Chapter Eight: Wary of Werewolves

The November full moon fell on a Friday, which proved to be awkward for Remus as it meant that - not only did he have to suffer through a flying lesson while it felt like his bones were on fire - but that he would miss their Astronomy lesson at half past eleven. The whole year group would see he was missing - and they would be using their telescopes to peer straight up at a full frost moon for ninety minutes straight. 'What if they notice - what if they realise?' he fretted from the safety of their dorm on Thursday evening. 'With what Malidictus said yesterday … they'll all be hyper alert to it.'

'They won't realise,' Sirius said. He gave his wand a look of longing (James had banned him from practising Aguamenti inside their room) but then tore his eyes away and fixed his gaze on Remus. 'People are surprisingly short sighted - blinkered to anything that's not about them… and if anyone does notice, I'll hex them.'

'Oh, that won't draw more attention to it.'

'Look - if I turn Sniv into a pink chicken, I can assure you everyone will be looking at the chicken and not at the full moon… I'll make him lay eggs,' he added as a gleeful afterthought.

'You'll have to turn him into a girl chicken.'

But Sirius waved a dismissive hand. 'Semantics.'

…

It was with great relief that Remus finished his flying lesson on Friday afternoon, and headed back up to the dorm to thaw out and have a nap before tea.

'You're a lightweight,' James told him (his cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed a rosy red and he looked far too happy for someone who had just spent three quarters of an hour clutching a broom in sub zero temperatures). 'I'm going to head to the stadium to get a few laps in before dark.'

' You aren't going to grow 115 extra bones and a tail after nightfall.'

'A flight might do you good.'

'A nap will do me good. Bye!'

'Well, alright - are you coming, Sirius? Pete?'

Sirius snorted in derision and stalked off after Remus, but Pete (who looked like he would much rather head back into the castle and sit by the fire) gamely headed off with James towards the Quidditch pitch and withstood another two hours of flying.

Alone in their dorm, Remus lay down on his bed and Sirius climbed on next to him.

'Are you in a lot of pain?'

'No more than usual.'

'Always so stoic…Mind if I practise Aguamenti while you sleep?'

'Just don't make it rain.'

'Promise.'

And so Remus drifted off to sleep to the sounds of Sirius muttering his incantation, his grunts of frustration and the very occasional yelp of delight as he managed to produce a drop of water.

He was woken up a couple of hours later by the door banging open and James and Peter bursting in. 'You'd better not be practising water conjuring in here!' he heard James roar.

He pried an eye open just in time to see Sirius hastily stash his wand on the bedside table. ''Course not.'

'Hmmm.' James' eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'How are you feeling, Remus?' Peter asked, gratefully peeling off his hat, scarf and mittens and warming his hands over the stove. 'Are you up to coming down for some tea?'

'Yeah … yes, I can manage it. I'll go straight to the Hospital Wing from there.'

It was Toad in the Hole followed by sticky toffee pudding for tea and, as Remus was feeling a bit queasy by this point, Peter finished off his helpings as well as his own. Once they were done, Remus headed to the Infirmary and the others climbed the stairs back to Gryffindor Tower.

They passed nosy Bertha on the way, and she blinked at them from behind her thick glasses. 'Where's the other one gone? The sickly one?'

'Never you mind,' Sirius told her, giving her the finger.

…

Unfortunately for the boys, Bertha was not the only one who noticed that Remus was missing that evening. Professor Azimuth made no mention of the fact he was absent from their Astronomy lesson, of course, but Petra - who would have been working beside him - noticed the unused telescope. 'No Lupin?' she asked Peter, who was the closest to her.

Peter gave a small squeak and turned to James for help - not sure what to say.

'I'm not surprised he's not here,' Lily said, from across the tower. 'He's looked dreadful all day … I mean that in a caring way,' she added as an afterthought.

'He's just a bit under the weather,' James said. He smoothed the back of his hair down. 'So - Evans - do you like stargazing?'

'Why are you talking to me?'

James went red, mumbled something that might have been 'no reason,' and returned to his telescope. Lily returned to hers - but, further round the tower, Snape had witnessed the whole interaction. He frowned at James for a moment, as if trying to work something out… and then his eyes strayed to Remus's empty telescope, and he frowned some more.

The rest of the lesson passed without incident, Sirius did not feel the need to transfigure anyone into a chicken - pink or otherwise - and it was with great relief that they packed up their textbooks and rolled up their star charts, and made their way to bed once it reached one in the morning.

Sirius gave the full moon one last glance as he left the tower, wondering what Remus was getting up to right now - and how he was doing. He was becoming impatient with the lack of thunderstorms which would signal it was time for them to finish their transformations into animagi… he wasn't sure, but he thought he might be able to feel a second heartbeat when he performed his incantation now, and he just knew that if a thunderstorm would only come, then he could spend the next full moon with Moony.

'It made me shiver to look at it, hanging there all big and round and silver in the sky,' he heard Tulip Khan saying to Megan Lawson as they walked down the spiral stairs ahead of him. 'Thinking of all those monsters transforming beneath its rays.'

'Yes, I hope no one gets bit tonight - how awful.'

'I suppose it depends on whether the Dark Lord sends them out - his attack dogs.'

'Don't be soft!' Sirius interrupted them. They turned back to look at him, affronted, but he didn't let that stop him. 'Is there any proof - any at all - beyond Malidictus suggesting it, that the werewolves are working with Voldemort?'

The girls seemed to shudder at the mention of Voldemort's name, but they stared balefully back at Sirius. 'What would you know about anything, Black?' Megan said to him. 'You're a bystander .' She managed to make the word sound like an insult.

Then, the girls stuck their noses in the air and clattered down the stairs away from him. Sirius's lip curled in anger and he glowered after them. 'Stupid cows.'

…

Remus woke up the next morning, face down on the splintery floor and covered in scratches as usual. It was freezing in the shack and the cold made his already aching muscles hurt even more and, though he wanted nothing more than to slip back into the comforting black of unconsciousness, the nip in the air forced him up. He stumbled back upstairs, on the hunt for his robes.

He had just finished pulling them over his head when he heard Madam Pomfrey arrive, followed by the swishing and clicking as she used her wand to put right all the destruction he had caused last night. By the time he went back downstairs, the shack was looking quite homey again.

He was taken back to the Hospital Wing where he was given fresh pajamas and some Hippworth's Healing Tincture, followed by chocolate and a sleeping draught. Madam Pomfrey rubbed orange ointment on the worst of his cuts, and then he lay back on his pillow, hoping his friends would visit him soon with a copy of Sabrina13 .

…

The Great Hall seemed unusually quiet that morning as, instead of chatting and enjoying a leisurely weekend breakfast, almost every head was bent over this morning's edition of The Prophet, examining it closely. The sound of the pages rustling as they were turned was the only noise to be heard.

'What's going on?' Peter whispered as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table. 'Why is it so quiet?'

'Do you think there's been another death?' James asked.

An owl delivered Sirius's copy of the paper to him, and they put their heads together and pored over it, expecting another murder and the sighting of that awful mark to be front page news. But there was nothing (well - the headline was about poor Bugnug, the spokesgoblin framed for Mable Grable's murder - but there was nothing new).

'Nothing seems to have happened last night,' they heard Alice Law telling Callum Brown, a little further along the table.

'Not this month perhaps - but it's only a matter of time.'

'Do you really think so?'

'If that's what Malidictus says…'

Sirius frowned - and something clicked in his brain. ' Werewolf attacks ,' he hissed at his friends. 'That's what they're all looking for - werewolf attacks!'

'Has there been one?' Peter looked frightened.

''Course not, you idiot. It's just The League being paranoid.'

They finished their porridge and left the Hall ('Just because nothing happened this month doesn't mean it won't next time, we still need to write to the Minister', they heard Sunita Chopra say to Francis Yaleman as they passed the Ravenclaw table) and headed out into the packed entrance hall, to where Lily and her friends were handing out copies of Sabrina13 .

The boys joined the line, shuffling forward until they reached the front and swiped an edition of the magazine for themselves (and Remus). James frowned when he saw the lurid pink cover, with the words:

Wary of Werewolves?

5 Foolproof Ways to Spot Them in the Wild

Featured in a prominent position. 'Evans, what is this?' he asked.

'What does it look like? - a guide to recognising a werewolf.'

'But why is it in your girly magazine?'

She looked annoyed and drew herself up to her full height. 'We cover important stories in our "girly" magazine, you know.'

'Yes - I know. So… why this?' He indicated the words again. 'You tell people the truth, even when they don't want to hear it. But werewolves haven't done anything wrong. What are you playing at?'

Her cheeks took on a reddish tinge. 'It's only a matter of time,' she told him haughtily.

'Says who?'

'Professor Malidictus.'

'Him!' James snorted, and then shook his head sadly. 'I thought you were better than this, Evans.'

Lily flushed fully red now, and hurled a copy of Sabrina13 at his head. 'If you don't like it, don't read it.'

But James kept tight hold of his copy and walked away with the others, grumbling under his breath.

'Everyone's gone mental,' Sirius said. 'It's disgusting.'

'Are we going to take this up to Remus?' Peter asked, 'tell him what's going on?'

James and Sirius looked unsure for a moment. 'We can't hide it from him once he's up and about,' Sirius said at last. 'Forewarned is forearmed, I think we're better off preparing him for what's going on down here.'

They headed for the marble staircase, shoving Snape out of their way as they went, but - just as they were about to gain the first stair they were stopped by Bertha blocking their path. 'He's still missing,' she said, blinking at them owlishly.

'What? Who?'

'You're friend - he's missing. He wasn't around last night and he's not back yet. Where is he?'

'What's it to you?' Sirius asked belligerently.

'Oh - I think I'd like to know,' a sly voice cut into the conversation. The boys whipped around to find Snivellus behind them, the ghost of a gloating smile playing on his lips. 'He disappears a lot… every month or so, wouldn't you say? You can't blame a person for wondering where he goes.'

'Shut it, Sniv,' Sirius snarled.

Snape raised an eyebrow, and tutted. 'Alright - I'll just go read my magazine,' he brandished a copy of Sabrina13 - with its headline about werewolf identification on the cover. 'It's always been very illuminating in the past.'

Sirius raised his wand, but James grabbed his hand. 'Don't push it, come on,' and they barged their way past Bertha and thundered up the stairs.

'Why did you stop me?'

'We didn't want to draw attention to ourselves. That's what Snivellus wanted - to make a scene in front of everyone.'

'Do you think he knows?' Peter asked.

But James shook his head. 'Nah - if he knew, he'd tell everyone; greasy, foul git that he is. He was just trying to get a rise out of us.'

They made their way up to the Hospital Wing, where Remus was asleep, and sat down at his bedside waiting for him to wake up.

'I wonder how he'll take everyone talking about werewolves, when he wakes up?' Sirius wondered rather gloomily.

…

He was stoic about it, of course, and put a brave face on it in front of his friends and - once he was up and about - didn't even flinch when he heard the whispers of anti-werewolf rhetoric sweeping through the castle. He remained impassive when Lucian Riffkind announced he had written to the Minister demanding a mandatory rounding up of every werewolf each full moon; he didn't look up from his Transfiguration textbook when Belvedere Johnson told the common room that, in his opinion, anyone bitten by a werewolf should be swiftly dispatched by the Healers of St. Mungos before they even regained consciousness as it would "be a kindness" and, when Connie Bidwell stopped by the Gryffindor table to register her disappointment that Sirius was not writing to ask the Minister for harsher werewolf laws as 'his name gave him the clout to really get things done', Remus simply asked Peter to pass him the butter.

But late at night, when he was safely ensconced in his dorm, hidden behind his bed curtains, he couldn't keep up the act any longer. And, though they were getting bigger and it struck Remus that it was probably weird that they still did this at their age, he was always relieved and pleased when Sirius would cross the room and join him, once the others were asleep, so they could talk quietly together, snuggled under the bed covers.

'I'm trying not to let it get to me,' he whispered one night, while James and Peter snored. 'I keep telling myself it's not personal, that they don't know they're talking about me … but then I think, if they did know, they'd chase me from the castle - if I was lucky.'

'I know it's not the same, but it reminds me of last year - when everyone thought I was a nutter. You told me "bollocks to the lot of them".'

'I keep saying that to myself as well - "stay strong and bollocks to the lot of them".'

'It's not easy though.'

'No.'

'You're better than all of them, you know, Remus?' Sirius said, suddenly fierce. 'You're worth a thousand of everyone else in this whole stinking castle put together.'

'Thanks, Sirius,' Remus smiled, though he did not believe him.

…

And though a week passed, and the moon was waning, and the sky turned white and three feet of snow appeared overnight, the werewolf chatter did not seem to die down. All the books on werewolves had been checked out of the library, notes were swapped, rumours traded ('I heard that if a werewolf is in a room with a silver object their whole skin will blister painfully'... 'Well I heard that just saying the word "silver" to a werewolf will cause steam to pour out of their ears and make them scream in agony'... James peered into Remus's ears, when they overheard that, but no steam was pouring out) and - it seemed - a never ending stream of letters were written to Eugenia Jenkins, the Minister for Magic.

It was only a couple of weeks before the end of term, when the werewolf frenzy was finally interrupted by the morning edition of The Daily Prophet:

A Gigantic Disaster!

The headline screamed, followed by:

Mass Muggle Killing in Melton Mowbray, Giants to Blame

Muggle Authorities Investigating Earthquakes in the Area

Pork Pies Strewn as Far as the Eye Can See!

Once again, the Hall was in total silence - save for the rustling of page turning - as almost every student in the school (and all of the teachers) spent their breakfast reading the paper, and digesting this latest dreadful news.

There was an emergency meeting of The Anti-Darkness League called that evening and, once again, the boys planned to don the cloak and creep inside. They bumped into Hagrid, just as they were coming down the staircase - he looked sombre, like he was carrying a great weight on his shoulders. 'Alrigh', lads?' he said rather mournfully.

'Alright, Hagrid.'

'You boys goin' t' the meetin' then?'

'Er - we're not part of The League.'

Hagrid shook his head, 'Prob'ly for the best. I dunno, these are dark times we're livin' in, boys - giants killin' muggles… and I don' think that League are making anythin' better. Professor Malidictus is just winding them up.'

They stared at him in surprise, it was not like Hagrid to criticise a teacher in front of the students, but he didn't seem to notice and just stumped away - apparently still lost in his thoughts on giants. Unobserved by anyone, the boys pulled the cloak over their heads and headed into The Hall.

The mood inside was febrile and angry, murmurs between students sounding like the buzz of wasps. There was no idle chatter, it was all business, and they all wanted action.

Malidictus came in and - as he had done before - brandished the paper at the gathered students. 'Another killing!' he stated. 'A mass slaughter - 57 muggles dead, an entire street flattened and a bridge destroyed … at least the Ministry are admitting the giants are behind this, at least - this time - they are not trying to pin this disaster on the goblins. And even they - even they - cannot deny that this mass killing must be linked to the one earlier in the year, to the giant killings in Wales. And therefore they must acknowledge that there are sinister agents influencing the actions of dark creatures, and that the attacks we are seeing are not random.'

He stared around at everyone, his eyes flashing in the candlelight. 'The Kneazles, Mable Grable - the victims are people speaking out against The Dark Lord, or else calling for his investigation. The Muggleborns targeted during The Night of The Glass Shards, and finally the mass muggle killings in Wales and the East Midlands … this is the work of a group who openly stands against muggles and mugglesborns, who wish to overthrow the statute of secrecy and who will not allow themselves to be crossed. This is the work of The Knights of Walpurgis and, though they may use giants to warn of the futility of keeping our world a secret from muggles, they will not stop there! They have an army of dark creatures at their beck and call - and soon, those who cross them will find themselves being visited by the Dark Lord's pet werewolves!'

The boys glanced at each other, under the cloak.

Up on the dais, Malidictus leaned forward and lowered his voice to a hushed whisper, so everyone in the hall suddenly felt as if he were directly talking to them and them alone. 'This is how it will be: the Dark Lord will ask for your help, for your money, or perhaps for your expertise - or for the use of your possessions. And you will not wish to help, for you do not wish to align yourself with his views - and so you refuse. And he will threaten you in response, not with an unforgivable curse - or even a merciful death. But with a visit to your home, on the full moon, by the wolves… you and your family may even survive the experience - though you will wish you had not.'

Hidden beneath the cloak, Remus closed his eyes. He felt Sirius's hand snake into his own and squeeze it tightly.

'And faced with that threat, you will give the Dark Lord whatever he wants - anything, as long as he keeps his wolves from your door. And that is how it will play out up and down the land until no one dares stand against him, for his methods of revenge will be too brutal to risk. The giants will seem like child's play - the deaths of those muggles will seem a mercy compared to what will become of those wizards who oppose The Knights and their leader.'

Malidictus straightened up, and his voice rang out loud and clear once more - losing the intimacy and becoming commanding once again. 'And this is why we must write to the Minister and demand that she change the laws around werewolves. I wrote many of those laws myself, and I know now I was too lenient. An unforgivable curse used on a human will earn the perpetrator a lifetime sentence in Azkaban… but werewolves are not human. And yet - and yet I was sympathetic enough to write into law that the use of an unsanctioned unforgivable curse on a werewolf could still earn a prison sentence for the perpetrator. Not a lifetime - but perhaps as many as five years. I thought only of the spell and not of the reason for casting, and allowed my own aversion to dark magic to override my sensibilities of how to treat vicious animals. While there is no allowance for an unforgivable curse to be used on a human, even by the Ministry, the werewolf hunters are allowed to use them on beasts - if the need arises - without consequence. I now firmly believe that we must extend this law - so that everyone, whether sanctioned by the Ministry or not, can use an unforgivable curse on a werewolf and face no punishment.'

The sudden harsh buzz of a hundred different conversations broke out among the students, as they whispered to each other about this possibility. The boys' stayed silent, beneath their cloak, but looked at each other in dismay - and Sirius squeezed Remus's hand once again.

Remus's eyes roved around the room, landing on each group and trying to listen in to what they had to say - wondering if any of them would question this latest invective; whether they thought - perhaps - in this, at least, Malidictus had finally gone too far; whether there was any of his fellow students in The Hall - any at all - who would, without them even knowing they were doing it, stand up for him and his right to be recognised as a person and not a monster.

But it seemed he was doomed to be disappointed, as each huddle of students seemed to agree among themselves that they would write to the Minister immediately and demand she make the laws around unforgivable curses harsher for werewolves. ('They won't come knocking at the door if they know you can hit them straight with the cruciatus curse,' he heard Lucien Riffkind say.)

He did feel a brief moment of hope, when he spotted Lily standing not far away from him, her nose was wrinkled and she looked confused. 'Isn't it a bit strange that all those muggles were killed by giants and yet it's the werewolves Malidictus keeps talking about?' he heard her ask.

But his heart sank when he heard Petra's reply: 'I suppose all dark creatures are the same,' she said. 'Doesn't really matter what type we write to the Minister about, as long as we take action against them.'

'Perhaps you're right,' Lily said. 'What matters is those poor dead muggles, and making sure it can never happen again.'

…

Remus tried his hardest to pretend that he wasn't hurt, that he didn't feel sick all the time, and that being surrounded by people who hated him and were actively trying to make his life more difficult - even if they didn't know it - didn't make his chest hurt. His friends did their best to cheer him up - they bunked off History of Magic and went sledging instead, and they sneaked down to the kitchens and snaffled themselves the most delicious morsels (as Christmas crept up on them, the smells of the house elves' cooking permeated further and further into the castle, until all the corridors hung heavy with the mouthwatering scents of melted sugar, ginger and cloves, and the boys were very glad they knew where the kitchens were so they could help themselves).

They watched Flitwick decorate the Christmas trees with live fairies, instead of getting to Potions on time, and Sirius chased away any Gryffindors sitting beside the fire, so the two of them could do the crossword in the best spot in the common room.

He smiled as much as he could, but - despite his friends' best efforts - he was still feeling the strain, and - sometimes - sitting in Defence and listening to Malidictus lecture on, while everyone else listened in rapt attention, was more than he could bear.

The last weekend of term was to be a Hogsmeade weekend, and everyone was in a state of high excitement at the thought of getting a chance to leave the castle for a change. 'What do you reckon - are you going to use the secret passage?' James asked Sirius, when the boys were up in their dorm (Walburga had refused to sign Sirius's permission form, and so he could only visit the village by sneaking out through a secret passage he had found behind a mirror on the fourth floor - and using it was always a risky prospect as the path was a long and difficult one, which meant Sirius had to set out early, get back late and risk bumping into McGonagall in the middle).

'Won't it be dangerous getting down the mountainside in the snow?' Peter asked.

Sirius shrugged. 'I've done it before … but I can't anyway. Flitwick has given me even more reading to do,' (Sirius had still not mastered 'Aguamenti ') 'and if I've not done it when I should have had a quiet afternoon to myself, he'll get suspicious. I'd better stay behind.'

'Oh come on - don't be like that!' James protested. But Sirius stood firm. He had never failed to master a spell before and was both worried and embarrassed by the whole matter. So, on Saturday, Remus, James and Peter tied on their scarves and put on their mittens and headed out into the snow, while Sirius stayed alone in the dorm with his Charms textbook.

It was bitterly cold outside, slippy underfoot, and their breath came out in little puffs of steam. 'Why did we think this was a good idea?' Peter asked, as he wobbled his way down the drive. 'Maybe we should go back…'

'Nah - we've not had a Hogsmeade weekend in ages, Madam Rosmerta will be getting lonely without us.'

Pete perked up at the thought of Rosmerta, and didn't complain again until they reached The Three Broomsticks. Once they got there, however, it was so heaving with other students that they had trouble finding a table, and it was as warm inside as it had been cold out.

'It's like an oven,' Pete said, pulling off his woolly hat and using it to mop at his red and sweaty face. 'I want to go back out and dive in the snow.'

'You're never happy! Come on - I'll get the drinks.'

'You mean you'll flirt with Rosmerta!'

'So come with me - Remus, keep the table, don't let anyone swipe a chair,' and with that, James and Peter disappeared into the crowd, and Remus sat alone in the packed pub and tried not to think about how much everyone in there hated him. This feat was made rather more difficult than it should be (he was, after all, getting quite used to not thinking about how much people hated him) by the fact that Bertha, the nosy seventh year, was sitting by the fire with her friends - and had just spotted him.

He cursed under his breath as she got up and headed over to him.

'Why are you all alone?' she asked him, without preamble.

'My friends are at the bar - I'm saving their seats. It's very busy today, you don't want to lose your own chair.'

She turned to glance at her empty chair, as if to check it had not been stolen already, but chose to stay and interrogate Remus some more. Remus sighed.

'Why won't you and your friends join The League?'

'Because we don't want to. I wasn't aware it was mandatory.'

'Do you stand for the Dark Lord?'

'Of course not. My mother was a muggle. I've had family killed by the giants.'

'So why won't you join The League?'

He lost patience. 'Because it's not a league, it's a cult,' he snapped - and then wished he hadn't spoken,

'What in Merlin's name do you mean by that?'

'I - er - nothing. Forget it. We're not in The League, we're not joining The League - and that's that.' He was rescued from further conversation by James returning with the Butterbeers and elbowing Bertha out of the way with a cheerful ''scuse me.'

Bertha tutted and blinked down at the three of them. 'It just seems very cowardly for Gryffindors to refuse to take a stand,' she said.

'We are taking a stand - we're just doing it in a different way to you,' Remus told her. '...I think someone has taken your seat.'

She turned to look, tutted again and charged off to claim her chair back. Remus gave her the finger as she left.

'What did she want?' James asked.

'Nothing - just snooping around, being her irritating self.'

'Well - Happy Christmas!' James raised his bottle of butterbeer in a toast, they all clinked and took a swig. But after they were done, they agreed it was too hot and stuffy for another drink, and decided to wrap back up and head back to school and Sirius.

They were greeted by him as soon as they entered the common room, he ran towards them in a state of high excitement. 'I've done it - I've done it. I've finally got the hang of it - watch!' He brandished his wand and bellowed 'Aguamenti!'

There was a brief pause - and then a great, gushing geyser of water exploded from the tip of his wand, crashed over James in a tidal wave and washed him clean out of the portrait hole. He lay in a puddle on the floor of the corridor outside, gasping and blinking. 'See?' he heard Sirius say from somewhere above him. He looked up and saw Sirius framed by the portrait hole and grinning down at him proudly. 'I told you I could do it.'

…

He eagerly showed Flitwick his progress in the last Charms lesson of the term (once the tiny professor had regained his feet and dried himself off, he congratulated Sirius on his success and suggested that he work on controlling the quantity of water produced next).

As always, the last Charms lesson before Christmas was a riotous affair of fun, and the students were free to practise the various charms they had learned so far at will. Sirius had a very enjoyable 45 minutes knocking everyone over with 'Aguamenti' (the only person he bowled over more times than James was Snivellus) while Peter used the summoning charm to nick things out of the Slytherins pockets.

Over by the window Muriel Gimlet and Zinnia Irving were practising the banishing charm, and once again were not having a whole lot of success with their aim (though it might have been easier for them had Sirius not kept sporadically knocking them over with a geyser of water). After banishing desks, chairs, textbooks and James' pet puffskein, FLP, across the classroom, Zinnia flourished her wand, cried 'Depulso' and sent Muriel hurtling across the room. Muriel crashed headfirst into the blackboard and slumped to the floor unconscious.

'Never mind!' Flitwick called to the anxious looking Zinnia, 'Madam Pomfrey will patch her straight up.' He pointed his wand at Muriel, muttered 'Wingardium leviosa,' so that she hovered and then ' mobilicorpus' so she started to float away.

Sitting at his desk, Snivellus seemed to go suddenly very still, his eyes narrowed and he watched Flitwick with apparent rapt interest and then pulled out a parchment and quill, scribbled something down and shoved the parchment in his pocket.

'What's Snivelly up to?' James asked.

Peter shrugged, whispered 'Accio,' and summoned the parchment out of Sniv's pocket and over to them. The four of them bent their heads over it to see what had captured his attention - but it proved only to be the two spells that Flitwick had just used on Muriel.

'What's he written those down for?' Remus asked. But none of them could come up with an idea, so Sirius scrunched the parchment into a ball and threw it at Snape's head.

They played a Quidditch match in flying that afternoon and - with Astronomy cancelled that evening, as it was the last night of term - they got an early finish and went back to their dorm to pack. They played gobstones in the common room until tea and sang carols after pudding, and everyone went to bed looking forward to the start of the holidays.

…

But once the others were asleep, and Sirius had crept into Remus's bed for a chat, Remus admitted to him how hard he was finding it to keep on smiling. 'It's just like there's a black cloud over me, all the time, and I can't shake it and I have to pretend it's not there, for James and Pete… and so that nobody else notices.' He sighed. 'And I suppose I'm just beginning to realise that this really is my life, this is what it will always be.'

'Nah, it won't,' Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus's shoulders and squeezed him. 'What do I keep telling you? I will always look after you.'

Remus smiled in spite of himself, and shook his head. 'I don't want to be a burden.'

'You're not a burden, you nutter! You're Moony.'

'Your wife won't see it that way.'

'Don't have a wife.'

'Your future wife.'

'And I've told you, as many times as I've told you I'll always take care of you, that I will never have a wife. I know I won't. I don't want one - and that won't change. James can get married if he likes - and Pete. But it'll always be me and you, yeah?'

Remus bit his lip, and tried to ignore the way his stomach had just lurched. 'It will just be a relief to go home for a little bit,' he said, trying to change the subject.

Sirius gave a dark laugh, 'for you, perhaps.'

'Oh - right. Sorry. I'm being selfish - making it all about me when you have to go home tomorrow.'

'Don't be soft!' He squeezed Remus tighter. 'It should be all about you. It's your life being ruined. I only have to put up with my awful family for two weeks… then you have to come back here. It's an escape for me… not for you.'

'You shouldn't have to feel the need to escape your family, though.'

'Well I feel it more than ever this time - it's the wedding; they'll all be there en masse. Every single horror I'm even a little bit related to…'

'All your cousins who are also your aunties because you're so inbred…'

They snorted, and shoulder barged each other.

'Arguing over why it's my mum that gets to keep the family silver.'

'I still can't believe all your plates and cups and stuff are pure silver.'

'With the family crest stamped on them.'

'It's so … extravagant.'

'It's that a polite way of saying wasteful?'

'Yes … and gauche too. It's gauche.'

'My mother would have a fit of the vapours if she heard you call her gauche… tell you what, I'll bring you back a cup or something to show you just how tacky and tasteless we really are. like a really gaudy present.'

Remus gasped,'that reminds me,' and he scrambled off the bed and rooted underneath it until he brought out something large and boxy that had been carefully wrapped in shiny, Christmas paper. 'I need to give this to you now - you can't open it at home. It's far too mugglish.'

Sirius's eyes lit up and he ripped off the wrapping paper and pulled out the present, looking in wonder at the plastic and the alarm clock and the kettle. 'It's beautiful,' he breathed, his eyes wide and round. 'What is it?'

Remus smiled. 'It's called a Teasmade. It was my Grandma's. It made her a cup of tea every morning, all by itself.'

Sirius goggled at the Teasmade. 'That's… That's magic!'

'Well, muggle magic anyway. It works on electric. But I think you can enchant it, and keep it with your toaster. Though my Uncle Owain says it makes a rubbish cup of tea.'

'It will make the best tea ever,' he hugged his present. 'Thanks Remus, day dreaming about taking this apart is really going to keep me sane over the next two weeks.'

Remus smiled at him fondly. 'You are a nutter,' he said.