"An animagus- a witch or wizard who is able to transfigure him or herself into an animal at will- must undergo an extremely difficult and dangerous process to achieve this ability. Indeed, there are only five official animagi listed on the Improper Use of Magic registry this century. I hope," McGonagall continued briskly, her stern tone lifting slightly as a rare smile appeared on her face, "to soon be the sixth."
"And transform into what," Sirius muttered darkly, "a bad-tempered dragon with tartan scales?"
While James snickered, slapping him a discreet high-five beneath their shared desk, Remus shook his head witheringly. He knew full well that Sirius had deserved the detention that McGonagall had awarded him at the beginning of class, but he knew with equal certainty that Sirius was unable to see grounds for such punishment.
"Shouldn't have transfigured her desk into a stuffed lion," Remus murmured quietly to himself, scratching his face absently with end of his quill as he studied his notes on animagi.
"What's that?" Sirius asked loudly, swivelling in his seat to stare at Remus with round eyes. "Do I sense a traitor in our midst?"
Remus slumped down in his seat, draping an arm about his face in order to avoid attention from his other classmates. He hated being singled out. He hated that Sirius could so offhandedly place his name and the word traitor in a sentence, even now, when the black-haired boy had to know how cautious Remus had to be to avoid all suspicion.
"I believe that our martyred friend is referring to your apparent lack of Gryffindor pride, my dear Remus," James broke in hastily, gifted with greater perceptivity than Sirius (which wasn't hard). Such saves, these days, were all too frequent.
Sirius harrumphed. Remus slid his arm aside so that he could peer forward cautiously, and was surprised to see that Sirius' attention was still firmly fixed on him. He supposed that he had somehow broken the fierce and noble bonds of the blood promise in such a manner as to deserve a share of the wrath that McGonagall usually held alone.
"Why d'you even bother taking notes, Remus?" Sirius asked, his expression quickly sliding from offended to vaguely curious. "Surely you, of all people, couldn't give a golden snitch about this transforming into animals thing."
Remus cringed, covered his face once more, and began scribbling nonsense into his notes with a slightly desperate grip on his quill. Two seconds later, when the nib broke, he threw the quill down and tried to wipe his sweaty hands surreptitiously on his robes, refusing to glance up at Sirius again. He was afraid that such a glance might quickly become a glare. Remus refused to lose his friends because of his lycanthropy, but any more of these 'slips' from Sirius…
"Actually, I think being an animagus would be really cool," Peter said suddenly, taking the stretching silence as a cue for his opinion on the subject. Remus felt the shudder of his desk as Peter scraped his chair forward from beside him, leaning heavily towards James and Sirius as he spoke. "Imagine if you really could turn into an animal at will."
"What would you want to be?" James asked, his voice falsely casual, eager, it seemed, to distract Remus and Sirius from their respective silences. "It'd be pretty cool to be able to fly, or something."
"Yeah, yeah, we know you love flying, James," Sirius contributed rudely. "Why don't you just transform yourself into a broomstick at will?"
"But who would ride him?" Peter questioned, gazing about in confusion as both Sirius and James began snorting with laughter at a joke that the smaller boy didn't understand. He released a giggle nervously, and glanced at Remus for confirmation.
Remus wasn't in the mood for crude humour. He was still inwardly seething at Sirius' disregard for the necessity of discretion on the subject of his lycanthropy. Although his face remained carefully blank, a skill honed through a lifetime of deception, this was only for the benefit of his three friends. While he concentrated on the scribbled information in front of him, he silently wished that McGonagall would put the current conversation to rest, as she was want to do.
"What's up with you today, Moony?" Sirius asked suddenly, having returned to his previous state of bored curiosity. Remus stiffened, broken from his careful state of concentration by Sirius' audacity. As he glared at his desk with narrowing eyes, as he heard James thwack Sirius on the back of the head, as his breathing quickened and his sweaty fists clenched, he felt the burning of pure, molten fury build in his stomach.
Moony? What kind of a nickname was that? What kind of an idiot threw about a name designed to destroy the carefully crafted world of a friend, whose tenuous facade as a human being relied on the fact that others never guessed his secret? And couldn't Sirius see how deeply Remus hated and feared the moon? Couldn't he guess that any reminder of the shining orb filled Remus with a dark and painful dread?
"Are you alright, Remus?" he heard an apprehensive Peter inquire. Remus couldn't move to make a response for fear of losing control, leaping over the desk and assaulting Sirius with his bare, bruised fists. Instead, he channelled his energy into thinking of Peter, the quiet friend, the one who wouldn't betray him so flippantly, the one who still seemed afraid that Remus could transform into a werewolf at any moment and massacre them all, but hung around with him nonetheless.
"Fine," he finally choked out, exhaling harshly, dimly aware of a building urge to breathe.
"It's not his time of the month for two weeks," Sirius told Peter in a stage-whisper, cupping his hand to his mouth for dramatic effect. Before Remus could even control himself enough to storm out of the classroom, Sirius' satisfied smirk disappeared. Both boys looked forward as a chair scraped roughly against the floor, silencing McGonagall's sharp voice at the front of the room.
"Potter, what are you-" she began, pushing her spectacles up her long nose with fury, but James interrupted.
"I just wanted to correct your statement from before, Professor," he stated coolly, refusing to look down at a puzzled Sirius, who had begun tugging on his robes questioningly. "Unfortunately, you will be the seventh animagus this century. Sirius has already managed to turn himself into a snake."
Slapping off Sirius' hand, which had paused in its tugging in shock, James turned on his heel and swept out of the classroom, leaving an extremely displeased Professor McGonagall to take ten points from Gryffindor while glaring at Sirius. Sirius himself was undoubtedly incensed by this declaration, and spent the remainder of the class scratching rude words into the top of his desk, blunting the end of James' favourite quill with evident pleasure.
Remus stared at the top of his own desk without concentrating, waiting for his heart to stop pounding so violently. He tried to nod in response to Peter's whispered speculation about James' bizarre behaviour, but ultimately resorted to a regular, jerking motion of his neck.
Oh, there was no doubt that he felt unbelievable grateful and touched by James' loyalty, but it was guilt, not relief, that solidified into a painful lump in Remus' chest. He had sworn that this wouldn't happen. He had promised himself that his 'secret' would never be allowed to interfere with his friendship. And yet, barely a fortnight after his closest friends had discovered that he was a lycanthrope, Remus had already managed to provoke an argument between Sirius and James.
He supposed that the timing of this lesson on animagi was a testament to his endless bad luck. In the twelve days since Remus had been permitted to leave the Hospital Wing, there had been an unspoken agreement between his three friends to avoid mentioning anything that concerned werewolves, or the moon, or the bruising that coloured Remus' arms.
Remus supposed that McGonagall's lesson had been the last straw for Sirius, whose ability to evade the obvious for extended periods had been stretched to the limit. The black-haired boy had undoubtedly been itching to confront Remus since the moment he had limped out of Madam Pomphrey's sight.
As the class was unceremoniously released, and the delicious scents of lunchtime wafted through the open door, Remus grabbed his books and leapt from his seat before his two remaining friends had even moved. Despite his queasy feeling of guilt, he knew that he would be unable to control himself enough to engage in any kind of civil conversation with someone who gave him the nickname 'Moony'.
He'd heard enough of animagi, enough of animals and transformations to last him until the exam period. As he tore through the bustling corridors, his Transfiguration notes were crushed in his clenched fists.
"I don't know, James," a low voice groaned quietly, halting Remus' fingers as he reached to turn the doorknob. He drew in a sharp breath as he heard the obvious misery in Sirius' tone from within their dormitory.
Knowing all the while that he should leave, Remus silently knelt beside the doorframe, pushed his armful of books to the side, and slumped against the hard wooden door, pressing his ear to the crack in the frame. His eyes widened slightly as he heard an unmistakeable edge in James' response. Evidently, Sirius' carelessness in Transfiguration had neither been forgiven nor forgotten.
"It's lycanthropy, not some thrilling parlour trick, Sirius," James said bitingly, "and if I were Remus, I'd drag you out under a full moon and give you a taste of what his 'secret' feels like."
It was difficult for Remus to stop, recollect, and remember all the many reasons why he shouldn't shower this particular opinion with applause. Certainly, it was tempting to lapse back into fury at Sirius' lack of caution, but how could Remus really expect any of his friends to understand? Sirius' reaction should have been much less surprising than James', considering that his friends had been necessarily cushioned by ignorance for the better part of three years.
Distracted from a whirling contradiction of thoughts and emotions by Sirius' reluctant voice, Remus forced his ear even closer to the conversation that was taking place on the other side of the door.
"Yeah, I know it's been a secret, James, and do you think that doesn't bother me? Doesn't it bother you? We have been living, eating, talking, and pranking with Remus for three years, and not once has anyone raised a hand and mentioned the full moon."
Heart sinking, a desperate pain cutting through all other emotions, Remus clenched his eyes shut and tried not to listen to the self-righteous voices that sprung into his head. He tried to ignore the victory of a pessimism that had accompanied him throughout his years at Hogwarts, a pessimism which had darkened the otherwise bright prospect of real friends.
He tried to focus on the hiss that issued from James' mouth in the absence of a proper response. Remus knew that James, stubborn as he was loyal, would never back down in his bizarre support for his werewolf friend – but stubbornness was no substitute for an argument that could respond honestly to Sirius' words.
"Nobody ever mentions your family," James spat out weakly, but Remus could sense a weary defeat in his lacklustre retort. It was so easy to imagine James sitting in there, legs crossed, stiffly upright in anger, sweeping a hand through his unruly black hair righteously in response to Sirius' replying glare.
"My family's no secret, Potter, but it's hard enough for me to deal with. What about Remus? What do you reckon he's been thinking for the past two weeks? We haven't said a bloody thing to him about the small, insignificant fact that we know he's a werewolf!"
Sirius' voice, which had grown progressively louder, was positively scathing as he bit out the last five words. However, when he continued, his volume had dropped significantly, and a new severity marked his words.
"What do you think he's has been thinking, James? I reckon he thinks we're afraid of him, or something stupid like that. You saw his face back there in the Hospital Wing."
There was a brief silence, in which Remus forcibly silenced the ragged edge to his breathing, and tried to remove his nails from his palms with sheer willpower. His feverish brain pictured the scene behind the door, in which Sirius' unexpected words had caused James to slump back against his pillows and nod reluctantly.
"So yeah, I was trying to get a rise out of him in Transfiguration, James, and I'm far from ashamed for it. If I have to call him Moony to make him talk about his lycanthropy, I'll bloody well do it."
Another short silence passed, in which Remus quietly scrolled back through the events in Transfiguration, applying this new interpretation to Sirius' careless words. He nodded to himself in wonder. Evidently, James was experiencing a similar reaction to this enlightenment.
"There are worse nicknames, Mr Snuffles," James said lightly, obviously trying to ease some of the tension that had gathered in the room. "In fact, Moony is quite urbane compared to some of the things that you normally call Remus."
If Remus' face hadn't become frozen in a permanent grimace of dread, he might have rolled his eyes in acknowledgement of the truth in James' words. Really, compared to Sirius' regular chants of 'loony, loopy, Lupin', Moony wasn't such a bad nickname. Undoubtedly, the two weeks of furtive glances exchanged between silent friends had contributed to the initial fury of Remus' response to hearing the name spring from Sirius' lips.
"Shut up, Potter," Sirius groaned, "and if you ever call me by that offensive name again, I will dump you for Peter."
"Even Peter would never fall for someone called Mr Snuf-"
Coincidentally, it was at that precise moment that Peter's foot found unexpected purchase in Remus' stomach. Evidently, the boy hadn't been looking where he was going, and had grasped blindly for the doorhandle while stepping forward. With an almighty clatter, and several bad words, Peter fell unceremoniously forward as the door swung open, landing painfully on his face – and in the middle of James' scathing retort.
For a moment, while Peter gathered himself, painfully sprawled upon the notes which he had been reading as he attempted to enter the dormitory, Sirius and James looked past the mess to where Remus still crouched, flushing with guilt.
"Er," Remus managed to squeak, moving a hand slowly to his ribs and quietly dislodging Peter's foot. "I dropped my…"
"Morals?" Sirius offered with every appearance of indignant outrage, though a wry smile pried at the edges of his lips. "Conscience?"
Remus smiled weakly as James clicked to attention, and sank easily into his role as Sirius' partner in jibes.
"So the werewolf finally descends to our level of moral bankruptcy, is that right?" James demanded, placing brave emphasis on the word 'werewolf', a sheepish grin lighting his face.
Remus tried very hard to scoff. "I doubt that I could sink that low," he said loftily, and rolled stiffly onto his back, grabbing his face in his hands. "I am so very embarrassed."
"Word to the wise, werewolf," Sirius pronounced with striking alliteration, "next time, don't get caught."
"Stop saying that word," Remus groaned, eyes still squeezed shut against his sweaty palms. He continued desperately, sensing the meaningful gazes that were being exchanged between James and Sirius. "No, no, I'm not trying to avoid the subject, it's just that the door is open, and surely you've realised how important it is to keep – it – a secret from the rest of the student body."
Everyone was startled as a fourth voice entered the conversation, Peter finally managing to pull himself up onto his elbows.
"So you don't hate us for knowing, then?"
Remus winced. There was no straight answer to this question, and no honest response that his three friends would wish to hear. He cleared his throat while he rolled awkwardly through the doorframe and slammed the heavy wooden door shut with a kick of his foot.
"I suppose," he began, sitting up and looking deliberately at each of his friends, "that it's better for you to know my secret, despite the crippling fear of knowing that it's three times more likely that I'll be expelled from Hogwarts now."
"Expelled?" Peter repeated loudly, clearly shocked. He looked back and forth between the suddenly serious black-haired boys that sat silently on James' bed, a horrified expression on his face.
"I'm so sorry," Sirius suddenly muttered, guilt shading his eyes as he surveyed Remus' feet with obvious remorse. "I'm such an idiot. Transfiguration-"
"- will never be repeated," James finished, leaving Sirius to nod emphatically, still refusing to meet Remus' eyes.
"I should've expected it, really," Remus sighed, rolling his eyes. "It just figures that a lesson on animagi would crop up at this most awkward point in time."
"The animagi were cool, mate," James sighed, evidently relieved that all the tension of the previous fortnight had suddenly evaporated. "You wouldn't have to wait for a full moon, would you?"
"I never wait for a full moon," Remus said dryly, "I dread its arrival."
"Always face your fears, Moony," Sirius admonished brashly, reaching forward and picking up some of Peter's less crumpled pages of notes from the floor. He pointed something out to James in a would-be casual manner, but tossed aside the paper before Remus could read anything beyond the word 'animagus'.
"Shut up, Mr Snuffles," Remus sighed, shifting to lie flat on his back on the wooden floorboards, a certain buoyancy settling happily about his stomach. Maybe things could go back to the way they were after all…
A/N: There we are, another chapter. Hope you enjoyed!
Please click the review button and drop me a line. Leave me a comment. Discuss the pros and cons of Mr Snuffles. Suggest a corresponding name for James or Peter.
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xx Froody