Chapter 25: Remus is a Rock

It was Saturday: the morning of Peter's party. Remus woke up to James and Sirius shaking his shoulder, whispering into his ear. "Remus. Reeeeeemus. Lupin. Remus Lupin. Remus John Lupin. Reeeemussss Johnnnn Loooooopin. Loopiny. Loopy. Hey, Loopy! We can call you Loopy!"

Remus jerked awake in a panic, but fortunately, he came to his senses before the scenario turned into a nightmare. He rubbed his shoulder and glared at his friends. "Nothing like starting off your Saturday with another insulting nickname."

"Loopy, we need your help. We're setting up the dormitory for Peter's birthday and we need your help with the decorations and the presents. Actually, we need you to do it all."

Remus sat up and noticed that his sleeve had rolled up slightly in his sleep. He pulled it down as quickly as possible, but Sirius caught his eye and Remus knew that he had seen.

"What happened to your arm?" asked Sirius. "You're hurt, aren't you?"

"No," said Remus quickly. "I was fighting the Giant Squid the other day and it wrapped its tentacles around my arm. I'm afraid I shall be scarred for the rest of my days."

"Oh," said James, nodding seriously. "Yes, the same thing happens to me all the time. Nasty things, squids."

Remus was glad that James had not pressed the matter. "So... what's this about me decorating the dormitory all by myself?"

"Well," said Sirius slyly, "James and I are going to decorate the Great Hall with a little good old-fashioned Gryffindor cheer."

Remus sighed heavily and shook his head. "You two..."

"Are brilliant?" cut in James. "Yes, we know. The decorations are in my trunk, and I promise it's not hexed like yours. Just use Wingardium Leviosa and then a Sticking Charm. And don't wake up Pete. I got a present for you to give him, just as you asked. Come on, Sirius!" James threw the Cloak over himself and Sirius and stumbled out of the room before Remus could even tell him that he did not know how to perform a Sticking Charm.

The incantation, he knew, was Haere, but Remus wasn't entirely sure that he could pull it off without extensive tutoring. He opened James' trunk with hesitation and pulled out long red and gold banners and streamers. He groaned. There certainly were a lot of decorations.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he whispered, feeling a burst of confidence as the banner rose into the air. He stretched it out and positioned it as best he could, and then whispered "Haere," as forcefully as possible. He expected it to work, just like McGonagall had said. He expected with all his might. He expected so hard that he thought he was going to pop a blood vessel.

The banner crumpled to the ground.

Remus tried again, with the same results. Every time, he worried that the sound of swishing fabric would wake up Peter, but nothing did. James had been right: Peter slept like the dead.

On his fourth try, the banner stuck to the wall beautifully, and Remus wanted to shout with joy. He was getting better at magic! He could stick something to a wall! Nothing that couldn't be accomplished with a bit of tape, but impressive nonetheless.

With newfound confidence, he stuck each streamer to the ceiling. He even tried to do them all at once, by making the Latin imperative plural (Haerete instead of Haere), which worked for a maximum of three streamers at once. Remus felt extremely proud of himself. He wondered if this was how James felt on a daily basis.

Finally, all the decorations were put up, and the dormitory was a beautiful mess of red and gold streamers and banners. Pleased, Remus sat back on his bed to admire the few. After a couple of minutes passed, and Sirius and James were still absent, Remus began to feel a little more daring. He had heard of the Blackboard-Writing Charm, and knew that it was a little more complicated than most spells—after all, it was strictly nonverbal. He wondered if it would work on a banner.

He willed with all his might, thinking of the theory and the logic behind it, and pressed his wand to the largest banner.

He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped, wished, willed that something would happen...

He opened his eyes. There, in bright white lettering, was "Happy Birthday, Pete!"

Remus, for exactly eight seconds, forgot that he was a werewolf. He was a wizard, first and foremost, and a mighty good one if he could cast that charm. He was magical. He was clever. He had friends.

Then the eight seconds passed and Remus once again remembered that he was a Dark creature. But the elation remained, and Remus sat down on his bed and wondered if he was going to cry of joy. That would be unfortunate; tears were often messy and he did not want his face to be all splotchy for Peter's party.

Instead, he drafted a letter to his parents. He so wanted to tell them what had happened. It was so odd, not being able to run to them with every tiny exciting thing that occurred—after all, Remus had spent time with no one else for six and a half years. Everything interesting that had ever happened at his house had always been immediately relayed to both his parents: the turtle that he'd found in the yard, the spider in his room, the spell he'd accomplished with his father, the meal he'd cooked with his mother, the time that he'd almost beat his mum in chess... Everything had been shared in the Lupin household, and now Remus could share nothing with his parents face-to-face. A letter wasn't the same (he so desperately wanted to boast to his father in real time), but it would have to do.

Dear Mum and Dad:

I am pleased to inform you that I forgot about my affliction today for a solid eight seconds. Hogwarts is absolutely brilliant and I never want to go home. I wonder if I can just stay here like Hagrid. You all can come live with me. We shall purchase a tiny cottage by the edge of the Black Lake and live there for the rest of our lives. We can make friends with the Giant Squid and have tea on Sundays.

Seriously, though, I'm having a great time (although I miss you both!). Peter's birthday was last week, and we're throwing him a party. I managed to perform several successful Sticking Charms (you'll be pleased to know, Mum: I managed to stick multiple things to the wall at once by making the Latin imperative plural. Your teaching has paid off beautifully). Not only that, but I cast a Blackboard-Writing Charm on one of the banners. I love magic!

Peter is sleeping right now, and James and Sirius are doing something to the Great Hall before everyone else wakes up. They woke me up at four-thirty this morning to help them; fortunately, they didn't need my help with the Great Hall. I have not gotten a detention yet, although I did lose two points for Gryffindor. Fortunately, the eighteen point seven-three that I have earned well makes up for that.

Bufo is doing well, though I think he's a bit lonely. My classes are going well, too, and no one even suspects about my condition. The teachers are warming up to me more than ever, even the ones whom I think were afraid of me before.

Stop worrying. I'm doing fine, and even Madam Pomfrey admits that I'm healing up nicely. That's a big deal, too—she kept me in the Hospital Wing for a whole extra day because I had a scratch on my leg. I should be nearly all healed up by October fourth.

I hear James and Sirius coming back, so I should probably go now. I really am doing well. Say hello to Garrison for me.

Love you both!
Remus.

Remus folded up the letter and stuck it in his trunk, being careful not to trigger the hexes. He grabbed a book out of his trunk and leaned back onto his pillow, pretending as if he had been reading all along. He was very excited for Sirius and James to see his handiwork, and he noticed that his hands were slightly shaking as he flipped the pages—but not like he was about to transform. He was just so incredibly happy and excited that he felt as if he could cast one of those fabled Patronuses.

He had friends. He had family. He was good at magic. The teachers treated him well. He wasn't in pain. The full moon wasn't for another couple of weeks. Remus was on top of the world.

James Knocked on the door (using his weird pattern that Remus could never place), as did Sirius simultaneously (with his SOS pattern). Remus rolled his eyes.

"Sirius, James. Come in!" The dormitory door opened, and Sirius and James entered. Remus could smell them and hear them, but he couldn't see them—they must still have been under the Cloak.

James pulled off the Cloak and observed the decorations; Remus watched as his mouth fell open in pleased shock. "Blimey, Remus. This is amazing!"

Remus shrugged. "Thank you."

"And here I was thinking that we were going to find you panicking and apologizing because you couldn't manage the Sticking Charm," said Sirius. "Darn it, Remus, you've lost me five Galleons."

"What?"

"We bet on it," said James gleefully. "And I won! Sirius didn't think you could do it, but I knew you could! Pay up, Black."

Sirius scowled and reached into his pocket, dropping some gold into James' palm. "Don't call me that."

"Sorry, mate, forgot."

Remus wasn't sure how to feel about all of that.

"Woah! Is that a Blackboard-Writing Charm? I didn't know that could be used on fabric—that's incredible!"

Remus beamed, feeling a bit like Peter. "I know."

"It's already six-thirty," said Sirius. "Shall we wake up Peter?"

"It's his birthday. Let him sleep."

"Do you really think that he wants to miss a second of the best day of his life?" asked James, and pulled back Peter's curtains with a mighty cry. "Happy birthday to youuuuu!"

Peter woke up with a slight snort, rubbed his eyes, and immediately started to smile. Remus couldn't help smiling along with him. "Wow! This is brilliant," breathed Peter. He jumped out of bed and pulled on his socks, staring at the decorations all the while. "I'm not even angry that you woke me up before seven."

"I told you so, Remus."

"You didn't bet on that, too, did you?" cracked Remus.

Peter reached up and touched one of the red streamers. "How did you get them up so high?"

"Magic."

"Oh. Right."

"And we have presents!" said James. "All three of us got you one!" He pulled a bag out of his trunk and dumped it on the floor. Seven presents came tumbling out. Peter's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"That's more than three, James..."

"I know. But they were cheap, so I got more than one. The green one's from Remus, and the one wrapped in parchment's from Sirius. Mine are all red."

"Ew, Remus, why'd you pick green?" said Sirius, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"What's wrong with green?"

"Slytherin colors! You'd better wear the red jumper today and not the green one."

"I like that jumper! It's not even Slytherin green; it's light green..." In truth, Remus had used green paper because he had some left over from his last birthday. He always saved the wrappings; one had to when one came from a family that didn't have enough money to spend on luxuries like wrapping paper. And green really was his favorite color.

"Oh, shut up, you two," said James. "Peter, we made you a card. We all signed it. Where'd you put it, Loopy?"

Remus pulled the folded-up piece of parchment out of his pocket. James had achieved a Color-Changing Charm: the parchment was glowing brilliant shades of red and gold. Sirius had written Happy Birthday, Peter on the front in his very best handwriting (which, after being tutored in handwriting as a Pureblood heir, was very good), and then they had all signed it and written kind messages... among other things.

Haha, Pettigrew, I've been eleven for nearly a year. If you ever need advice, come to me, seeing as I'm the oldest and wisest.

Shut up, Sirius, you're actually the least wise out of all of us.

Happy birthday, Peter! It's hard to believe that I only met you a few weeks ago, it seems like we've been friends for months. (You're Bufo's favorite, I think!)

What? Of course he's not Bufo's favorite, Remus, I'm Bufo's favorite!

I think that Remus is Bufo's favorite, actually.

Well, Bufo likes Peter best after me.

What, can you talk to frogs or something? Happy eleventh, Peter. It's always fun to go flying with you.

Only because he feeds your ego.

Sirius, I swear I will cast the Ink-Reversing Charm on this birthday card and watch it splatter all over your face. And then laugh.

Anyway, happy birthday. Hope today turns out as well as we've planned! You're the best! Remus Lupin,
James Potter,
and Sirius.

Peter read the card with obvious joy. "Wow, this is... amazing. Thank you! Wow."

James' excitement nearly matched Peter's. "Yeah, it's excellent, isn't it? Now open your presents! That one first!"

Peter gushed over his gifts until breakfast. James had given him a fancy quill, a Gryffindor jumper, five Dungbombs, a Filibuster's firework, and itching powder. Remus had given him a book on Boggarts and a picture of the cupboard that Garrison was kept in from home. Sirius had given Peter a rock.

"A... rock?" asked Remus.

"Yeah. I found it on the grounds. It's really colorful, isn't it?"

James gave Sirius a look. "I understand that you can't send for presents, but I know you have money. And it wouldn't even matter if you didn't. Sirius, mate, you could have just asked me to buy something for you to give to Peter—that's what Remus did."

"I didn't want to impose. Plus, it's a nice rock."

"It is a nice rock," Peter said helpfully. "It's all grey and sparkly. I think I'll keep it right by my bed."

"Sirius. You can't give Peter a rock for his birthday. I'm telling you, I would have bought something for you..."

"No!" Sirius' voice was explosive, almost panicked. Remus recognized the tone, it was one that he had used many times. "Look, James... I was stressed. I wanted to... I was just busy. I forgot."

"Busy with what?" asked James, and Remus shot him a glance. He knew that tone, and pushing it was not a good idea.

"My mum!" There was a moment of silence. Remus did not know what to do. "Look, Potter, I was put in Gryffindor. My whole family's in Slytherin, I told you. I've been trying to calm her down all week, trying to ignore the letters she's sending me, trying to ignore the fact that everyone's staring at me, the Black in Gryffindor..." Remus, too, knew how it was to be in the House of bravery and to be affiliated with the Dark, but no one would ever know that if Remus had anything to say about it. "I was just occupied. I forgot. I'm sorry. But at least I got you a rock, right? You said you liked it, Peter? I can give you money, too... I have a few more Galleons in my trunk." Sirius' tone was almost pleading.

"No, I love it!" said Peter, clearly uncomfortable. "It's a very nice rock. I think I'll name it Remus."

Remus blinked. "Erm."

"Sweet revenge!" said James, trying to lighten the mood. "Remus the Rock!"

"You know," said Remus, "the name 'Peter' literally means 'rock'. Comes from the Greek 'Petros'. You should name your rock Peter."

"I can't name a rock after myself. What's the origin of Remus, then?"

Remus froze. He wished that he hadn't brought it up. "Er, Greek mythology. His brother Romulus founded Rome."

"I've heard that story," said Sirius. "Doesn't he die at the end? Pretty sure Romulus kills him."

Remus nodded slowly.

"And he was raised by a she-wolf... Hey, come to think of it, your surname has to do with wolves too. It's one letter off from 'lupine'."

Remus laughed nervously. "I suppose it is. Erm... my dad's name is Lyall, which is Welsh for 'wolf', and my mum's maiden name is Howell... They thought it would be funny." It had actually been a Name Seer. Remus' parents wanted to get an idea as to what his fate what going to be, so they went to a Divination professional... His mum and dad had thought, they told him, that he was going to be a werewolf hunter, or have a pet wolf, or save the world from a wolf-like monster of sorts. His dad had a wolfy name, and nothing bad had happened to him. Remus' whole family, in fact—right down to his great-great grandfather—had been given wolf-related names. It was a Lupin family staple, so no one had ever so much as suspected. It had been false hope, they now acknowledged; something that they knew was coming but didn't want to believe. And when Remus had been bitten, they blamed themselves for years. Remus' father still looked guilty whenever Remus' affliction was mentioned.

"My family is all named after stars," said Sirius. "Regulus. Sirius. Andromeda. Orion. Stars are stupid."

"My dad just wanted me to have a normal name," said James. "His is 'Fleamont'. He detested his mother and father for that for years. And 'James' is pretty common."

"My parents went to a Name Seer," said Peter. "I dunno why they wanted me to be named 'Peter.' That's a little odd. Usually the names they choose are a lot less common."

"Maybe you'll grow up to be a rock," said Remus seriously.

"Like Remus!"

"Please don't name your rock Remus."

"Too late. Remus shall sleep on the floor next to my bed."

Remus groaned.

Remus wasn't sure what to expect as he walked into the Great Hall, but it was more fantastic than anything he could have imagined. Giant red and gold banners hung from the cloudy blue ceiling, adorned with roaring lions. "Happy Birthday, Peter" was written in gold on a large banner outstretched over the staff table. Remus felt a tiny bit less special when he saw that James and Sirius had somehow managed to write on a banner, too, but it wasn't enough to dampen his mood. "What... how did you...?"

Peter bit his thumb forcefully in joy. "Merlin's beard. This is incredible. James, Sirius, Remus, you're amazing! How did you! Oh my goodness! I think I'm going to cry."

"Calm down, mate," James said lazily. "We found Dumbledore sitting in the Great Hall. Fortunately, we managed to hide the Cloak before he saw it and could confiscate it. We lost five points for Gryffindor for being out before curfew ended, but he offered to help us out. Good man, Dumbledore."

Remus couldn't agree more. Dumbledore let a werewolf into the school, he had seen Remus at his worst and did not pity him, and now he'd helped make a shy first-year's birthday memorable. Was there anything that Albus Dumbledore could not do?

Remus glanced at the staff table, where Dumbledore's eyes were at max twinkle. He was staring at Peter, who looked ecstatic. Remus leaned over to James and whispered, "Can you sing?"

"Absolutely not. But I can try. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUUUU..."

James had been correct: he could not sing at all. But it wasn't so bad after the rest of the school joined in, and it got even better when Dumbledore added full orchestral accompaniment with a wave of his wand. When James shot confetti into the air, Peter looked fit to burst.

"I love birthdays," he managed to squeak.

"Told you that you would. Now, why don't you get some sausages? There's some lettuce over there, Remus the Rabbit..."

The rest of the day was spent playing Quidditch outside. Remus brought a book and sat under a tree with Peter, who clapped enthusiastically whenever James or Sirius did anything remotely impressive. It was beyond nice, to sit in the shade, bundled up in a warm red jumper, reading, surrounded by his friends. Remus did not know how he was ever going to say goodbye to all this—however, he didn't let himself think on it. For right now, life was good. Questus was probably right: it would be awful later. But right now, bliss was the only emotion that Remus allowed himself to feel.

"We have one more surprise for you," said James, as they were walking inside arm-in-arm. "Remus helped me with this one. Sirius couldn't help at all. Kept making a mess everywhere. So he sat beside Remus and cheered."

"I don't think I can handle any more surprises," said Peter. And Remus, being a werewolf, knew that Peter was probably telling the truth. Peter's heart was fluttering at a speed that Remus' only ever got up to right before a full moon...

"This surprise is the best one yet," said James. "Remus, Sirius, and I have discovered the Kitchens."

Remus had known where the Kitchens were for quite some time; his sense of smell told him exactly where. He had led James and Sirius to the area, saying that he had seen a house elf enter and disappear earlier... After much trial and error, Sirius had tickled the pear painting on the wall and they had been admitted entrance. Remus didn't exactly know why he'd gotten the idea to do that. "The pears looked sad and I wanted to cheer them up," Sirius had said, which didn't make any sense. Nevertheless, they'd worked all evening on this particular surprise while Peter was resting in the dormitory.

After fetching the Cloak from the dorm, the Marauders entered the Kitchens. James led them to the back corner and revealed a large red cake. "Voila."

Peter looked as if he was going to cry. He'd been looking like that all day, though.

"Remus did most of the work," James admitted, "but I cracked the eggs. With minimal accidents."

"Minimal," Remus scoffed, remembering how he'd had to clean egg yolk off of the ceiling. How did that even happen?

"I got batter on the floor," Sirius said. "And on the table. And on that chair. And on a house-elf. Also on James. How did I do that again?"

Neither Remus nor James could remember.

"Oh, well, it'll probably taste all right as long as Remus knew what he was doing."

"I did," Remus affirmed, and then cut Peter a large slice. "Happy birthday, mate."

He'd never used that word before.

Peter grinned and took a bite. "I have never tasted anything so delicious in my life!"

"Of course you haven't," said James smugly. "I cracked the eggs, you know."

"The most important part," deadpanned Remus.

Forty-five minutes later, the cake was nearly gone, frosting was on Sirius' nose and in James' hair, cake crumbs littered the floor and the table, and Remus didn't have a care in the world.

Well, he did.

But he would worry about that tomorrow.

AN: I had a picnic the other day. Spent what seemed like forever baking a cake (I, like James and Sirius, cannot bake to save my life). Unfortunately, it was very, very hot outside. The cake had melted by the time I arrived to the picnic. Melted! I didn't even know that could happen, but apparently it can.