Chapter 3 – Roses for Remus
Remus was depressed and all of Gryffindor house knew it. He and his three friends had become a fixture in the common room, not so much fellow students as the showmen who gave every day its savor, and now quite suddenly there were only three of them. Remus no longer frequented the common room or even the library; he passed ghostlike through his former haunts, going no one knew where. He didn't sleep and hardly ate. Mostly he stayed locked in his dormitory, working feverishly on a project that never seemed to near completion. He had even begun skipping prefects' meetings; James talked to him about it, first as Head Boy and then as one friend to another. When that had no effect, Dumbledore called Remus to his office for the first time in his seven years at Hogwarts for an official reprimand and an unofficial offer of help.
"If there is anything I can do to help you become who you were," Dumbledore had said, "you have only to ask."
In response, Remus had unpinned the prefect badge he had once polished religiously, now dull with fingerprints. "I renounce the office and duties of prefect because –" he stumbled, and hated himself for it – "because I can no longer fulfill them properly."
"Why not?" Dumbledore asked gently.
Remus lowered his eyes, unable to face any longer that piercing regard. "I can't say," he muttered, despising himself now for not lying to Dumbledore, and for not telling him the truth.
"I need a reason for the official record, you know," Dumbledore said, still with the same calm.
Remus saw the Head Girl badge shimmering on her robes and blinked. "Make something up," he said savagely. "Say I vandalized your office, or say I'm the Dark Lord himself, I don't care."
Something in Dumbledore's face changed; what it signified Remus neither knew nor cared. "I'm going to say personal reasons, how does that sound?"
"Fair enough," Remus said. "May I be excused?"
"One more thing. Be careful –" Dumbledore seemed to be struggling for words. "Be careful that you do not become bitter over this."
"No, I certainly don't have the right to be," he'd said, unsure whether he was being sarcastic or serious.
That had been on a Thursday. Today was Saturday, Hufflepuff was playing Slytherin at Quidditch in ten minutes' time, and Remus was at his desk, a book open in front of him that he was clearly not reading.
Someone knocked four times on the door.
"That you, Sirius?"
Remus got up to neutralize the spells on the door, and sure enough it was Sirius, wearing James's red-and-gold scarf from first year that he always wore to games. His cheeks were tinged with red as though he'd been out of doors already.
"You coming to the game?"
"I don't think so," Remus said. Even Quidditch meant her, now.
"Can I come in?"
Remus stepped aside – it was after all Sirius's room too, and he could hardly refuse – and Sirius sat down on Remus's bed, closest to the door, as if it were his own.
"You're going to be late for the game," Remus said automatically.
"You love Quidditch, why aren't you coming?" Sirius crossed his arms, still seeming almost to be made of porcelain except for his dark searching eyes. "It's because of her, isn't it."
"What else?"
"Is that why - ?" Sirius didn't finish asking, just walked up to Remus and poked him in the chest, the spot where his prefect badge used to be. "I can't say I blame you," he said more gently. "I never wanted to be one myself, but you really did. And you gave it up for her?"
"I can't stand seeing her," Remus said low. "Can't go to meetings and act like I don't see. I can't let her know things haven't changed for me – the way they have for her."
"What happened?" Sirius said. "I wanted to ask but –"
"I know," Remus said. So he told the story, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, pretending it helped. Sirius listened without a word until Remus finished, lifting up his eyes, "I told her the truth, Sirius, and she'll never admit – no one ever says they're prejudiced, do they? – but if she ever felt anything for me, that's over for ever."
"Isn't that what you wanted?" asked Sirius softly and Remus jerked, astonished. "Isn't that why you wished for them –"
"I wanted her to have someone to protect her, not put her in danger," he said. "I wanted her to have what she deserves."
"Well, James doesn't think he deserves her, does that change anything?" Sirius retorted.
"That isn't like James and you know it."
"Regardless," Sirius said, "she would have found out the truth sometime and you know it. She isn't stupid and someday she'd figure it out, and do you think it'd hurt any less then?"
"I wouldn't count on it," Remus muttered.
"The only thing you could reasonably torture yourself with," Sirius continued, "is telling her that it was James and not you."
"It would only have made her feel worse," he said, "knowing what I am."
What Sirius did not say, what he knew Remus would not hear, was that real love would not have walked away. Instead he said, very quietly, "I wonder if anyone will ever give up as much for you as you have for others."
"I think you would, if you had to," Remus said. "Wouldn't you?"
Sirius didn't answer, just smiled. "Remus," he said, "I've made something for you. I think it'll help, but I won't give it to you until after the game, so you might as well come along."
"Well," Remus said. "I wouldn't go if I thought you were just trying to drag me out of the room. But since I know you only want me along so you don't have to walk into the stands by yourself –"
"You're too noble for your own good," Sirius said, smirking. This was more like the Remus he knew.
"Hand me my cloak and scarf, will you? I don't fancy having to regrow a hand today."
Hufflepuff edged out Slytherin in a nerve-twisting game of 150 to 100, and Remus yelled as loudly as anyone, if only to distract himself from other things. To their credit, neither James nor Peter questioned his sudden reanimation, nor did they ask what was in the bottle that Sirius brought up from his subterranean lab.
"I couldn't really test it on myself," Sirius explained to Remus, back up in the dormitory. "I'm not in the same frame of mind, you see. And I wasn't about to test it on you, not knowing what it might do. I'm still not sure it's safe, so if you don't want to risk it –"
"I trust you, Sirius," said Remus evenly, and drained the bottle in one gulp.
It hurt Sirius's heart to think of that.
Traditionally, there was a Hogsmeade visit on the last Saturday before winter vacation, so the quartet left the castle together in the early afternoon, for all appearances the inseparable group they'd been a few weeks ago. The big excitement this trip was finding James a gift for Lily; Sirius was worried about how this would affect Remus, but he seemed oblivious to his heart.
"Where do you even shop for a girl?" James asked, looking faintly panicked.
"Well, I guess Zonko's is out," Remus said.
"So is Honeydukes," Sirius added.
"Why?" James demanded. "What's wrong with Honeydukes? I could get her –"
"What, some Chocolate Frogs?" Sirius snickered. "How first year."
James flushed a dull red. "Fine, Honeydukes is out. Any other helpful advice?"
"There's always Gladrags," Peter said.
Remus and Sirius shared a smirk. "You could buy her some perfume," Sirius said mockingly.
"How about a nice necklace?" added Remus.
"Or if you're really getting serious, they've got some high-quality lingerie," Sirius said gleefully.
"I'm shocked, Sirius," said Remus, in a tone that said he wasn't. "I didn't think you were the kind of person to hide Gladrags catalogues under your bed and read them when you think no one's around –"
"What?" Sirius yelped. "This is slander. I absolutely don't have to take this from you."
"You two are so immature," James interrupted. "If you can't act your age, then don't come shopping with me. Go to Zonko's with the rest of the third years."
"Oh, but we are acting our age," Sirius said. "It's no use pretending to be an adult. We know what you're capable of."
"But I don't want Lily to know," he snapped. "She thinks I'm the responsible, mature Head Boy and Quidditch captain, and I'd rather like things to stay that way."
Remus tripped over a rock in the street, Remus who had always moved with the feral grace of his other self, and Sirius reached out to steady him.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I feel sort of pale," Remus said in an odd voice and started coughing, bent forward with his hands over his mouth. When he straightened up and let his hands fall, there was a single rose petal stuck to his palm.
It was the color of fresh blood and at first Sirius thought it was, that Remus was carrying around some secret internal wound beneath his same untouched face.
"Oh God," James said, thinking the same thing, until he touched the spot of red and it fluttered whole into his hand.
"Is that a rose petal?" Peter said incredulously, and soon he and James were giggling at the sheer absurdity of it, but Sirius knew better. The potion had begun to work, and he hadn't been so far off after all.
"Don't move," he said to Remus, who nodded mutely with wide scared eyes, who didn't need Sirius to tell him what was happening.
Hogsmeade was of course entirely populated by wizards, but some of them had learned well from Muggles, because on every street, instead of a telephone booth, there was an owl in a glass cage and a quill chained with a spell to the slanting glass writing surface. It cost a Sickle, which Sirius did not have, but Peter gave him the coin and Sirius sent a hasty owl to Hogwarts while James gripped Remus's shoulder and Remus coughed as though he might turn inside out.
To their great surprise it was not Madame Pomfrey who came, no magical stretcher or smoking potion, but Albus Dumbledore himself, who flew them all back to his office, who made Remus some bitter-smelling tea laced with honey, who inquired what had happened.
Sirius told a half-lie, that he had concocted a new potion and Remus had tested it even though he, Sirius, had warned Remus that it most probably wouldn't work –
"What was it supposed to do?" Dumbledore asked.
Sirius froze. To cure this poisoning love, of course, he couldn't say that. What else could it be - ?
"I'm trying to cure lycanthropy," he said. "Sir."
Dumbledore regarded him solemnly. "An admirable cause," he said. "I wish you luck."
Then of course Remus had to go to the hospital wing, where Madame Pomfrey had to put soundproofing charms around his bed so the other patients could have some respite from his endless coughing.
"Go to Hogsmeade," Remus told them between coughing fits. "I don't want Lily mad at you because of me, James." He smiled crookedly and Sirius knew he appreciated the irony of that.
James looked uncertain. "It wouldn't take long –"
"I'm staying," Peter said.
"Me too," Sirius said.
"Try Gladrags first," Remus said.
"Okay." James ran from the room promising, "I'll be back soon."
Within half an hour Madame Pomfrey was back, and no amount of blandishing, no sudden extreme illness could induce her to let them stay. Remus's sheets, when they left, were strewn with a dozen petals – nine red, two white and one pink.
James snuck in two hours after he left, to bring Remus a colossal box of Chocolate Frogs and to show him Lily's present, a shawl made of the hair of the Follfum rabbits. It felt like the Invisibility Cloak but fluffier.
"Good choice," Remus told him. "Want a frog?"
* * *
Having heard from Madame Pomfrey that Remus would remain in the hospital wing through Monday for observation, Peter and Sirius brought a few things to make Remus feel more at home.
"Where's James?" asked Remus as his two friends struggled to hang the curtains from Remus's bed, which they'd smuggled out of the dormitory.
"With Lily, where else," Peter said. "Sirius, I think you got the wrong curtains."
"Howzat?" Sirius asked cheerily.
"These are yellow."
"Oh, well…" Sirius grinned. "You know I still hadn't gotten into the Hufflepuff dorms, and Remus, you would not believe how many girls were willing to give up their curtains for you."
"Don't tell me," said Remus. "How'm I supposed to sleep with these? It's like high noon."
"The Hufflepuffs manage, don't they?" Peter said.
"Oh, so you're sleeping again," Sirius said, mildly sarcastic. "Although if I had so many girls dribbling after me, I guess I wouldn't either –"
"Shut it," Remus said.
Sirius flinched.
"Remus," said Peter quickly, "what's all that?", pointing to the bedside table where cards hung magically suspended one above the other and candy boxes pooled at its foot.
"Oh, those," Remus said offhandedly. "Just some get-well wishes from about half the school. Did you tell everyone?"
His tone was light, teasing even, and Sirius smiled. "I told a few people, who told a few other people, who told everyone," he said.
"And you took all the credit, I suppose?"
"He said you'd been attacked by wild geese," Peter said matter-of-factly, "but today I heard someone saying you'd gotten Lyme disease and all your joints were frozen solid –"
"I heard you'd been bitten by a werewolf," Sirius sniggered.
Remus paled. "Who?"
"Dunno." Sirius shrugged, still laughing. "Looked like Slytherins to me."
"Good Lord – Snape."
They froze.
"He can't be getting back at you for that," Sirius yelped. "The whole incident was entirely my fault."
"No, it was my fault," Peter said. "Because remember, I said wouldn't it be funny if Snape got stuck in the Shrieking Shack and you said –"
"No, it was my fault," Remus said, still unnaturally pale. "Because I said yeah, sure, I'll rip him up for you and it won't even be me doing it –"
"Oh God, Remus," said Sirius, suddenly just as pale. "If James hadn't – you would have – and then the Ministry would have called you a murderer and a beast and put you into Azkaban, and it would have been my fault – they ought to put me in there for not thinking of that."
"You don't deserve it," Remus said. "No one does."
"Some people do, for some things," Peter said.
"Like what?" Sirius said with a dark look.
Peter flushed. "Nothing worse than standing guard for you when you were stealing all this for Remus."
"How terrible," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "You and Remus are so saintly, it's a wonder you associate with lowlifes like us."
"Oh, you can be saintly when it suits you," Remus said dryly.
Sirius flushed in his turn. "I stole something for you from the kitchens." He ducked and rummaged around in the Invisibility Cloak, which they'd borrowed from James. Actually Peter had gotten it out of his trunk and they had agreed that James wouldn't take it kindly if they'd interrupted him and Lily for a little thing like that.
"You shouldn't have," Remus said amusedly. "What is it?"
Sirius emerged holding a dish of ice cream. "I tried to put a Freezing Charm on it, but it didn't quite work –"
"He put it on me instead," Peter said.
"Oh, I wondered why you weren't moving your left hand."
"I made sure it was the kind you liked, too." Remus ate only banana-flavored ice cream for a reason that no one had figured out (the other three unanimously decided it tasted like baby food. How they knew what baby food tasted like was something Remus cared not to know).
"Sirius was forced to eat the triple-chocolate ice cream they brought out the first time," Peter said. "It was tragic."
"I set a new all-time record of three point seven seconds," Sirius bragged.
"And I thought three point nine was unbeatable," Peter said sadly.
"Thanks, you guys." Remus started in on the ice cream. "Madame Pomfrey doesn't understand the old-fashioned cure for sore throat nearly as well as you'd expect of a trained mediwitch."
"Er – Remus," said Sirius almost inaudibly. "About those wild geese– "
"Hey, Sirius," said Peter from under the bed. "I don't think Remus has enough yellow in here, do you?" He stood up grinning, holding a chamber pot.
"Oh for God's sake, Peter," grumbled Remus, "I can walk just as well as you –"
James burst in yelling, "Here's the invalid!", trailed by Lily who looked as though she'd gotten between a ravening sloth and its food.
"Oh shit," Sirius said to himself.
"What, Peter, too far to the bathroom?" James sniggered, then remembered that Lily was there and flushed madly.
"Hi, you two," Remus said. "Nice of you to come, but I really don't have room for any more presents." He grinned and if Sirius hadn't known that he'd flubbed up the potion, he might have thought that Remus was enjoying Lily's discomfiture; she was carefully looking anywhere but Remus.
He noticed it too. "Come on, Lily, this shouldn't be anything new for you," he said. "Surely James has gotten down to his boxers by now."
James looked ready to dismember something and Lily looked still more uncomfortable if possible.
Sirius said teasingly, "It's okay, Remus doesn't bite" – and stopped dead, looking as horrified as everyone else.
"Don't worry, she knows," Remus said quietly, not to Sirius.
Peter was about to say something, the question plain in his eyes but Lily interrupted, "I heard the rumors – do you think someone else knows?"
"Besides Snape? Hard to tell."
"Snape knows?"
"What," Sirius said grinning, "you mean James hasn't told you how he saved all our asses including Snape's?"
"James doesn't brag about himself," Lily said.
"Are we both talking about the same Mr. Potter here?" Sirius asked dramatically. "My darling Lily, James is a raving egomaniac –"
"No he isn't," she said furiously. "Don't you talk about James like that."
"Lily, they've known me since the beginning of time – er, first year actually, but don't you think –"
She whirled on James. "And you!"
No one said anything for several awkward seconds, then James said with false cheer, "Anyone up for a trip to the kitchens? I'm stealing."
"I'll come," said Peter.
"Then put down the sodding chamber pot."
"But it would look so classy on our dorm wall, don't you think?" said Peter happily.
"Fine, then transfigure the blasted thing at least."
"I've got to tell Remus something, so go ahead," Sirius said, shifty-eyed.
"Then behave," James trilled, leading the other two out.
"I think if he cheated on her twice a day she'd still smile and say welcome home, dinner's almost ready," Remus observed, equal parts bitterness and wonder.
"About the potion I'm sorry it didn't work," Sirius blurted.
"What?" Remus looked at Sirius for the first time that day and Sirius refused to meet his eyes.
"It wasn't supposed to do that," he said.
"It worked fine anyway."
"What?"
Remus shrugged. "I was up all night coughing and I had a series of revelations, okay?"
"Like what?"
"Lots of stuff. Lily and I were never meant to be, mostly. And Snape isn't such a bad guy either."
"An Objectivity Potion," Sirius said gleefully. "Once I get the bugs out of it, I'll be rich. May I?" He was already halfway through a box of Every Flavor Beans, so Remus didn't see the sense in replying. "Who's that from?" he added, pointing at a multicolored rose.
"You."
Sirius went Gryffindor scarlet. "I know James thinks you and I are a little odd, but honestly, Remus, I –"
"You didn't think I got rid of all those petals, did you? It just took some magic to make them stick together."
"Don't tell me you hacked up the stem too," Sirius said interestedly.
"Er – actually I transfigured a pipe cleaner."
"Your secret is safe with me," Sirius said. "Mind if I tell everyone it's from that first-year Slytherin that tripped over your bag in Great Hall last week?"
"Actually, Sirius –"
"Cheers," he said, leaping from the room slightly ahead of Madame Pomfrey.
Later that day Dumbledore came to visit Remus, who asked for and received his prefect badge back.
"What a lovely rose," Dumbledore remarked.
"It's from Sally Ann Struthers," Remus said solemnly.
"That was quite a tumble she took the other day, wasn't it?"
When Dumbledore had gone, Remus discovered that he could laugh without his throat flaming. It was a wonderful feeling.
* * *
Christmas was fast approaching and Great Hall was drifted with pristine snow that never melted and, as James and Sirius soon discovered, made fantastic snowballs. Returning from detention on their final evening at Hogwarts, Sirius and James raced each other up to the dormitory, where Remus and Peter and presents awaited.
Even by their usual standards, the room looked incredible. The chamber pot was overflowing with Christmas tree ornaments, the four sets of yellow curtains (Remus assumed that Sirius must have struck some sort of deal with the Hufflepuffs) were decked out with tinsel, and a superb blue spruce, hung with twinkling rainbow lights and Honeydukes' finest, was suspended upside-down from the ceiling. Sirius had gotten the idea from the Muggles, but everyone agreed that it was much more impressive without wires and such. Remus had naturally done most of the spell researching while James was off with Lily, Peter was exploring the Quidditch section of the library and Sirius was trying to transfigure his quill into a banana, but the end result was well worth a day of his life.
"Back so soon?" Remus said as James and Sirius rushed in.
"McG let us off early," James said, pulling off his tie and pitching it into a corner.
"Joy to the world and all that," Sirius said through a mouthful of chocolate. "Shall we get started?"
Traditionally, the four friends exchanged gifts on their last night at Hogwarts because they all spent Christmas with their families (except for the memorable year when Peter had been so angry at his mother for bleaching his special Gryffindor championship T-shirt that he refused to go home for Christmas; the other three agreed to stay too, and ended up doing a great deal of critical research for their pet project at the time, the Marauder's Map). It would have been simple enough to send each other packages over break, but this was one of their traditions and as such, inviolable, even if none of them could quite remember how or why it had begun.
"So what're you getting from your parents, Peter?" asked James. "Here, Sirius, this one's from me."
Sirius began to rip it open as Peter replied, "Hopefully a decent broomstick."
"What's wrong with
yours?" Remus wanted to know; Peter's top-of-the-line Pineapple Blossom 253 was
only two and a half years old, a fifteenth birthday present from his parents.
"It's getting kind of wobbly, and the turns aren't what they used to be," Peter said. "I was reading through some Quidditch magazines and I'm kind of hoping for a Hibiscus Blossom."
"Peter, that's the same exact broom with a different colored handle," James snapped.
"But the 317 model just came out last month."
"A stoplight-shaped lamp – how on earth did you know I wanted one?" Sirius asked.
James shrugged. "You talk a lot in your sleep."
"Do I?" Sirius blanched. "What other incriminating things have I been saying?"
"Last night you dreamed you were taking a bath in Pétillant Potion," Remus said.
Sirius scowled. "Only a Frenchman would invent such a thing. What earthly good does it do to make liquid bubble?"
"You seemed to be enjoying it," Remus said.
"Yes, well – here you go." Sirius tossed each of them a lumpy package messily wrapped with lots of tape and animated snowflake wrapping paper. "Might as well open them all at once."
James was the quickest; he pulled out a green, blue and white crocheted afghan. "Don't tell me you made this," he said, starting to giggle.
Remus unfolded his, a firework design in red, orange and black. "Sirius, how in heaven's name did you learn to crochet?"
Sirius looked sulky. "Remember when you locked me in the library overnight?"
"Sirius, that was only two months ago, of course I remember."
"I learned a lot of useful spells in there, including how to enchant a crochet hook, and, well…" Sirius shrugged.
"But did you learn your lesson?"
"Never ever mess with Remus's homework," Sirius recited.
"Excellent." Remus beamed at him. "James, get a hold of yourself," he added.
James was lying helpless on the floor, sobbing with silent laughter. "Sirius can crochet," he choked out at last, and he was off again.
"So? I'm sure anyone could," Peter said.
"I'd like to see you try," Sirius retorted. "It's much harder than it looks."
"Is that when you learned that shielding spell? I'd really like to learn it sometime," Remus interrupted.
"Whenever you want," Sirius said, grateful for the distraction.
James sat up at last, wiping his eyes. "Sirius," he said, still laughing a little, "some things you don't want to know about your friends, and that is one of them."
"Oh, you seemed to enjoy hearing about it," Sirius said, crossing his arms.
"Ah, Sirius, don't be mad. It's lovely, but –"
"But what?" Sirius asked crossly.
"My great-grandmother crochets," James howled.
"So does my mother – are you insulting her?"
"No he isn't," Remus interrupted. "James, I think you ought to open my present now."
"With pleasure," he said, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes before tearing open the package. Inside was a single playing card – the king of hearts, with the caption James.
"What the –"
James reached down to pick up the card, but as soon as he touched it, the glamour dissolved, and he held a brand-new pack of self-shuffling Exploding Snap cards.
"Hey, thanks," James said. "Now I've got cards again."
"I'm really sorry about that," Remus said. "I honestly thought you were cheating."
"No big deal," James said. "But how did you know about – er, the king of hearts?"
"Well, I couldn't sleep one night so I came down to the common room to read, and fell asleep on one of the couches. Then when you guys came in I woke up –"
"Without saying anything?" James demanded.
"I was still half asleep, but just awake enough to hear what you guys were saying."
"Oh dear Lord," James said, putting his face in his hands.
"Crocheting doesn't seem quite so bad not, does it?" Remus said, smiling innocently.
James looked at Sirius. "Sorry."
Sirius shrugged. "Don't worry about it."
Remus summoned a package from the bottom of the pile. "For you, Peter," tossing it to him.
Peter turned it over in his hands a few times, listening to it rattle, before pulling off the paper. "Insta-Ill," he read from the package. "Gives you all the symptoms of flu without that pesky discomfort."
"In case you need to get out of History of Magic," Remus said, smiling.
"Hey, thanks!"
Peter gave James and Sirius each a scarlet wool cloak; James's had "Gryffindor Beater & Captain" embroidered in gold on the back, and Sirius's "Gryffindor Water Boy," which delighted him no end. James gave Peter Follfum-fur earmuffs, so he'd stop complaining about wind in his ears during practice. Peter gave Remus a bottle of emerald green ink that glimmered gold in the light. Remus gave Sirius an extra-large aluminum cauldron, "so you can make me some of that Sommeilleure potion," he teased. ("Those Frenchmen," Sirius said again.) James gave Remus a copy of So You Want to Make Someone's Life Miserable.
When they had finished unwrapping presents, they stretched out, kicking the wrapping paper aside, and talked about their Christmas wishes.
"So what are you guys going to do with vacation?" Remus asked, summoning a foil-wrapped chocolate from the tree. "Just bum around and play with your new toys?"
"Mum and I, we'll probably toast bread over the fire and talk about her latest job and life companion," James said. He was an only child, his father having run off when James was twelve, with a backup singer for the hottest wizarding group at the time, The Milligans. His mother was an Irish Muggle with frizzy red hair and a strong dislike of the wizarding world for having produced her former husband.
"Bringing Lily home to meet your mum?" Sirius teased.
James flushed. "Actually, yes. She's coming for a few days at the end of break. How about you?"
"Oh, I'll probably get railroaded into a few concerts. You know how the parents can be about cultural stuff. Mum figures if she has to be a Muggle, she'll be the most enlightened one she can." Sirius's father was a Muggle and his mother a Squib; Sirius only saw his wizarding grandparents once a year, and his mother never did.
"I want Mum and Dad to take me to a Quidditch game," Peter said. "Preferably the nationals." Peter's family was thirteen generations of pure-blooded wizards, and his father held an important and lucrative job at the Gringotts branch in Edinburgh. His was the kind of family that could afford to purchase a brand-new Hibiscus Blossom and tickets to a Quidditch game without straining their Gringotts account.
Remus gave the ceiling a twisted smile. "I know you're all too polite to ask about my break, so I'll spare you the details." The other three knew very well that his parents would probably not say a dozen words to Remus during the whole vacation. He had ceased to exist to them when he was four years old. His older brother Steve, a broomstick salesman in London, was in his parents' eyes their only child; Remus was barely even their legal son. He remembered the day they had taken him to London, to the Department of Magical Births and Deaths, to have his name legally changed when he was eleven years old. He had picked out his new name, something almost no one had the chance to do. Lupin, a hint for those who knew their languages. Remus, because the mythological one had been suckled by a wolf, and because he had been the brother who'd gotten screwed over. He had signed his new name with the quill that recorded the birth of a magical child, and from then on he had no longer been a part of his own family.
Remus rose unsteadily. "I'll be right back – going to the bathroom." The door shuddered closed behind him.
"I wish he'd come spend Christmas with one of us," Sirius muttered. "That family of his –"
James's jaw jutted out in anger. "No child of mine will ever be treated like that, I don't care if he's an ogre."
The Christmas lights made multicolored constellations of the darkened room. "At least he's got us," Sirius said.
"We aren't going to desert him for what he is," James added.
Sirius stared at the twinkling lights he had hung for them. "Merry Christmas, Remus," he said softly.