Severus refused "Lu" Malfoy's invitation. Who the hell did he think he was speaking to fellow students, first-years or not, as though he were royalty? Severus didn't even bother asking further about this supposed influential and powerful connection the boy-man claimed to have. (What are seventh years anyways? Just overgrown children if they played games like Malfoy.) Whatever. Severus figured the idiot would soon forget about him and seek out some less intelligent people to enlist as his friends. Servants, more like.
Stifling a yawn before it took form, Severus stalked off to bed. The Slytherin dormitories were a bit chilly because they were located beneath the lake, and they smelled a bit moldy, but he supposed they had a sort-of elegant beauty. The common room had windows out to the murky waters through which you could sometimes glimpse the giant squid gliding past and, on occasion, something more sinister. In the dormitories, however, there were much smaller windows, each lit by a mysterious green glow. The boy in the bed closest to his was trying to peer out into the dark abyss beyond, but after a few futile minutes past he abandoned his perch on the nightstand (the windows were set too high to see out without climbing something) and went to wash up.
Too tired to bother getting up Severus decided he'd brush his teeth in the morning. He forced his mind to forget about "Lu" Malfoy and the ridiculous events that occurred earlier that day, concluding that Malfoy would forget about him and pursue other students to coerce into running his errands. Unfortunately, as Snape would soon discover during the next few weeks, Lucius hadn't any such intentions.
By Halloween Remus had already identified his favorite classes. Potions was rather complicated, demanding both creativity and rigid exactness in a pseudo-paradox of sorts. Remus enjoyed all his classes with Professor Slughorn but had yet to master the art of brewing perfect potions. It was by far one of his most difficult subjects.
Care of Magical Creatures was either very easy or extremely hard. The challenges of the class varied week to week depending upon what creatures they were studying. Herbology was very much the same in that respect.
Charms was very pleasant, and although Professor Circe (lovely woman) was currently placing much emphasis on the basics Remus could tell that eventually their work would become an art rather than an exact science. From what he had read about the subject at the library it was like magical poetry, a study based upon limitless creativity bound together by only certain parameters.
Defense Against the Dark Arts, on the other hand, was by far Remus's favorite and strongest class. Often relying on instinct more than reason, an odd change of pace for Remus, he found all of the spells and counter-curses came effortlessly. It was like Charms only far more intense and complex. Defense Against the Dark arts had a more precise purpose and was mysteriously limited by greater constraints.
Remus had also gotten to know Sirius Black and James Potter a bit better. They were quite an unusual pair, however, and Remus doubted he could ever claim to "know" either of them perfectly. Since their first evening at Hogwarts he'd figured out that they both enjoyed pretending to be interested in girls (which they weren't, really, being a couple months shy of twelve years old), they both enjoyed throwing food at meals, especially anything which made a satisfying squelching noise on impact, and that they both had an absolute obsession with Quidditch. The former sort of creeped Remus out for a while. Although he had many female friends he could never comprehend pretending to be any older or pretending to feel any different than he actually did.
Sirius liked referring to Remus as "the sensitive one", but Remus knew himself better than that. Sensitive, possibly, but he hoped he concealed his emotions a bit better than most. Remus preferred to avoid conflict and would therefore always refrain from expressing himself in a way that would cause any. He had kept to himself the first week and was sure that most of the other first years thought his reserved personality was out of intellectual snobbery. He never went anywhere without a book. Whenever he wanted to hide from the world Remus could merely reach for his book bag, withdraw from it his favorite volume, and lose himself in it.
And yet despite his fondness for crisp pages and the scent of leather bindings, Sirius had apparently grown fond of him. Neither of the two ever bothered to study for more than twenty minutes. Before ten minutes could pass they'd be making odd noises, and then by the twentieth minute the two mischievous imps would have thrown all of their study materials to opposite sides of the room and pelted Peter Pettigrew with all the available wads of crumpled parchment available. Remus couldn't help wondering if the three of them, three rather than two because Peter had adopted many of their bohemian behaviorisms by the fourth day, had been shipped off to Hogwarts to be studied in Care of Magical Creatures and mistakenly registered as members of the student body.
Whatever the case, Remus found himself having more fun than he'd ever had in his entire life. At first he'd feared they'd manage to convince him to diminish his intense study habits. Happily, after a couple bouts of mayhem left no stain on Remus's marks he realized that a bit of insanity was just what his life needed. Besides, chasing after them was good exercise. In fact, he'd been having so much fun he had almost forgotten that he was scheduled to "fall ill" on the night of the Halloween feast. McGonagall's kindly yet sad reminder after Transfiguration threw Remus back into a cruel reality.
"I will be waiting for you in the hospital wing this evening, Remus." she explained delicately, a pitying look in her eyes. "I think it is best if we start out from there. In this way we will avoid awkward questions from your fellow students."
Remus couldn't think of what to tell the others. His mind was unfocused and fearful during all his classes. Defense Against the Dark Arts, generally his favorite subject, went terribly. The subject of the day was werewolves. One classmate even volunteered a greusome tale of his third cousin's sanguine death at the claws and teeth of one particularly viscious creature by the name of Fenir Greyback. This story remained on his mind for the rest of the day. Remus was so distracted he even managed to light his sleeve on fire during Potions.
Worst of all, after spending all day straining to conjure a plausible excuse to tell the boys Remus had still come up with nothing. His nervousness must have shown, because James repeatedly asked him if he were feeling well. Having come upon no logical explanation for his absence at the evening feast Remus found himself leaving the castle, a chilly October breeze grazing his face, having told them nothing. He prayed they would understand. But what would he tell them when he returned? An involuntary shiver shook him as he watched the sun sink beneath the darkening mountains.
McGonagall must have sensed his horrible thoughts. She said nothing, not having anything to say, but she put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. As they walked towards the Whomping Willow, it's angry branches thrashing in the wind, Remus resigned himself to a very difficult night, thoughts of his ignorant friends providing little comfort. He swore they would never find out.
Author's Note:
Wow. Hello again after a very long intermission. I feel so odd having returned to this story, having not touched it in months, but I'm very happy to have done so. Some special thanks is owed to Pessimistic Drip, an astounding poet who's unexpected review convinced me to try my hand at writing again. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I haven't written much of anything since I graduated this past Spring, so I beg you to all to be patient with my rusty pen that even when well-exercised doesn't always write as well as it should. I sometimes feel like I have a quill like Rita's, only it doesn't write what I want or anywhere near as good as I'd like, but (for better or for worse) it writes nonetheless. Ha.
Thank you for reading and I hope to update again soon! And thanks again to Pessimistic Drip. I'm very grateful you dragged me out of hiding again. ;)