Chapter Five: The First Week

The very next morning, Remus began to discover just how very complicated life at a wizarding boarding school could be. The first year boys were woken up by the sound of the older students getting up and, after dressing hurriedly, were able to follow their fellow Gryffindors back down to the Great Hall.

This was something of a relief - because Remus found himself walking along corridors and going down staircases that he had no recollection of from the previous evening. There were twists and turns, and hallways concealed by tapestries - and he was quite sure that, had he been forced to make this journey alone, he would have remained lost inside the castle forever.

And it was more than just the sheer size of Hogwarts that was confusing. Everything about the castle seemed designed especially to trick and bamboozle an unwitting student. Take the staircases for example. There were a hundred and forty two staircases in total. Some were grand and sweeping, some were narrow and rickety, some wound up inside the towers in magnificent spirals that left you dizzy. And one was a wooden ladder that led up to the highest part of the owlery.

But then there were also staircases which had vanishing steps halfway up. You had to remember to jump it - or else your leg would get stuck inside and you would have to wait for someone to come along and haul you out. And then there were the staircases that moved. Some did so ostentatiously - swinging across the castle and then coming to rest on a different landing. It was tiresome if you were on the stairs at the time - but at least you had an idea of where you needed to head back to. Others, however, simply led somewhere else on a Friday. Up the stairs you would bound, bursting through the first door on the left, confidently expecting to find the boys' bathroom that had been there all week only to find - boom - the Charms classroom, filled with giggling NEWT students.

And the rest of the fixtures and fittings seemed desperate to get in on the act, too. The doors were a particularly ornery bunch; only opening if you asked politely, or tickled them in the right spot, or tapped a secret code onto them with your magic wand. Plus a couple of doors weren't doors at all - just solid walls pretending. The people in the portraits moved around too - flitting from picture to picture in order to visit friends - and, he wasn't sure, but Remus thought that the suits of armour might be able to walk. There was just no way to navigate by your ever-changing surroundings. The place was a maze - a labyrinth - a seemingly impossible collection of pathways and passages that actively delighted in reshaping and reforming itself around the unwary and unsuspecting.

So - it came as a great relief to the first year students that they were at least able to start their day by following the older Gryffindors. For the rest of the day, however, they were not so lucky...

...

That first morning, Remus trooped into the Great Hall with Peter, James and Sirius. They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to bowls of porridge. 'Did you sleep alright, Sirius?' James asked, as he spooned golden syrup onto his oats. 'Beds are comfy, don't you think?'

'Yeah … I slept… OK.' The handsome little boy looked pale and wan, though - and Remus wasn't entirely convinced he was telling the truth. Remus, himself, had slept deeply - but did not feel rested. It was always this way, as the full moon approached. He was tired out - and could fall asleep at a moment's notice - but he would wake up just as exhausted as before.

He glanced up towards the enchanted ceiling. Although the sun was now out - it was still possible to make out the very faint silver disc of the moon. He shuddered. It would be better once it was over. He'd feel better … for a couple of weeks, before it all started again.

'Well I slept like a log,' Peter said to the other boys, 'but I had weird dreams all night.'

'It was probably all the trifle you stuffed yourself with,' James told him. 'Next time don't pig out so much so close to bedtime.'

Peter flushed, and went back to eating his porridge, quietly. Remus frowned - James was one to talk - it wasn't Peter adding extra sugar to his morning cup of tea, and ladles of syrup to his cereal.

A sudden hooting and flapping of wings announced the arrival of the morning post. Further along the table, Remus heard Lily exclaim with shock - as she saw dozens of owls swooping into the hall and dropping letters (and feathers) onto the tables. Across the hall, other first year muggleborns were reacting with equal surprise; staring upwards, their mouths gaping open. But those familiar with the wizarding world, and the older students and teachers, all continued to eat as if nothing untoward had happened.

'Is this sanitary ?' he heard Lily hiss, as she attempted to cover her bowl with her arms, in order to protect it from falling feathers. But no one around her seemed bothered. She continued to look unsure - and seemed mightily relieved when the owls had delivered their letters and swooped off.

Sirius was looking relieved too. He seemed to perk up a bit, once the post had arrived - and Remus wasn't sure why… And then one final owl arrived late. It was a very fine, very large, very elegant looking eagle owl - with glossy plumage and a green collar around its neck. It flew in, circled the Gryffindor table a few times, and then dropped a bright red envelope right in front of Sirius. The boy went pale and gulped.

James stared at it too - 'is that…?' he began to ask. Sirius nodded - he looked around in panic - as if searching for an escape. The red envelope began to smoulder. 'I think you better open it, mate,' James said to him, 'just get it over with.' But just as the young boy reached out - the whole letter burst into flames - and then a magically enhanced voice roared out - ripping through the air and making everyone fall quiet. Heads turned, as students looked to see who had been sent the howler. Sirius tried to sink so low in his seat that only his forehead was visible above the table. His forehead was now as bright crimson as the envelope.

'GRYFFINDOR?' the voice screamed at Sirius. 'NEVER - IN ALL MY YEARS HAS A BLACK BEEN PUT IN GRYFFINDOR! A HOUSE OF UNWORTHY MUDBLOODS, MUGGLE LOVERS AND LOW BRED NOBODIES! THAT IS WHO YOU ASSOCIATE WITH? THAT IS WHERE YOU THINK YOU FIT IN? AMONG THE BLOOD TRAITORS AND THE MUGGLES? YOU ARE NOT WORTHY TO BEAR THE NAME "BLACK". I ALWAYS KNEW THAT MY ELDEST SON - MY CRETINOUS BOYCHILD - WAS A DISAPPOINTMENT. BUT GRYFFINDOR? THIS IS THE FIRST STEP - ONE FOOT WRONG - ONE MUDBLOOD FRIEND - AND YOUR NAME WILL BE BLASTED OFF THE FAMILY TREE. NEVER - NEVER DID I THINK IT WOULD COME TO THIS!'

Then the voice died away, and the flames dampened down. A stunned silence hung over the hall - and then there was an uneasy laugh - and the chatting started back up, heads turned away and the students got back on with their breakfast. After another minute or so - once he was sure all the attention had left him - Sirius wriggled back up, so he was sitting properly at the table.

'Was that your mum?' James asked him. Sirius nodded, he looked miserable. 'Well she sounds nice,' James said - and his friend began to smile. He picked his spoon back up and began to eat his porridge, once more - but Remus noticed that he kept casting awkward glances to the table second from the right - the Slytherin table.

Remus looked over - and saw a group of tall Slytherins all huddled together having a hushed conversation. Like Sirius, they were casting glances across the room - their looks directed to the Gryffindors. He looked back at Sirius, a question in his eyes. 'My cousins,' Sirius said to him - Remus hadn't even spoken, but somehow the boy just knew what he was thinking - 'and my second cousins … we're an old pureblood family - there are a lot of cousins.'

'One of them told your mother?' Remus said.

Sirius nodded. 'My being in Gryffindor is a pretty big deal. And not in a good way.'

'You know - I would never have guessed that. Your mother's letter was so warm and congratulatory,' James said.

Sirius smiled again. 'For my mum - that was warm.'

'Well - at least she's got it out of her system now,' James said.

But Sirius did not look convinced. 'She'll still be waiting to wallop me with her broomstick when I go home for Christmas.'

'Well - you've got a couple of months - maybe you'll have learned to transfigure her into a frog by that time.'

'We do not use transfiguration on parents and authority figures, Potter,' a sharp voice barked out. James turned around in alarm, Professor McGonagall was standing right behind him.

'It was a joke!'

'Hmm' - her lips went white and thin. Then she turned to Sirius, 'Black, I would like you to come and see me in my office at break time.' Sirius looked alarmed at the prospect, but he nodded his head. She then thrust a piece of paper into his hands, he glanced down at it - just as she thrust another one towards James. 'First year timetables - your first lesson is Herbology - out in the greenhouses, so I suggest you hurry up and get out there.' She then walked off down the table handing out more timetables to the Gryffindor students.

James raised his eyebrows at Sirius, 'blimey - you're already in trouble at home and at school? A howler and a trip to the head of house's office on your first morning? They'll have sent you to Azkaban before you start second year.'

'Why does she want to see me?' Sirius asked, picking up his bag and making his way out of the hall. 'I get why my mum is mad - but what's McGonagall's beef with me?'

Remus followed on behind, more slowly - he suspected that the other boy wasn't in trouble at all, and his interview with the head of house at break time was purely to check he was OK after receiving such a horrible howler his first morning at school…

...

Lessons proved to be just as impossible as the castle itself. Herbology took place out in the greenhouses and Professor Sprout - a dumpy witch with flyaway hair, patches on her hat, and dirt under her nails - started by giving them all a lecture. 'Right chaps,' she said, squinting at the assembled Gryffindors - and the Hufflepuffs they shared the lessons with - 'listen up. There are some very dangerous plants in this greenhouse - nasty venoms, plants with stingers, plants with suckers, plants with tentacles - that's ten tacles, Potter.' She shot the boy an annoyed glance, as he giggled.

Remus rolled his eyes.

'No one must touch a plant unless specifically instructed to do so,' she continued, 'and instructions must be followed precisely. There are plants in this world that can kill you stone dead, in a second, if you handle them wrong - and we will be handling them. I hate having to send children up to the Infirmary during a lesson - I would especially hate to have to send anyone to the morgue. Now - today we will be looking into the proper care of shrivelfigs - open your textbooks to page 14, please...'

...

Charms was taught up on the third floor of the castle, by Professor Flitwick - a teacher so small he had to stand on a stool to see over his desk. He started the class off by taking a register - and then proceeded to produce a flow of wine from his wand - telling them that they would be learning such things over the course of the next five years. 'But - of course - we must start small - simple wand work,' he said … and began to talk them through the various movements that they could perform with their wand - and what the results should be. By the end of the lesson they had swished and flicked and twirled and jabbed their wands, until their arms were exhausted, and the tiny teacher was beaming.

'Excellent excellent,' he said, 'next lesson we will look at casting our very first, simple Charm … changing the colours on cushions. So for homework - I want you to read page 251 of your textbook, and come to the classroom next time armed with the knowledge of what wand work and incantation you will need.' There was a sudden kerfuffle as the first years dug in their bags to bring out their homework planners and quills and dutifully record their assigned task. Then the bell rang and they filed out.

...

Potions was far less enjoyable, Remus thought. The Potions master - Professor Slughorn - was the giant, walrus moustached man who had tried to bet on Sirius becoming a Slytherin. He was jovial, and had a deep booming voice - but Remus couldn't help but notice that he paid far more attention to some students than others. Indeed some of the students - Remus included - were all but ignored.

He set them the task of mixing a simple potion to cure boils. Remus paired with Peter - and they worked studiously at the back; weighing dried nettles and crushing snake fangs.

Next to them, Sirius and James had partnered together - naturally - but they were being far less studious; messing around - splashing each other and chucking nettles around. Remus sighed - did they never just give it a break?

Professor Slughorn didn't seem to mind too much, though. He beamed at the pair of them - as they horsed around. 'Now now boys,' he said, 'you can get in a nasty accident in the Potions classroom if you're not careful.' He wagged a pudgy finger, 'and I know your mother wouldn't thank me if I allowed anything to happen to the Black family heir.' Sirius did not look convinced.

'And you, my boy!' Slughorn boomed at James. 'How is your father? I imagine Potions runs in your blood, boy? The Sleekeazy Hair Potion didn't invent itself, now did it?' He chuckled ruefully, 'not of course that i have much need for it these days. But still - I know your father, good man, good man.'

He beamed at them both again, ignored Remus and Peter, and then swept off to talk to Gaius Avery - one of the Slytherins - once again asking about the boy's father.

At the end of the lesson he went round each cauldron inspecting their potions. Remus and Peter had worked hard, and followed the instructions carefully. But nevertheless their mixture more closely resembled a weak soup than a magic potion. Professor Slughorn ladled up a spoonful and allowed it to splash back into their pewter cauldron. He wrinkled his nose. 'I've seen worse,' he sniffed, before heading onto Sirius and James- his massive grin in place, once more. 'And what do you two boys have for me?'

He peered into the cauldron and then burst out laughing. 'It's purple!' he announced. He chortled, wheezily, 'I suppose you added the eye of newt before the dash of lemon juice?'

'We were meant to add lemon juice?'

Remus rolled his eyes - the recipe was right up there on the board! What was the point of wearing glasses that thick if you weren't even going to read what was right in front of you? But Slughorn wasn't annoyed. 'You're a rascal!' he said, wagging his finger at the pair of them,'you'll go far.' He spooned up some of the potion, 'and the consistency is good,' he admitted, 'better than others...' He glanced back at Remus and Peter. The two boys looked at each other in annoyance.

And then the professor bustled back up to the front, where he investigated the potion mixed by Lily and Severus. 'Well well well,' he boomed - his eyebrows shooting to the top of his head, 'what do we have here? … 'pon my word, this is the best I've ever seen. What are your names?'

'Lily Evans,' Lily said, looking embarrassed.

'Severus Snape,' Severus looked very pleased with himself.

'Evans and Snape - eh? A pair of natural potion makers. Well ten points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin. Evans … Evans … Evans … You're not related to the Pembrokeshire Evans' - Rhodri, Myfanwy, Dafydd - inventor of Everlasting Unbreakable Elastic?'

'Er - I don't think so,' Lily said. 'I'm not Welsh.'

'Still … still … must be from good wizarding stock - talent like this.'

Lily opened her mouth - presumably to correct him - but she stopped when Severus kicked her ankle. She closed her mouth, and frowned at her friend. The bell rang and they all began to leave. 'Why did you stop me from telling him I'm muggle born?' Remus heard Lily ask, as they walked out.

'Slughorn thinks - lots of people think - that it's important that your family is magic,' Severus said to her. 'He thinks you're a good witch - you don't want to prejudice him against you.'

But Lily sniffed and sounded dismissive, 'well - if he's going to give me bad marks because he doesn't like my muggle family then I don't really care what he thinks,' and she walked off with the Gryffindor girls, her nose in the air. Severus looked seriously put out.

'I don't think I like Potions much,' Remus said to Peter, as they made their way back up the stairs, 'and I don't think Professor Slughorn likes us.'

...

Professor McGonagall, their own head of house - and Transfiguration teacher, was much more strict than Slughorn had been - but also much more fair. Like Professor Sprout, she began the class by outlining her expectations - and then set them to work trying to turn matches into needles. At the end of the hour, Remus was exhausted - but his matches remained resolutely wooden. He thought … if he squinted … they might be a bit more pointy, though.

Sirius and James had messed around through this entire lesson, as well, losing several points for Gryffindor in the process - but at the end their matches were a definite shade of silver. Remus wondered how they managed it.

The only person who had done better was Lily, again - and she had worked much harder. But her matches were now a handful of pointed silver sticks. 'Another lesson and you'll have got the eyes in there, Miss Evans,' McGonagall sniffed approvingly, 'ten points to Gryffindor - well done.'

It still didn't make up for all the points Sirius and James had lost, though.

...

The lessons were exhausting and difficult, the castle was a nightmare to navigate - and the homework was piling up night on night. Sirius and James remained utter pains in the neck - constantly pranking each other as well as Remus and Peter. Peter would laugh along, and pretend he didn't mind… but the ever fattening moon was making Remus weary. He just didn't have the patience for their silliness. He just didn't find them funny. And that only made them target him harder.

They hid his quill. They hid his potions book. They hid his underwear. They trapped Mary McDonald's cat under his bed clothes, so that when he pulled back his covers it sprang out at him with a yowl - making him jump. One night he even woke up to find his left hand soaking in a bowl of warm water - and the two boys watching him expectantly. He had no idea what that was about…

He began to hide out in the library on an evening, in an attempt to avoid them for as long as possible. But then he just found that he was worrying what they would have waiting for him when he eventually went back. All in all - Hogwarts was not turning out the way he had hoped.

It wasn't until the Friday - when the Gryffindors had Defence Against the Dark Arts for the first time - that Remus truly felt that he was enjoying himself, or that maybe he was in the right place, after all.

Their teacher was a slight and slender, elderly witch named Professor Tenebris and though she looked stern and forbidding at first - it soon turned out that she had a warm smile - and a hearty sense of humour. She certainly didn't seem to let the seriousness of her subject get in the way of having a good time.

'The Dark Arts are ever changing, ever mutating - an almost living entity that no matter how hard you fight it, always develops new fronts. A many-headed hydra of evil.' Her eyes twinkled, 'and who can tell me what happens when you cut a hydra's head off?'

Lily's hand shot straight in the air, 'another two grow back.'

'Exactly, and can you tell me how to stop the heads growing back?'

Lily looked a bit more uncertain, 'Er - in the story he burned the stumps.'

'Cauterise the wound,' Professor Tenebris smiled, 'wonderful - and that is what I will be teaching you here, how to cauterise the wounds that may be inflicted upon you by your dark enemies.' She threw back her head and laughed, 'not that many dark enemies line themselves up against eleven year olds! Still … it never hurts to prepare young.'

'Have you ever fought any Dark Arts, Miss?' James piped up from the back.

She looked at him, her expression stern - but her lips still twitching, as if she was fighting back a smile. 'Young man, in my youth I was a Vampire Hunter for the Ministry of Magic.'

'Wow.'

'Cool.'

Expressions of admiration broke out amongst the first years, and the witch threw her head back and laughed again. 'I wasn't always the withered old hag you see in front of you,' she chuckled, self deprecatingly. 'I used to stride through the wild forests of Europe, a string of garlic around my neck and a sharpened stake in my hand … of course the garlic attracted more Frenchmen than vampires…' She chuckled again, 'and I'd tell you those stories, too, but,' she coughed, 'you're a little young, perhaps. So - to business.'

She instructed them to open their textbooks to page 117. The page was about doxies - small, fairy like creatures with two sets of wings, and bodies entirely covered in thick, black hair. 'We're not quite ready for vampires,' she said, apologetically, 'but we must start somewhere.'

She began to tell them all about the doxies - how they like to hide in soft furnishings - and then fly out and attack any unsuspected human that attempted to sit on the sofa or open the curtains. 'See their sharp teeth?' she asked - pointing to the diagram, 'doxie venom is not deadly - but it is irritating. You will feel nauseous and dizzy for up to five hours after a doxie bite. Best to get rid of the little blighters before they get the chance to bite you. Now - in the event of attack - and I use the word "attack" loosely... A doxie flying at you is hardly the same thing as getting pinned down by a horde of inferi in the Carpathian mountains…'

'Did you once…?' James interrupted again,sounding breathless.

'Hmmhmm,' she made a noise of assent, nodding her head. The first years looked impressed again. 'But, as I was saying. Should a doxie fly at you - like an overgrown and angry bumblebee - a simple incantation should be enough to stop it.' She took out her wand. 'Now - repeat after me - " Immobulus" .'

They all dutifully repeated the word. 'Good,' she smiled, 'now practice this movement.' She waved her wand so it was circling clockwise. 'And say the incantation along with the movement.' They all tried it. A small blast of white sparks came out of Remus's wand. Professor Tenebris raised an eyebrow, and looked impressed. 'Excellent, excellent - Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a natural born doxie stopper in the class. Perhaps - young man, you would care to come up to the front and indulge us in a practical demonstration?'

Feeling nervous, Remus slid down from his stool and went up to the front of the room - he could feel the eyes of the class on him - and was reminded of that horrid moment just before being sorted. 'Now,' the professor smiled, she checked her seating plan, 'Mr. Lupin is it?' He nodded. 'Well, I have, in here, one freshly caught doxie.' She held up what looked like a lantern - but instead of a candle inside, there was a small winged creature, buzzing furiously. 'On the count of three, I am going to release the doxie - and it will, hopefully,' she paused to chuckle again, ' hopefully - fly straight at you. I want you to say the incantation - and wave your wand - and that should freeze it mid air, understand?'

Remus nodded.

'Nervous?' she smiled. He nodded again. Her smile became wider, 'quite understandable. I remember my first night out for the Ministry, staking out a castle in Tralee, where we believed a group of vampires were nesting. Well, I'd never so much as seen a vampire in the flesh, never mind captured or killed one - you can imagine how my hands were shaking, my heart was pounding … Still we all learn to fight the Dark Arts somewhere - and this is your starting point. Nerves are a good thing. Use them. They keep you sharp. Are you ready?'

He swallowed - and then nodded again. It wasn't really the doxie, so much as his audience, that was bothering him. On the count of three, the professor tore open the door on the glass lantern - and the doxie came buzzing out - flying straight for Remus's face. He stuck his wand out, waved it in a circle and shouted ' Immobulus,' at the top of his voice. The white sparks shot from his wand, again, and hit the doxie full in the face. It froze in midair and then dropped to the ground, like a stone. Professor Tenebris began to applaud, and the girls and Peter joined in. Sirius and James exchanged a dark look between themselves.

'Excellent, excellent,' the professor was saying, 'in all my years teaching, I've never seen a student do so well first time out. You may be one to watch, my boy - you may have an affinity for fighting the Dark Arts.' Remus blushed. The two boys at the back exchanged another dark look - there was a hint of jealousy in it too. 'Twenty points to Gryffindor - most deserved,' she continued. Then she spoke to the rest of the class, 'now the rest of you - your homework for the weekend is to practice that incantation until, like Remus, you are producing the white sparks. And I'll know if you've practised - because you're all fighting doxies next lesson.'

Then she smiled at Remus, himself. 'You, of course, having already mastered the spell, may have the weekend off from homework.' A sudden crease appeared between her eyes, and her smile became sad, 'which is probably a blessing in your circumstances.'

Remus felt his stomach turn to lead - and raised his eyebrows in alarm. He glanced at his classmates to see if they had picked up on the teacher's strange words. But they were all too busy writing down their assignment. He went back to his desk - packed up his bag and, when the bell rang, went down to the great hall for tea.

...

Late that night, he lay in his bed - the curtains pulled tight around him, to hide his scars from the other boys, and himself from the moonlight. He was glad it was the weekend tomorrow - he was glad he would get a lie in, and a break from lessons. He was exhausted, and his bones were aching and he was beginning to feel the chills that always crept up on him once a month. The rest would be greatly appreciated. But it wasn't all sunshine on the horizon. The full moon was the night after tomorrow...