The first weeks of the new year were colder than most Hogwarts students were used to. Remus Lupin felt that the constant wind penetrating the castle from the North of Scotland was very different from the light breeze that was usually blowing over the fields and the little cottage at the Southern end of Surry which he and his family inhabited.
His cousin Balbina, whom he had first met only a couple of months ago, had told him about the rough, sometimes snowy winters at Hogwarts, but he had not been able to imagine what the castle might look like when covered in thick layers of white, sticky snow, overflowing with Christmas trees and the various decorations Hagrid had put up in the corridors and on the walls of the Great Hall. Remus even spotted a few mistletoes here and there, but he and Peter took great care not to get too close to any of them, as they suspected that most people who were kissing under them were not actually doing it out of their own free will.
Within their first two weeks back Remus, James and Peter had built over fourteen snow people, all large and grim-looking – and jinxed, so that their heads were moving in the direction of by passers. James's work, naturally. Remus thought James Potter had to be the smartest boy he had ever met, even if he was a bit overconfident about it from time to time, as Sirius Black was happy to point out every time they happened to bump into each other… which happened, of course, every day of their busy lives.
Remus, although the circumstances were not new in themselves, noticed this with just a dash of crude disappointment. He had assumed that Black, if only forced to spend most of his time surrounded by people with a decent attitude towards halfbloods, he would soon see the error of his ways and befriend them. Or Peter, at least. Remus did not have much hope of being the very person to lead a potentially dark wizard into the light. He had never been very skilled at making friends, even if Balbina liked to point out that this was due to his shyness, not because people did not find his presence most entertaining and pleasant.
In any case, the holidays had not done much in favour of lightening the hatred between James Potter and Sirius Black. Indeed, for some reason the latter seemed determined to avoid pleasantries of all sorts at any time of the day and had (wordlessly) changed seats during Monday and Thursday preps with Lily Evans in order to sit as far away from James, Remus and Peter as possible.
Homework preparation time was getting more and more strenuous these days, due to most teachers' awareness that the pre-Christmas close season was over and exam time was approaching. Remus found that his achievements had improved greatly since last year, for the most part because of the much quieter prep times and, as he realized with a jolt of sudden happiness when the last weekend of January was approaching, because he was finally settling in at Hogwarts and was thus a great deal more relaxed in lessons. 'Capable of concentrating', as Balbina liked to put it.
Then, near the end of a most boring, abstract Charms lesson at the beginning of the new month, Remus decided to take action against the open hostility among the Gryffindor first-years. Professor Crockford was just explaining how the Charms lessons would be divided into "Charms" (as in doing magic) and "Latin", which served to deepen their general understanding of the spells they were using every day in practically every subject.
'It is essential,' she said, 'that you receive a full two hours of Latin tuition per week, because otherwise you'll keep making stupid mistakes such as mispronouncing "Wingardium Leviosa", which causes an explosion instead of the desired effect of levitation – as we all know from our previous lesson.' And she threw a reprimanding look at Peter, who shrank back in his chair, his eyes fixed unhappily at the surface of his desk.
Sirius Black and a few others laughed. Remus, on the other hand, shook his head and resolved suddenly, without realizing what he was doing, to inform Sirius Black of the stupidity of his actions, just to see how the much taller boy would react to this.
'Don't be an ass,' he scribbled on a small piece of parchment, intending it to sound good-humoured and playful. 'You know you like Peter. Deep inside. He can be foolish, but he can also stir up dreadfully boring lessons like no other student.'
'That isn't an excuse for being a stupid idiot,' was Black's offhand answer. 'And I am not an ass. Stop writing to me, mudblood.'
The message could not have been clearer. Remus shoved the piece of parchment back under his books and tried to suppress an angry scowl. Was he going to give up so soon? After a long while and a couple of fruitless attempts of declining "wingardium" (until he found out that this was not even a Latin word), Remus took out the parchment again and wrote in clear, well-chosen letters: 'I don't know whom you're addressing. Certainly not me, as my mother's line has a link to your father's somewhere near the beginning of this century, which makes us blood relatives. Besides, only fools use expressions which don't even clearly describe what the speaker intends to say.
Remus saw Black raise his eyebrows for a second when he was handed the parchment for a second time and his expression darken as he opened and read it. Slowly, very slowly, he moved up his head and shot Remus a look that would have made Peter Pettigrew crawl under his bench and beg for mercy. Remus suppressed a side-glance. He forced himself to return Black's look openly and, knowing that he had won the match just by returning the piece of parchment, gave him a broad, not unfriendly grin. Black scowled. Remus then felt a quill drilling into his shoulder and looked at James, who had noticed his friend's efforts of communicating with their fellow Gryffindor, and seemed most interested in what was going on.
'What did you write?'
'I told him to be more considerate about whom he's making fun of,' said Remus calmly.
James snorted. 'Don't be an ass,' he said, making Remus giggle about his choice of words. 'I've been laughing. Peter's little stunt yesterday was one of the funniest things that's happened during Charms so far.'
'Yes, but there's a difference in how you laughed and how he did,' argued Remus, realizing that he was on shaky ground here. James laughed.
'That's true,' he admitted, 'Some people laugh, others will do more of a… barking sound.' He grinned.
Remus heaved a small sigh and decided to smile.
'In any case,' said James, just a dash more seriously than before, 'you know how Crockford hands out detentions like other people hand out sweets, so I advise you to stop writing notes – particularly during Charms.'
Remus nodded. It was true, Professor Crockford had more than once put a student in detention for less than a secret piece of parchment, and he resolved to stick to his work for the rest of the lesson.
Black, however, seemed to think otherwise. Seconds later, the parchment returned, and this time Black seemed to have taken his time and given his reply a couple of thorough thoughts.
'Remus Lupin,' it read in large and elegant letters, 'you're a fine boy as such, but unfortunately not quite in my league. I can see why you wouldn't be capable of realizing how the blood lines work, considering your mudbloodism. It is true, your mother's line used to be one of the oldest ones there are left these days, but it ends with you. She is its last descendant, if you know what I mean. Marrying a Muggle means to end the line. You do not exist, Lupin, not in the eyes of any honourable pureblood. So you might understand why I prefer not to mix with you and your kind. I prefer real friends, not non-existent ones.'
Remus could feel James's breath along his neck and cheek as the black-haired boy was leaning over his shoulder, reading along, and snorting quietly every now and then. 'Mudbloodism?' he sneered. 'Who does he think he is? Tell him he is a stupid git and we don't want to have anything to do with him!'
Remus thought for a while, chewing his quill before scribbling in clear, primary school letters: 'This is rubbish. And you know it.'
Unfortunately, the lesson ended before Black got the chance to reply to this statement, but Remus knew he had read it, and he knew he had hit a nerve. Black stormed out of the classroom before any of them had the chance of addressing him, which Remus thought was probably the best solution, considering the look on James's face when he packed away his declension tables and the Charms book.
'Mr. Lupin,' said Professor Crockford as they were leaving the room when all other people had gone. 'I'd like a quick word, if you please.' She extended a large and heavy-looking book from her banded handbag. 'Professor Flitwick has asked me to give you this. He said you'd asked him if you could borrow it?'
Remus face lit. 'Yes, that's right,' he said happily, taking the book and trying to thrust it into his own bag. 'He told me he'd have to make a few arrangements first, but that, principally, I could have it for a day or two.'
Professor Crockford nodded. 'He would like you to return it tomorrow evening if that is not inconvenient.'
Remus froze and stared at the friendly looking witch for an uncomfortably long time. No. Tomorrow evening was not possible. Not at all, in fact. But how on earth was he going to convey this to her without making himself suspicious in James's eyes?
'Uhm… actually,' he muttered, 'it is… extremely inconvenient. Would it be possible if I gave it to him on Monday? Tomorrow really is a bad time…' he threw a side-glance at James and took a deep breath. 'And two days won't be enough to wolf down such a large piece of…' he hesitated for another moment, trying very much to sound sarcastic to James's ears, '…literature.'
Professor Crockford, who had been frowning at first, flinched just slightly at his choice of words and nodded quickly. 'I'll ask him if it would be possible for you to keep it over the weekend.'
'Thank you, Professor,' said Remus with a relieved sigh, and he and James ran down the corridor to catch up with the others.
'What was all that about?' panted James when they were out of earshot.
'Nothing,' said Remus. 'I just don't want to read all this in one day.'
'Apart from the fact that no one would… what was all that about?' repeated James. 'Crockford went all pale and looked as if you were about to eat her.'
'Nothing,' said Remus again, turning round the corner and entering the Great Hall. 'Stop asking.'
And fortunately, when they joined the Gryffindor table, James seemed suddenly more interested in a couple of fifth years' conversation about the latest Quidditch match against Ravenclaw than about the scene he had just witnessed. Remus realised just how difficult it would be to keep his secret for seven long years especially from James, who was not only extremely bright, but apparently turning into what was – had to be – something people generally called a 'best friend'.