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Chapter Two: Les Chenilles et Les Papillons
What happens: Remus's first year at Hogwarts. He learns new things and makes new friends. Just read to find out!
Main Characters: Remus J. Lupin, Sirius Black
Subsidiary Characters: James Potter, Lilly Evans, Peter Pettigrew; Professor Voldemort; Etienne Ibert
Couples You Will Find In This Fic (Whether You Like It Or Not): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin; James Potter/Lilly Evans; a hint or two of Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape; other relationships of both a homosexual and heterosexual nature
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to Lins, who continually rekindles my joy of SiriusxRemus whenever I am losing it.
This is: chapter two of a work in progress. Like all my works in progress, it is possible that you will be waiting a very long time between installments, or they could come out daily in a psychotic and rather frightening fashion. Do Not Worry! Just take it as it comes, and feel free to send me demanding fan mail (all demanding fan mail should be sent to IremusJLupin@aol.com) if you feel you've been waiting an egregiously long time. Demanding fan mail is annoying sometimes, but on the whole it makes me feel incredibly cool. And that's what it's all about, right? Oh yes. And I am also constantly updating chapters that have already been uploaded, whenever I find a hideous spelling error or a problem with grammar. So check back often.
C&C: is demanded. Or, you know, desperately longed for, in a rather pathetic sense. Just gimme some of that good ol' fashioned R&R, and let me know you actually do want to see more of my work.
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Chapter Two: Les Chenilles et Les Papillons
Without a creak and without a moment's pause, the great door swung wide open. Standing in the doorway was a tall, rail-thin man with a shadowed face. For a moment, he seemed menacing enough to cause even Remus to shiver. Then his edges softened, and he stepped backwards, beckoning for the group of first-years to follow.
"Now," he said, upon leading them into a chamber off the hall, "welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor Voldemort, and I do hope that your stay at Hogwarts will be as pleasant for you as it is honorable. The start-of-term banquet shall begin momentarily, but before you can take your seats in the Great Hall, you must first be sorted into your houses. The four houses are known as Slytherin, Griffyndor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and your house shall be almost like your family, here at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house; you shall sleep in your house dormitory; your free time shall be spent in your house common room. No one house is better than another. Each has its own admirable history, and each has produced its fair share of honorable witches and wizards. During your stay at Hogwarts, moments of excellence shall be rewarded not only upon a personal level, but on a house level as well; you will earn house points with individual triumphs. Naturally, if you are found breaking any rules, you shall bring shame not only upon yourself but upon your house as well, and house points shall be lost. At the end of the year, the house with the most points shall be awarded the house cup. I am sure that every one of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." Professor Voldemort licked his lips and smiled benevolently. He was, Remus decided, like a very friendly snake. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly. You shan't have to wait too long." He turned on his heel and marched out, robes billowing behind him.
"Seems nice enough," Sirius murmured to Remus, whose skin was crawling, as if someone had walked over his future grave.
"Yes," Remus said, "seems."
A few achingly long minutes passed, and at last the Professor returned. "Form a line," he instructed, "and follow me." There was no scramble over who wanted to be first. Finally, the blond boy Remus recognized as Lucius stepped up boldly to the front. Sirius tensed and then shoved his way forward, James right behind him. Remus heard someone next to him sigh with deep but resigned aggravation.
"Boys," Lilly Evans scoffed. "Come on. Can't let them have all the glory, now can we?" She grabbed Remus's hand and pulled him forward.
"That's more like it," Professor Voldemort encouraged with a full smile. He might have fooled most people, but Remus's hairs prickled on the back of his neck and he shuddered, goosebumps thankfully hidden beneath his robes. "There we are. Now, follow me. Of all you have to worry about, here at Hogwarts, the Sorting Ceremony is the least important." Professor Voldemort's robes billowed out around his ankles as he led them all out of the small chamber, down a twisting hall, and at last through the double doors, into the Great Hall.
Remus had to shade his eyes from the golden light that flooded the place. He felt half comforted and half exposed. In a throng of people like this he was the sort of person who panicked, but something about the warmth of the room told him he was safe. He wasn't afraid of the Sorting Ceremony because he barely knew what it was. He didn't have to care about what house he was put in, or why. What happened would happen.
What he did mind was feeling as if a thousand eyes were focused on him.
Professor Voldemort solemnly put a stool in front of the first-years, placing a pointed wizard's hat on top of it. The hat was certainly a disappointment. It looked quite the worse for wear.
Remus wanted to ask 'what's that old thing for?' but felt somewhat of a fool for not knowing. There was an anticipatory tension in the air, and silence fell over the Great Hall. It seemed as if everything in the room was drawing to a wonderful climax. The hat twitched, and in an oddly comical moment, a rip just above the brim opened, almost like a mouth. Remus's own mouth nearly fell open as the hat began to sing. He didn't catch all of it, but the part that stuck with him happened close to the beginning of the song:
"There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be..."
It felt as if those lines were meant solely for him. They pierced his chest and made him tremble, shaking him so that he barely heard the rest of the song. What if the Sorting Hat saw what he was? What if it could discover everything?
What if this ended before it began?
Professor Voldemort produced a long strip of parchment paper from his robes. Without having to clear his throat his voice rang out, loud and crystalline. "Ambrose, Eulalia." A girl removed herself from the line and hopped up onto the stool, fitting the Sorting Hat onto her head. Remus paid no attention.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" There was cheering, but it was muted in Remus's senses.
"Abbott, Ellen," Proffessor Voldemort said. A moment later,
"RAVENCLAW!" the Sorting Hat cried out. The cheering, though louder this time, still fell on Remus's half-deaf ears.
"Black, Sirius," Professor Voldemort went on. Remus lifted his eyes, and watched the familiar boy stride confidently over to the stool. He pulled the hat on. A few moments passed, in which Remus found himself caring half-heartedly, at least paying attention.
"GRYFFINDOR!" The cheers that burst forth from the Gryffindor tables suited Sirius's nature perfectly. It was impossible to imagine he wasn't made for such applause, the way he swaggered bravely over to the table, all eyes on him.
The rest of the names between 'Black' and 'Lupin' passed by in a blur of house names and cheers. The only one he took any notice of was "Evans, Lilly" -- she joined Sirius at the Gryffindor table. By the time they reached "Longbottom, Frank," Remus was paying attention, worrying at his lower lip.
"Lupin, Remus." It wasn't that he disliked Professor Voldemort's voice. It was a voice that could potentially be very likable. Remus had simply learned from a very young age that things you liked, loved even, were not things you automatically trusted. So it wasn't that he liked or disliked Voldemort's voice, just that he didn't fully trust it.
Remus stepped forward. He had no confident swagger like Sirius, but it wouldn't have looked right on him anyway. He was self-possessed, too wise and too old for his years to strut. His face was set in determined lines.
He would not let the Sorting Hat know.
He swung himself up onto the stool and felt the hat go down over his eyes. There were eyes on him, and not being able to see them didn't mean he couldn't feel them.
"Well, well, well," said a small voice into his ear. It took all the finely tuned control he had not to jump. "You're strong. Hiding a lot of things, but you can't hide them from me!"
Please, Remus thought. Please.
"Please what?"
Don't tell anyone what I am.
"You don't know what you are, yet," the small voice said. "How do you expect me to know?"
You said... But it made sense to him. How was this supposed to decide for him where he went if he himself had no idea where it was he wanted to be? Three days ago he hadn't even known this place existed. It wasn't as if he had any friends. There was Sirius, who had been very nice, but he was probably just being kind. James and Lilly were only decent to him because of Sirius's kindness. Wherever he went, whichever house he was sent to, he wouldn't belong. Part of him wanted to, so badly. Part of him wanted to be the hero, knowing just how to jump into a situation and fix everything. But that wasn't who he was.
I want to be strong.
"Well," the Hat said. "GRYFFINDOR!" The cheering surged up in Remus's ears as he slipped down from the stool. He kept his eyes on his feet as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. The eyes on him made his skin crawl.
"Oi, Remus!" His ears caught his own name and almost tried to swivel before he lifted his head, searching out the owner of that familiar voice. Sirius was waving urgently to catch his attention, beckoning him over. Remus hesitated, and then changed course, trotting over to sit beside him. "Now we just have to wait for James."
Sirius was, Remus realized, the type of person who was always very confident. He felt strangely envious.
Lucius Malfoy was the only name between his own and James's that Remus recognized. The blond boy was sent to the Slytherin table, where he settled down between two meaty boys Remus didn't recognize. The rest of the names and the houses went by in a blur, and it was no surprise to Remus when "Potter, James" was followed by "GRYFFINDOR" and a resounding cheer throughout the Great Hall. He had gotten the impression from the way Sirius and James had acted on the train that where one boy went the other followed, no matter what.
After "Zabini, Maeve" was sent to the Slytherin table and the last of the cheers had died down, Professor Voldemort removed the Sorting Hat and the man Sirius and James had called Albus Dumbledore, the new headmaster. Unlike Professor Voldemort, Dumbledore's face wasn't overly likable. It was easy to read the emotions on his face and therefore Remus didn't just like him but trusted him, too.
"Welcome!" he cried out, looking genuinely glad to see the throng of students before him. "Welcome especially to all you first years -- we're rather in the same boat, after all! I won't keep you waiting to eat any longer. Thank you!" He sat and there was more clapping and cheering.
Yes, Remus decided. Much more trustworthy.
The meal wasn't something he paid much attention to. He had never eaten much anyway, and though this was more food than he had ever seen in his lifetime, he wasn't feeling particularly hungry. Sirius and James ate like wild animals, or two eleven year old boys. In all the excitement, no one was checking to see what Remus himself ate, or how much. The most he ate was a whole chocolate truffle tart. He'd found he had a sweet tooth for anything made with the dark, rich confection, after all.
At last it was time for bed. The head of Gryffindor house was Professor McGonagall, a young woman with dark hair pulled back into a tight librarian's bun. Sirius made a face behind her back the first chance he got.
"Come along," she said, clasping her hands before her and moving off like a steamboat.
"What good luck we've got," Sirius griped as he and the rest of the Gryffindors stood to follow her. Remus folded his napkin neatly and set it down on his seat, turning to follow.
"Remus?" A hand was placed on his shoulder and Remus froze. "Didn't mean to startle you -- I'm Professor Dumbledore. We should probably talk, before you turn in, mm?"
"All right."
"To my office, then."
"All right." Dumbledore removed the hand from Remus's shoulder and trotted off, leaving Remus to regain his composure and follow.
"Now," Dumbledore began, once he and Remus were both seated in his office, "I have made certain arrangements in preparation for your stay here."
"Thank you."
"No need, no need, my boy; I just thought perhaps we might like to talk these arrangements over, see how satisfactory they are." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, hopefully searching Remus's face.
"All right."
"The only ones who will know about the nights of the full moon will be me and the nurse at the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey. You'll meet her shortly." Remus nodded and Dumbledore when on. "On the day of the full moon you'll be taken out of classes early to the location where you shall spend the night. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the place." Again, Remus bobbed his head, slipping down from the chair that had dwarfed him. Dumbledore led him out of the school and into the dark night. There was a forest by the building and Remus shrank away from it, placing the Professor's body between his own and the trees.
They stopped at the edge of the woods, by a great willow tree whose branches struck out angrily at any who came near. Dumbledore hefted in his hand a long stick from the grass and poked thoughtfully at the trunk of the willow, until he struck a knob and the branches froze.
"This is the Whomping Willow," Dumbledore explained, "and the passage to where you'll be spending those nights is right through that entrance over there. Go on. We'll both of us have a look." Remus stepped forward to the hollow at the base of the tree. He hesitated for a moment, and then bent over to crawl inside. Dumbledore was behind him and Remus's instincts were telling him not to leave his back so exposed. Quickly he quelled that feeling, his knowledge overpowering his gut feelings.
The passage opened up finally into a room. Remus straightened, brushing off his worn robes, then falling still.
"This is it," Dumbledore said cheerily.
"What if I get out?" Remus turned around, brow creasing thoughtfully. "The passage is big enough for you, it's big enough..." He didn't finish.
"There's a second floor," Dumbledore explained. "If we shut the door up there, it should keep you in."
"Back home," Remus said softly, "we had a cage." It wasn't that he'd liked the cage. It made the animal in him feel trapped. But the part of him that was human felt safe, as if by locking himself in he was locking the world out.
"No student of mine is being put in a cage," Dumbledore murmured.
"All right." Silence fell between them for a few seconds. Remus broke it by stepping further into the room, towards the flight of stairs.
"Of course," Dumbledore said hurriedly, "the upstairs. After you." Remus climbed the creaky steps, each creak from his own feet followed by one from Dumbledore's.
The upstairs room was empty save for a large, four poster bed in the middle of the room. Remus looked from it to Dumbledore, and the headmaster shrugged.
"Now that you've seen it," he said, after giving Remus some time to inspect the place, "you'd best be getting into bed. I'll take you back to Gryffindor house myself." They went back down the stairs and crawled out of the willow into the night. Dumbledore prodded the knot in the wood once more and the branches went wild, clawing at the air left in their wake. The night was beautiful, the stars twinkling on and off in the sky. Remus lifted his eyes to glance at them, and then practically kept his eyes ahead of himself so that he wouldn't trip over any root or rock in his path. Dumbledore kept his arms folded over his chest. They didn't speak to each other, but the headmaster watched the boy intently from the corners of his bright eyes. Remus walked solidly, both feet firmly on the ground, his untrimmed hair falling carelessly into his eyes.
He looked too rooted for the magic of the grounds at night. His small hands were clenched into fists but the rest of his body was relaxed, as if there were specifications to what he was fighting for control over.
Back inside the castle, the odd look had disappeared. He seemed like any other shy child might, quiet and withdrawn. It didn't seem to bother him, the way the stairs switched destinations and the halls wound on without direction. He had no doubt that he would get to where he was going.
"Well," Dumbledore said as they stopped in front of a picture of a slumbering, plump woman in a very large, very pink dress. "Here we are." He coughed, and the woman shifted, snorting very demurely in her sleep. He coughed louder, and she awoke, spluttering a bit.
"Well, well, well? What is it? What's the matter?!" Remus tilted his head to the side. The painting was not only moving, but speaking to them, as well.
"Lizard Lips," Dumbledore said, very patiently. The woman in the painting made a sour sort of face, and the door beside her swung open.
"On with you, then," she grumbled, flopping over and closing her eyes.
"Now," Dumbledore said, before he turned away. "Your things should be next to your bed. Get some sleep. Tomorrow's your first day, after all." He smiled widely, and then trotted off, leaving Remus alone to make his way through a large, dark room and up a flight of stairs, where at last he stepped into the room he'd been seeking. Rows and rows of wonderfully comfortable looking four-poster beds were set up, all the canopies drawn. He could hear the sounds of snores coming from some of them, which meant that most of the other Gryffindors were already asleep.
Determined, he padded to the only bed whose canopy hadn't yet been drawn shut. His shabby suitcase had been placed on the mattress, next to the rest of his things. Without even bothering to change into his pajamas, he slipped into bed and curled up, falling asleep a moment later.
He slept deeply and had only one dream. He was running through the forest behind Hogwarts, the trees forming a tunnel over his head. They hummed to him, a song he half-remembered and still half-loved. It was a foggy night. Above him, he couldn't see the moon. Suddenly, the clouds had cleared, and that full, pale shape shone through. His hands and feet were suddenly paws, and he was bounding across the earth for some spot of freedom far ahead of him. Beside him, he felt another body, shaggy and warm, but he didn't think it was another wolf. There was something about it that was very familiar, and something about it that he knew he needed to explore further. But all he could do was continue to thunder forward, towards whatever it was he wanted so badly.
When he woke in the morning, the forest's hold on him was too weak to force him to remember his dreams.
The first few days flew by so rapidly that Remus could barely remember a single event in any of them. His schedule was filled with class after class, giving him workloads he surprisingly didn't mind. For the first time in his life, Remus was introduced to the brand new concept of homework, which didn't bother him at all, though Sirius and James spent all their free time complaining about it.
In the greenhouses behind the castle, Professor Sprout taught them Herbology. Professor Binns taught History of Magic in a stuffy classroom, putting many to sleep. The Charms teacher was Professor Flitwick, a tiny young man who stood on a pile of books in order to see his students over his desk. Transfiguration was taught by Professor McGonagall, who, though she was incredibly strict, made the subject as fascinating as it could be, though the students had to start small. Potions was taught by Professor Voldemort, who was a good teacher, though he still gave Remus the creeps.
After the first few days, Remus no longer felt left behind. At least five other first years had been raised as 'muggles' all their lives, and were just beginning to understand what being a witch or a wizard entailed. Remus himself immediately showed promise in most of his subjects, working diligently both in and out of class. He kept away from the other students, withdrawing to his bed after classes to do his homework, read for an hour or two, and then go to sleep.
The one class he dreaded from the start was Potions. He didn't just have the class with the other Gryffindor first-years, but with the Slytherin first-years, as well. Among their numbers were Lucius Malfoy and his two friends, known only as Crabbe and Goyle, as well as a thin, sallow boy with greasy hair who was called Severus Snape. The four of them hated Sirius, sharing Lucius's grudge from Platform 9 and 3/4, but chose to torture Remus, because he never fought back. They did little things, such as spilling a vial of bats' eyes on his books, or knocking into his desk, or tripping him accidentally, and never got caught. Remus played it down so that no one would notice. The last thing he needed was Sirius getting into trouble because of him.
A week passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. Remus sat in a window seat in the Gryffindor Common Room, curled around a book. He read with a hunger and passion he didn't show elsewhere in his life, eyes running eagerly over every word. A few feet away, seated around a low table, Sirius and James were doing their History of Magic assignment.
"I can't believe this," Sirius grumbled, flipping through a huge, ancient book, "who cares about these people?"
"Well," James groaned, "apparently Professor Binns does."
"Professor Binns doesn't care about anything. He's about as dead as Emeric the Evil is!" Remus felt like flattening his ears, until he remembered he couldn't. He shifted, blocking out the sound of their laughter, and plunged back into his book. Everything was gloriously silent for a few minutes, until someone tapped him on the shoulder and he whirled around, snapping his book shut. "Didn't mean to startle you," Sirius mumbled sheepishly, tugging his hand back. "Just...wondering if you could help us...with the History of Magic essay. Since, you know, you handed yours in yesterday, and..."
Remus blinked. "You want my help?"
"Of course," Sirius said, running his fingers through his hair as he grinned lopsidedly. "I mean-- you're the smartest one in the class, Remus. You actually-- know what Professor Binns is going on about."
"Oh." Remus blinked again. "All right." He set his book down and stood, stretching his cramping muscles. "What part are you stuck on?"
"The first sentence," James moaned, lifting his head as the other two approached.
"I see," Remus murmured, his voice wry.
"Sit down," Sirius advised, pulling up another chair. "This'll probably be a while." Remus obeyed, moving the book closer with one hand, and the parchment James and Sirius had been working on in the other. After giving their work a preliminary glance, he folded the top pieces of parchment in half and shoved them aside.
"Hey!" James exclaimed. "We worked hard on that--"
"It was very bad," Remus stated simply.
"It really was," Sirius agreed. A moment later he flashed a weak, apologetic grin.
"I know," James admitted, frowning half-heartedly. "So? What do you suggest?"
"First of all," Remus explained, taking up a quill, "you need to put what information you have down in an outline."
"But we don't have any information," Sirius lamented. Remus gave him a slightly puzzled look. "What?" Sirius grumbled. "That book isn't even written in English, it's impossible to get through a single sentence!"
"Not if you can read," Remus murmured.
"Was that an insult?" Sirius sputtered. He wasn't angry, just incredulous.
"I think so," James said, hiding a smile behind his sleeve. Sirius choked, and then burst into laughter, James joining him in an instant. Remus's lips twitched oddly. Still laughing, Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Remus didn't feel as if it was an intrusion, nor did he feel like turning around to snap the boy's fingers off with his teeth. He ducked his head down and let his lips curve up into a smile. They parted, and a laugh, rusty and threadbare, jingled shakily forth. It grew stronger, more vibrant, as the three of them laughed harder and longer.
Sirius thought it was the strangest and most wonderful sound he'd ever heard.
The next day, Double Potions with the Slytherins was first period. Remus waited until Lucius and his friends had taken their seats, and then took his own place strategically across the room from them. If he could just avoid trouble, he figured, everything would be just fine. He sat down quietly and took out his things, setting up as efficiently as he could. He wasn't expecting the tap on his shoulder, or the familiar voice in his ear.
"Morning, Remus." Remus cringed slightly under the touch, but softened when he recognized Sirius's faintly accented tones.
"Good morning."
"Look, I was just wondering..." Sirius shifted uncomfortably, running his fingers through his hair, carefully keeping his eyes everywhere but on Remus's face.
"Yes?"
"You see, James sort of wanted to be paired up with Lilly," Sirius went on, rolling his eyes, "you know how the boy's all soft in the head about that girl, but that sort of left me out in the mud, y'know? 'Cause today we're picking partners, and all."
"I see."
"And I was just wondering if maybe you wouldn't mind, too much, that is, if I," he focused on an empty vial and fingered it nervously, "if I might..."
"You'd make quite a mess with James," Remus murmured thoughtfully. It was probably a very good thing that James and Lilly would be working together, rather than James and Sirius. The trouble they'd cause would be immeasurable.
"I'm always making quite a mess with James," Sirius mumbled miserably.
"Yes, you are."
"Well, there you have it. He's already setting up with Lilly, but I'll just--"
"Where are your things?"
"What?" Sirius blinked, startled out of some rambling nightmare he'd created in his head. "What things?"
"Your books and your notes. You'll need them if we're going to work together."
"Work tog-- right. Right, of course, they're just-- over there. I'll go-- get them. I'll only take a moment." With a grin and an overdramatized sigh of relief, Sirius sped off to gather up his things and deposit them unceremoniously on what was now his and Remus's desk. Remus looked up and nodded, smiling hesitantly. Sirius may not have been a fantastic student, but he was much better at smiling than Remus was.
"Now," Remus said, "the first thing we needed was--" A large crash cut him off. Goyle had shoved his rather bulky way through the narrow space between Maeve Zabini's and Crabbe's desk and Remus's and Sirius's own, and had seemingly miscalculated how much room he had. The shards of glass from two broken beakers were scattered over the floor beneath Remus's books and Sirius's mortar and pestle. Remus winced and pulled back, ducking his head down in that way he had. It reminded Sirius suddenly of the wolfhound pup he and his brother had raised back home, whenever it was trying to prove its subservience to another, bigger dog.
Sirius's lip curled back, and something angry emerged from the back of his throat in what sounded strangely like a snarl.
"Oops," said Goyle slowly, a big smile plastered on his wide face. "Was an accident."
"Right," Sirius snapped, voice tensed with anger, "and I'm the bloody king of France."
"It was an accident," Remus said, softly.
"You see?" Goyle said, clasping his two dish-plate sized hands together in a sign of peace that seemed as familiar to Goyle as cracking heads would be to Ghandi. "An accident."
"What has happened over here?" Professor Voldemort had come up to them and was hovering over the situation like a great dark shadow. Remus bent down, scraping up the broken glass into one small pile, making sure he didn't have to look up into that face. He could feel the man's form over him like a total eclipse, looming and omnipresent.
"Knocked into the desk," Goyle mumbled under his breath.
"Really," Voldemort sighed, shaking his head, "be more careful next time." He swept off, escorting Goyle personally back to his desk. Remus straightened, books clutched tightly to his chest.
"You let him get away with it," Sirius hissed accusingly, wrenching Remus's books from his arms and slamming them down onto the table. Remus lifted his thumb to his lips, hiding a cut against them, and then went back to the instructions for the simple practice potion they were supposed to be mixing.
"Two ounces powdered--"
"Are you listening to me?!"
"Not really, no," Remus replied honestly. "I'm trying to mix these ingredients correctly."
"And I'm trying to talk to you! You can't let people treat you that way!"
"You're very loud."
Sirius growled and then lowered his voice, bringing his face very close to Remus's own.
"You let them walk all over you. You can't let them do that!"
"Yes," Remus said, "I can." Sirius was so outraged he was struck speechless. "Hand me that vial over there, the one that's all green." No response. Remus moved past Sirius and got it for himself, then went back to their cauldron.
"Why? Why don't you do something about it?"
"Because it's really a lot easier not to," Remus said truthfully, after a moment's pause. "Help me get this stopper out?" Remus half expected the other boy to scream in aggravation. It was a testament to Sirius's will-power, however little he had of it, that he instead took the vial in his hand and worked the cork out vehemently. "Thank you," Remus said.
The rest of the class was spent in silence. Remus half felt as if he should apologize, but he didn't know for what. He hadn't done anything wrong. He barely knew why Sirius was angry. Sirius could do with himself as he pleased, and Remus could do the same. It was all very simple, as Remus saw it. So why, then, was Sirius so angry?
After class Sirius stormed off, leaving Remus to stay a minute late in the classroom cleaning up. As he turned to go, he found both Crabbe and Goyle standing before him, Lucius between them and a few steps back.
"Funny," Lucius said, with a nasty edge to his voice, "how many accidents a person can have in one day. Don't you think so, Lupin?" Crabbe reached out his hands, wrenching Remus's books from his hands.
"Oops," he said cheerfully.
"How very careless of you, Crabbe," Lucius scolded, looking just as cheerful, but a lot meaner.
"Sorry," Crabbe said, throwing the books across the room.
"You must be more careful next time, Crabbe," Lucius continued, shaking his head with an emotion that was trying to emulate disappointment without ever having seen it before.
"I'm late to my next class," Remus said. He didn't feel angry. He felt patient, as if he could just wait for this to pass, pick up his things, and go on to his next class. It didn't pay to get angry or even annoyed at such things. People like Lucius Malfoy tired very easily of their playthings, and moved on just as quickly.
"Are you? That's just terrible -- isn't it terrible, Goyle?" Goyle stepped forward, nodding slowly and deliberately as if even that were a complex task. Remus bowed his head, hugging himself and let the boy come at him. "I'm sure you can explain to the professor that you've had-- an accident." Remus steeled himself, averting his eyes. If you made eye contact, it was taken as confrontational.
"An accident," Goyle echoed. Crabbe chuckled softly, ponderously.
"Well," said Sirius, as he brought one of Remus's heavier textbooks down on the back of Goyle's head, "accidents happen. Isn't that a shame." Remus looked up immediately and caught Sirius flashing him a wink.
It was like fire in his chest. He didn't know what to make of it. He didn't know why it was so strong. He didn't know what the sweetness in his veins was, or how it made his heart pound.
Crabbe came at Sirius as Goyle toppled over like the Tower of Babel. Sirius tossed another book at him as a distraction and, ducking beneath his huge fists, moved to interpose himself between Remus and Lucius. The blond boy's face was the color of a ripe tomato. This was obviously not the sort of 'accident' that made him and his friends laugh together.
"Why are you doing this?" Remus asked Sirius Black, his voice hushed.
"Because you're not," Sirius replied.
"Enough of this," Lucius spat out, once Goyle had gotten his bearings and had moved to do as Sirius had.
"Why don't you fight as much as you talk, Malfoy," Sirius returned, just as vehemently.
"We'll see who should be giving out the orders, Black." Lucius gave Goyle a shove, and he obediently plowed forward, swinging a fist that Sirius easily ducked. Remus bit his lower lip, and then crawled back a few steps, picking up his scattered books without taking his eyes off the fight. Sirius was landing his punches, but they certainly weren't very effective. Goyle wasn't laying a finger on Sirius, but if he did, the fight would have been over in an instant.
Behind them both, Lucius was tugging out his wand and training it on Sirius's back.
Remus faltered. That thing was hot inside him, like danger and the forest at night. The wolf got angry enough for both of them, but Remus only knew what anger was the same way he knew about Narnia and all those 'Once Upon A Times' he'd read. Heroes got angry; people like Sirius got angry.
He dropped all but one of his books and scrambled a few steps forward, moving past Goyle and Sirius, stepping over Crabbe's prone form, bringing himself face to face with Lucius Malfoy.
"Hullo," he said.
Lucius had never heard a voice that sounded so terrifying in all his life. He wouldn't figure it out, but the reason it was so bone chilling was that it lacked everything it should have held. It wasn't pretending to be anything. The anger it was covering up was more than any one boy of eleven should have possessed.
A moment later he brought Magical Theory by Albert Waffling down on Lucius's hand, which was clenched around his wand. Lucius yelped in pain and stumbled backwards.
"Goyle," he sputtered, recoiling from what he saw, or didn't see, in Remus's face. The bigger boy understood at once. He allowed Sirius to hit him once more, letting the blow slide off him, and then shuffled away, helping a groggy Crabbe to regain his feet. "This is far from over, Lupin and Black," Lucius warned, not even able to wave a shaky finger as he cradled his mashed hand. A moment later, he and the other two turned and scarpered.
Remus straightened a little, pushing his hair back from his eyes. "Thank you again," he said.
"Thank you," Sirius murmured, rubbing at his knuckles, which were much the worse for wear this time, "for waking up."
"Thank you," Remus continued, a twinkle in his eyes, "for waking me up." Sirius gave him a look. "Right. Sorry. Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." Sirius stared blankly at the back of his hand. Remus paused, then trotted over, setting his book-turned-weapon down on a stool and taking Sirius's hand in both of his.
"If you don't put something on this, it'll swell up by lunch." Sirius nearly burst with pride. Once again, Remus had to duck his head down to keep from smiling.
"Come on," Sirius said, tossing his dark, overlong hair back, "or we'll be late for class."
"Right," Remus murmured. Together, they gathered up his things and hurried out of the room, side by side.
After that nothing could separate the two of them. Where Remus was Sirius would inevitably be found, sticking up for the smaller boy or getting some last minute help with an assignment from him or just trying to make him laugh, which was a practically impossible task. In turn, where Sirius was Remus could always be seen beside him, as if he thought he could soak in some of the larger, braver, louder boy's color and intensity.
The two of them soon became the three of them, Sirius, Remus and James, and the three of them just as quickly became the four of them, Lilly Evans joining the group of boys without seeming to give a bat's wing about having them as best friends. She and Remus got along well enough to make Sirius jealous over the lost of his best friend and James jealous over the loss of Lilly Evans.
Halfway through the first school year another Gryffindor by the name of Peter Pettigrew, small, plump and terrified of mostly everything, became the fifth in their circle of friends. He looked up to James and Sirius with an admiration just as fierce but more obvious than Remus's, and he proved himself during an incident with Lucius and his slimy friend Snape (in which several potions exploded and Professor Voldemort had to intervene before Sirius lost an eye and Lucius lost his head).
As for the nights of the full moon, Remus's absences were in the beginning barely noticed, and, as he and Sirius grew inseparable, he was able to make excuses based on his health or the health of some relative that Sirius readily believed. After all, what could Remus possibly have to hide?
Christmas break had come and half passed by, as well, and it was on one frost-bitten morning that Remus sat, poised on the edge of his Hogwarts bed, trying not to open all his letters at once. They had just arrived an hour earlier by Owl Post, and he'd received a whopping four of them.
The first one he allowed himself to open was Etienne's, written neatly in an accountants careful hand. Remus realized suddenly that handwriting was just like his own, and he swelled slightly with pride.
Dear Remus,
It's cold here in Canterbury. It's been quiet in the apartment.
- I bought these books and thought of you. They were some of my favorites, when I was younger.
-Etienne
PS: I miss you.
Remus hid an awkward smile while reading his father's letter, feeling a bit guilty. He missed Etienne. He wished he could have been home for the holidays, despite the wonderful food and the library and warm bed Hogwarts had to offer. Still, they didn't have the money for taking Remus back and forth.
Instead, he had to settle on reading and re-reading his father's letter, and then taking his time to write one in return:
Dear Papa,
- It is much warmer here in Hogwarts than it was in Canterbury those past two winters. I got the books you sent by Owl Post this morning, and I can't wait to read them.
- Most of the others have gone home to visit for Christmas Break, but a few have stayed behind. It's rather quiet here without Sirius and James, but it also feels quite peaceful. Peter and I are working on some spells together as extra credit for Potions to make up for the little trouble we had with Lucius Malfoy last week. It's the least we can do, after all.
- It's been lonely for a while, without you. I'll miss our old Christmas mornings. Still, I have classes to look forward to, and the day when Sirius and James get back. They said they'd bring me back a Christmas present each. I don't think I've ever gotten presents from anyone but you before.. I wonder what sort of things they'll get me?
Merry Christmas, papa.
Love,
Remus
PS: Don't let the Chocolate Frogs I've sent escape.
PPS: Don't let the name 'Chocolate Frogs' fool you.
Remus folded up the letter and slipped it into an envelope, which he placed inside the package of chocolates he'd prepared for his father. He set his quill down, and turned to the other unopened letters he'd received, amidst the opened package and his father's usual Christmas gift of books.
The first was from James. He could tell by the messy scrawl:
REMUS,
Wish you were here. My family's nuts!
- As much as I can't believe I'm saying this, I can't wait until the end of break.
-James
The second letter was from Lilly, and the script was at least ten times neater.
Dear Remus,
- I hope it isn't too lonely there in Hogwarts with just you and Peter there. Still, you're both probably getting fed better than any of us who've gone home, so consider yourselves lucky. And we'll all be back to bother the two of you so soon you'll wish we were still far away. Don't get too lost in some book or another before we can come back to rescue you!
Sincerely,
Lilly E.
The third and last letter, the one he was trying to postpone opening so he could anticipate it properly, was Sirius's. It looked thicker than the other two, but Sirius did tend to write like a two year old when he was excited, so it didn't mean much. But still...
At last, Remus gave in, and tore open the letter eagerly.
Remus,
- It's bloody lonely here without you. Wish you could have come along and kept me company. You could have met my family, too, though I doubt if you'd be too keen on that idea. We're all very much into the Christmas spirit, if you know what I mean. It's nice, and there are lots of presents under the tree, though some of them have a suspiciously sock-like air to them. Sometimes, though, the Christmas spirit gets a little bit too cheerful for too long.
- Don't get the wrong idea. It's absolutely amazing to be back. You never know how much you miss things once you're taken away from them, you know? Just don't tell anyone that I've felt homesick enough to enjoy even Aunt Eustace's fruitcakes. I don't half believe it myself.
- On a better note: my mum makes the most fantastic Christmas pies, you wouldn't believe it, and we're going to have a ham, this year. It smells so good I can hardly concentrate on writing this letter, but I promised you I wouldn't let you rot away all alone in Hogwarts over the break, and so I'll do what I can to keep focused.
- I miss you and the rest. I asked my brothers' advice for what I should get you, and if you don't bloody adore it, I'll make sure Crabbe and Goyle get you next ambush in the halls.
- I think, now, I've wasted enough of my precious time on you. The twins are downstairs -- they've wanted me to help them with painting a their toy boat for a while now, and I might as well keep my promises to other people, too.
- I miss you, Remus. Like I said, it's bloody lonely here, even if it is nice to be back with them all.
S.B.
Remus read his letters over and over again by the heat from the fireside, feet tucked up underneath him. At last, he folded them all up and returned them to their envelopes, keeping them close by his bedside. After that, he went to mail the package and the letter for his father.
Sirius would be coming back soon, along with James and Lilly, and the life he'd begun to know and love would start up again.
"Your father sent you all these books?" Peter murmured incredulously as Remus returned.
"He always gets me books, for Christmas," Remus replied, settling back against his pillow.
"My dad got me socks," Peter sighed, shaking his head mournfully.
"You can borrow a book any time you like."
"Really?"
"Of course." Remus had yet to understand the way most minds worked about possessions. The wolf was possessive of its territory and of all that it claimed in a way that only an animal could be. So, Remus had learned how to compensate. Everything that was his was also his friends'. Sometimes, he felt the low, growling desire to own, but he was good at ignoring it. He was best at keeping himself otherwise occupied. "Come on, Peter. Breakfast should be ready by now." Immediately, the short, pale boy lit up eagerly, forgetting all about his disappointing socks. Remus had to admit, they looked as if they'd been made with fish hooks and netting.
"That's the best part about staying here for the holidays," Peter whispered reverently as he got on one of his warm, hand-knit socks. "No one's here to care whether you have pudding for breakfast, or what."
"Or chocolate," Remus murmured, lips twitching faintly.
"And there's no Crabbe or Goyle," Peter muttered, scowling as he hopped into the second sock, "waiting for you in the hallways."
"We'd show them not to mess with us," Remus said. His voice was dry. He wasn't one who could make bravado seem plausible, like Sirius or even James.
"Yes, of course," Peter acknowledged absently, and then scurried off, following his nose and his friend to the scent of food.
Sirius and James arrived back in Hogwarts loudly. Sirius never did anything with half a heart, always doing things with everything he had, or not doing them at all. He pounced Remus in the hallway as he was going to the library and took him prisoner as James laid out their presents with Lilly on Remus's bed in preparation for when their captive would be produced. Remus put up enough of a fight to keep Sirius satisfied, more than willing to play along.
Lilly had bought him a beautiful, first-rate writing quill at one of the Flourish & Blotts in the posh neighborhood where she lived.
"That's for when you're doing our homework," James explained, grinning from ear to do. "Now, you can do it properly."
"Shove off it," Lilly muttered fondly, taking her own advice and shoving the boy playfully. Remus inspected the quill for a long, long time, taking in its fine line and the softness of the feathers. It would make writing a much easier and much neater task.
"Thank you," he murmured. It was the understated way he said it that made Lilly blush, and mutter something polite under her breath, and feel so pleased with herself that her cheeks flushed pink.
James had gotten him a new cauldron as a sort of apology for the one a Potions class accident had scorched. It was in perfect condition, the pewter sparkling. Remus noticed immediately it was a much more expensive make than the one he'd originally owned that had been ruined in the misadventure.
"It's wonderful," he breathed.
"It isn't anything, really," James mumbled, scuffing a foot on the floor.
"It is," Remus insisted, taking as much time over it as he took over the quill. "Thank you, James."
"Yeah," James said, cheeks just as pink as Lilly's had been, keeping his eyes fixed on the bottom of his robe. "It's the least I could do, anyway."
Lastly was Sirius's package -- or, packages. There was not only one brightly decorated box, but two, left to open.
"Couldn't help myself," Sirius explained with a sheepish, trademark grin, and then turned his back on the scene, pretending not to care. Remus waited until he felt Sirius's eyes on him, and knew that his friend had gotten a good view over his shoulder. Only then could he tear into the cheerful Christmas wrapping paper, feeling like any normal child might on a crisp, Christmas morning.
The first and smaller package was a bar of the best and most expensive dark chocolate from a little shoppe Sirius had often told Remus about. The gold foil around it caught the light enticingly, and Remus could breathe in the rich scent of the chocolate within without even having to unwrap it.
"You'd better be planning on sharing that with all of us," James grumbled, then made a loud 'ooph!' sound as Sirius dug an elbow into his stomach. "That hurt!"
"Good," Sirius hissed. "Now shut your stupid gob or I'll shut it for you."
The other, bigger package took longer to open, partly because the wrapping job had been done by a skilled and practical hand, and partly because Remus wanted to make this moment last as long as he could. He slipped the ribbon off and set it neatly aside, and then slid his graceful fingers beneath the paper so that he would rip it as little as possible. Sirius licked his lips nervously.
Remus opened up the box at last, peering in. It was hard to keep his face flat and emotionless, harder still to keep his eyes from flashing with excitement.
In the box was a new satchel, made of the finest leather, with even a brass label on the clasp. His own name, Remus J. Lupin, was ingrained into it, catching the light as the chocolate wrapper had. Remus lifted his head, catching Sirius's eye. Sirius knew full well that his old bag had been completely destroyed; it was old, and one too many 'accidents' from Lucius Malfoy's hands had finally done it in.
Remus ran his fingers over the soft leather, breathing in that scent, as well. It was fresh, and expensive, and wonderful. Remus had never owned something so rich feeling in all his life. For a moment or two, he was speechless, just resting his palms on the bag.
"It'll, uhm," Sirius began, coughing nervously, "last you, the man at the shop said."
"Yes," Remus said.
"I wasn't sure what sort of style you'd like," Sirius went on, running his hands through his hair, "so I got the one that was closest, y'know, to what you had." He coughed again, shifting from foot to foot.
"It's perfect," Remus said.
"And I know that it's not the best of-- what?" Sirius blinked widely, caught by surprise. He turned slowly, scratching at his cheek, deep blue eyes sort of unsure, but a lot brighter, now.
"It's perfect," Remus repeated.
"Oh," Sirius said.
"Thank you," Remus managed, rubbing weakly at the corner of one eye.
"You're welcome," Sirius said, flushing faintly. He didn't puff up like a pigeon. He didn't swell with pride. He just stood there and blushed, pink tingeing his cheeks. James and Lilly looked at each other. Finally, James coughed, loudly, to break the tension that stretched between them.
"Well," he said loudly, "Merry Christmas, Remus."
"Merry Christmas," Remus murmured, and then snapped out of it. "Merry Christmas," he tried again, louder. "I don't know how to begin to thank you--"
"Don't," Sirius interrupted, quickly. "I know you, Remus, you'll start thinking you owe us something for this -- you don't owe us anything."
"We're just glad you like them," Lilly added, smiling encouragingly.
"We had to make sure none of us got you the same thing," James put in, grinning widely again.
"But we're glad you like everything so much," Sirius finished off, an equal grin spreading over his own lips.
"It's-- wonderful," Remus whispered, eyes roving over his three best friends. He hadn't expected anything like this. Why should he have? He'd never gotten anything more than books for Christmas.
He'd never had friends before, though. And certainly not friends like this.
"Stop looking like this is such a surprise," Sirius muttered, only pretending to be angry. "We're friends. You're our friend. So, we got you Christmas presents. It isn't that big a deal."
"It is," Remus said softly, "it is." They stood there, uncomfortable for a moment, Remus on one side and the other three facing him.
"That's it," Sirius grumbled, "I've heard enough. C'mere, you big idiot." He moved across the distance between them and grabbed Remus up in a tight, half awkward bear hug. "Merry bloody Christmas. Expect presents, in the future." Remus was stunned, standing there in the brief but tight circle of Sirius's arms, until the boy pulled back and shuffled away.
"All right," Remus said.
"Merry Christmas," Lilly echoed, embracing him as well, though it was a little less awkward and a little less tight.
"Merry Christmas," James repeated for the third time, pulling him close and ruffling his hair.
"Merry Christmas," Remus said at last, laughing that rusty, patched-up laugh. It was worth the money he'd spent, Sirius thought to himself, just to hear that soft, hesitant laugh break through Remus's lips to sparkle like jewels on the air. Sirius reached a hand over, ruffling Remus's hair as James had. Remus had soft hair, like velvet, and though it was unkempt, it was still softer than anything Sirius had felt in his life. He dropped his hand after a moment, his eyes twinkling as he grinned.
"All right, Remus," he said, flopping onto the boy's bed. "Tell us everything we've missed."
Time flew faster than Remus had ever known it to. He wasn't dreading the finals the teachers were going to give as the year drew to a close. He was dreading having to leave the school, and the library, and the classes, and, most of all, his friends.
The nights of the full moon had gotten no easier. If anything, they'd gotten worse as the year passed. The happier Remus got, the hungrier the wolf became, wanting that happiness and receiving nothing but loneliness. The wolf wanted so desperately the freedom Remus had found. The wolf wanted the forest, wanted to give in to its call.
The wolf could not.
One night, a day after the full moon, Remus was curled up in bed, recuperating from a particularly hard time. His shoulder ached from having slammed it into the shack door one too many times, and the fresh cuts and bruises all over his chest, arms and thighs were stinging. He didn't even have the energy to lose himself in one of his new books. The backs of his eyes throbbed faintly, and he felt dizzy just lying there.
"Brought you up some hot chocolate," Sirius murmured, breaking into his reverie. "Madam Pomfrey caught me in the hall, and said it might do you some good, so here I am."
"Ngh," Remus agreed, opening his eyes halfway to squint up at his friend's form. His throat felt tight and rough, like sandpaper. He hardly trusted it enough to let himself speak. Sirius nodded, sitting down gently on the bed beside him, holding a steaming mug of hot cocoa in both hands, as if it were the Holy Grail.
"You want to sit up?"
"That would be nice." Remus winced, and Sirius sighed deeply.
"Then give me a second, will you? Have some faith." After setting the mug of cocoa down by the bed, Sirius slipped an arm around Remus waist.
"Ow," Remus said softly.
"Sorry."
"It's all right."
"Still-- sorry. Now-- just let me help you up-- tell me if I'm hurting you."
"You're not. I'm all right." Using Sirius to support him, he sat up, leaning half against the pillow behind him, and half against Sirius's shoulder.
"Bloody-- Remus, what happened to you?" Sirius watched him fretfully, forgetting about the hot chocolate in his worry.
"It's nothing."
"What do you mean, it's nothing, of course it isn't nothing! You look awful--"
"Really, Sirius. It isn't anything. Trust me." Sirius ran his eyes over Remus's thin, gaunt form, the way it slumped wearily, the way there were dark circles under his eyes and tired lines around his mouth. He wasn't convinced, but he didn't want to push the other boy. He knew Remus too well to think he could get away with that.
"All right," Sirius muttered, giving in. "Just have some of the cocoa Madam Pomfrey sent up, and I'll keep my mouth shut."
"All right. Sounds like a bargain." Sirius pulled back just slightly, reaching over to take the mug again, offering it to Remus unhappily. Remus took it in both hands and drank it gratefully, the hot, sweet liquid soothing his ragged throat. "James has the homework you missed from classes yesterday. We were all worried about you, Lilly and James and Peter and me." Remus quelled the urge to correct his grammar and simply remained silent, revelling in the warmth of Sirius's body next to his own, and the warmth that the chocolate spread through him.
"Better?"
"Much." Sirius slowly pulled the arm that was twined tightly around Remus's waist away, letting his friend lean back fully against the pillow behind him.
"This happens an awful lot, Remus." Remus hid himself behind the mug of hot cocoa and flinched.
"What does?"
"You know. Your missing classes, your coming back like this. It's happened-- well, ever since the beginning of the year, come to think of it."
"It's nothing."
"Well, it must be something--"
"No," Remus said. "It isn't. Forget about it, Sirius. Please." Sirius opened his mouth and then caught Remus's eyes. They were sad, and pleading, little flecks of gold inside the dark brown. They were guarded, as always. Remus was a world unto himself, a complete and utter mystery.
If Remus wanted to keep himself that way, then so be it.
"Right."
"Thanks."
"Mm."
"For the hot cocoa and everything."
"Don't mention it." Sirius sat there for a mere moment longer, and then stood, trotting off to leave.
"Sirius--"
"Just feel better, all right? Feel better, Remus." He winked back at him, grinning rather defeatedly. "I'll see you later." Remus watched Sirius's back as he moved out, shutting the door quietly behind him. The chocolate was comforting, but he felt the slight edge of worry gnawing at his chest. He'd never had nothing to lose before. Now, he was going to have to be much more careful.
It had to happen sometime, he knew. But it was sooner rather than later that Remus's first year at Hogwarts was over.
He'd had a busy year. First, he'd passed his finals, and he'd helped Sirius and James to do the same; more importantly, he'd made it through potions without getting killed or at least maimed by Lucius and his ever-lasting grudge. Remus had come to call his canopy bed with its soft mattress and warm down quilt home.
He'd started to expect Sirius and James to just be there in the morning, when he woke up.
As a boy who had never been dependent on anything at all before in his life, he realized as he travelled back to Platform 9 and 3/4 that he had people, three of them (and maybe even four), whom he could depend on. It wasn't just for friendship, though that was nice, too. It was for stability, and for that sense of belonging he'd always craved, but didn't want to admit to wanting.
Sirius was by far the closest to him that anyone had ever been. His mother had invaded, and his father had cultivated his privacy. Sirius was just his other half, one part of the whole they made when they were together. Sirius had taught him how to smile and then how to laugh. He had taught Sirius how to be a little more serious. They were best friends, Remus had realized late one night as they worked on a project together, and it had filled him with this warm, strong feeling, as if he could have conquered the world just from knowing Sirius would stick by him no matter what.
He would miss his friend, over the summer.
He would miss being the sort of person who had a best friend.
"Are you gonna miss me?" Sirius leaned over his shoulder, peering out the window along side his friend. Against the glass pane, their faces were side by side, equal circles of condensation blossoming from their parted lips.
"Yes," Remus answered honestly.
"Mm," Sirius murmured, grin fading as he watched their reflections. They looked good, side by side. They looked right. Like they belonged.
"I've never had so much fun in my life," Remus said after a moment, keeping his eyes focused on the world speeding by past the window. For some reason it was easier to say things to Sirius without looking at him.
"You needed it."
"I know."
"And naturally, I saw that, so I decided to help you out."
"Yes." They were silent for a while after that. Sirius grew accustomed to the pattern of Remus's breaths, and tried to make his own match, so that they were breathing along the same rhythms.
"I'm," Sirius mumbled after a moment, "going to bloody miss you. Don't know why. Stupid little bookworm that you are."
"I don't know why either."
"Oh, shut up." Sirius scowled darkly at his own reflection in the window. Remus had never seen him look so miserable. "I said I'm going to bloody miss you, and I'm going to bloody miss you."
"All right."
"Don't you all right me."
"All--" Remus broke off, unsure of what he could say to that.
"You're so-- you're so annoyingly clueless all the time!"
"Sorry."
"And you just sit there saying 'sorry' and 'all right' to me all the time, like the bloody git that you are."
"Sirius."
"What?"
"A simple 'good-bye, Remus' would be a lot nicer." Sirius blinked wide blue eyes at the smaller boy. The both of them began to laugh, slowly at first, and then loud and fast and a little sad, too. Remus had a way of seeing right through everything Sirius did or tried to do. Remus had a way of understanding everything Sirius did or tried to do better than Sirius himself could.
Remus was, Sirius knew full well, a hundred times smarter than Sirius could ever hope to be.
"Good-bye, Remus," Sirius murmured softly.
"Good-bye, Sirius," Remus returned.
"I'll write, maybe," Sirius ventured.
"You'll forget."
"Mm. I know." They both laughed again, and turned their eyes to the window, watching the scenery streak by.
"So-- next year, then."
"Mm. Next year, then."
Etienne barely recognized his son as he stepped off the train. He looked more alive than Etienne had ever known him to look, eyes sparkling and vibrant, lips seeming used to laughter and smiles. Next to him was a taller, broad shouldered, dark-haired boy, who stuck close, carrying both their suitcases. Etienne felt his lips curve up into an irrepressible smile, and he turned his eyes away, giving them their privacy to say their goodbyes. He knew, though, when Remus noticed him. He stood a little straighter, and let his tired eyes take in happily the sight of his son.
Remus had grown. He looked stronger, more vibrant. The boy who had stood beside him was letting him out of a fiercely tight bear hug, and had given him back his suitcase. They lingered together for a moment. Etienne had missed his son terribly, but in this moment, he knew fully just how worth it giving him up would be.
"Hello," Etienne murmured as Remus pulled himself away from his friend, and came close.
"Hello."
"How was your ride back?"
"Fine." They stood together in silence for a few heartbeats, Etienne looking away into the distance, Remus down at his feet. At last, the awkwardness grew almost too much for the man to bear.
"Remus--"
"Papa." They looked up at each other, and suddenly the both of them smiled.
"I'm glad you're back, Remus."
"Mm. I'm-- I'm glad to be back, too." He brushed his hair back from his eyes. Etienne thought how much like Dalila he looked, back when Dalila had been a lovely, wonderful mystery. Dalila had needed to mature. Remus had already done all of that. Now, he was the spitting image of his mother, but wiser and kinder. Etienne was filled with love for him.
"Come, son," he murmured softly, ruffling his boy's hair. "Let's go home." Remus nodded, the words like music to his ears.
