— CHAPTER THIRTEEN —

The Prank and the Pixie

Remus was in Transfiguration, the first class on Wednesday mornings, but his mind was elsewhere. His eyes were fixed on Sirius in front of him. He was in deep, muttered conversation with James who sat next to him, apparently discussing something significant and secretive. Remus ignored the pang of jealousy in his chest.

The week had come and went, and Remus still hadn't had the nerve to tell Sirius about what he'd overheard that night. Firstly, things still weren't the best between them, and Remus felt like it was a good choice on his part to keep his distance. Eventually Sirius would get over his crossness and realise that there was nothing about Remus worth caring about at all, let alone enough to interrogate him constantly.

But more significantly, Remus felt more than a little uncomfortable about the whole Regulus matter. From everything Remus had seen and heard prior to that fateful Saturday evening, it had seemed like Regulus had lived an extremely privileged life. Sirius had made it out that Regulus would only eat finely prepared delicacies with gilded cutlery ... that Regulus prided himself on his smarts despite being privileged enough to have all the private tutors Galleons could buy ... that Regulus was an elitist snob who walked around everywhere with his nose in the air.

However, after Remus's eavesdropping, it was clear to him that this vision of Regulus was erroneous and abridged. Would Sirius really want to hear that—that Remus now believed that Sirius wasn't the only one who had it bad in the Black household? Remus was sure Sirius would explode at him. Remus would definitely understand why; Sirius liked his family so little he celebrated not going home for holidays. So, Remus had said nothing.

Peter to Remus's left nudged him in the side, breaking his reverie. Remus looked up. Peter was gesturing to Lily who he assumed had just greeted him on her way inside the classroom.

"Oh, sorry. Morning, Lily," said Remus.

She smiled timidly. Lily was often quiet these days, Remus had noticed. She rarely spoke in class anymore.

Lily took her regular seat, though Dorcas Meadows wasn't there to sit beside her. (Apparently, she'd taken ill and had been out of commission.)

Once Lily was out of earshot, James spun around in his chair and grinned. "Leave some for the rest of us, Lupin."

"He can have that one," said Sirius without turning.

"Amusing," said Remus, attempting light-heartedness though he was bothered by Sirius's tone.

"Shh, McGonagall's looking at us!" hissed Peter, ever afraid of authority.

The lesson started off like any other. Professor McGonagall was teaching them the theory surrounding untransfiguration, the counter-spell of transfiguration, that returned a transfigured object to its original form.

"This is supremely important especially when you have cast a flawed or wrongful Transfiguration, which I know many of you are prone to doing," she said, directing a pointed look at Peter, who still couldn't properly change a pinecone into a pen. "Now, can someone tell me the incantation of the most basic untransfiguration spell?"

Something Remus hadn't seen in a long time happened; Lily raised her hand.

"Yes, Ms Evans?"

But Lily didn't answer. Remus swivelled to look at her properly. She wore a panicked sort of expression, and rather than face McGonagall, she stared wide-eyed at her right arm, stretched high into the air. "Um—I don't know—I didn't—"

McGonagall was impatient. "We don't have all day, Evans."

"I didn't put my hand up!" Lily cried out. "I don't know what's happening, I can't put it down!"

With her left hand, she tried forcing it down, but it was stuck there, as if only her right arm was Petrified. She was extremely flustered; her breathing was shallow, and tears were leaking from her eyes. As if just realising that everyone was staring, Lily stood up suddenly.

"Ms Evans—!"

She darted out the room, slamming into desks as she did so, looking most ridiculous with one arm raised in the air. A concerned McGonagall followed, hot on her heels, shouting her name.

"I think the weirdest part was that she didn't know the answer," said James faux-casually, earning him titters around the class. Sirius smirked, tucking his wand back into his robes.

"You did that," Remus said, shocked.

James grinned. "Sorry Remus. We would've let you know, but we knew you would've told us not to mess with your girlfriend like that."

"It's not like he noticed us planning all of that anyway," said Sirius balefully.

Remus didn't like how Sirius kept talking about him as if he weren't there.

"How did you—?"

"Levitation Charm plus Partial Petrification. Petrificus Partis," said Peter excitedly. "It was my idea to combine two spells."

"Yeah, but it was clever Sirius who found the spells, Lupey," said James to Remus, slapping the Black boy on the shoulder. "Could match your wits, this one."

How were they so nonchalant, happy even, about this? As soon as McGonagall came storming back in, he knew the Marauders were in for it. Two weeks of detentions at least, for casting body Charms on fellow students. But what Remus was more concerned about was this: it was one thing to bother Severus, who always had it out for them, who always planned something sinister in return. It was another thing, Remus thought, to bully someone like Lily who, though sometimes obnoxious, was good-hearted and sensitive and a fellow Gryffindor. He wanted to berate them for it. He wanted to run outside after Lily and check that she was OK, Lily who was still upset about being called an insufferable know-it-all even after all this time.

But his friends looked so chuffed, so pleased with their little prank. Again, he knew he was on thin ice with the Marauders. Did he really want to risk losing his friends? Against his will, he was reminded of Regulus's conversation with Mrs Black yesterday. Do you want to be like your brother? she'd asked. Did Remus want to be like Lily, like Severus? He remembered what it was like to be on the bad side of the Marauders. The bullied. The friendless.

"Did you have something to say?" asked Sirius, finally addressing Remus.

Remus couldn't match his stare. For the first time, he looked away from Sirius, staring instead at his lap. "No."

"When did you find out you were a Whisperer, sir?"

Professor Jewel, as he often seemed to be, was much preoccupied with his own thoughts. He had been staring out through his office window at the lawn outside. Remus peered curiously at Jewel, who watched students mill around on the grassy field, with a sombre expression on his handsome face. The wind whipped at him, though he didn't seem to mind at all.

It was the lesson they'd arranged a couple of Saturdays ago. Remus had waited after class so that the Marauders wouldn't know where he went, and then Jewel had walked him to his office.

"Professor?" Remus prompted again.

"Oh, s-sorry, Remus," Jewel said hurriedly, tearing his gaze away from the view. "Just lost in my thoughts. Did you ask me something?"

Remus nodded and watched Jewel take a seat his desk, which was even less neat than it had been last time. "I asked when you found out you were a Whisperer."

Remus didn't know what he expected. Perhaps some candidness about his lycanthropy; this would allow Remus to do the same.

"When I was about seven," said Jewel, his gaze wandering back to the open window, "my father found out that the gnomes listened to me when I asked them to leave." Jewel laughed at the memory. "My dad was so impressed. He made me Whisper every day."

"Wow," said Remus, hoping he hid his disappointment well. He reckoned he'd have to wait longer until Jewel disclosed the full truth, that he was a werewolf. That was okay; it wasn't like Remus was the most open person either.

"Right," Jewel said, clapping his hands together. "Our lesson. So, Remus, what do you know about Whispering?"

He thought about it. "I know that it means you can technically talk to any creature, whether they're magical or not. It's more about recognising and interpreting facial cues and body language than actual language use. Creatures only speak to Whisperers if they know or trust them."

"Your memory is great," said Jewel, sounding genuinely impressed. "Right. Whispering, I'd say, is a very special talent. It's as if you've become an animal yourself, like you've become one with your primal side." He smiled. "I know how silly that sounds, but it's true. It's why werewolves and kitsune and the like can Whisper. It's the closest a human can get to not being human. After all, who'd want to be human? Humans are the cruellest creatures of all."

Remus held his breath, waiting for Jewel to continue.

"Every other animal and magical creature lives in a beautiful balance. Humans are the only animals that don't listen to others. Whisperers are so special, because we can finally listen to everyone else." Jewel sighed. "Well, anyway. I digress. Whispering is easier if you know what species you're dealing with. Especially if you're familiar with their habits, what they are. What they like. For example."

He hefted up a smaller trunk from the ground, one of the ones he brought to class, and tapped it open with his wand. Out flew Pester the pixie, the one from their very first Defence lesson.

"Do you remember what Pester is?"

"A Cornish pixie."

"What do you remember about Cornish pixies?" Jewel grinned. "Don't worry if you don't remember. Your exams aren't for another few months."

"They're from Cornwall. Obviously. They're wingless, but they can fly. They're quite small but have incredible strength. They like to steal things from wizards. They give birth to live young."

"Wonderful. I'd pass you right now if I could. Okay, Remus, try to talk to him."

"Hello," said Remus, feeling a bit stupid.

Pester frowned and poked his tongue out as he darted to and fro. But he still said, "Hello, human."

"Easy," said Jewel. "Now try control Pester."

"What?"

Jewel blinked. "Oh, I didn't mention? That's the perk about being a Whisperer. Whispering means you can control other creatures. Make them do what you like. Try it. Use your Whisper on the pixie."

Remus stared at his Defence professor, baffled. Control other creatures? How could Remus possibly have the power to do something like that? His eyes reluctantly drifted to Pester, who zoomed in the air.

"Pester. Stop flying."

He didn't know what he expected to happen. Pester kept flying, blowing raspberries at him, yelling, "Nice try!" and expletives at Remus.

He looked back at Jewel, shrugging.

"You've got to try harder than that," said Jewel. "Really try to access your magic. Remember magic is tied to emotion. Try to empathise with him."

Remus thought about it. Pester seemed to quite enjoy his time outside Jewel's trunk, flying around the place, upturning desks, lifting people by the backs of their shirts. Remus imagined that it would get tedious to live inside the trunk if you were a free spirit such as Pester, inside that confined, claustrophobic home. Sort of like how Ruby was. The thought of Ruby, still sneezing constantly, tucked in his bedsheets to keep warm, made him just a little miserable.

"Look, Pester," said Remus. "I get it. This is probably the first time you've been let out in a while. Humour me, okay? Stop flying."

Pester, to Remus's utter shock, ceased flying, hovering still mid-air like he'd been hit with a Full Body-Bind Curse. There was a glazy look to his eyes; he was looking past Remus, at nothing.

"Fantastic! Have him do something else!"

"Er—Pester! Go clean up Professor Jewel's papers."

Pester zoomed towards Jewel's desk and, at a rapid pace, began to organise the miscellaneous papers in neat piles. Remus looked up to see Jewel's beam of satisfaction.

"I should have Pester do all my chores," Jewel joked. "Well, that was a splendid display of magic. You should be very proud of yourself."

This time, Remus couldn't hide the flush in his cheeks.

"Now, that was a sort of simple creature, just a mere pixie, of course," Jewel was saying, standing up from his desk. "It's much harder to Whisper larger creatures about, dragons and phoenixes and Giant Squids. It's even more difficult to try and control intelligent species, like centaurs or Veela or werewolves."

Remus's ears perked up at the last word. Perhaps Jewel was about to…?

"Back inside we go," said Jewel to Pester, disappointing Remus once again.

Remus saw Pester's eyes remain glazed as he flew inside the trunk and realised this was the first time he'd seen Jewel Whisper, now that he knew about the phenomenon.

"All right, then, Remus. I've had a long day, and I'm feeling quite tired. Would it be fine with you if we ended our lesson here today?"

Remus nodded. "Thank you so much, sir. Today was very helpful."

Remus left, not before Jewel promised that they would have a lesson again soon, with the promise that they'd move onto larger creatures.

A few days later the second-year Gryffindors had the unfortunate luck of having a non-practical Charms lesson. Today, they were learning the theory behind the Tracking Charm, which let you track down a person or a thing you were looking for. It was too advanced, Flitwick told them, but they still had to learn about it. He said it was particularly helpful if you had an enemy you were running from, or you couldn't find a friend. (Remus didn't like how attentively Sirius paid attention that lesson.)

"Six inches of parchment about the spell on my desk by Monday!" the little man squeaked as the class departed for lunch.

Peter instantly left Remus's side to walk ahead to the Great Hall with Sirius and James. Remus didn't mind so much. He'd hoped to catch Lily—who had sat by herself again becausd Dorcas was still ailing—after class ended, but, more than ever, she seemed like she wanted nothing to do with anyone, and she sped off to Godric knows where. Remus was worried about her, but he didn't know what to say to her; she hadn't spoken a word in class all week since the prank the Marauders had played on her.

As the Gryffindors walked to the Hall, Remus caught sight of Regulus Black, walking by himself in their direction. He didn't spare Sirius a single glance—Remus could only imagine the unadulterated fury on Sirius's face, but James took him by the shoulders in a very brotherly sort of manner, guiding him firmly to the Great Hall.

Remus realised with a start that Regulus was walking towards him. Not wanting anyone to see, least of all James, Peter, or, Godric forbid, Sirius, Remus took a sharp left down a corridor, earning a look from Mary MacDonald as he did so.

"Lupin," said Regulus. "What was that about?"

"Never mind that," said Remus. "Er, did you want to talk about something?"

Regulus smiled smugly. It was times like this Regulus reminded him quite a lot of Sirius. "Didn't Longbottom tell you? You're my opponent for the next round of the Gobstones Cup. This Sunday."

Ah, shit. Remus had a list of things in this world he didn't want to ever happen; like Sirius becoming an Occlumens; or one of each of his sock pairs going missing; or a comet crashing into Hogwarts before he could finish his Charms essay. Finding out that he had to compete against Regulus in the Gobstones Cup was definitely high on his list.

It wasn't that Remus was scared to go up against the Black boy. He was smug and self-satisfied, but Remus had been improving in these last few months. It was that Remus knew a bit about the real Regulus, the one whose mother had astronomical expectations of him. Remus was all too aware that Regulus needed to win the competition. And though he didn't know what Mrs Black would do should Regulus not follow through, Remus had an inkling of an idea. He remembered a day at Diagon Alley all those months ago, and her Silencing Charm on Sirius, one that felt like a recurring form of discipline rather than a one-off punishment. Remus didn't want to put anyone through that.

"Right," he said, his throat dry.

"So, what'll it be?" said Regulus impatiently. "My preference is always Slytherin's Pit. Keepsies."

One thing Remus knew: he wasn't going to let Regulus lose the round. But another thing Remus was adamant about: he wasn't going to hand over his Gobstones set, the one his father got for him. No matter how faulty or flawed the Gobstones were, they were his. They'd won him several matches recently. Keepsies meant that when he lost (because he knew he had to), he had to hand over his precious Kingstone to Regulus. Godric-damn it.

"Okay, fine," said Remus. "But I get to pick the location."

Regulus shrugged lazily. "Fine by me. See you next week."

Remus watched the boy go, confident stride and perfect posture masking what Remus knew to be a little boy hunched over with parental pressure.

Remus would think of something. He always did.