Disclaimer: See Prologue
A/N: Kind of short one today because I'm supposed to be working…eek!
The teenaged Lupin was like a man possessed as he ran down the stairs that led from the dormitory to the Common Room, startling Sirius who was (for once) reading.
Harry laughed at the look of sheer terror that graced his godfather's face before Lupin threw himself onto the sofa beside him, a wild look in his eyes that signalled he had had a brainwave.
"Wait! You were reading?" scoffed Harry, turning to the rather bedraggled man on his left.
Sirius smiled. "For inspiration. I was looking for my Marauder nickname. I don't know why I bothered. After all those weeks of the Marauders consisting of Moony, Wormtail, Prongs and Snuffles, it came to Moony in a dream, didn't it Moony?"
Lupin rolled his eyes and smiled sarcastically.
"You make me sound like Jesus, Padfoot."
"You were." Sirius confessed. "You saved my reputation. The 'Snuffles' incident nearly ruined me. Girls wouldn't go near me, Snivellus was laughing at me…it was horrible; just horrible."
1975
It was to be a Christmas eve like no other. The Marauders were the only Gryffindors to remain behind over the Christmas holidays as James and Sirius had taken it upon themselves to encourage as many people as possible to spend the holiday at home because 'Christmas is a time for family'.
Lupin's mother had practically begged him to come home. Privately, Lupin agreed with her. Surely he should be sitting in the living room, looking out onto the sea and watching the waves crash onto the walls of the cliffs on which he lived, listening to his mother's 'Christmas with Frank and Bing' record on repeat. It didn't feel right to be lying in bed at half past ten in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory and he imagined that listening to Peter Pettigrew singing 'Mary's Boy Child' was what those in the deepest darkest circles of hell were subjected to.
It was comforting to hear his voice though. It told Lupin that he had been dreaming. He was now fifteen years old and he had had a nightmare. He was disgusted with himself but relieved that he wasn't dead, killed by a large black dog with sharp, white teeth. He shuddered. This dog had been a regular feature in his nightmares for years, since reading 'The Hound of the Baskervilles'.
He had taken it upon himself to research this dog at the age of twelve and found that the moors in the neighbouring county were supposedly home to a large, black, ghostly dog. Ever since he had been paranoid. There was a Padfoot after him. There had to be if he kept dreaming of it but he had to keep dreaming of it because it was after him. It was a vicious circle really.
He sat up in bed with a jolt. That was it!
"Where's Sirius?"
James, who was now conducting Peter, glanced over, wished him a merry Christmas and shrugged before joining in with the chorus.
"Why?" he asked as Peter launched into the third verse with renewed vigour.
"I've found him a name." said Lupin, throwing on a battered and patched, grey cardigan for warmth as he sprinted out of the dormitory.
"Come on Pete, this is going to be good. He's replaced Snuffles." said James, grinning and reaching for Lupin's camera.
Just as James and Peter closed the door, Lupin leapt down the stairs and yelled "Padfoot! I've only gone and bloody found it! It was right in front of me all along! Padfoot!"
Sirius glanced up from his book and the image before him evidently took a moment to register as he took a second look with wide eyes as Lupin bounded over to him and sat beside him on the sofa.
CLICK!
"It all fits." said Lupin, ignoring the camera flash and hardly even pausing for breath. "Sirius is the dog star! Your patronus is a dog! The black dog is a symbol of your family! The clues were everywhere!"
Sirius closed his book and slowly turned to James.
"Alright, what have you given him?"
Receiving only a shrug and hysterical laughter in response, Sirius turned to face Lupin who was beaming at him in an almost maniacal fashion.
"So what's all this Padfoot nonsense?"
"That's your nick-name." said Lupin. "I dreamt it."
"Sweet Merlin. What are you, a prophet?"
Lupin's hurt expression silenced Sirius's laughter.
"No I like it Loops, I really do. It makes me sound cooler than I am. It was just the way you said it. So what's a Padfoot then? I imagine from your frenzied ramblings that it's a dog." laughed Sirius, in mock seriousness.
Lupin grinned.
"Well yeah. It's a black dog that roams moors and graveyards and stuff and basically it claims the souls of all those who have sold them to the Devil."
Sirius blinked twice.
"It sounds like my mother."
James laughed so hard, he almost fell off the armchair he had claimed. Sirius smiled, glad that he had regained his sense of humour now that his friends were not referring to him as 'Snuffles' at every opportunity they got. Now if he could only regain his status as 'Sex God' then the world would return to a state resembling normal.
"I like it." he said eventually. "Padfoot. It's much better than Snuffles anyway."
"Yeah actually," said James, sitting straight. "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. It's got a certain ring to it."
"Yeah," agreed Peter. "It's quite catchy."
Sirius frowned slightly, deep in thought.
"Is it just me," he asked eventually. "Or does Moony always have the answer?"
Lupin's subsequent grin could have powered a small city.