The fourth week at Hogwarts started out with a bang for the whole school, but mainly for Sirius.
Our huge alarm went off that Monday morning at 7, like always, and we got changed into our robes, and walked out to the Great Hall. Everything was going completely normal, until the post came. A large, black owl came swooping down to the Gryffindor table, and dropped a red envelope in front of Sirius.
Sirius picked it up stared at it blankly for a minute or so, then dropped the envelope onto the table.
"Oh, shit," he groaned. "It's a Howler… what have I done…?"
"What could you be getting a Howler about?" James asked.
"No idea…" Sirius said.
"Just do it mate, get it over and done with…" said James, biting his lip.
Sirius took in a deep breath, and ripped the envelope open. It flew into the air, and immediately started yelling, in a woman's voice:
"SIRIUS BLACK! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I HAVE RECENTLY SENT A LETTER TO PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE ASKING HIM TO TELL ME WHAT HOUSE YOU WERE IN, AND HE SAYS YOU WERE SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR!?"
Sirius seemed to be sinking below the table. Everyone in the Great Hall had gone silent. Every single head turned to where we were sitting and all eyes were on Sirius's bright red face.
"YOU ARE A MEMBER OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! YOU ARE A BLACK! A PUREBLOOD WIZARD! NOT A MUDBLOOD! GRYFFINDOR IS FULL OF MUDBLOODS AND BLOOD TRAITORS, NOT WITCHES AND WIZARDS FROM THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY IS ABSOLUTELY DISGRACED! YOU ARE AN EMBARRASSMENT TO THE FAMILY NAME! AS SOON AS YOU COME HOME THIS CHRISTMAS AND TAKING YOU STRAIGHT TO THERAPY! YOU'RE LUCKY WE'RE EVEN GOING TO ALLOW YOU TO STAY IN THIS HOUSE!"
The letter shrivelled up and landed on the table. There was silence throughout the entire Great Hall, and Sirius's face looked like a tomato.
"I… I have to go…" he said, breathless, "t-to the bathroom."
He got up quickly and walked away faster than I had seen anyone walk in my whole life.
"Oi! Mind your own business, you bunch of turds!" James yelled out to the staring students. Everyone turned away, and the usual energy of the Great Hall was resumed quickly.
"Should we go talk to him?" Peter asked.
"Remus, you go," James said. "You're the nicest."
"Uh — OK," I said, standing up. I walked out of the Great Hall to the closest bathroom. One of the stalls was closed. "Sirius? You in there?"
"Eh?" came a voice. The stall opened, and a seventh year boy was sitting there, his trousers down, holding a bottle of Firewhiskey. "Nah, the name's Monty. Want some Firewhiskey, eh?"
"Uh, no," I said. "I think I'll just go."
"Nah, nah… stay!" he cried out. "What 'appened to your face, also?"
"Nothing," I said through gritted teeth. I turned around, but he grabbed the hood of my robes.
"Tell me, kiddy," he said, smiling. "Lil firsty!"
"Please, just… let… go," I said, trying to pull away from him but getting choked from my robes.
"Tell me your name, at least," he grinned. "Mine's Monty."
"You already said that," I said. Then I kicked his shin and rushed out of the bathroom. Luckily, he didn't follow me, so I continued my search for Sirius.
I found him about fifteen minutes later, in the dormitory sitting next to the table and holding the ziplock bag with our hair in it.
"Sirius?" I said quietly, entering the dormitory. "Are you OK? I'm really sorry about the Howler. And… and your family situation."
"It's OK," he said, wiping a tear from his face. I walked over and sat next to him. "My mother's right. I have broken the family tradition of being in Slytherin… I can see why she's disappointed."
"Yes, but she shouldn't be disappointed over a simple case of which house you're in," I said. "You can't control your personality, OK? You can't change who you are and if your mother can't see how great of a Gryffindor you are, then she's wrong."
He sighed, then laid down, placing his head on my lap. "You're right. I don't know if my family will ever move forward from this, but at least I have such a good friend like you."
"Yeah," I said, smiling.
As the day went on, I couldn't stop thinking about Sirius's head on my lap, how he cried on me and wished desperately for a better family. It felt weird to be overthinking this so much, it was so new to me to have friends, I'd never experienced this feeling for such a good friend like Sirius before.
In the last class of the day, Herbology with Hufflepuff, the class was interrupted by Professor Dumbledore.
"Dumbledore!" Professor Sprout said, smiling widely as the Headmaster swiftly walked into the Greenhouse. "How can I assist you? Do you need some magical plants, or—"
"I would like to speak to Mr Lupin, please," Dumbledore said.
Professor Sprout nodded to him, then I followed Professor Dumbledore outside of the greenhouse and into the cold air outside.
"Remus, I've been told by Professor Slughorn that you attended the Slug Club meeting a few weeks back," Dumbledore said. He didn't look angry, more disappointed. "Even though I told you it was unwise to attend that meeting on the morning after the full moon. There would have been plenty more meetings you could have gone to, yet you made the foolish decision to go to that one."
"I-I'm really sorry, Professor," I said quietly.
"Are you sorry?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just sorry you were caught?"
"No, I do realise that it was very stupid of me, I was very exhausted and restless at the time, and I was severely injured. You were right and I was wrong," I admitted.
"And do you promise not to participate in any activities, especially social activities on the morning after a full moon from now on?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes — I promise," I said, nodding. And I did mean it.
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "If you do something like this again, Gryffindor may lose some points."
"Yes, sir," I said. He nodded to me and I was told to return to class.
"Special, eh?" James teased when I came back to the Greenhouse. I laughed, and shook my head.
"What was he talking to you about, anyway?" Peter asked.
"Oh, not much…" I said. "Didn't want me to go to the Slug Club back in the first week, because I was injured because of the football I played… while visiting my mother."
"You went to the Slug Club meeting?" Sirius said, dropping the pot he was holding.
"Mr Black, clean that up," Professor Sprout grumbled, rolling her eyes.
"Sorry, Professor," Sirius said, crouching down and pushing soil back into his half broken pot. "Remus! I told you not to go to that meeting!"
"But — but afterwards you said to go!" I said.
"I wasn't serious," he said.
"I thought you were," James said, sniggering. "Get it, Sirius, serious?"
James, Peter, and I were all cracking up at this, but Sirius looked dead serious.
"I only said that because I was angry," Sirius said. "I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry."
"And I shouldn't have said what I said," I said. "Or gone to the meeting, you and Dumbledore were both right."
"Of course," said Sirius. He was smiling now. "Because I'm always right!"
"You sure about that?" James snorted.
"Of course," Sirius grinned. "I'm absolutely Sirius."
The four of us laughed our way through the rest of Herbology, making puns about Sirius being serious. Even that night, we were plopping onto our beds still wiping tears of joy from our eyes.