Author's Note: this is a better length, huh? Okay, rules coming up. I'm
not posting the next chapter until I hit 80 reviews, no exceptions. I know
that you can do it in no time, so R+R! Now, enjoy, and I'm just starting
some new HP fics, so check those out two and, you guessed it, review.
It was Hallowe'en before James finally plucked up the courage to ask Lily out properly. He was terrified of being rejected as he had been so many times in the past, but she accepted without even dragging it out. He was teased so mercilessly by his friends when he got back from Hogsmead that evening that he refused to talk to them for a week. It was his own fault, in Harry's opinion, for looking unbearably self-satisfied. Needless to say, none of the others had serious relationships going that Harry knew about, and there wasn't a chance Harry himself was going to date someone of his dad's generation!!!!
Harry had stayed with the other three that evening. It was the first time he'd gone to Hogsmead since he'd come back in time. He could feel how different the atmosphere was compared to his own time, where Voldmort was a hated, shadowy memory, but quite gone (or so people thought). He put it down to Voldemort's ever increasing power and presence in the wizarding world. He'd discovered, much to his surprise, that the great majority of the pupils in the school, especially those from wizarding families, had suffered losses.
* * * * * *
To the Marauders' disgust, James seemed deliriously happy most of the time now. The only time he sobered a bit was for Quidditch matches, which he was under a lot of pressure to do well in now that Lily was watching him. This made him impossible to be around, not that he seemed to care since he was in a daze most of the time anyway.
One night, a few weeks later, Harry woke up from a nightmare to find himself alone. He wouldn't have worried if one bed was empty, but all four of the boys were gone. Usually, one of them would have heard him muttering in his sleep, woken him and helped him to calm down, but the dormitory was completely deserted - the other four beds didn't look as if they'd been slept in at all.
Feeling very indignant at being left out of whatever prank they were doing, Harry sat up in bed and put on his glasses, ready to confront them when they came in. Suddenly, he had a moment of inspiration. He rummaged hurriedly in Remus's rather untidy trunk, knowing his friend wouldn't mind, and brought out a lunar calendar, a must for all Astronomy students. There it was, November 17th, full moon.
All of Harry's resentment vanished as if it had never been. He should have known really, because he knew that Remus was a werewolf. He'd seen Remus transform once before, and it had not been a pleasant experience for any of them. Harry resolved to wait up for them, as he had intended to, but not to confront them. He wanted to see if there was anything that he could do himself to help them.
Harry had woken up at approximately three o'clock, and it was five o'clock before they staggered in. More precisely, Harry watched the door swing open as they lurched in, then saw them appear from under the Invisibility Cloak. He stirred from his doze, and stared at them in horror. Remus in particular looked as though he'd been dragged through hell and back - he was bruised all over and had scratches covering his already pale face. Harry took one look at them all, and changed his mind about everything he'd been planning to say.
"Tell me about it later," he said gently. "James, Sirius, Peter - you'd go to bed now. You look whacked. Remus, do you want a hand? I do a pretty decent healing charm. It looks to me as if you need it, far more than the others."
"Thanks Harry," his friend agreed, too tired to be suspicious. His friends, always very protective, looked at Harry warily as they got into bed. Without letting them see, he cast deep sleep charms on them as soon as they looked comfortable. Even if he wouldn't, they would at least get the equivalent of eight hours normal sleep. Once Remus had been fixed up as best as they could manage, he toppled with relief back onto his own bed and went out like a light himself.
Even having helped them, Harry was still the first one up. This might have been because he was very keen that they didn't slip out and avoid his questions. He knew where they'd been, but they didn't know he knew and probably wouldn't want to tell him. He got out of bed, shut the door firmly, dressed and sat on his bed to wait for the others. When at last they were all ready, they sat there, looking uncomfortably at each other. James looked at Remus, who nodded, almost imperceptibly. Only then did he speak.
"We probably should have told you, its your right to know, but we were worried. You're one of us now, after all. Remus is a werewolf. He leaves school through a secret passage, so he changes where no one can get hurt. Dumbledore knows, of course. We go with him - Dumbledore doesn't know that though - and he can't hurt us because we're Animagi, so we're all animals when he's dangerous and werewolves don't harm animals."
"I know," Harry said, feeling very glad that they'd told him. "And I don't mind, so don't look so worried Remus. You're hardly going to kill me when you're out there and I'm here, are you? Anyway, you're perfectly safe the rest of the time."
"How do you know?" Peter asked curiously, sure that they'd taken all of the necessary precautions so that they wouldn't be found out by anyone.
"That would be telling," Harry said evasively, but he glanced meaningfully at James. "Say, can you teach me to become an Animagus? What would I be?"
It was perfect truth that the Animagi fascinated him. Even since he'd found out about his dad being an Animagus, he had secretly wished to become one himself, he didn't care what animal. James and Sirius looked each other dubiously.
"Well, okay, you can try," Sirius said doubtfully. "But I'll warn you that its really hard work, took us a few years to learn. We won't know what you'll be until you finally manage it, so no one can answer that question. One of us can practice with you every night between eight and nine in the dormitory. That suit, you lot? I don't mind at all, ought to be fun."
"Of course, Padfoot. You're in, Harry. Now you can become a proper Marauder," James said, bearing a smirk identical to the one on his son's face. The school would no longer be safe, or at least, it would be even less peaceful (if it could be called peaceful before) now.
It was Hallowe'en before James finally plucked up the courage to ask Lily out properly. He was terrified of being rejected as he had been so many times in the past, but she accepted without even dragging it out. He was teased so mercilessly by his friends when he got back from Hogsmead that evening that he refused to talk to them for a week. It was his own fault, in Harry's opinion, for looking unbearably self-satisfied. Needless to say, none of the others had serious relationships going that Harry knew about, and there wasn't a chance Harry himself was going to date someone of his dad's generation!!!!
Harry had stayed with the other three that evening. It was the first time he'd gone to Hogsmead since he'd come back in time. He could feel how different the atmosphere was compared to his own time, where Voldmort was a hated, shadowy memory, but quite gone (or so people thought). He put it down to Voldemort's ever increasing power and presence in the wizarding world. He'd discovered, much to his surprise, that the great majority of the pupils in the school, especially those from wizarding families, had suffered losses.
* * * * * *
To the Marauders' disgust, James seemed deliriously happy most of the time now. The only time he sobered a bit was for Quidditch matches, which he was under a lot of pressure to do well in now that Lily was watching him. This made him impossible to be around, not that he seemed to care since he was in a daze most of the time anyway.
One night, a few weeks later, Harry woke up from a nightmare to find himself alone. He wouldn't have worried if one bed was empty, but all four of the boys were gone. Usually, one of them would have heard him muttering in his sleep, woken him and helped him to calm down, but the dormitory was completely deserted - the other four beds didn't look as if they'd been slept in at all.
Feeling very indignant at being left out of whatever prank they were doing, Harry sat up in bed and put on his glasses, ready to confront them when they came in. Suddenly, he had a moment of inspiration. He rummaged hurriedly in Remus's rather untidy trunk, knowing his friend wouldn't mind, and brought out a lunar calendar, a must for all Astronomy students. There it was, November 17th, full moon.
All of Harry's resentment vanished as if it had never been. He should have known really, because he knew that Remus was a werewolf. He'd seen Remus transform once before, and it had not been a pleasant experience for any of them. Harry resolved to wait up for them, as he had intended to, but not to confront them. He wanted to see if there was anything that he could do himself to help them.
Harry had woken up at approximately three o'clock, and it was five o'clock before they staggered in. More precisely, Harry watched the door swing open as they lurched in, then saw them appear from under the Invisibility Cloak. He stirred from his doze, and stared at them in horror. Remus in particular looked as though he'd been dragged through hell and back - he was bruised all over and had scratches covering his already pale face. Harry took one look at them all, and changed his mind about everything he'd been planning to say.
"Tell me about it later," he said gently. "James, Sirius, Peter - you'd go to bed now. You look whacked. Remus, do you want a hand? I do a pretty decent healing charm. It looks to me as if you need it, far more than the others."
"Thanks Harry," his friend agreed, too tired to be suspicious. His friends, always very protective, looked at Harry warily as they got into bed. Without letting them see, he cast deep sleep charms on them as soon as they looked comfortable. Even if he wouldn't, they would at least get the equivalent of eight hours normal sleep. Once Remus had been fixed up as best as they could manage, he toppled with relief back onto his own bed and went out like a light himself.
Even having helped them, Harry was still the first one up. This might have been because he was very keen that they didn't slip out and avoid his questions. He knew where they'd been, but they didn't know he knew and probably wouldn't want to tell him. He got out of bed, shut the door firmly, dressed and sat on his bed to wait for the others. When at last they were all ready, they sat there, looking uncomfortably at each other. James looked at Remus, who nodded, almost imperceptibly. Only then did he speak.
"We probably should have told you, its your right to know, but we were worried. You're one of us now, after all. Remus is a werewolf. He leaves school through a secret passage, so he changes where no one can get hurt. Dumbledore knows, of course. We go with him - Dumbledore doesn't know that though - and he can't hurt us because we're Animagi, so we're all animals when he's dangerous and werewolves don't harm animals."
"I know," Harry said, feeling very glad that they'd told him. "And I don't mind, so don't look so worried Remus. You're hardly going to kill me when you're out there and I'm here, are you? Anyway, you're perfectly safe the rest of the time."
"How do you know?" Peter asked curiously, sure that they'd taken all of the necessary precautions so that they wouldn't be found out by anyone.
"That would be telling," Harry said evasively, but he glanced meaningfully at James. "Say, can you teach me to become an Animagus? What would I be?"
It was perfect truth that the Animagi fascinated him. Even since he'd found out about his dad being an Animagus, he had secretly wished to become one himself, he didn't care what animal. James and Sirius looked each other dubiously.
"Well, okay, you can try," Sirius said doubtfully. "But I'll warn you that its really hard work, took us a few years to learn. We won't know what you'll be until you finally manage it, so no one can answer that question. One of us can practice with you every night between eight and nine in the dormitory. That suit, you lot? I don't mind at all, ought to be fun."
"Of course, Padfoot. You're in, Harry. Now you can become a proper Marauder," James said, bearing a smirk identical to the one on his son's face. The school would no longer be safe, or at least, it would be even less peaceful (if it could be called peaceful before) now.