Chapter Five
When I elected to go to Gryffindor, I did so with the singular goal of remaining alongside Lily. It was brash, foolish, and in actuality the exact sort of thing a Gryffindor would do. There was, perhaps, a manner of self-fulfilling prophecy at work.
As time went on, something unforeseen happened, however. Against my best efforts, I found myself growing close to my four dormmates. On my more ambivalent days, I wondered if I was getting a form of Stockholm Syndrome and deluding myself into thinking us friends. In reality, this was no coping mechanism; it was merely true and genuine friendship. Peter was quiet and unobtrusive. In Remus, I found sort of a kindred spirit, a fellow academic though one not immune to the occasional childish antics. James and Sirius were…oafs. Imbeciles. Troublemaking brats who I should have despised from the off.
But I was a Gryffindor, like them. That made us "mates" according to James. The lions were many less-savory things at times, but they were a loyal and familial lot, with an unshakeable camaraderie. Among them, I found a place to belong, whether I wanted to or not. As the days passed, I began to realize that I did, ever so much.
I suppose I hadn't realized what I'd been missing until it had been placed right in front of me.
And with my friends alongside me, no amount of time-travelling insanity could get me, I believed.
…
19 November, 1971
The riotous reds, oranges, and yellows of autumn soon gave way to the bleak gray and brown of winter, which descended early and remorselessly upon the highlands of Scotland. Trees were laid bare of their leaves, leaving only the occasional thatch of coniferous green among the surrounding forests. Hogwarts itself grew cold and drafty, most especially the dungeons. Slytherins could be seen clutching their cloaks around them even in the corridors between classes.
James loved taking those moments to espouse the delights of the Gryffindor common room and its cozy fire. Severus pointed out that, given its high placement in one of the castle's taller towers, the common room was just as susceptible to the perils of cold in the form of unfettered winds. James rolled his eyes and told Severus to shut it.
Things continued in this cozy, friendly manner. The four boys had seemingly welcomed Severus completely into their fold after the incident with the boy named Harry. Lily was simultaneously pleased that he had made friends while disappointed that he counted James Potter among them.
"Really, I'm glad you're actually friends with boys and all, but James Potter?" Lily grumbled as they made their way back to the common room once the final lesson of a cold and gray Friday had let out. "He's an arrogant toerag."
"Oh, he is," Severus nodded. "But he's also…not a bad person."
"Setting the bar quite low, then," Lily snickered at him. "Well, you do seem…less grumpy than usual."
"Still far from cheerful, though," Severus told her with a thin smile.
"Oh, that would just be unnerving," Lily shuddered. "Imagining you guffawing like one of those wretched boys."
"We're 'wretched' now, Sirius," James's voice spoke from behind Severus.
"I've been called wretched before, but coming from Evans, it hurts so much more," Sirius sighed theatrically. "I'm a sensitive soul, you know."
"The poor boy's liable to develop a complex," James chided her.
"You two are impossible," Lily huffed.
"And yet here we are," James told her with a grin. Rolling her eyes, Lily pointedly turned away from the pair to peer at Severus.
"You were going to help me with my Herbology paper, right?" she asked.
"Of course," Severus said, peering over her shoulder to where James and Sirius were sporting twin smirks. "I can't wait."
"What a kind friend we've made, James," Sirius said. "So willing to help out his friends, innee?"
"Did you finish that essay, Sirius?" James asked.
"I got a decent start, but I could sure use some help with the rest," Sirius said. "You?"
"Got it done, but it could certainly do with some polish," James sighed. "If only there were someone willing to help us."
"Well, sorry 'bout your luck," Lily said hurriedly, taking Severus by the sleeve and starting to pull him away. "Maybe talk to Remus."
"Aw, c'mon, Evans," James said. "Are you going to deny us a proper study group?"
"If you're part of it, it will be anything but proper," Lily spat at him, though she had stopped and was now glaring at the boy over her shoulder.
"Sev's our friend now, too," James insisted.
"You've got to share him," Sirius added.
"…Alright, but I'm bringing friends, too," Lily grumbled.
…
And so it was that instead of a quiet Friday afternoon spent in the library with Lily's full attention, Severus wound up as the unwitting leader of a study group consisting not only of all of his dormmates (Sirius and James had enthusiastically invited Remus and Peter to join them) but most of Lily's. Mary Macdonald, Marlene McKinnon, and Hestia Jones had seemingly been dragged along by the redheaded girl as reinforcements.
"I've already finished the essay," Hestia groaned as she sat. She was a bright-eyed and bespectacled girl with positively curly brown hair that spilled over her shoulders. Even as she pouted and groused, she reached up and began absently twirling a lock.
"You could always stand to go back over it," Mary suggested, and Hestia blew an annoyed puff of hair that sent a strand of her fringe floating away.
"I don't believe in second-guessing myself," she said. "I turn in what I wrote the first time and get the grade I get."
"More like you're too lazy to proofread," Marlene pointed out, and Hestia shrugged.
"I'm going to be a famous journalist someday, I'll just hire a proofreader," she said.
"Of course, how daft of me to forget," Marlene smirked, leaning over to bump Sirius with her shoulder. "Alright, Sirius?"
"Alright," Sirius said with a grin back at her, batting away one of the thick braids she had pulled her hair into. So wild were her locks that the braids stuck out very slightly from her head. "You? Heard you took a spill last quidditch lesson."
"Landed right on me bum," Marlene said. "Had to hobble all the way up to Madame Pomfrey. Nearly lost the left buttock."
"You'd have been sitting crooked the rest of your life," Sirius snickered, and Marlene stuck her tongue out at him.
"Oh, Sev," Lily said, acting as though she'd just thought of something. "I've just remembered a book I need. Walk with me?"
It was a poor front; Severus could tell she was looking for a word alone with him. The rest were probably oblivious at least, having not spent nearly as much time in Lily's company. With that gratifying thought in mind, he stood and followed Lily into the depths of the surrounding bookshelves.
"What happened?" Lily asked, rounding on him. Her words tumbled out like they'd been building up and held at bay for the past few weeks, now bursting forth as the last of her restraint gave way. "You being friendly with them is all well and good, but now you're all bosom buddies?"
"Do not call us that – "
"Sev, you hated those boys even more than I did," Lily said. "They insulted you and belittled you, and now you're all…all…"
"Don't say it – "
"Bosom buddies!"
"You've said it," Severus sighed. "Lily…we just found common ground, I suppose. Is that such a bad thing?"
"Well…no, like I said, I suppose it's good that you've made friends," Lily mumbled. "I just don't want them… I'm worried they're having you on or just pretending so they can pull something embarrassing later on."
"That's definitely not what's going on," Severus assured her. "Believe it or not, they're capable of being decent boys."
"Color me shocked," Lily giggled.
"You just always see James at his worst because he feels like he has to put on a show for you," Severus went on. "You know, I think he might fancy you."
"Oh, ew," Lily pretended to retch, and Severus couldn't help a small smile at that.
…
Severus had never had a penchant for sports, as a participant nor as an observer. While most afternoons had seen him scampering around the old playground near his house with Lily (weather permitting), that was the beginning and end of his participation in any manner of physical activity. Fresh air, to him, was best enjoyed passively and with a good book. Mum had halfheartedly asked if he'd cared to take up an afterschool football league once or twice, though she'd always seemed relieved at Severus's emphatic denials.
The closest thing his father got to anything resembling sports was betting on horse races, which had often led to him taking out his disappointment in the results on Severus and his mother. But Severus wasn't about to linger on those thoughts.
He normally didn't prefer to spare the world of sports any amount of consideration beyond disdainful dismissal, but on a sunny and cold Saturday morning in November, Severus Snape was made aware of the consequences of being friends with sports fans.
"It's Gryffindor's first match of the season!" James insisted as the boys all dressed for the day. "And it's versus Slytherin, so that's all the more reason to go and watch the snakes get stomped!"
"C'mon, Sev, if not for the game, it's about house unity," Remus told him. "And believe me, these games have a way of pulling you in. You start rooting for your team without even thinking about it."
"I've been to some of the practices, and Gryffindor's aces this year," James went on. "No one's getting past Malcom McGonagall. He's the keeper, and they call him the Bulwark."
"Impressive," Sirius said with an appreciative nod.
"Is he related to Professor McGonagall?" Peter asked, in the midst of a struggle to put his head through his shirtsleeve. The four other boys all paused for a few seconds to take in the sight before Remus sighed and made his way over to assist.
"I think he's her nephew," he said.
"Imagine having Professor McGonagall as an auntie," James chuckled.
"Yeah, imagine," Sirius said with a dreamy grin, and Severus chucked a pillow at him.
It was, according to James, ideal quidditch weather as observed through the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall. The sky was mostly a pristine blue, with only the occasional fluffy white cloud drifting lazily overhead. Occasionally, the sun would be obscured, only to resurface and glint off of the golden dinnerware in a way that had some students blinking at the sudden and blinding light.
"Changing light conditions might be a factor for the seeker, maybe the keeper if the sun gets in his eyes," James went on as he speared a fried tomato on his fork before sparing the ceiling another look. "Doesn't seem overly windy, at least."
"I think our boy here might be a quidditch enthusiast," Sirius said.
"Gee, say it isn't so," Remus chuckled, doling some beans onto his plate. "Wouldn't have guessed."
"He obviously prefers gobstones," Severus drawled, and James snickered.
"Too right," he said. "Obsessed, I am, can't get enough of it."
"I like gobstones," Peter moped, prompting James and Sirius to snicker at him.
"You would, wouldn't you?" Sirius said with a shake of his head. He snagged up a piece of toast, stuffing nearly half of the slice in his mouth.
"Must you eat like a dog?" Marlene McKinnon asked as she took a seat near the boys. Sirius grinned at her, now popping the rest of the toast in his mouth and showing it to her half-chewed. "Ew!"
"Woof," he said, now laboriously chewing the whole thing.
"You'll choke, you disgusting boy," Remus chided him.
"Wurf i'," Sirius said, dumping some tea into his mouth to attempt to wash the toast down.
"How lovely it is that I've made such charming friends," Severus said with a roll of his eyes. James cackled and slapped him on the back.
"You're a lucky bloke, aren't you?"
"Yeh lot going to the quidditch match?" Marlene asked, soundly ignoring as Sirius chewed loudly in her direction.
"Naturally," James said. "I'll be one of their star chasers next year, just you watch."
"As if you'd be able to lift off dragging that big head of yours," Lily snapped, taking a seat next to Marlene and fixing Sirius with a quietly distasteful look.
"You wait, Evans," James said with a grin back at her. "Next year, I'll join the quidditch team, and you'll see me fly, and you won't be able to believe your eyes."
"Are you really so impressive at it?" Lily asked disbelievingly, though she was resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the table as she peered almost imperiously over at the boy.
"Only the best I know of," James said nonchalantly.
"You can never fault the lad for a lack of confidence," Sirius said with a sage nod.
"It's almost inspiring," Lily added flatly. "Remus, pass us the bacon?"
"Coming up," Remus said.
Breakfast was cordial, at least. Mary Macdonald turned up and sat next to James, who had engaged Marlene and Sirius in a discussion about professional quidditch teams. Ever the patriot, Marlene was a fan of Pride of Portree, and she and James spent the better part of ten minutes arguing about chaser formations or some rubbish. Severus wasn't really inclined to follow, instead talking with Lily about the new album by The Who, which she had just received in the mail from her parents.
"The album title is such a horrid pun, though," she said with a grin. "Who's Next."
"Because it's The Who's next album," Severus said dryly, and Lily snickered.
"Wait a tick," Sirius said, staring across the table at the pair. "Evans, you listen to The Who?"
"You…know who they are?" Lily asked, and even Severus was a bit surprised. The pureblood heir knew about a muggle rock group?
"My uncle told me about them," Sirius said. His expression was one Severus couldn't recall ever seeing; rather than a sardonic smirk or a mirthful grin, he wore an openly pleased and genuine smile. "I've always wanted to listen to them."
Severus turned to see Lily staring askance, her face even going the smallest bit pink at Sirius's candor. He could relate; gone was the mocking little prat that was always egging James Potter along, and in his place was a fellow music-lover.
This was rather unexpected.
"Perhaps I could bring my portable 8-track player down to the common room sometime," she said slowly. "We could have a listen."
"That'd be brilliant," Sirius said fervently. "What are your favorite muggle bands?"
That was all the opening Lily needed, and Severus found himself smiling a bit as he watched Lily go off on a tangent about The Who, The Beatles ("I like their old stuff and the newer songs."), Jefferson Airplane ("'White Rabbit' is my absolute favorite song ever."), Led Zeppelin ("I'm not allowed to listen to 'Immigrant Song' at home because I can belt it."), and plenty of others. Sirius could only listen and seemed unable to get a word in edgewise. Soon, he gave up trying but seemed too enraptured to be upset.
But that was simply how it was; Lily Evans talked, and you listened, and you didn't mind one bit.
"She knows a thing or two about music, eh?" he said to Severus as the cluster of first-years made their way out toward the quidditch pitch (minus Peter, who had of course forgotten his cloak in the dormitory).
"She has very literally run out of breath from talking so long about it before," Severus said with a grin at the girl in question. Ahead, she was now chatting with Hestia Jones about the upcoming Charms test. "Her face went blue, and she had to sit down… And she kept on about it."
"How long have you two known each other?" Sirius asked.
"Nearly as long as I can remember," Severus said. "Even before I found out she was magic, she was my best friend. When I found out she was coming here as well, it was like a dream come true."
"And then she got into Gryffindor after all that," Sirius snickered.
"Naturally," Severus said with a wry laugh. Again, it was just like her, forging ahead and leaving you to either follow or be left in the dust.
"Look at us, destined to be snakes but picking the lions instead," Sirius said.
"You picked?" Severus asked. Sirius gave a small shrug, clutching his cloak about him as they exited the castle into a gentle but brisk breeze. So cold was it outside that even a small wind was biting. Seeing an opening to continue his passionate diatribe, James began enlightening anyone who would listen about the hazards of cold-weather flying.
"I picked," Sirius said. "Well, the hat told me I was a born Gryffindor, even said my Uncle Alphard should've been and it regretted not sticking him there before."
"That's the one that likes muggle music and showed you motorcycles," Severus remembered.
"That's the one," Sirius said with a grin. "The hat said I could go to Gryffindor, or if I didn't want all the fuss, I could just go to Slytherin. Evidently, I'd've done well in either with my rebellious streak."
"Say it isn't so," Severus said dryly.
"Go figure, eh?" Sirius chuckled. "Well, it's obvious what I picked. Couldn't stop thinking about it, really. Stuck down there in the dungeons where everyone's all cold and mean and snide, and they talk about blood-purity like it even matters a lick. Evans is top in our class, she is, and she's a muggle-born."
"It does all seem rubbish to think about," Severus said. Even Mum had mentioned a few times in her letters that he ought to be careful the company he kept, that not all muggle-borns were "the good sort" as though the same couldn't be said of purebloods. The tenor of her letters had only grown more grim over the past several weeks as he'd written home about his new friends, including a half-blood and a couple of muggle-borns.
"You're a half-blood, right?" Sirius asked as they crossed the grounds. A few telltale flakes of snow whirled around them, but there didn't seem to be anything sticking for the moment.
"I am," Severus said. "Mum seems to forget that sometimes. I don't think she likes to connect me to my father. Likes to pretend I just happened, and I'm just a Prince."
"Your Mum's from the Prince family?" Sirius asked, wide-eyed now. "Mum's talked about them. Good line of potion-makers, she says."
"Well, that hardly makes any difference now," Severus said. "Grandmum hasn't spoken a word to her since she married my dad. I don't even think they know I exist."
"Their loss," Sirius said. "You're better off for it anyway. Mum speaks very highly of Priscilla Prince, so I can't imagine she's a good sort."
Severus hadn't even known his grandmum's name until then, though he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about the revelation. In fact, he felt almost nothing. Notions of family were foreign to him, a thing known and understood but never experienced.
"Oi, that's enough heavy talk, though," Sirius said. "You know, Uncle Al always told me that the best family is one you find for yourself."
"Where do you think I should start looking?" Severus asked with a smirk, and Sirius gave him a playful shove.
"How about the four blokes who went and saved your skin from that nutter on Halloween?" he said.
"Does that count as a family activity?" Severus asked.
"If not, you're not in the right family."
…
"I think Peter's run off," Sirius observed as the game went on overhead. Gryffindor were two hundred points up, but Slytherin was in possession of the quaffle. James was nattering on about why the points gap was so significant ("No matter who catches the snitch right now, Gryffindor wins."), and Severus was seriously considering taking a leaf from Peter's book and sneaking away.
"He's the smart one, then," Lily groused, her teeth chattering as she clutched a blanket tightly around herself.
"Wasn't this whole thing you're idea?" Mary asked her. "Something about the full Hogwarts experience?"
"That was before I realized how cold it is!" Lily grumbled. "Right, I've had about enough of this. I could be drinking hot cocoa by the fire while this lot freeze their bums off."
"Oi, you leaving, Evans?" James asked. "Gryffindor's back in possession!"
"Bully for them," Lily said as she stood. "Mary, coming?"
"I daresay Marlene's found a kindred spirit," Mary said with a glance at the third of their number, who was spiritedly pointing out Gryffindor's effortless use of some flying formation or another. "She certainly doesn't need us here."
"Sev, join us?" Lily asked. Severus was surprised at the moment's hesitation he felt; weeks ago, he would have never even considered himself the type to come to one of these games, much less take any amount of time to debate leaving.
But James, Remus, and Sirius were his friends.
"Oh, go on," Remus said, nudging him.
"Go check on Peter," Sirius said. "Poor boy may have gotten lost on the way back down."
"We'll need to draw him a map of the school at this rate," Severus said, and Sirius snickered.
"Be dead handy, that would," he said.
Together with the two girls, Severus trekked back through the cold and wind toward the safe confines of the castle. They weren't alone, either; several groupings of students from all houses had evidently also elected to forego the risk of frostbite just to watch the outcome of what amounted to a school sports match.
"At least there are some around here with some sense," Mary grumbled. "Never abided all that sports fervor."
"You didn't have to go all this way just for me," Lily said with a wry smile. Rolling her eyes, Mary reached out and ruffled the smaller girl's hair.
"And leave you to be devoured by those boys?" she asked. "Hardly."
…
A child isn't necessarily prone to worrying over things. At least, things of any significance. Sure, James would fuss and fret over what Lily thought of his flying skills at quidditch lessons, Sirius quietly wondered if his mother would force him to endure the public humiliation of yet another howler. But matters of time travel and such? Nothing to trouble ourselves over, no need to think on it. Such massive, existential problems are so all-encompassing as to become abstract to a child, much too grave to wrap his head around and thus to be left to the adults.
But, as Dad always said, I was a bit mature for my age. A hazard of being a werewolf is that my capacity for worry has always been a bit more developed. So while my friends were occupied with school matters, I was…intrigued. Time travel was not only possible but evidently meddling in our lives. While I could hardly go to teachers asking questions, there remained the library, which was sure to be chock full of information.
And I was determined to find it.
…
2 December, 1971
Winter marched relentlessly onward, and as November gave way to December, steely gray clouds began to blanket the Hogwarts grounds in thick, wet snowflakes. The paths down to the greenhouses became perilous without a Sure-Foot Spell, and even the thick Hogwarts cloaks couldn't always keep the cold and wind at bay. The new trend was to pour a splash of Pepper-Up Potion into your morning tea or cocoa and spend the day steaming at the ears but blissfully warm.
Christmas decorations started to appear in the hallways and corridors, including the much-maligned mistletoe, which often caused traffic jams as students did their level best to avoid it. It was hardly as juvenile as the same happening in a muggle school; mistletoe at Hogwarts was often quite persistent and followed the first unfortunate soul to walk under it (playing a jazzy rendition of "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" almost too loudly) until they were freed from it by a kiss. Thankfully, it was at least lenient, allowing for a simple peck on the cheek to release one from its influence.
Remus had been caught unawares a couple of times (his head was always a bit foggy the day before a full moon) and gamely freed by a giggling Mary Macdonald, who had had to stoop a bit to peck his cheek due to a recent growth spurt.
"I'd appreciate if you wouldn't tell James and Sirius," Remus asked her as they walked past a bank of high windows that were currently being battered by a gale of freezing rain. "They'll never let me hear the end of it."
"I wonder sometimes why you hang out with those two," Mary sighed. "They're very… Well, they're thickheads, aren't they? And you're actually studious, like. You and Sev are so different from them."
"They are thickheads," Remus admitted with a rueful smile. "But beneath all that, they're actually decent folk. More than decent, actually."
"Well, it must be rather far beneath the thickheadedness," Mary said.
"I've always been good at digging," Remus told her.
They reached the library, and Mary veered off to go join her Herbology Club meeting (during adverse weather conditions, they read up on botany techniques or something), leaving Remus to search out all he could on the subject of chronomancy.
He had learned the proper name for it after an inordinate amount of digging. Even then, there had been only theories and postulation which had been dismissed as impossible, purely hypothetical and nothing more. The fact that Remus had seen evidence of time travel firsthand (or at least a very convincing ruse concocted by Professor Molotov for some unknowable reason) led him to believe that there was more happening that the average student wasn't to know about. Of course, there were always stories about the deepest levels of the Ministry of Magic, rooms within the Department of Mysteries devoted to things one could scarcely imagine. The existence of an apparently top-secret Department of Special Containment led him to believe that even those "in the know" weren't as entirely as enlightened as a select few.
Still, to some degree, Remus knew that he was searching in vain. A school library (even one compiled by Rowena Ravenclaw, the quintessential scholar herself) wasn't likely to hold any world-shattering secrets. Even in the Restricted Section, most of the information contained was that which had been deemed safe enough for the right sort of older teenaged wizard or witch to learn without fear of overly catastrophic consequences. There were, of course, other repositories of knowledge squirreled away within the walls that most students had only ever dreamt of finding. Rumor of Ravenclaw's private study was legend among her house, as well as reports of the sheer amount and scope of books contained within the headmaster's office. Remus had no hope of ever seeing those (the idea of a werewolf becoming a professor was laughable, much less headmaster), but it was fun to dream of such things.
No, Remus's library trips in the pursuit of chronomancy were really more of a pet project, something fun and interesting to look up. It also provided what he hated to admit was a reprieve from James and Sirius and their energy. They were charming, to be sure, but his patience for their antics often wore thin as the full moon drew closer.
"Remus?"
And, it seemed, he wasn't the only one. Though he sincerely doubted Peter Pettigrew's opinions were informed by lycanthropy.
"Hey, Peter," Remus said. "Homework?"
"Flitwick gave me extra Charms work," Peter said morosely. "Says I've been underperforming."
"It's only the first few months," Remus assured him. "You'll get the hang of it."
"I s'pose," Peter shrugged. "I wish I could be a natural at it like you are."
"Well, you're a dab hand at Herbology," Remus pointed out. "Isn't that your mum's specialty?"
"Yeah, and I'm alright at Potions," Peter said with a small smile. "Probably won't rate the Slug Club, though."
"I daresay none of us will be making the cut on that front," Remus said with a smirk, shaking his head as he put on a passable imitation of Professor Slughorn's doddering, deep voice. "'Not that any first-year has made it into the Slug Club in rather a few years, mind you.' Makes you wonder what sort of swotty boy Tom Riddle was."
"Tom Riddle?" a gruff voice spoke, and the two boys jumped at the sudden presence of Professor Molotov between the shelves. Pulling a cigar from his mouth, he issued a plume of sweet-scented smoke and peered down at the boys. "How d'you know that name?"
"Professor Slughorn mentioned him," Remus said, sharing a glance with Peter. "He was the youngest member of the Slug Club."
"The Slug Club," Professor Molotov spat with a contemptuous chuckle. "Horace gathers up all the talent he can find, makes pretend that he had a hand in 'cultivating' it, then pesters his former students evermore, looking for handouts and affirmations."
"Not a fan, then?" Remus said.
"Decidedly not," Professor Molotov said. "That man's a danger to himself and others. You'd do well to stay out of any extracurriculars involving him."
"I don't believe that was ever a concern," Peter said.
"Maybe for Sev," Remus pointed out. "He's already Slughorn's star pupil."
"Oi, don't complain overmuch," Peter said. "Sev's the only reason I'm passing Potions."
"You lot getting along with that boy, then?" Professor Molotov asked them. "I know he can be trying."
"He's not half bad at all," Remus said. "I like him."
"Me too," Peter nodded. "He's funny, but in a sort of quiet way."
"Professor," Remus said, "do you…mind if I ask you a question? About chronomancy?"
The professor's expression hardened into a shrewd mask as he studied Remus at those words. The bead on his cigar grew dim before he took another puff, exhaling another cloud of cloying sweetness along with a sigh.
"Learned a new word, have you?" he asked. "Proud of yourself? Feel like you've earned a bit more?"
"I have a natural curiosity," Remus said, and Molotov let a single sharp laugh.
"That's one way to say you're a nosy little blighter," he said, pointing his smoke accusingly at the boy. "What you planning to do if you delve into this mess? Hop around in time and mess about with causality? Play temporal tourist and watch the Pyramids be built?"
"I just…wanted to know," Remus said with a shrug. Molotov fixed him with a beady look before giving a tired grin.
"There are plenty of more worthy things to devote a curious mind to," he said. "Trust me, there's no sense for you to be filling your head with a bunch of meaningless jargon you'll never use a day in your life. What I do, what the folks I'm associated with do, it's nothing glamorous. It's not spending your morning hopping around medieval times then having lunch with Cleopatra. It's bleak. It's nothing a ten-year-old should be delving into."
"I'm eleven," Remus said.
"Someday you'll understand why that makes no difference," Molotov told him. "Study Charms. You're suited for it. Maybe see if your pal Severus will teach you a thing or two about brewing a good potion. Spend time with your friends. Don't pull threads best left dangling."
"How am I supposed to just…forget about it all?" Remus asked. "Even without the fact that boy was trying to kill Severus, the implications of time travel are completely fascinating!"
"Do you know what happens when lads like you dig too deep into this?" Molotov asked, puffing again on his cigar before flicking the ash away with a movement of his wand. "Time is fundamental to reality. It's also a force we can't begin to quantify or understand. We can't even agree what shape we think it is. A line, a circle, a web, a…big wibbly-wobbly ball. One thing we do know is it doesn't like to be mucked with. Disastrous things happen – "
He stopped, his eyes narrowing at something over Remus's shoulder. Feeling a prickling on the back of his neck, Remus spun and gasped when he saw a set of bright green eyes and a whirl of red hair ducking behind a shelf.
"Evans," Molotov sighed. "C'mon out, you nosey."
Remus watched as Lily slowly trotted out from behind a shelf, shoulders hunched and staring at her shoes.
"Um…hello, Remus," she said. "Peter."
"Oh, bugger," Peter muttered behind Remus.