Y1, C7: Slughorn's Goldfish Mouth

Herbology was rather uneventful. Remus was never really one for plants—although he did get to stand next to James, Sirius, and Peter, who made things so much more interesting. They had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs (or plant-loving weirdos, as Sirius had called them). Professor Sprout seemed to be a little afraid of Remus, but Remus didn't mind. She wasn't hostile towards him whatsoever, and the sights and smells in the greenhouse tended to be very soothing (except for the manure, but nothing was perfect).

Potions was a different story. Remus sat at a table with Peter, while Sirius and James sat together, and Lily sat with a dark-haired boy whom James called Snivellus. The seating wasn't the problem, however; Remus enjoyed Peter's company, and Peter wasn't nearly as senseless as he had made himself out to be. No, the problem was that the potions ingredients had very strong scents. Remus' nose started burning violently as soon as he set foot in the classroom. What was more... wolfsbane was apparently a very common potions ingredient.

A wave of nausea rushed over him as he took his seat. "All right there, Remus?" asked Peter. "You're all pale and sweaty."

"M'fine, thanks, Peter," said Remus, even though he wasn't. The smell of wolfsbane positively filled his nostrils, along with various herbs... and beetle eyes... and frog legs... and wolfsbane, which was sitting on a table on the other side of the room. "I think I'm allergic to something in here or something. My nose is all runny."

"It doesn't look like an allergy. We can visit Madam Pomfrey..."

"No," said Remus. He'd be seeing enough of her in a few days. "I'll wait it out and talk to the Potions professor after class."

"If you say so," said Peter.

The Potions professor, a stocky man by the name of Slughorn, wouldn't stop staring at Remus. Remus, as a result, refused to meet his eyes—so the rest of class was a mess of nausea and awkward eye-contact avoidance. All in all, it was not Remus' favorite class. They didn't even brew anything; they only talked about how useful potions could be (while, of course, surrounded by potions ingredients that made Remus's head hurt terrifically).

After class, Remus urged Peter to go on without him. Peter did so: reluctantly at first, but more willingly after he realized he'd get some more time alone with James and Sirius. Peter seemed to worship them.

After the students left the classroom, Remus gathered every ounce of courage he possessed and walked up to Slughorn's desk. "Professor Slughorn? I need to talk to you."

"Yes, m'boy, what is it? Are you feeling quite well?" Slughorn was still making some extremely uncomfortable eye contact with Remus, so Remus looked at a stray hair protruding from Slughorn's head rather than his eyes.

"Well, no... I'm, er, allergic to something in here… you know, one of the things set out on the desk… and it's making me uncomfortable... could you perhaps move it somewhere else? I don't want to be a bother, but I can't focus... and if you don't want to move it, I can soldier through, I suppose; only if it's not an inconvenience..."

Slughorn tilted his head and laughed. "I'm going to need more clarification than that!"

"Erm, aconite," said Remus. He was aware that his face was quite red, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Oh." Slughorn seemed to be thinking very hard. "That makes sense. I won't set it out unless we're using it, and I'll alert you somehow on the days we'll be using it in class. As long as you study the theory, then I see no reason why you should have to attend and risk your own safety."

That seemed very generous. "Really, sir?"

"Of course. On one condition."

"Er… yes?"

"I'm having a meeting on Sunday evening. The Slug Club, I like to call it: I invite all the students who I think are going to be something. And I'm never wrong. Would you like to attend?"

Remus was touched. Then angry. It was only because he was a werewolf. Slughorn didn't know anything of his abilities; he only wanted him as a specimen—something to stare at. Besides, Remus wasn't going to be anything. He was a werewolf who was never going to get a proper job… never going to live comfortably… never going to lead a normal life. And Sunday afternoon? Really?

Remus took a deep breath. I'm not angry, he thought. It's not Slughorn's fault; he's only interested. I would be, too.

"Sir, I'm honored, but I'll be... preoccupied Sunday evening."

"With what? Sundays at Hogwarts aren't typically busy," Slughorn chortled.

Remus reminded himself that he wasn't the center of the world, of course, and he couldn't expect his teachers to keep track of every full moon like he did. "On Sunday evening, Professor, I have to be strictly restrained for the safety of the school," he said. He had meant to be euphemistic, but it only sounded sarcastic. Darn this stupid sarcasm that he had inherited from his parents! Had the encounter with Questus taught him nothing?

Slughorn's mouth opened slightly in a way that rather reminded Remus of a goldfish. "Well, couldn't you pop down right before and then leave early? It starts at seven, and the moon doesn't rise until... what? Eight-thirty?"

"It doesn't work like that, I'm afraid," said Remus as politely as he could muster. It was very difficult to do so. In through the nose, out through the mouth, he reminded himself. "But I might come to the next one if you really want me there."

"Of course I do, my boy!" said Slughorn. "I'll let you know when I have a date and time. And I'll be sure to schedule it on a certain day when a certain someone isn't... 'restrained'." Slughorn winked, and Remus felt relieved that Slughorn wasn't angry with him like Professor Questus had been. "Run along, now. I believe you have Transfiguration next. If you're late, then just tell Professor McGonagall I kept you; she'll understand!"

"Thank you, sir," Remus said. "And the aconite...?"

"I'll be sure to move it. You really are looking awful."

"Thank you so much." Remus hurried out of the room. His face regained more and more color the further he walked from the wolfsbane, and his spirits lifted the further he walked from Slughorn's staring eyes and goldfish mouth.

Peter, James, and Sirius had saved Remus a seat in Transfiguration, and he was thankful for it. Their jovial attitudes were just what Remus needed to get his mind off of Slughorn's goldfish mouth.

Transfiguration, Remus decided as the class progressed, was pretty fun. He still hadn't used his wand yet, but he found that he loved learning theory. Professor McGonagall seemed to avoid him a little, but she was more careful about it than Sprout had been. He loved the way she smelled—a very distinctive parchment smell that was reminiscent of books. No, he chided in his head, That's much too creepy to admit, even to yourself.

Charms was the same way (all theory and no action), except Remus very much liked Professor Flitwick. He was uncommonly short, and Remus wondered if he was half-elf—there was no judgement, as far as Remus was concerned. Apparently, Flitwick felt the same way, because he was the first of Remus' teachers to treat him exactly like every other student. He wasn't even obviously trying to do so; it just seemed to come naturally. Remus couldn't keep the grin off of his face, even when Sirius asked him if he was drunk or something.

Professor Binns, who was the ghostly teacher of History of Magic, didn't discriminate either... but Remus doubted that Binns was aware of anything at this point. Remus loved history, though; he found taking notes to a monotonous voice quite peaceful. Dead boring, but peaceful.

Dead boring. That could be a good pun. He'd have to tell that one to James and Sirius and Peter.

Flying class was another matter entirely. It was not peaceful. It was not fun. It was not something Remus felt that he could ever be good at. It was nice, however, seeing James so overly excited at the prospect of flying a broom. "Look at my broom!" James told Remus, brandishing his personal broomstick. "It's a Cleansweep—not the best model, but pretty good. I'm definitely going to try out for Chaser. I'll be the best Quidditch player ever!"

Sirius sighed. "He's been going on like this for ages, Remus. Shut him up; I don't care how. Knock him over the head with his own broomstick. I'd do it myself, but I've already done that twice today."

"How did you like Professor Binns?" Remus asked James mischievously. "I thought he was... dead boring."

That did indeed shut James up, but set Sirius off on another laughing spree. "Are you serious, mate?" said James. "It wasn't that funny. It was kinda pathetic."

"Dead serious," said Sirius between gasps of hysterical laughter.

"You look pretty alive to me," said Remus.

Sirius looked as if he was going to die of asphyxiation.

James looked as if he was going to die of annoyance.

Peter should have died a long time ago, judging by how incredibly starstruck he was by James' broom.

The fun ended all too soon as Madam Hooch proceeded with flying instructions. "Put your hands over your broom, like so, and firmly say up. Do not take off until I give the signal."

James' broom flew into his hand immediately, and Sirius' followed after about five minutes. Remus took three times that. He remembered reading somewhere that brooms could sense fear and responded best to confidence, but he couldn't get the stupid fear out of his voice for quite some time.

The Hufflepuff boy next to Remus was still struggling, and looked very red in the face—out of anger or embarrassment, Remus couldn't tell. "It's all right," said Remus kindly. "Just say it a bit more angrily—like you're in control."

"UP!" The broom inched into the boy's hand, and Remus felt an odd sense of pride in having helped him. Madam Hooch noticed, but she wouldn't meet Remus' eyes. Remus didn't mind.

Even after Madam Hooch gave the signal, Remus was afraid to float more than a few inches off the ground. He was quite content to watch James soaring around, whooping with joy, and Sirius struggling to keep up but doing so admirably.

Nothing notable happened in Astronomy. Remus was trying not to look at the almost-full moon, and it was too cold and too late at night for anyone else to focus properly anyway. Professor Sidus had to dismiss them early.

"Don't forget to study Jupiter!" Sidus called after them, probably knowing full well that no one was going to study Jupiter.

Sirius and James stayed in the dorm all evening, having a pillow fight and recounting the day's events. Peter watched, giggled, and looked as if he wanted to join in. Remus, after feeding Bufo, started composing a letter to his mum and dad. He felt a bit guilty that he hadn't done so earlier.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I don't know what I was so worried about; Hogwarts is wonderful. All the professors are ever so nice, and hardly any of them stare even though they know what I am. It's so nice talking to people my own age. There are three boys—Sirius, Peter, and James—who are very kind and funny, although I think it's too early to call them "friends". There's also a girl named Lily who sits next to me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She's nice.

Dumbledore was wearing quite the getup today—I think that every Hogwarts House color was on his robes… except they were all neon. Speaking of Houses, I was put into Gryffindor. Dumbledore told me that it's not about what we are (I don't feel very brave) but what we could be or want to be (I think, but I wasn't paying too much attention). I thought that was interesting. I wonder if the Hat can tell the future or if it simply measures current potential. Dumbledore said that it's never been wrong, but I don't see how anyone could know that.

I would write more, but I'm exhausted. It's been fun though… even though James didn't like the pun that I made about Professor Binns (he's dead boring). The arrangements for Sunday evening sound very thorough; I'm not worried at all. Dumbledore knows what he's doing. I'll write to you directly after. Madam Pomfrey seems very kind.

I can feel you both worrying all the way from here, so please stop and let me enjoy myself in peace.

All my love—

"Writing Mummy and Daddy already?" said Sirius loudly, peeking over Remus' shoulder. Remus flipped the letter over as quickly as he could.

"That's private."

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't see anything... sheesh." Sirius resumed his pillow fight with James, and Remus quickly signed his name and folded up the letter. He placed it in his trunk to mail the following morning.

"I'm going to take a shower," he announced. "Try not to die until I get back; I would so like to see that."

James laughed as he planted a hit directly to Sirius' face. Sirius yelped in pain and reciprocated.

Remus didn't know what to expect from the Hogwarts showers, but he quickly learned that the water was warm and refreshing. It soothed both Remus' aching muscles and his nerves, though he could still feel the full moon in every fiber of his body, every nerve, every cell...

"I don't think that you should do that," came Peter's voice from inside the dorm.

"Why not? I'm curious! Plus, I've learned a few unlocking charms over the summer, and I'd like to test them out." James said.

"He has been acting rather suspicious," Sirius said. "He'll never know..."

Oh, realized Remus, they're planning on going through my trunk. A smile grew on his face. He had been practicing magic on that trunk all summer—hexes in particular. His father had taught him very carefully, seeing as it was very important for Remus to keep certain things hidden. Remus wasn't worried one bit. He ignored the surprised shrieks from his roommates as he shut the shower off and changed into his nightclothes.

"All right in there?" he asked lazily, coming into the dorm room. "Pink's a nice look on you lot."

Indeed, Sirius, James, and Peter were all sporting bright pink skin. Best of all, Remus' trunk was still firmly locked.

"Change us back!" said Sirius firmly.

"No can do," said Remus. "It was all I could do to learn the spells; I'm afraid I don't know the countercurse. I wish you had used Bombarda—that would have made your hair fall out..." Truth was, he did know the countercurses, in theory, but he was afraid that they would go horribly wrong on his first go. "You'd better go visit the matron, then."

Ten minutes later, Sirius, James, and Peter were in the Hospital Wing, and Remus was enjoying complete silence.

Hogwarts, he thought, really wasn't so bad. Even if he did have to sleep by the window.

Classes were attended, charms were cast, pillows were thrown, puns were made (it was too tempting with a Herbology teacher named Sprout)—and, before Remus knew it, it was Sunday.

And Remus was seriously considering going home.

Everything hurt. His head hurt, his skin hurt, his bones hurt, his muscles hurt, his heart hurt, his brain hurt... it hurt to breath, to think, to feel...

And it was only four-thirty in the morning.

Remus stumbled out of bed, ignoring his splitting headache. "All right, Remus?" mumbled a half-asleep James.

"Yeah. Going to get some homework done. Can't sleep," Remus rasped. He placed Bufo on his shoulder, grabbed a book, and then went down to the common room. He hoped that he wasn't breaking curfew by being out of his dorm. He probably was, come to think of it—but what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't as if he could serve a detention tonight.

He stumbled around the room, pacing back and forth, hoping to calm his nerves and relax his muscles. Everything was so loud. He could hear every student snoring—smell them—taste them in the air. Like a snake, almost. Remus vaguely wondered if he was secretly a snake. That would be better than a wolf, at least. Snakes didn't have claws.

He pulled out his wand and the book. There was nothing else to do, so he would try to learn how to Conjure water. He hadn't been able to do so at home, but Merlin, did he need something to focus on. He only knew a few spells—he knew countless incantations, but always had trouble casting them.

After thirty minutes of futile trying, Remus was ready to throw something. He climbed up on an armchair and smushed his face into the cushions as hard as he could.

It didn't help.

Remus hated these hours before the full moon, and they were so much worse without the quiet full moon routine that he'd always had at home. He missed choking down a cup of tea at five in the morning. He missed reading a book on the couch with his mum. He missed reading a large stack of books all day until his eyes grew blurry. He missed pacing around his room until he felt as if his head was going to explode. It was better than this—than hiding the fact that he felt awful, breaking curfew, and trying not to wake anyone.

He sank back into the armchair and closed his eyes, feeling utterly defeated. Bufo croaked. "Oh, shut up," Remus whispered. "I'm fine and you know it."

He pulled out his Herbology textbook and memorized passage after passage, not really comprehending the words. His head was swimming.

Bufo croaked again. "Bufo, I'm gonna need to you be quiet before you wake anyone else up." Remus glanced at the clock. "Is it really seven already?"

"Ribbit."

"It's not that much worse than usual," Remus lied, and then groaned. "Yes, it is. Just my luck that my first day at Hogwarts had to be the worst full moon of the year. Though I suppose there's no predicting how bad it's going to be, really. Maybe there's still hope."

"Ribbit."

"Shush!" Remus heard someone coming down the stairs, and knew immediately that it was Sirius, James, and Peter. "Look what you've done now," he chided. Bufo blinked.

"Is that the sound of a toad I hear?" came Sirius' voice, which was far too loud and grated on Remus' ears. "A particularly ugly toad who goes by the name of Bufo?"

Bufo croaked, and Remus had the sudden urge to step on him (Bufo, not Sirius).

"'Tis indeed!" Sirius cried happily. "What a pleasant surprise! James said that you woke up rather early today to study... blimey, mate, you look awful."

Remus had the sudden urge to step on him (Sirius, not Bufo).

"I'm fine. Couldn't sleep," Remus said in a croaky voice that sort of reminded him of Bufo.

"You never sleep very well, do you?" asked James. "Getting a full night's sleep is a lot of fun; you should try it sometime."

Remus rolled his eyes, which made his head start pounding again. "Sure. I'll do that. As soon as Peter stops snoring and Sirius stops talking in his sleep. Are you lot going to breakfast?"

James grinned widely. "Yep. After that, we're going to borrow a broom from Hooch and fly around the grounds for a bit. Wanna come? Peter's tagging along, too, but he can't fly very well yet."

"No, thank you," said Remus. Any other day it might have been fun to watch James and Sirius' antics, but he couldn't imagine going out today. "Go on without me; I'm tired today." Remus didn't want to tell them about his "ill mother" yet—he was hoping to build up a bit of mystery first. That way it would make it more realistic (since it was a sensitive subject) and also provide more closure to something they'd been wondering about. Hopefully, after he told them, they'd consider the big mystery solved and then leave him alone.

Yes, that was sound logic. Or maybe Remus was just making excuses to stop talking to them.

"If you say so, mate," said Sirius. "We'll tell you all about it."

"Bye, Remus!" said Peter, who looked glad to have James and Sirius all to himself. "Have fun!"

"I will," called Remus, but the three were already traipsing off to breakfast.

"He'd probably just slow us down anyway," said Sirius' voice, still loud in Remus' sensitive ears.

"Maybe, but he's usually pretty fun," came James'.

"He really did look ill," said Peter. "Just how he looked in Potions class."

Remus listened to their fading voices switch to the topic of Quidditch. They were nearly to the Great Hall when the voices finally faded out of existence.

Remus gathered up Bufo and his bag before heading back up to the common room. "What do you think, Bufo?" he mused. "Do you s'pose I can get some sleep in before tonight?"

Bufo croaked.

"Yeah, me neither," said Remus, forcing his aching legs to take him up the stairs and into his dorm, which was blessedly empty of loud voices and prying eyes.