Chapter 21: House Points, Schmouse Points

Remus did not eat breakfast on Tuesday morning; he spent the time in the library drafting a letter to his parents instead.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Lots happened last week; I don't know if I'll even be able to remember it all. First off, I learned a bunch of spells. I am pleased to inform you that I have finally mastered the elusive Aguamenti, as well as Reparo and Wingardium Leviosa. Two of my friends, Sirius and James, can do the Ink-Reversing spell, and James can Vanish things really easily. I don't know how they do it.

I have two more friends besides them. One is named Peter, and I helped him learn Reparo the other day while James and Sirius were at the Slug Club. (Professor Slughorn invites everybody who has something special about them—a talent or such—to join. He invited me, but I didn't like his reasons...

Remus tapped his quill against his chin thoughtfully. He sort of wanted to elaborate a bit more—he was just itching to talk about the whole thing—but he knew that his parents didn't like it when he talked of werewolves too much, and he already had to update them on his injuries. He pushed the topic to the back of his head and continued writing about less pressing matters.

...So I had a quiet night in with Peter.) My other friend is a girl named Lily. She's Muggle-born, but she has a friend in Slytherin. I don't like him much.

A few days ago, I was walking around the school to clear my head. I wandered somewhere dark, with a lot of nooks. All of the sudden, a Boggart popped out of nowhere—thank goodness I was mostly alone. I got rid of it pretty quickly (thanks to Dad!) and Professor Questus saw. He invited me in for tea and we had a pleasant chat.

Speaking of pleasant chats, I also had one with Hagrid. He has a big dog named Fang and a pumpkin patch. He's really very nice, and we talked for hours, I think. He also has a Murtlap. It scared me a little, but Hagrid told me that it wasn't going to hurt me (and it didn't).

The library is amazing. I'm there right now, actually—my dormmates are a little loud. I don't think Madam Pince likes me much, but from the looks of it, she's not fond of anybody.

My injuries from last week are healing up quite nicely. I'm not in any pain at all. In fact, I had Flying class today and didn't get hurt—not even a little. James is a fantastic flyer, and he brags about it all the time.

Again: don't worry about me! I like it here loads. Tell Garrison I said hello.

Love you both!

Remus.

Remus folded up the letter and stuck it in his pocket. He walked to Madam Pince's desk and handed her the library book that he was reading. "I'd like to check this out, if you please?" he said, his voice as quiet as possible.

He wasn't sure that Madam Pince had heard him as first; sometimes Remus was awful at judging the extent of human hearing. Just as he was opening his mouth to try again, Pince wrinkled her nose. "You didn't get any ink on my tables, did you?"

"No, Madam. I checked twice."

"Good." Madam Pomfrey glanced at the title. "This book is entirely in Latin, Lupin."

Remus bit back a sarcastic response. "I know."

"Can you read Latin?"

"Not very well. But I'm hoping I'll be able to get the gist so long as it's simple Latin." Remus did not want to brag, but Merlin, was he proud of his Latin skills (small as they were). He was very lucky that his mother had studied it in school and was willing to teach him what she knew, and even more lucky that his father had bought him some books and dictionaries to mull over whilst healing on the couch and stuck at home.

There had been nothing else at home to do, really. Remus' pride sort of dissolved as he realized what a sad existence he'd led. He hadn't even realized how absolutely pitiful it was to study declensions and conjugations in his room all day while James and Sirius and Peter had probably been... Remus wasn't even sure what normal children even did all the time. Had they played outside? Made friends? Gone to school? Whatever it was, it had probably been much more healthy and productive than Remus' years spent completely alone.

Madam Pince did not look as if she believed him. "Fine. Due in two weeks."

"Thank you, Madam."

Remus left, very glad that Madam Pince hadn't also mentioned that the book in question was about werewolves. He knew that it would probably give him nightmares, but he was curious... and it wasn't as if his parents were around to worry about him when he thought too much about the Dark and dangerous. And it was in a different language, which was essential: otherwise, someone might see Remus reading a book about werewolves and connect the dots.

Now if only he could actually read the Latin.

He returned to the dormitory, announcing his return by tapping Moonlight Sonata on the closed door.

"Remus!" he heard Sirius say. "Woah, this knocking thing works like a charm." Remus internally rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted that anyone was going to try to impersonate him.

He entered the dormitory and placed the book on his bed (under the covers, just in case Sirius or James could read Latin... which wouldn't surprise him one bit, actually). "What are you doing?"

"Coming up with that prank for Snivelly!" said James. "Wanna help?"

"Not particularly."

"He almost poisoned you, Rem."

Remus flinched at the strange nickname. He wasn't sure whether it was meant to be a term of endearment or if James was just too lazy to say the extra syllable. Either was plausible, actually, and the latter was more so. "He didn't mean to," Remus protested, and James crossed his arms.

"You're right. He meant to force you to stop speaking in a very uncomfortable way that would have landed you in the Hospital Wing."

"...How do you know that?"

James looked sheepish. "We... er... tested the spell on Peter."

"What?! Is he in the Hospital Wing right now?"

"Yeah. Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like some sort of Permanent Sticking Charm. Looked right painful."

Remus was horrified. "It'd better not be permanent!"

"Wouldn't mind if it was," mumbled Sirius. "Pettigrew can be right annoying."

"That's not very nice. I like to talk to him, and if it's permanent then I'm going to feed both of you to the Giant Squid."

"Ooh, there's an idea," said James gleefully. "Write that down, Sirius."

"That's not a prank!" Remus thought of poor Peter, who trusted James and Sirius so much... almost worshiped them, in fact. "Tell me he consented, at least."

"Define consent."

"James!"

"No, really. Define it. I have no idea what it means."

Remus groaned and rubbed at his temples. "Did he agree to it?"

"Oh. Yes. He volunteered, actually."

"Oh, so all of you are idiots," said Remus, rolling his eyes. "That's so much better. To answer your earlier question: no, I am not going to help with whatever prank you're planning. I am going to go see Peter."

"But you're not going to stop us, are you? You're not going to tell a teacher?"

Remus thought of poor Peter, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth—perhaps permanently. But then he thought of Snape, who had come into the Potions storeroom for the sole purpose of bothering him... when Remus had tried his best to be nice, even! He thought of the burning sensation in his every orifice from the wolfsbane and what could have happened if the spell had actually landed...

"Nah," said Remus. "I'm a Marauder, after all. See you later... and make sure to tell me what you've planned."

James and Sirius grinned. "Knew you'd come round."

Remus rolled his eyes again and left; at this rate, his eyes were going to fall clean out of his head before he turned twelve.

"Mr. Lupin!" said Madam Pomfrey when Remus entered the Hospital Wing. And then, in a whisper: "You're feeling all right? Do you need me to check that leg? Did the wound on your hand stay closed? Professor Slughorn told me you had a bit of a scare with a certain potions ingredient..."

"I'm fine," Remus interrupted. "Peter? Peter Pettigrew?"

"He's in my office, resting. He's fine. Being a bit melodramatic, really. Do you know exactly what happened? I always try not to ask too many questions, but it was a spell I'd never seen before... and he just told me that it was a Levitation Charm gone rather awry."

"Yes, that's what happened, all right," said Remus. "May I see him?"

"Of course. Are you sure you don't want me to check you over while you're here...?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Remus was completely annoyed and exasperated, so he took three deep breaths—in through his nose and out through his mouth—to calm down. It wasn't very kind to be annoyed at Madam Pomfrey; after all, she was only trying to help. "I'm feeling wonderful, actually. Everything's healing very well."

"Good." Madam Pomfrey looked relieved. "Go on, then. He'll be happy to have a visitor."

Remus opened the door to the office to see Peter lying on the same bed that he had spent hours upon hours in a little more than a week earlier. Remus wondered if he had looked that pitiful, lying there, staring at the ceiling. Peter rather reminded him of a dead fish—all floppy and sad-looking.

"How are you doing, Peter?" he asked. "You are awake, right?"

"I'm fine," said Peter. "Just between you and me, I'm only staying in the Hospital Wing longer to make James and Sirius jealous."

"...Jealous?!"

"Yeah! It's pretty glamorous, being ill. I'm all right now, mostly, but my tongue still twinges a bit from pulling on it too hard. Can't believe anyone wanted to do that to you."

Never mind the spell—Remus couldn't believe anyone wanted to spend time in the Hospital Wing. Why on earth would James and Sirius be jealous of Peter, completely helpless and feeling poorly? Actually... Remus did feel a little jealous. Peter had spent so little time in the Hospital Wing that he liked it! He probably didn't even get ill that often.

He had had such an easy life, nothing to worry about at all... he was enjoying his time being looked at by Madam Pomfrey like it was some sort of vacation. Sick and twisted vacation that was, all surrounded by white sheets, potions, and the awful feeling of embarrassment and helplessness. Remus would much rather spend once a month vacationing in the Caribbean than the Hospital Wing. Or France. Remus had lived in France for two months and he'd rather liked it. Or maybe Wales, his childhood home... or a beach somewhere. Remus didn't like the beach much, but anything—anything!—was better than the Hospital Wing.

And Peter was staying in Madam Pomfrey's office—the quarantine room!—for a twinging tongue? What a baby, Remus thought scornfully, and then immediately chastised himself. Peter wasn't a baby. Not everybody got injured every month like he did. Remus' heart ached with envy. He truly couldn't imagine a twinging tongue being the worst of his problems.

"Remus? You okay?" Peter said, pulling Remus out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm glad you're feeling better, Peter. Why did Madam Pomfrey put you in this room?"

"Well, a gaggle of Slytherin girls came in right before I did. They'd all been Transfigured into teapots, so the beds were all full. Apparently, being Transfigured into a teapot is a fairly normal experience, though, and they've already returned to class. But I was already here, so Madam Pomfrey didn't make me move..."

"I'm making you move now!" shouted Madam Pomfrey. "Peter Pettigrew, you are fine. Go back to your dormitory."

Remus imagined transforming into a teapot. He shuddered. That had to be a ridiculously painful experience. He thought it hurt to grow fur and rearrange his skeleton, but his skin turning into ceramic, bit by bit, his bones and internal organs completely disappearing instead of changing, his thoughts ceasing to exist rather than turning to murder and blood... all things considered, though, he would rather be a teapot. A werepot. Remus snickered.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Peter. "Come on, help me up. I'm still shaky."

"Absolutely not!" said Madam Pomfrey. "You are going to go back to your dormitory alone, and I am going to have a chat with Mr. Lupin."

"About what?" asked Peter, clearly stalling.

"I want to know exactly what that spell was, and you weren't much help when I asked you. Now shoo."

Peter got up out of bed reluctantly and shuffled down the corridor. When he had gone, Madam Pomfrey turned to Remus. "I already told you; it was a Levitation Charm gone awry..." he told her.

"I was fibbing," she said with a hint of a smile. "I don't really want to know. If I asked every injured Hogwarts student what happened to land them with me, then no one would ever come to the Hospital Wing. Now lie down on that bed so that I can check your leg."

"Madam Pomfrey...!"

"If you think that you can waltz in here with a cursed injury and get away scot-free, then you are sorely mistaken. Now lie down. I'm not going to keep you overnight; I just want to see how it's healing up for myself."

"No! It doesn't hurt." He wasn't even lying; Remus' leg hardly hurt at all. He crossed his arms at the injustice of it all, even though he knew that he was being ungrateful. "And I think I should know, of all people—this isn't my first time with an injury like that."

"If you're trying to earn sympathy, it won't work," said Madam Pomfrey, though her eyes were telling a different story. "Lie down, or else I'll keep you overnight just for the fun of it."

Remus lied down.

After ten minutes of closely inspecting his leg and his hands, Madam Pomfrey was finally satisfied. "I loathe to admit it, but you were right, Mr. Lupin. It is healing up very well. In fact, it should be nearly completely healed by the time the next full moon rolls around. October fourth, correct?"

"Yeah," mumbled Remus. "Three weeks, about."

"Wonderful. Now, don't be afraid to come back if anything goes wrong."

"Of course," said Remus. "May I go now?"

"Very well. And keep an eye on your friend Peter... he seems accident-prone."

"You have no idea," said Remus, dashing out of the horrid room as fast as he possibly could.

He poked his head back in the doorway of the Hospital Wing, feeling very ashamed that he had forgotten. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," he said dully.

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "I'm just doing my job. Run along, now."

Remus arrived back at the dormitory and threw open the door. "Okay, what did I miss?"

"Ah, ah, ah," Sirius chastised. "You forgot to do the knock."

Remus groaned and left the dormitory, closing the door behind him and then doing his Moonlight Sonata knock as quickly as possible.

"Remus!" James said happily, as if he hadn't already known who it was. "Come on in."

Remus reentered the dormitory. He wondered how many times a day he was going to have to knock. His knuckles were bound to be sore after a few hundred times of doing that. "So. What did I miss?"

"Well, we've come up with a plan for Snivellus. It involves sneaking into the Slytherin dormitories."

"Did you tell Madam Pomfrey what happened to my tongue?" asked Peter anxiously.

"Peter: I was very vague, and she said it didn't really matter after all. She just wanted to make sure it wasn't bound to happen again. Sirius and James: WHAT?!"

"We have the Cloak. It won't be much danger at all."

"Yeah? What about the custodian man who almost caught us the last time?"

"That's Filch," said Sirius proudly. "Andromeda told me about him. She's my older cousin."

Remus shook his head in disbelief. That hadn't answered his question at all. "What about the Prefects patrolling the corridors?"

"Oh, pish-posh. Puttle won't catch us," said James.

"How will we get in? They probably have a password."

"We'll improvise! Try to sneak in the doorway when a student enters and all that, perhaps."

"What if we get caught?"

"Detention's not all that bad, Remus!" said Peter helpfully. "Plus, you have to get seven."

"And what do you plan to do when you get in?" asked Remus, sensing that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Well," said James, "ever heard of Dungbombs?"

"It's childish, yes, but classic," said Sirius, "and James brought at least six from home."

Remus had wondered why James' bag always smelt slightly of fake dung, but he had assumed that James just didn't do laundry very often. "That's a little... mean."

"Well, what were you expecting? Filling his robes with flowers and nice cards? This is revenge, Remus, not a surprise party."

"Right. Revenge," said Remus, considering. He wasn't sure about the whole thing, actually.

But then, all of a sudden, he was. He wasn't going to get many opportunities like this; Professor Questus had said so. And if this is what Remus had to do to keep his friends, than so be it.

"What day are we doing this?" he asked, summoning all his Gryffindor courage.

"No time like the present!" said James. "Tonight. As soon as curfew starts. I'm sure all four of us will fit under the Cloak if we don't mind having our personal space invaded a little."

"We're all friends here," said Peter joyfully. "Right, Remus?"

"Of course," affirmed Remus, although he did not like the idea of being so close to somebody. He wasn't used to being near anyone but his mother, his father, and the Healers at St. Mungo's. "You're sure we can't plan it out a little more? I'm not keen on getting a detention before October even starts. And what if we lose House points?"

"House points, schmouse points," said Sirius nonchalantly. "All they get you is a shiny trophy at the end of the year. And it's not even as if we get to take it home; it stays at the school all year. It's only good for looking at."

"But the other Gryffindors will be angry with us," said Remus. "Maybe they want to win."

"We're Marauders!" said James. "Marauders don't care what other people think!"

Remus very much cared what other people thought. "I'm a Marauder, and I care what other people think," he said.

"Logic, schmogic," said Sirius. "We're doing this, Remus. We're doing it for you, too. You should really be more grateful."

Remus felt a small twinge of guilt, even though he knew that Sirius was only joking. He really should be more grateful; after all, he was putting these people in danger by affiliating them with a werewolf—a monster—a Dark creature hated by society. He owed them a little fun, at least. Didn't he? "Fine. Tonight. But I'm going to try to get some sleep first. Who knows, we might be stuck in the Slytherin dormitory all night, and I'm not sleeping there."

Sirius cheered. "I knew you'd come round, Remus! Come on, James, let's scope out the corridor. We'll be back."

"Can I come?" asked Peter, bouncing on the end of his chair. "I'll be ever so quiet."

"No. This is for the more advanced pranksters," said James.

"Oh, let him come," Remus begged as he watched Peter's face fall. "He only wants to help, and I'm sure he'll be good at it."

"You're too soft, Remus," said Sirius. "It'll be easier with two."

"You're not going under the Cloak, are you?"

"Yeah, we are."

"Curfew hasn't started yet. You don't need to, as long as you're inconspicuous about your... scoping."

James looked at Sirius, his eyes wide. "Hey... he's right."

"And since you're not going under the Cloak, there's no reason not to bring Peter."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "He's right," he echoed dully. "Come on, Peter."

Peter positively lit up and bounded after them, and the door shut with a definitive slam.

Remus sighed and walked to the lavatory. He did not like Snape; not one bit. That said, he didn't think that the boy deserved to wake up to a Dungbomb. Remus put a little toothpaste on his toothbrush and brushed his teeth while he mulled over the situation. James and Sirius seemed to have a bit of a vendetta against Snape, but Remus didn't know why. From what Lily had said, they were the ones who initiated the fighting in the first place. Lily was a little biased towards Snape—Remus guessed that they had known each other for quite some time—but she also seemed very determined to do the right thing, no matter the cost. Remus didn't peg her as a liar.

If James and Sirius really had been insulting Snape on the day that Remus had been absent from class... then Remus could see why Snape had retaliated. He could even see why Snape had turned on him—after all, James and Sirius were much more talented than he was. Remus was an easy target; as was Peter. Remus knew from personal experience that helplessness was an awful feeling—of course Snape would turn on Remus and Peter, just to feel like he was in control of his surroundings. Remus would do the same thing if it made him feel any better, he thought... although nothing, not even using an unknown spell on a helpless classmate, would make the full moons any more bearable.

Remus spat in the sink and noticed that the saliva was tinged with red. He had torn the scab on his lower lip and another one on his tongue. He remembered what Dumbledore had said about gritting his teeth because of the fangs; he resolved once again to heed the advice when October fourth rolled around. He wasn't exactly sure how, though. After all, he knew for a fact that he wouldn't have much presence of mind during the transformation. Remus spat twice more in the sink to rid his mouth of the blood and then dried his face with a towel.

He really had hoped that the prank on Snape would be a little more subtle... maybe to the point that Snape would be inconvenienced in a minor way... but wouldn't realize that he had been pranked? It was like Sirius and James were trying to get caught. If a Dungbomb ended up in Snape's dormitory, then he would know at once that someone had placed it there. He'd tell the staff, and of course they would investigate it. Worse, perhaps Snape would automatically assume it was them—the Marauders—and then retaliate... and then James and Sirius would play another prank... and then things would escalate out of control.

Remus padded to his bed and burrowed under the covers. The window seemed to be sneering at him, even behind the closed curtains. Remus stuffed his head under his pillow to protect himself if anything large and hairy broke in.

He tried to go to sleep, but he could not rid his head of thoughts of Snape, and the Marauders, and pranks, and losing points for Gryffindor... Eventually, he forced himself to think of Walt Whitman—Dumbledore's favorite poet—and drifted off to sleep with his head full of images of steady keels and the world beneath the brine.