Author's note: CW slight unaware self harm (scratching).
Huge thanks to Julia (TheCheeseburgerCat on AO3) for help with the French, and also shout out to one of my readers for (sort of) suggesting the character that is introduced in this chapter. I think it was Maya? If I'm wrong please let me know. They didn't outright suggest this character exactly, but suggested the circumstances in which this character appears and because of what I already had for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… I felt they fit in perfectly. Also I know Lockhart is "canonically" four years younger than the Marauders but I aged him up a bit to come in sooner. Since it's not really BOOK canon, I figured it was fine :P
-x-
The Great Hall stretched high above their heads as the Marauders went in. Since they had been in one of the first carriages, they had most of the Gryffindor table to choose from. James chose a seat about halfway down and Sirius sat with him, while Peter and Remus sat across from them. Slowly other students trickled in, many shouting greetings to friends or acquaintances they hadn't seen on the train.
"Hey Potter!" shouted Patricia Bell, the sixth year Captain of the Gryffindor team. James waved happily towards her, as well as the rest of the main team as they came in.
Seo-Yun Kim, one of the Beaters, also greeted Sirius, punching his arm as she walked past. Sirius made a swipe for her without really meaning it. "You trying out?" she asked, walking backwards.
"Eh, might be," Sirius said and Kim flashed him a thumbs up before sitting with her friends.
"You are?" James asked. "You didn't tell me!"
Sirius shrugged, propping his elbows on the table. "I don't know. There's only a Chaser position, and the giant arsehole that is Kirke will probably get it, won't he? Reserves usually do. I don't really want to be a reserve. Or a Chaser."
"We'd make brilliant Chasers together though," James said.
Sirius smiled before blowing a strand of hair from his face. "We would, but I don't really like trying to get the Quaffle from other people, or trying to score."
Not all the teachers were there when they initially went in, however as the great Hall slowly filled, the teachers also trickled in from a side room. Remus sat up a little, eyes going huge when a stranger came out of the room, a nervous smile on his face.
He was rather short—probably shorter than Sirius—with darkish skin, big eyes, short curly grey hair, a slight beard, and a paunchy stomach. He wore rather fancy robes and Remus guessed him to be in his fifties or sixties.
"Who's he?" Peter whispered. "Does he look American? What do Americans look like?"
Remus held a finger to his lips as the man spoke to Professor Sprout. Then Remus shook his head. "No, it's too loud in here. Was hoping to catch an accent."
"We'll find out soon enough," said James. "Hey Charmer!" he shouted as the Seeker for the team breezed in.
"Hey Potter!" she laughed. "Ready to murder this year?"
James flexed his rather scrawny arms. "The other houses are going down!"
"I just hope Slytherin's new Seeker isn't too good," she said, giving a shrug before she joined her friends.
Sirius whipped around, looking at the Slytherin table. Specifically, his little brother. "So that's what he's after," he mumbled.
"What, your brother?" Pete asked.
"Yeah, he said he wanted to try out for the team," Sirius said, still watching Regulus.
"There's a Chaser position open too," James pointed out.
The Great Hall was almost completely full, and right when Remus's stomach gave a gurgle of hunger, the main doors opened. Professor McGonagall entered the room, followed by two long lines of first years. Everyone in the Great Hall went silent, watching the little kids make their way to the front of the room.
McGonagall set a stool down and on it put the Sorting Hat. The few whispers quieted and everyone waited. Nothing happened for a second and then the Hat's brim opened, and a song boomed across the Hall.
"Once a year I am taken from the shelf
Brought in here and put on the stool.
I sing my song, you all applause
Then I find your place in the school.
Not always your bloodline, or what you show
It could very well be what you desire.
You'll find I look for more than what others might see
I look deep for what you aspire.
You might show patience but want to be clever,
You could be bold but like those ambitious.
There's a lot for me to figure out
What would be most propitious.
I could look in your heart, and there find a badger
Hard-working, loyal, and strong.
Or I could find a lion instead
Among the brave and chivalrous you belong.
There might be inside you, an eagle to see
To have growth with the creative and smart.
Or perhaps it will be a snake that shines
For the resourceful, and friends who don't part.
I'll give your house, where you fit best
Your home for the next few years.
You'll find a place to thrive, and friends to make
Once you just fit me snug 'round your ears!"
The applause this year wasn't as thunderous as the previous two years. Quite a few students seemed a little confused by what they just heard.
"Oh, I bet some of those Pureblood Slytherins are mad!" giggled James quietly. "All that about how it's not the bloodline!"
"Remus," Peter whispered in Remus's ear as McGonagall got the list of students out. "What's prop-ishis?"
"Good conditions, favorable, auspicious," Remus explained as he clapped. "It was a good line, with ambitious." Peter nodded solemnly and Remus smiled. "Auspicious means a good sign of something… again it means favorable…"
"Yeah, thanks, I wasn't sure 'bout that word too."
McGonagall was calling out names and one by one the first years stumbled forward to be Sorted. Some sat on the stool for hardly any time, others were under the Hat for quite some time. The first student to be put into Gryffindor was a tall girl named Axelle Cinderash, and the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers. Remus covered his ears, regretting not wearing his earplugs.
The Sorting ceremony proceeded as normal until the Ls were reached. Remus couldn't help but feel a flutter of apprehension when McGonagall called a name and nobody came forward. He remembered his own Sorting, and how McGonagall called his name multiple times until someone shoved him forward—Snape, he remembered.
"Lockhart, Gilderoy?" McGonagall called again, searching the first years. Nobody moved. "Lockhart, Gilderoy?" she called a third time and at that point a small blonde boy stepped forward. Only a foot or so ahead of the group.
"Pardon," he said, his small voice trying to sound as loud as possible, "but I will go last." With that he stepped back into the crowd of first years.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Please step up to the stool for your Sorting."
The kid gave a slight sigh. "I think you'll find that I should go last. That's how you do things. Save the best for last."
The Great Hall erupted into giggles and snickers. Remus clapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.
"Are you kidding me?" snorted James.
"Mr. Lockhart, step forward for your Sorting now, or return home," McGonagall said, obviously trying not to sound irritated.
The boy's eyes widened and he frowned briefly before plastering a smile on his face. He tossed his head back and slowly strode up to the stool. The Hat was placed over his head and everyone was paying close attention, wondering where this child would be sent. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute, then another minute. When a third minute passed by Remus heard people whispering about the possibility of a Hatstall. The only Hatstall Remus knew was Peter, though he didn't know what the other House the Hat tried to place him in. He was wondering vaguely where Peter was almost put, when the Hat finally opened his brim again. It was just under the five minute limit that was a Hatstall.
"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat announced.
The boy looked horribly smug as he swaggered over to the eagle's table. There was a smattering of applause, though more than a few Ravenclaws looked unsure.
At least the Sorting could continue, and by the time McGonagall finished up with 'Zell, Gaspar' (Hufflepuff) Remus was starving. He wriggled in his seat, hoping Professor Dumbledore didn't take too long to introduce the new teacher.
Except instead of McGonagall taking the Sorting Hat away, she took a step forward. "In addition, we have another new student this year. A transfer student from Beauxbatons, who will be a fourth year. Jean-Marie Charlemagne!"
The doors opened and a boy slouched in, eyes locked on Professor McGonagall. He had richly tanned skin, very curly black hair, and looked like he did not want to be there.
"Jean-Marie?" James snickered. "Isn't that a girl's name?"
"Not in France," Remus hissed out.
Charlemagne sat on the stool, hunching even more as McGonagall put the hat on him. It only took a few seconds for him to be Sorted into Ravenclaw. McGonagall pointed at the table and he slouched over, sitting at the corner by himself.
Then McGonagall removed the Hat and stool, while Dumbledore stood up to welcome everyone to school, stating he hoped everyone helped Jean-Marie feel comfortable at school. Then he introduced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Professor Sylvain Charlemagne!"
The chubby man stood up and everyone clapped.
"That explains the transfer student," said Sirius as Dumbledore announced for the feast to begin.
There were gasps from the first years as food appeared across the tables while the older students began getting their food without any hesitation. Remus piled food on his own plate, hardly waiting before stuffing a large hunk of chicken in his mouth. All four Marauders probably looked a bit like wild animals as they ate, and Remus was dimly aware of a first year girl staring at them with slight horror.
Soon there were more gasps from the first years, and a few startled screams, as the ghosts of Hogwarts floated in. The Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, stopped by Remus to say hello before moving on to sit near some first years. Remus was friends with a lot of the ghosts, especially Sir Nicholas, Theodore, and Myrtle—though Theodore and Myrtle hadn't come into the Great Hall. Theodore liked to keep to himself, while Myrtle rarely left her bathroom. Remus would have to be sure to find them the next day to say hello.
"Wonder what he's gonna be like," James said once he started slowing down in his eating.
Me too. Remus glanced up at the High Table, at Professor Charlemagne. How does he feel about werewolves? There was something about him that reminded Remus a little of Professor Dedenne, though he thought that might just be because Charlemagne was so much shorter than Professor Prewett.
"At least we don't have to worry about classes tomorrow," said Sirius as he tried flicking a cooked carrot across the table at Remus. It was very mushy and fell apart.
"Which you'll be spending doing homework, right?" Remus asked, arching his eyebrows. "Because you didn't do any, did you?"
Sirius shrugged, going back to eating. "I did some. One. An essay. Aren't you proud of me?" He put his hands under his chin and fluttered his eyelashes.
Remus gave a sniffle. "Clean up your carrot."
"Ouch." But at least he swept the carrot closer to his plate.
The four of them chattered happily for the rest of the meal, though by the time dessert appeared their conversation began flagging. It had been a long day and the food had made them rather sleepy. After everyone finished and the puddings disappeared, Professor Dumbledore stood up again to inform the first year that the Forbidden Forest was off-limits (giving the Marauders a pointed look), that magic wasn't to be used in the corridors (also looking at the Marauders), and that all the rules would be posted on the common room boards so please read them. He said that returning students would do well to brush up on the rules, and for the third time gave the Marauders a look. Finally, he said Quidditch tryouts would begin the second week, then he had everyone stand up to sing the school song. Words appeared floating above his head and everyone sang their own tune.
Remus had every intention of not singing until he realized James and Sirius were shouting the song to the tune of Sweet Caroline; Peter and Remus quickly joined in, including 'BUM BUM BUMS' even though that wasn't part of the school song, nor did it really go well with the lyrics. Several other students gave them strange looks, though a handful of Muggleborns looked amused. Lily was going pink, shoving her fist into her mouth, unable to finish singing.
Dumbledore bid everyone a goodnight, and the Prefects hopped up so they could herd their first years. The Marauders got up, James and Sirius climbing over the table to join Peter and Remus so they wouldn't get lost in the crowd. Sirius clamped a hand firmly around Remus's wrist, telling him it was for his own good, because he was too short.
Except as they began shuffling towards the door, someone shouted his name.
"Mr. Lupin! Mr. Lupin, a moment?"
They stopped, turning to see McGonagall weaving her way through the students, one hand motioning for Remus to come over.
"M—me?" he squeaked.
"How many other Lupins are there?" James joked.
Sirius let go and Remus nervously went over to the deputy headmistress. He couldn't be in trouble already! If anyone was, it'd be James and Sirius, not him.
"Is s-s-something wrong?"
"Not at all," she said with a smile, putting her arm in the air near his back to guide him towards the back of the room, opposite the way everyone else was going. "I needed to speak with you for a moment, about something. You're not in trouble," she added, since he had gone very pale.
Is it about Fawley, maybe? He doubted that. He wouldn't see her till the next day at the earliest. Was it about his timetable? Perhaps something had happened and he'd be unable to take all the electives—though surely they would have told him before he bought his books!
To his shock McGonagall took him into a little side room where Professor Charlemagne and the younger Charlemagne waited. Professor Charlemagne's eyes locked onto Remus, and there was something unreadable in them. The younger one saw Remus and looked unamused.
"If I remember correctly, you are fluent with speaking, reading, and writing French, aren't you?" McGonagall asked. Remus, still terrified about what was going on, managed a small nod. "I was wondering if perhaps you wouldn't mind helping Mr. Charlemagne, as he doesn't know much English."
Remus swallowed, looking at Charlemagne who had folded his arms, giving Remus an annoyed look. "Je ne vois pas ce que ce... petit anglais pourrait faire pour m'aider," he sneered.
All fear melted away as Remus bristled with annoyance. I don't see what this little English boy could do to help me. Emphasis on little. Was everyone going to make fun of his height this year?!
Before anyone else could say anything and without even thinking, Remus replied with, "Tout d'abord, je suis gallois et non anglais, donc ne m'appelez pas comme ça." He puffed up, the words spitting out. "Deuxièmement, je ne vois pas ce que la taille a à voir avec la maîtrise d'une langue."
First of all I'm Welsh not English so don't call me that. Secondly, I don't see what size has to do with mastering a language.
While he spoke, Charlemagne raised his eyebrows and when he finished, Professor Charlemagne laughed, clapping his hands. "On dirait que nous avons quelqu'un pour vous suivre!"
Looks like we have someone to keep up with you, which Remus wanted to argue that he had no intention of 'keeping up' or even helping the new student until he realized he'd be talking back to a teacher. He managed to hold his tongue, before saying something stupid. Instead he turned to Professor McGonagall. "I—I appreciate the—that—that you thought of me but—er, isn't he a year older? And in Ravenclaw?" He had no idea why he, of all students, would be picked! There had to be loads of others who spoke and read French in either Ravenclaw or the same year as the new kid!
"Actually, I'm the one who thought of you," Professor Charlemagne said, his accent not as heavy as Remus expected. "When Minerva told me about the students around Jean-Marie's age who might be able to help, she mentioned you in case he was put in Gryffindor. Despite him being in Ravenclaw, I still thought you would be a good choice."
Remus felt sick. "M… me?"
"Are you related to Lyall Lupin?"
That made the sickness worse, and his limbs go heavy. "Ah—er, y-yes," he managed to get out. Professor Charlemagne knew his dad? "He's m-my father."
"You see…" Professor Charlemagne trailed off, rubbing his beard. "My sister taught him. At Beauxbatons. She was a teacher for a while, in the thirties and forties. She mentioned him a few times and when I heard your name I thought it was such an interesting coincidence. I'm a believer of… ah… happy chances. Serendipitous events. It would be good luck, I think. My sister taught your father, and now, if you wish, you could perhaps help my nephew…?"
The younger Charlemagne kept making huffy sounds while the Professor spoke. "He… speaks it well," he admitted slowly, his accent much thicker than his uncle.
"Mieux avec le français que tu es avec l'anglais," the professor replied jovially, ignoring his nephew's annoyed look. Better with French than you are with English.
Professor McGonagall drew Remus aside. "I know you have a full timetable," she said quietly. "If this is too much for you, everyone will understand."
Remus glanced at the two Charlemagnes, then back at McGonagall. He wanted to say no because he knew he was going to have a very busy year. But… well, part of him wanted to say yes because he liked helping people. Especially with school-related things. His friends sometimes jokingly called him a professor (which was very annoying), but it wasn't really that far off the mark. It was the only reason he remained in Study Group. If I help him, I might quit Study Group, or only go down to one day a week, he thought, chewing at his lip.
Jean-Marie Charlemagne was watching with Remus with deep brown eyes. Remus's heart began going a little faster and suddenly he felt flustered, realizing for the first time how c—
Oh nonononoNO!
He gulped, pulling his hands into his robes sleeves in case they grew sweaty. Say no, he told himself as he switched his gaze back to McGonagall. There wasn't any pressure on him to say yes, McGonagall made that clear. Considering how his body was reacting it would be best to say no. Considering his timetable it would be best to say no. Considering how much time was sunk into pranks with the Marauders, and hanging out with them he should say no.
"Y—y—yes," he stammered out. "Um, I c-can help. I mean, I'd—I'd be willing if—if he is all right with that. But… je comprendrai si vous êtes trop gêné pour être enseigné par quelqu'un de plus petit que vous, dans quel cas vous ne serez pas satisfait avec une partie de vos nouveaux professeurs." I'll understand if you're too embarrassed to be taught by someone shorter than you, in which case you won't be happy with a few of your new teachers.
Professor Charlemagne began laughing, and the younger one's lips quirked a bit at the edge before he replied with, "Vous avez plus qu'assez de sarcasme pour quelqu'un de deux foix ma taille."
Remus snorted, trying not to smile. You have more than enough sarcasm for someone twice my height.
"Je pense mes…" He trailed off. I think my, he managed to get out, intending to comment on the fact his parents would agree, but that was too much. Too much even for the Marauders, let alone someone he hardly knew—yet he couldn't help feeling that he did know Jean-Marie Charlemagne, which was ridiculous.
"Excellent," Professor Charlemagne said, looking very pleased.
The younger one stepped forward, offering his hand. "Jean-Marie," he said.
Remus nervously took his hand, hoping that his wasn't as sweaty as he thought it might be. "Remus."
"We…" Jean-Marie frowned, brow furrowing, "will meet… ahh… bientôt?"
"W-we can m-m-meet soon, y-yes," Remus mumbled, glad to have his hand back.
"Mr. Lupin, while Minerva finds a Ravenclaw to help Jean-Marie to his common room, may I have a word with you?" Professor Charlemagne asked.
McGonagall nodded and took Jean-Marie out; he glanced quickly over his shoulder at Remus, smiled, and then the door shut behind them. Remus felt frightened again, shut up in the room with his new Defense teacher. This time he knew perfectly well what was about to be said.
"I planned on speaking to you after our first class," Charlemagne said, rubbing his hands together a little nervously. Yeah, here it comes. "It's in regards to your… er… your… your…"
Remus kept his eyes on his teacher, wanting to see his expression. "Illness?" he offered tactfully.
Charlemagne winced, as Remus suspected he would. "Yes. I…"
You don't have much experience with werewolves, Remus thought, the same line the previous two teachers used.
"I've never really been around any werewolves, at least not to my knowledge," Charlemagne said carefully, clasping his hands behind his back. "To be perfectly honest with you, I've always been frightened of… werewolves."
Remus's stomach twisted up into a tight knot, except he knew this wasn't going to be quite like Dedenne. After all, if Charlemagne knew Remus was a werewolf before this—which he clearly did—then he never would have asked Remus to help Jean-Marie.
"However," Charlemagne continued, looking everywhere besides Remus, "I can sympathize with having your life being forced down a path not of your choosing."
Remus frowned. This was new.
"Your lot in life is not something you chose, nor is there anything you can do to change that which I find to be… vastly unfair and wrong. Everyone should be free to choose their own life…" His voice drifted off as he looked out the window at the cloudy sky. "Society…" He trailed off yet again, rocking back and forth. "Society can be wrong about a lot of things." It sounded like he was talking to himself more than Remus, so he remained silent, no idea what even to say to that. "I agreed to be your teacher, and I will not… ah…" This time he stopped on purpose, probably trying to find the right word in English. "I shall not shirk my duty," he settled on. He turned, eyes back on Remus. "Regardless of any fears I may hold towards what happens under the full moon, I hope that I can do well as your teacher. If I ever do or say anything that makes you uncomfortable, I hope you are willing to come to me to tell me. So I can learn, too."
Remus really had no clue what to say after that!
Charlemagne cleared his throat. "Also this year I believe I will be teaching your class about werewolves. I intended to speak from the book, as I—" He stopped yet again. "As I believe most teachers do. However… I was wondering if you would be willing to meet with me sometime, and you can let me know whether there is anything in the book you feel should not be included. Or if anything would be added." He narrowed his eyes at that. "Though… perhaps… sometimes some falsehood is best, yes? I admit, if I had not been told about you, I never would have guessed you were the werewolf. I always thought they were…"
"Big," Remus supplied when his new teacher didn't continue the sentence. "M—muscled."
Charlemagne had the grace to look sheepish. "Yes. I was always taught werewolves were inhuman, and that they looked it. That one could see the feral evil reflected in their face. I never questioned that until you came into the room, and I am sorry I never thought to."
This was extremely awkward. Remus tugged at his sleeve, chewing again at his lip.
"I should let you go," Charlemagne said pleasantly. "I'm sure you have a lot of… ahh… revelry planned for tonight." Then he held his hand out. Remus shook it, a bit surprised at how gentle Charlemagne's hand was. "I'm also sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that was not my intention."
"No, n—no, it's f-fine," he lied. Not quite lied. He was a little uncomfortable, but not as much as he had been before the conversation. Actually, thinking about it, he was glad it happened. If Charlemagne was honest about realizing he bought into the stereotypes and felt bad about it…! That was something Remus never expected to hear. "Th-thank you."
"I'll see you Monday," Charlemagne said, going over to open the door that led back into the Great Hall.
"Have a g-good night, sir," Remus said, ducking past him and racing across the nearly empty Great Hall. He ran through open doors, spotted his friends nearby, and ran over in time to hear Sirius speaking perfect French. He was so shocked he stopped in his tracks, mouth a little open.
"Remus!" James pounced past Sirius, grabbing Remus's arm. "We were so bloody worried!"
"What happened?" Peter asked, hopping from foot to foot. "McGonagall came out a moment ago and said you were busy, when we asked!"
"Erm—the—the new teacher wanted a word. Sirius, you speak French?"
They began walking, ducking down a side corridor to use some secret passages to get to the seventh floor since the Grand Stairwell was still crowded.
"Oui!" Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm across Remus's shoulders. "C'est quelque chose qu'on m'a appris à la maison, donc je suppose que c'est quelque chose auquel j'essaie de ne pas penser."
Remus stiffened slightly at those words. It's something I was taught at home, so I guess it's something I try not to think about. What was that supposed to mean?
Before Remus could say anything, Sirius danced out in front of him, grinning. "Mais oui, je parle français! Par exemple, vous avez l'air très beau! Votre cravate est tordue, mais cela ajoute au charme."
Remus raised an eyebrow, startled by what Sirius said. But yes, I speak French! which wasn't so unusual. However… For example, you look very beautiful! definitely seemed to be an odd choice, but since he was speaking so quickly Remus figured Sirius had actually said bon, which meant well, instead of beau which was beautiful and the enunciation wasn't clear enough. Because it made zero sense for Sirius to say beautiful, and a lot of sense for it to be well. Your tie is crooked though, but that adds to the charm.
Remus glanced down and tried to fix his tie. "Merci même si je me sens stupide pour la cravate tordue recontrant le nouveau professeur. C'est peut-être charmant mais il enseigne la Défense," he replied with a grin. Thank you though I feel stupid for the tie being crooked meeting the new professor. Maybe it's charming but he teaches Defense.
James and Peter's mouth hung open while Sirius almost fell backwards, one hand covering his mouth.
"You—you—you speak French!?" he gasped out, cheeks going slightly pink.
"Yes?" Remus realized he never actually told them, though he was a little surprised it… well, surprised them so much. "Oh. Yes, I—er, I—I mean my father is half-French and went to Beauxbatons, I've told you that!"
Sirius didn't say anything, just kept his hand over his mouth.
"Er, yeah." James mussed his hair up. "I guess we never thought that meant you knew French."
Remus toed the ground. "Yeah. I was taught French and Welsh growing up—"
"You know Welsh too?!" Peter exclaimed.
Merlin's beard. Remus rubbed his forehead. "Yes. Though, er, that one I… definitely am less likely to talk about than French."
"Anything else you're keeping from us?" James asked, a similar question to one he had asked before on a couple of occasions. Before, the question would make Remus feel guilty.
He didn't really feel that guilty this time. "Yes," he said, staring straight into James's eyes. "I'm a werewolf, too." The words came out before he even really thought of them—or rather, no, he had thought of them, and had made sure they were completely alone, but it was said without him thinking-thinking about it. He had said it so casually, it shocked him a little.
There was a beat of silence then James and Peter both began laughing hard.
James wrapped an arm around Remus's waist and began walking again, pulling Remus with him. "Sorry, yeah, that was a dumb question. I know we talked before about that. It's fine, I shouldn't have asked. I guess it just surprised me. You've never talked in French or Welsh before!"
Remus wound the hem of his sleeveless jumper around his finger. "Er, I sorta have. I mean. The spells I've invented are all based on Welsh."
"Are they?" Peter scrunched his face up. "I thought they were nonsense words."
"As that's a very English view on the Welsh language, that doesn't surprise me," Remus replied, then flinched, realizing how tart he was being with his friend. "Er, sorry, I—"
"No, no." James squeezed his waist. "It's fine. It's true."
Peter was nodding furiously. "Yeah, I haven't heard much about the Welsh language but thinking 'bout it, yeah, it's usually not nice things said."
Remus sucked in some air, still feeling bad. "Yeah, er, that's why I don't really speak it. Wait… you—you should have known I knew Welsh! Last year, Lily and I asked you lot about whether it's fair to use Welsh words in Scrabble or not!"
James shrugged. "Yeah but knowing some words isn't the same as knowing the language, is it?"
"That's what I thought too," Pete agreed.
Remus hummed. "Yeah, fair that. Er, Sirius?" He looked back at Sirius who was following a few feet behind them, hands in his pockets, face rather red. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, dandy," Sirius muttered rather darkly.
Was it something I said? Remus's heart flip-flopped and he hoped it wasn't. "Er, well French—um—that's why McGonagall asked me to go with her. The new student doesn't know much English, and I was asked to help him a little bit."
"Why you?" James asked. "Isn't he a fourth year Ravenclaw?"
"Yes… well, the new teacher… apparently his sister taught my father at Beauxbatons," Remus explained, though as the words came out of his mouth they sounded odd to him. "He felt because there was a coincidence there, it would be good luck for me to help Jean-Marie."
Peter tilted his head to one side. "He came out of the Great Hall before you. The student, I mean."
"Professor Charlemagne also wanted to have the werewolf talk with me," Remus explained, rolling his eyes. "Like Professor Prewett and Dedenne both did."
"Oh," Peter whispered.
James looked into Remus's face. "And? Is he going to cause trouble?" He began rolling his sleeves up. "Do we have to rough him up?"
Remus smiled at the fierce loyalty in James's voice. "No, I think he'll be all right. He said he's afraid of werewolves but he hopes to get past what he realized societal stereotypes of us are."
"D'you think he was telling the truth?" Peter asked.
"I dunno. I think so. I guess we'll find out."
"If not—" James skipped ahead and then struck a weird pose. "IT'S BATTLE TIME!"
"What in Merlin's name is that?" Peter demanded. "What are you doing?!"
James scowled. "My battle pose!"
"It looks like you're constipated," Remus giggled.
James straightened up. "OI! I say I'll fight the new teacher for you and you go and say I look constipated—"
"Well, you did! ACK!"
Remus took off running as James got his wand out, and was chased up several flights of stairs before they both collapsed in a lot of laughter and giggles. Peter chugged up the stairs, huffing and puffing, while Sirius trudged behind him still silent, still looking upset about something. Remus's giggles died out and he reached into his sleeves, lightly scratching at his skin while he tried not to think about how it was probably something he did that bothered Sirius. After all, Sirius seemed fine until Remus confessed to knowing two more languages. Was that the problem? The fact Remus was still hiding things from them?
He hadn't meant to hide them—er, he hadn't meant to hide the French thing from them. He just never thought. The Welsh… all right, maybe he had tried to keep that quiet. Still…
"I—I am sorry," he blurted out. "That I never thought to talk about… knowing the other languages."
"It's fine!" James promised.
"Yeah, you've never really had a chance to use them anyway," Peter said.
Remus scratched more at his arm, waiting for Sirius to say something.
"I never really talked about the fact I spoke French either," he finally said, giving a small shrug. "No big deal."
"All right," Remus muttered.
Sirius suddenly bumped into him. "En plus, cela signifie que nous pouvons parler de James et Peter sans qu'ils le sachent," he said with a wink. Besides, it means we can talk about James and Peter without them knowing.
Remus let out another giggle while James and Peter both scowled, pointing out they could hear their names there. Sirius spread his hands out in a helpless sort of manner before ducking from James trying to tackle him. They skipped around each other, Sirius laughing while James let out threats.
Sirius at least seemed better and back to normal by the time they got to the Gryffindor tower, though they didn't stay long in their dorm. Their two dormmates, David Struthers (whom Remus was acquaintances with) and Morrander Spinnet (who was more or less an enemy of the Marauders) went to bed early. The Marauders hung out down in the common room instead, playing games, listening to music, and trying not to be too loud. At one point they played a card game where teamwork was essential, but so was keeping secrets from the other team. Sirius seized Remus as a partner and began talking in French to discuss their game plan which James and Peter immediately declared to be unfair. Remus agreed it was unfair… after they won one game, of course.
The four of them wound up crawling into their beds at around three in the morning, though James and Sirius were still awake in James's bed by the time Remus drifted into sleep. And for the first night in a long time, he didn't have any nightmares.