Four Thirds
Rated: -T- For brief, strong language.
Author's Notes: A big thank-you to HollyCKY for the beta; she's amazing::grovel:
Dear Remus,
How was your transformation? Have you caught up on your schoolwork? You can't fall behind – the Headmaster has done a kind thing, letting you in. It would be shameful for you to fail now.
I worry, during the full moon. Sometimes I wish you could just stay at home with us! But that's selfish; of course you deserve to go to school. Why, you'll probably go down in Hogwarts: A History for being the first werewolf to attend! But I'm sure you don't care about that sort of thing now, darling. At your age, all anyone ever cares about is what everyone else thinks!
Anyway, your cousin, Ellen, is getting married to that nice Muggle she's been dating for years. It'll be a winter wedding, and of course they've asked me to cater …
Remus skimmed the rest of the prattle about Cousin Ellen and her fiancé, and his mother's enormous part in the planning of the ceremony. He noted, with disgust, that he would be forced to visit for two weeks and attend the wedding; what a perfect waste of his Christmas holiday!
His mother's letters were often fluttery and pointless, like this one. 'She does it,' he thought, 'to cover up for how nervous she is.'It never worked on Remus. The wolfish parts of him thought she cared too much about what everyone else thought; the boyish parts didn't want to wonder if she was ashamed.
A voice interrupted his thoughts with a call of "Oi, Remus! You in there?" He thought it was Sirius, standing at the door. He looked around the curtain to check, but saw no one.
"Ooofh," He moaned when the unseen speaker attacked. Remus felt fingers – Peter's, probably – trying to tickle him. James repeatedly whapped his head with a pillow and Sirius sat squarely on his chest.
"When'd'ya get back?" Sirius demanded breathlessly.
"A few minutes ago. Please get—" Remus was quiet breathless now; having one's best friend atop one's ribs tended to do that.
"And why weren't you at dinner?" James demanded, continuing with his relentless attack with the pillow. It was Remus's favorite pillow, too.
"I told you, I just got back. Geroff, Sirius!" Remus unexpectedly rolled on his side and Sirius tumbled head-first to the floor.
"Owwwww—" Sirius howled, flopping about on the floor and upsetting a pile of books next to Remus's bed. The James, Remus, and Peter shared a look.
"Oh, stop being so dramatic!" James dumped Remus's bag of Bertie Bott's onto Sirius's head.
"Ack! James, they're ruined –"
"Well, you'd eaten all the good ones, anyway. You're down to bogey, earwax, and vomit now." Sirius said from the floor.
"But that's the last of my trolley sweets. What'm I gonna do now?"
"Visit Dumbledore's office everyday and stuff your pockets?" Sirius suggested, grinning cheekily and stuffing a vomit in his mouth with little regard for personal safety. He grimaced and swallowed, crinkling his nose in disgust before hopefully sorting through the rest of the beans.
"No, we've got Hogsmeade trips this year, mate! And we'll be able to go to Zonko's…"
"And Honeydukes," Remus mumbled as James prattled on. He looked around, hoping Peter would share his appreciation -- and the remainder of his trolley sweets. However, the other boy was gone.
"Hey, where'd Peter go?" James asked, voicing Remus's thoughts. Sirius shrugged.
"We need him, if we're going to do the thing with the monkey and McGonagall's cold cream. You comin', Remus?"
"No. I think I'm out for tonight. I'm dead tired; travel wears me out." Remus waved them off, falling back on his bed.
"'K. G'night, then."
"Night." Sirius and James tromped off in search of Peter, and Remus turned back to his letter.
Except, his letter wasn't there anymore. He threw aside his pillows and blankets; it wasn't on his bed. It wasn't on the floor, under his bed, or in his dresser. Nor was it on anyone else's bed or dresser. Surely no one had had the time to pick it up and hide it except – except Peter. Peter had the letter. 'And when he reads the letter he'll know about me and he'll tell other people. And I'll be sent home or something! I could be killed! Put down like a dog…'
"Oh, fuck," he said in a low voice, falling back on his bed. More gloomy curses followed as he pulled his blanket over his head.
"Don't tell me you're chickening out now—" Peter glanced up from the parchment as his two roommates bounded into the common room.
"I am not chickening out," He said, a little too insistently, while waving the parchment above his head. "Read this!"
"Wha's'at?" Sirius snatched it. Peter glowered for a moment, but was interrupted when Sirius whapped his head, hard.
"You're reading Remus's mail, now, Pete?" James asked coldly.
"This is an emergency – just read it," Peter said. Sirius glared at him suspiciously, but James was already reading.
"What transformation?" he asked.
"And why was it kind for Dumbledore to let him in?" Sirius added.
They both reached it at almost the same time. James made a strangled noise and Sirius paled.
"Well," James said. "That explains a lot." Sirius nodded.
Peter gaped at them. "Is that all you can say?" He asked. "That – that thing is living with us!"
"It's bloody brilliant! Why didn't he tell us?" Sirius asked, eyes aglow at the prospect of the sort of mischief werewolves might cause. James shook his head, his mad grin beginning to form and grow.
"He turns into a beast once a month and you think it's 'bloody brilliant?'" Peter squeaked.
"Hello? Have you met Remus Lupin? Anything he'd turn into can't be too beastly! But wouldn't it be cool, running around, being a wolf!" Sirius mimed sharp, snapping teeth with his hands.
"You two," Peter proclaimed, "are absolutely off your rockers. I'm going to see Dumbledore." He stormed toward the door, and then turned. "And I hope Lupin eats both of you!"
He stomped down the corridor, pushing a first-year out of his way. 'Someone has to do something,' he fumed, 'and I'm not sleeping in the room with that thing!' He stomped past the kitchens without noticing, growling and mumbling to himself. In the corner of his eye, he saw Snape staring at him suspiciously, but Peter did not care. 'There is a bloody werewolf in my bloody dorm and it is not bloody brilliant!'
'Dumbledore can't possibly know about this! I mean – surely Lupin's family – pack – whatever is lying to him, too!' Peter slowed thoughtfully. He wondered if it was possible to lie to the headmaster. 'Those sixth-years,' he thought, 'said he could read minds. Sirius and James and Re – the thing – may not believe them, but I do.' He imagined the old man prying into his mind and shuddered. 'Perhaps this isn't such a good idea at all.' But by the time he thought that, he was already standing at the gargoyle. He sighed. 'And, anyway, I don't know the password…'
Peter almost convinced himself to turn around and apologize to James and Sirius when the gargoyle swung aside and his Head of House came through the door behind it.
"Pettigrew? What are you doing here?" McGonagall asked, not looking at him but instead sorting distractedly through a stack of papers.
"I, uh, wanted to see the Headmaster," He mumbled, slouching a bit and staring at his shoes.
McGonagall's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to see the Headmaster? He's very busy."
Peter shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "I – er, I mean – it's about…" Later, he wished he had said 'the werewolf sleeping three feet away from me' but he could think of nothing so witty then, "…Remus," he mumbled.
McGonagall stared at him a moment, as though not hearing him properly, and then turned around sharply. "Chocolate-covered grasshoppers. Follow me, Pettigrew."
Peter followed her march past the gargoyle and very nearly lost his balance when the stairs began to move. At the top was the most amazing office he'd ever seen: silver instruments, books, and sweets covered every surface.
Behind his desk, Dumbledore sat, peering over the clutter. Peter had never seen Dumbledore this close, and now he stared at the snowy-white beard and the bushy eyebrows. Finally, he met the hypnotic, twinkling blue eyes. He snapped from his rude stare when the headmaster blinked. Peter suddenly felt very afraid.
"Back so soon, Professor McGonagall?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes not leaving Peter's face.
"Pettigrew," McGonagall gestured at Peter, "wishes to speak to you about Mr. Lupin."
Peter resisted the urge to groan. 'She knows. And if she knows, he knows, and then there's nothing for it.' He wished very much to turn and run.
"Ah, I thought it was only a matter of time before one of you would speak on the subject. Minerva, I'll have him back to his dormitory before curfew." With that, McGonagall turned and left, leaving the Headmaster and Peter alone.
"So," began Dumbledore, "has the snoring finally become too much for you? I don't blame you; it must be heard in the farthest corners of the Slytherin dorms!"
Peter gasped, "No, sir! Don't you know?"
"Oh, it must be about the smell of his feet, which is a slightly better-kept secret. But if you'd just plug your nose, I'm sure it would be no bother."
"Sir! He – it – is a werewolf!" Peter gasped, his face flushing.
Dumbledore exhaled loudly and then smiled. "Ah, yes, that is what I feared you were here to ask about."
"We're all in danger, and, um…uh," Peter stammered, forgetting most of his speech in the presence of this intimidating man and his amazing office. 'Really, though,' he thought, 'why should I have to explain not wanting to room with a werewolf?'
"Twenty-nine nights of thirty, Mr. Lupin is no more dangerous than your other roommates." Dumbledore paused, and added dryly, "Perhaps less so."
"Y-yes sir, but that one night!" Peter protested.
"On that one night, he is in a place where he can harm no one but himself."
"B-but what if he escaped…?"
"He won't. May I offer you a lemon drop?" Peter frowned but took it. 'Candy makes me think better, anyway.'
"Yes, sir, but how do you know?" Peter's voice took on a distinctly whiney tone at this point, his eyes widening and nose scrunching in a rather unattractive manner. He knew people said Dumbledore was wise, but what sort of crazy let a werewolf into a school?
"Every full moon, Mr. Lupin is spelled and locked into a place he couldn't possibly escape from. He is alone for the twelve hours from dusk to sunrise, unable to do anything to satisfy the werewolf's instinct to devour humans. He is betrayed by his own body.
"Surely you have noticed the odd bruises and scratches on the rare occasions you see any of Mr. Lupin's skin." Peter shifted; actually, no one besides Sirius really paid Remus that much attention.
"Those are self-inflicted. He becomes so frustrated with being unable to satisfy his instincts that he literally tears himself up." Dumbledore shook his head sadly before continuing: "Mr. Pettigrew, you may feel unworthy next to Messrs. Black and Potter," Dumbledore looked at Peter expectantly.
'What does he want, a confession of my unworthiness?' Peter remained silent.
"However, Mr. Lupin thinks of himself as inhuman and unworthy of friends and an education. Could you imagine feeling unworthy of things every other child in your society is almost guaranteed?"
Peter cursed silently. 'Of course I can imagine it; I didn't think I'd make any friends after primary school and I was dumb and – Stop it! He's making you feel sorry for the thing!' But it was too late.
"Remus needs good friends more than most. I have counted on the fact that you -- and Mr. Potter and Mr. Black – would be those good friends. Before becoming Mr. Lupin's enemy, please consider that."
Peter shifted under Dumbledore's gaze. "I – uh," but it was no use. His righteous anger was gone. He lowered his head and mumbled: "Yes, sir."
Potions carried on the next day as usual; actually, not so much 'usual' as 'unusual in a pleasant way.' James and his friends left Snape alone during individual work, and only one cauldron exploded.
"Lupin!" Slughorn roared as Remus's cauldron made a deafening nose and covered the boy in green dust. James watched Remus flinch away, looking more concerned at the prospect of being yelled at than any ill after-effects of the dust.
'Wonder what it's like, being yelled at by a bloke you could rip to bits,' James thought. 'Why doesn't he tell everyone? And then all the teachers would be so afraid of him that they'd leave all of us alone!'
Slughorn was going on and on about how it was the blue, puréed newt's gut first, then the green frog's skin juice. The bottles had no labels, of course; Slughorn believed any student worth passing could tell the difference.
'Except … werewolves are colorblind! No wonder he's abysmal at Potions!'
James as about to speak up, but then he remembered three things. First, Remus currently deserved to be yelled at. Second, if any of the other students reacted like Peter, Remus would probably be expelled by the Board of Governors. 'Third,' he realized, 'Slughorn has to already know!
'Otherwise,' he thought, 'Remus wouldn't be able to make up all that work.' James had wondered why Remus wasn't a shoo-in for Slughorn's little group of favorites, like Lily. He supposed being a werewolf might not be that much fun, after all. 'Still, he should have told his best mates!'
James didn't see Remus in the halls; of course, Sirius's plans for Snape's supper had a monopoly on his thoughts, so he admittedly was not looking. When they arrived in Transfiguration, however, Remus was already there.
The class was strained. The usual arrangement was James with Sirius and Remus with Peter. However, when McGonagall asked them to pair up, Peter chose the Ravenclaw girl usually forced to work with McGonagall because of her abysmal practical skills, leaving Remus to work with the teacher.
Sirius sniggered at Remus's predicament, but James realized this wasn't the punishment Peter had intended. Remus got on with his work alone, and Peter was stuck with a useless partner.
Lunch was even more awkward. James and the others arrived first and sat in their usual spots. He watched Remus enter the Great Hall. The light-haired boy seemed to puzzle about where he should sit for a moment, before moving toward his usual chair. Sirius and Peter slung their bags in the seat. James worried Remus would make some sort of scene – or even worse, cry. Instead, Remus scanned the table, looking desperate to find an empty seat. He didn't see any, so he just stood there, looking rather dejected.
'He really is going to cry this time,' James thought. Before Remus could make a fool of himself, however, Lily Evans got up and dragged him over to her large clump of female friends.
"That little sod," Sirius hissed. James smirked, wickedly.
"You're just mad he's figured out a way to be surrounded by all those girls before you," Peter said. James snorted, which Sirius took as a personal offence.
"Maybe," Sirius said to James, "but look at who he's pressed up against on that bench-" James did look, and said several unprintable things about Remus. Peter sniggered.
Between grinding his teeth and glaring at Remus, James hissed: "From now on – total silent treatment. He doesn't exist."
After classes, Remus disappeared for several hours. When he came back, he looked more than a bit teary-eyed.
"I wonder when that werewolf will get back," Sirius said to Peter. Peter stiffened and looked at James, who nodded, urging Peter to follow Sirius's lead.
"I don't know, but I bet he's been telling on us," Peter sneered.
Sirius smirked, "Do werewolves cry?"
Remus shouted, "I didn't tell!" No one looked up, but Peter flinched when he slammed his books the dresser.
"And I've been doing my homework." Remus paused before adding, "With Lily Evans and her friends."
James's grip caused him to snap the quill he was holding in half.
"Did you hear something, Sirius?"
"Nope. Peter?"
"No, just the wind, I think."
It continued in much the same way for almost four weeks; the only thing that changed was the conversation, which became crueler.
The afternoon of the full moon, James returned from class to find Sirius and Peter had broken the silence.
"You goin' to see your mum?" Peter asked sarcastically.
Sirius smirked, "I'd be sick a lot, too, if you were my son!"
James stood in the doorway. He watched Remus's lips as they started to quiver and his eyes as they began to tear up. 'Please don't cry!' he thought, 'I hate it when people just go about crying in front of other people!'
"F-fine!" Remus shouted, with tears in his eyes. "I know you hate me," his voice broke and became a whisper here, "but I'll be gone forever soon, so please just leave me alone!"
"Gone?" Sirius yelped.
James's mouth fell open.
"Says who?" demanded Peter.
"Yes, gone. You won't have to see me again, ever. And no one has to say it."
Peter and Sirius jointly voiced James's thoughts: "Why?"
"I'm sure you're parents are going to the Governors right now -- if they haven't already been -- and they'll make me leave. So you won't have to share a dorm with a werewolf anymore." Remus's voice had become strangely level.
"This isn't about you being a werewolf!" Sirius exclaimed. Remus gave him a strange look.
"Well, yes, it is. But what he," James gestured toward Sirius, "is trying to say is that it's the fact you didn't tell us! Bloody hell, Remus, we don't want you to be expelled!"
"You don't?" Remus sniffled.
"No! Being a werewolf," Sirius said, "is beyond brilliant!"
Remus stared at Sirius with wide eyes and pressed lips. "No," he said, "it isn't" and he walked from the room.
Sirius looked around and readjusted the invisibility cloak. Madam Pomfrey almost stepped on him, but Sirius scuttled out of her path just in time.
"Poor dear," the nurse sniffed and reached to shake Remus's shoulder, waking him to administer a potion.
'Yuck,' Sirius thought, and winced.
Pomfrey paused on her way out. Crossing his fingers and wincing, Sirius tried to remain very still. 'Don't find me, don't find me, I'm not here—'
But she turned, pointed her wand around the room, and said: "Accio invisibility cloak!"
The cloak floated away from Sirius, despite his attempts to hold on. The nurse frowned at him.
"Uh –"
"What are you doing here, Black?"
Sifting through his collection of lies and finding nothing, he settled on the truth.
"I'm here to see Remus," he said finally.
"And do you know why he's here?" She asked, her frown deepening.
Sirius found he could not lie to the woman so he nodded.
"Please come to my office."
'I am going to die,' he thought, sulking behind her into the small, brightly-colored room. He watched as Pomfrey spelled the office to be sound proof. 'She is going to murder me, and no one is ever going to know and they'll never find my body!'
"What did Lupin tell you?" she barked. Sirius slunk into a seat.
"He didn't exactly tell us –" he began.
"Us? Who else?"
"J-James Potter. 'N' Peter Pettigrew, and Peter talked to Dumbledore, I think…"
"So Dumbledore is aware of," she made a vague hand gesture that did not at all refer to her slightly cluttered office, "this?"
"I think so. He knows Peter knows, but I don't know if he knows that we know, or if he knows that Remus knows that we know–"
"Do be quiet, Mr. Black," she reached into her desk and pulled out a headache potion. In one gulp, and without so much as a grimace, she took the entire vile. Sirius resisted the urge to comment. "I suggest, before passing judgment, you should read up on the subject of Lupin's … condition."
Sirius almost said he didn't know what sort of judgment she expected him to pass, but he held his peace.
"I've read all the books in the library on Lycanthropy …" The word hung between them for a moment.
"Not these. They haven't been in the library since the start of your first year. Members of the faculty were concerned that students would figure it out." She piled three huge books on his lap: Anatomy of the Werewolf, Lycanthropy: A Modern History (1940), and The Mind of the Wolf Man. "Read them. Understand that Lupin had no part in becoming what he is. And keep your mouth shut around whoever doesn't already know."
"Why doesn't he tell people?" He asked after a moment of her glaring.
"Because if parents found out, he would not be allowed to remain in school. And that isn't an invitation to tell yours, unless you'd like a trip to St. Mungo's courtesy of Hagrid."
Sirius stared at Pomfrey with awe. "You just threatened me!" he exclaimed, beaming.
She nodded.
"I'll be going, then—"
"Not so fast. Five points from Gryffindor for deceiving a member of the faculty. And I'll be keeping that invisibility cloak, thank you."
Sirius put his head in his hands, 'James is going to kill me!'
But James was asleep when he returned, so he changed and crawled into bed. He pulled the maroon curtains around the bed and fumbled around for his wand.
"Lumos," he whispered. Spreading the books in front of him, he wondered, 'Which to read?' He picked the thinnest, the one with the red binding: Mind of the Wolf-Man.
Sirius flipped pages quickly, knowing he would read it all later. There were several photos of carnage and werewolves in wolf and human form, most of which made him feel rather squeamish. One caught his eye: a small boy grinning and swinging his feet while seated, next to a man that was apparently his father, in what looked like a waiting room. The boy had light hair and bright eyes, and two long scratches across his face. 'He looks just like…'
Sirius put his finger on the caption, whispering what he read: "Remus Lupin; age eight. Bitten, age four. Photo taken third of June, 1968, at the Werewolf Management Office, Ministry of Magic, London."
The accompanying paper bore the title "Lycanthropy in Early Childhood." It, too, mentioned Remus.
In the case of Remus Lupin, 8, coping seems to be progressing normally. He was bitten at age 4 and until a few months ago, his mind blocked out his transformations and the entirety of the full moon; however, he is now beginning to retain memories upon reassuming his human shape. This supports the theory…
"Damn. Four. Barely out of nappies," he whispered. Unthinkingly, he slammed the book, startling himself.
"'Ey!" Peter mumbled.
"Wake up! Both of you!"
"Are you off your rocker?" James demanded.
"No. Get up, it's about Remus."
"It can't wait until morning?" Peter said around a yawn, not bothering to sit up for fear of letting out all the warmth of his covers.
"No. Look, we've been prats," Peter made a noise of objection, but James nodded his agreement, sitting up.
"And," Sirius continued, "I think we should apologize." James gaped at him and Sirius scowled back. "…Or something," he added after a moment.
"Right. C'n we go back to sleep?" James asked, not bothering to stifle a yawn.
"No! See, I've been thinking about doing something to make it up to him, and it fits right in with this crazy idea I had…"