10 August 1975
Lavender Cottage was completely silent.
Lying sprawled across his bed, Remus could hear each tick of the grandfather clock in the sitting room downstairs. Per his latest calculation, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. Remus swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. He wished he could sleep. The silence was deafening. His mind was swirling with broken images—his father sobbing on the floor of his study…splintered glass…pointed, yellowing teeth…glittering amber eyes…a blinding flash of white light…
Remus clenched his jaw, giving his head a sharp shake. Then, pulling his covers over his head, he buried his face into his pillow.
By the time Mum had returned to the cottage from the village, laden with an enormous chocolate cake (which had said 'Congratulations, Prefect!' in red and gold icing), Remus and Dad had both dried their tears and freshened up. They had helped Mum set the table for dinner, their faces devoid of any indication that they had shared anything more than a cheerful chat in Dad's study. Remus knew that Dad would tell Mum about the conversation eventually—his parents never hid anything from each other—but Remus didn't think he could have sat through dinner if Dad had done it then. He didn't think he could have relived his father's guilt and grief—or watched his mother's face turn white.
He didn't think he could have borne the weight of the conversation—the magnitude of it all—that if only his father had held his tongue, if only he had kept his temper…Remus's childhood might have been free of pain, free of worry—he might have arrived at Hogwarts an innocent, contented eleven-year-old boy without a dark shadow hanging over him—
Clang.
Remus stiffened. Lying very still, he held his breath, waiting the space of a few heartbeats—
Clang, the sound came again.
Remus sat up in bed, staring across the bedroom at his window.
Clang—a pebble collided with the glass from the outside. Remus closed his eyes, releasing a slow, deep breath through his teeth.
Then, he threw his quilts aside and jumped out of bed, padding stealthily toward the window. Unbolting it as quietly as he could, he wrenched open the glass paneling and poked his head outside—and sure enough, standing in the backyard directly under Remus's window, was James. His lopsided grin was unmistakable even in the darkness.
"James," Remus hissed in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"
"Come outside," James whispered back. "There's something you need to see. It's important."
Remus gaped down at his friend. "You've got to be joking—there is no way—do you know the time—?"
"For Merlin's sake, come outside or I'll write Mary Macdonald a love letter and sign it with your name," James said impatiently.
Remus opened and closed his mouth several times, his cheeks flooding with color. Then, with a strangled noise of exasperation, he reached out and shut the window—but not before he heard James's triumphant snort.
Heart pounding, Remus turned and sidled out of his bedroom door, tiptoeing down the dark corridor, past his parents' room. Then, very quietly, he crept down the stairs, careful to sidestep the creaky floorboards at the foot of the stairwell as he made his way into the kitchen.
"Have you lost your bloody mind?" Remus demanded, pushing open the kitchen door. James was waiting on the back porch in his dressing gown, arms crossed and grinning broadly. "It's two o'clock—if my parents wake up and realize I'm out of bed—"
"Yeah, yeah, all right," James rolled his eyes, seizing Remus's elbow and dragging him down Lavender Cottage's backyard, toward the white garden fence. "C'mon, hurry up—before my parents realize that I'm out of bed."
"Your parents—what—how did you get here?" Remus spluttered, dashing after James to the garden gate.
"We flew," James said, waving a hand unconcernedly as he yanked the gate open and ushered Remus through.
"You flew?" Remus exclaimed—and just as he said it, he caught sight of two broomsticks lying atop a nearby bed of sea lavender. "Hang on—who else is—?"
"All right, you can come out now!" James called in the direction of the cliffs, cupping his hands around his mouth.
Remus stared at James, fearful for his friend's sanity. "James, what on Earth—?"
But that was far as he got. At that very moment—with what sounded like the soft pounding of gigantic paws, clearly audible over the waves crashing in the distance—something black, shaggy, and utterly enormous came bounding up the nearby cliffside—and the next thing Remus knew, he was being knocked backwards onto the grass and a large, smelly tongue was licking every inch of his face.
Remus cried out in alarm, instinctively lunging for his wand before realizing that he'd left it in his bedroom. Desperate, his ears ringing painfully, Remus scrambled back to his feet and tried to shove the beast away—but the enormous animal was undeterred. With a resounding bark, the great black—dog, Remus realized, his breath catching in his throat—reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Remus's shoulders—and for the first time, Remus caught sight of the animal's pale gray eyes.
A jolt of recognition shot through him like electricity.
"Sirius?" Remus asked shakily.
The dog gave another loud, fervent bark, leaping back and sprinting in a circle around Remus's knees—almost knocking him back onto the grass in the process. Numb with shock, Remus reached out and seized the nearby garden fence with a trembling hand, watching in disbelief as the giant dog began to race around the rocks, yapping enthusiastically. Remus's brain was struggling to keep up, he was at a loss for words. Breathing heavily, he turned to face James—and his heart stuttered to a stop.
Where James had stood, just moments earlier, was a massive, majestic, shining red stag, its antlers vast and crown-like against the pale sliver of the waxing moon in the sky. Remus fell back against the garden gate, his body limp, his mouth open. The stag was blinking slowly at him through its wide, piercing hazel eyes. Then, with what Remus could have sworn was an amused twitch of its mouth, the animal bowed its head—and Remus's heart seemed to burst from his chest, surging with amazement, and joy, and warmth.
Suddenly, Sirius let out an excited bark, running full tilt at James and colliding with the stag's legs. James gave a low bellow of alarm, skittering unsteadily backwards on his hooves. Sirius wagged his tongue, his eyes gleaming, and James dug his hooves into the ground. Then, the very next instant, the two animals were off, racing one another along the grassy slope, nothing more than a striking blur of red and black against the outline of the Cornwall coast. And Remus was left by the garden gate, watching his friends, laughing so hard that his sides ached—and feeling lighter than he had imagined possible.
18 September 1975
"Well, well, well, if it isn't our precious Prefect Lupin."
Remus stopped short in his tracks in the middle of the seventh floor corridor, glancing up from his Charms essay to find an unwelcome face leering at him.
"What do you want?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his throbbing forehead—his headache, which had arrived at the start of the week, had been mounting steadily in anticipation of the full moon in two days.
Snape sneered, drawing his wand and twitching it in his hand. "You're looking a little…off-color this evening," he drawled. "Would you like me to put you right? A simple spell ought to do the trick."
"Not now, Snape," Remus said coolly, narrowing his eyes at Snape's wand as he stalked past the stringy Slytherin.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Snape's wrist slash through the air, and without thinking twice, he flung himself flat onto the floor.
"Hey—!"
"Legilimens!"
A jet of unfamiliar electric blue light from Snape's wand streaked past Remus's shoulder, missing him by inches. Leaping back to his feet and whipping out his own wand, Remus snapped, "Expelliarmus."
Snape's wand ricocheted out of his hand and hit the wall behind him, falling to the flagstone floor with a clatter.
"Five points from Slytherin," Remus said angrily. "Attack me—or anyone else—in the corridor again, and I'll arrange a detention with Slughorn."
Snape glowered at him, his sallow cheeks tinged with pink as he bent down to retrieve his wand. Remus didn't spare him a second glance. Sweeping down the corridor toward the Gryffindor common room, Remus massaged his forehead; the pounding was worse than ever.
"Ad honorem," he muttered to the Fat Lady, and the portrait hole sprung open. Remus clambered inside.
"Remus!"
Remus blinked, looking around. Lily was waving at him from the armchairs by the fireplace, where she was sitting with Mary. Remus hesitated, thinking longingly of the warmth of his four-poster bed upstairs, but with a soft sigh, he turned and set off in the direction of the fireplace.
"Hi," he greeted them, blushing slightly as he met Mary's bright blue eyes.
"Remus, this is Snuffles," Lily said excitedly, holding up her little black kitten, which had been curled up on her lap moments earlier. "He's my new cat—I was telling you about him in the Prefects' carriage, remember?"
"I remember," Remus said, smiling at the kitten, which was eyeing him in bewilderment. "Er—he's very cute."
Lily grinned, and Mary rolled her eyes.
"Lily's been ambushing everyone with her cat since term started," Mary whispered audibly to Remus, shaking her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if she started bringing him to class."
Remus laughed as Lily swatted Mary's arm—and suddenly, his head gave a dull twinge. He winced, raising a hand to cradle it.
"Are you all right?" Mary asked worriedly, reaching out and gently touching Remus's wrist.
"I'm fine," Remus said quickly, flushing and taking a step back. "I…I'm just feeling a bit under the weather today. I think I'm going to lie down for a bit before dinner."
"Yeah, there's something going around," Mary said sympathetically, patting his hand again. "Snape was ill Tuesday, right, Lily?"
"Hmm?" Lily asked distractedly, and Remus turned to see that she was staring at him intently. "Oh—yes," she jumped, nodding. "Bertram Aubrey from Ravenclaw was ill, too." She paused, smiling warmly at Remus. "You should go get some rest."
Remus gave Lily a grateful smile, waved at Mary without quite meeting her eyes, then turned and headed up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. When he reached the fifth years' door, he heard James and Sirius roaring with laughter on the other side. Heaving a tired sigh, he pushed the door open and found the two black-haired boys doubled over on the rug in the center of the room. Peter, meanwhile, was perched on the foot of his bed, his face flushed and his chin trembling.
"Hey," Remus snapped, stepping inside and closing the door. "What is this? Are you two having a go at him again because he hasn't managed his transformation yet?"
James straightened briefly. "N-no," he choked out between laughs. "He—he d-did—"
"I managed the transformation," Peter explained, his voice unusually high and constricted. "I did it this afternoon."
"What?" Remus gasped, ignoring the jolt of pain through his temples as he swiveled around to face Peter. "Peter—that's brilliant—!"
"I'm a rat," Peter wailed, tears springing to his eyes. "My Animagus form is a rat."
James and Sirius broke into fresh laughter, clutching one another helplessly. Remus had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.
"Knock it off, both of you," he told them as sharply as he could muster—and with what appeared to be an enormous effort, James and Sirius managed to swallow their amusement, chests heaving. Remus turned back to Peter, frowning. "What's wrong with being a rat, Peter?"
Peter sniffed, flinging him an incredulous look. "Are you taking the mickey, too?"
"No," Remus shook his head, walking over to Peter's bed and sitting down beside him. "Rats are incredibly clever and adaptive creatures."
"Yeah, Pete—Moony's right," Sirius panted, still slightly breathless as he climbed to his feet and joined Remus and Peter by the bed. Grinning mischievously, he flung an arm around Peter's neck, ruffling his blond hair. "I mean, think how small you'll be—think of all the places you can get into unnoticed."
"You'll never have to use my Cloak again," James added enthusiastically.
Peter glanced up at him, his expression half-hopeful, half-uncertain. "Really?"
"Really," James agreed, his eyes twinkling. "You'll just have to make sure to avoid Mrs. Norris."
"And McGonagall," Sirius added, smirking.
"McGonagall doesn't eat rats!" Peter cried, his eyes wide with horror. He looked at Remus beseechingly. "She doesn't, does she?"
"Of course she doesn't," Remus said firmly. But then, grinning a little, he continued, "It's Lily's new cat you have to watch out for. He's a vicious one."
James and Sirius snickered, and Peter's face whitened.
"D'you lot realize what this means?" James asked softly, after a moment. "This Saturday…we're finally going to do it." He looked at Remus, eyes sparkling. "You'll never be alone on the full moon again, mate."
Remus felt a wave of mingled thrill and anxiety crash over him. He bit his lip, glancing between his friends.
James noticed immediately. "Moony," he began in an exasperated voice.
"Are you absolutely certain that you've thought this through?"
James and Sirius exchanged a long-suffering look.
"It's just…look—even though you're all Animagi, now, you have to remember I'm not. I'm still a werewolf."
"You're—what?" yelped Sirius, looking positively scandalized. He looked at James. "Did you know? He's a werewolf!"
James snorted with laughter; Remus did not smile.
"Quit joking for a moment, all right?" he snapped. "It's not the same—I don't…I can't control myself like you three do. You've only ever seen me like this, you have no idea what I'll be like—"
"Are you telling me," James cut in, fixing Remus with a look of deep affront, "that you're not a lovable little puffskein when you transform?"
Remus sighed loudly. "James—"
"He's lying, James," Sirius said, grinning evilly. "Look at him—look how adorable he looks. He knows he just wants to be cuddled."
Remus narrowed his eyes.
"Does he?" asked James seriously. "Do you think we should test it out, to be sure?"
Peter had starting giggling from his bed; Remus suddenly realized what was about to happen. "James, no."
"We should, James—we aren't the sort to jump to conclusions without testing theories, are we?"
"Not at all."
Remus raised his hands in front of him. "No—!"
In a flash, they had leaped on him. Remus spluttered uselessly as Sirius seized him in a headlock. James, meanwhile, had pinned Remus's arms to his sides.
"We'll, I think we can rest our case," James said mildly, watching Remus squirm and struggle as though he were inspecting a curious pet. "He's just as adorable as we thought. The full moon should be no problem at all."
Sirius grinned. "Now, we just need to come up with our nicknames."
Despite the fact that he could barely breathe, the corners of Remus's lips twitched as he glanced up at Sirius. "You know," he gasped, "I'm thinking Snuffles would be the perfect nickname for your Animagus form. Don't you think?"
Sirius tightened his stranglehold on Remus's neck, while James and Peter roared with laughter.
Author's Note:
I'm going to explain away my little underage magic plothole here by saying that the Trace is unreliable when underage magic happens around wizards of age, and that's why James and Sirius could transform in Godric's Hollow and at Remus's house in Tinworth without being caught XD
Ari
