. Unfortunately, he's been missing a lot of class lately. It turns out that he's allergic to almost every thing. Milk, peanuts, shellfish, certain spices used in flavoring. All it takes is a little bit to land him in the hospital wing for a week.His hand was trembling now, and not just from the chill that had arisen as the long, October night began.
James Potter is our fearless leader. He --
A choking sound rose up from his throat, to be followed shortly by a muscle spasm in his left arm.
-- He comes up with some of the better ideas for entertainment. Although I'd be lying if I said they were all good. He's somehow managed to start up some sort of rivalry with one of the first-year girls. It's quite amusing to observe; yesterday she spelled his hair to stick up all over the place, and he's decided he likes it that way.He swallowed, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg.
The teachers are all very interesting, too. Our Head of House, Prof --
-- Professor McGonagall is stern, but very fair. The Potions master doesn't even bother to hide the fact that he plays favorites, and the rest of the teachers are very helpful. One in particular, our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Belecost has become a great favorite of ours. His classes never fail to be exciting, even when we're doing the simplest things.
A gasp cut through the silence of the rundown shack, and Remus, startled, realized it was his own, the pure aggression of the wolf forcing its way to the front of his mind. He had to fight it, had to keep writing.
Both Sirius and James have taken to emulating him in every way they can. I'm surprised that they haven't sent out for dragon-hide jackets like the one the Professor wears when he's not teaching.
He even promised to --
The words trailed off, becoming nothing more than an illegible scribble crookedly scrawled across the bottom of the page. Remus had lost the ability to control the tremors in his hand, and he knew that somewhere far above moonrise had begun.
The transformation began in his face, with his jaw elongating painfully into the stretched snout of the wolf, his teeth widening and growing in his gums. The first few moments of conversion were always accompanied by his shouts of pain, growing louder with each passing second until they were cut off completely by the rapid change of the structure in his vocal chords.
It was a pained whimper which reverberated off of the walls of the shack as the transformation grew violent. His elbows and knees popped as they changed to the conformation of the wolf, a dense coat of fur growing across his body. His ears shrank into the side of his head, only to regrow several inches farther up into pointed, furry peaks.
A sharp howl ripped its way out of the creature's throat, and for a brief moment, a haunted look flashed through the golden-yellow eyes, only to be replaced by unhindered belligerence.
It threw itself against the thin walls of the building trapping it. The wood groaned under its weight, and the wolf snarled, eager to be boundless, to run free and prey uninhibited in the nearby forest. Again, it hurled itself at the wall. Nothing in the building was safe once it was set loose.
The letter, which Remus had so carefully penned, was trampled, torn to shreds under sharp nails. The flecks of parchment were unceremoniously loosed into the air as the wolf circled the room in a frenzy, creating a shower of white in the darkness.
There was no one to grieve – the wolf was free.
Closing Comments: That transformation was just for you, Strange Magic. Originally the chapter was going to have less of a span, but you wanted to see poor Reems battle his lycanthropy, so here it is!
Some notes regarding the chapter - I named Irmina Wigworthy before I decided she'd have a flamboyant hair-do. Now that I think about it, it really seems to fit. Also, I mention that James, Remus and Sirius all have messy handwriting. Every one seems to like the idea of Reems being incredibly neat and what-not, so I'm single-handedly fighting back. See, I only know one guy who has neat hand-writing – and Remus isn't him.
I also unintentionally gave him a Dumbledore-influenced epiphany regarding his lycanthropy. This is because I don't really view Remus as the type to mope around feeling sorry for himself. Yes – he views it as a huge problem and what not, and doesn't want to burden anyone else with it. (But if you had to read the rest of this fic with him just wallowing in self pity, you'd get bored. So if that's what you're here for, I suggest you go find a one-shot about it or something.)
Lastly, I'm trying valiantly to keep Lily in the story, but at this point it's rather difficult. I'll try to give her a cameo of some sort in as many chapters as possible – she's appeared in all four up to now, at least.