Chapter Ten: Christmas

As December progressed, the castle got colder and colder - and students took to wearing earmuffs and mittens in the corridors, while Madam Pomfrey had her work cut out dealing with an epidemic of chilblains.

Remus, however, was finding Hogwarts to be much more fun now he was proper friends with James and Sirius. They still pranked him relentlessly - but he pranked them back, and it wasn't always those two against him; sometimes James or Sirius would team up with him to get the other … And sometimes all three of them would gang up and get someone totally unsuspecting.

They also spent time researching hexes, as they were determined to be able to take on whichever Slytherin it was that was using real curses on them on an equal footing. 'I'm pretty sure it's Snivellus,' Remus told the others. 'I think it was him that cut off that statue's hand - he looked very pleased with himself when it happened.'

'Greasy, big nosed, slimeball,' James snorted. 'We'll get him.'

Every time she saw him with the two of them - looking up jinxes for Slytherins - Lily would sniff and stick her nose in the air. She was far less friendly with him now he was more friendly with the other boys - but that seemed like a very small price to pay to Remus. For the first time ever he felt like he truly belonged somewhere, and he wouldn't give up that feeling for the world.

As the year drew to a close, a feeling of festivity weaved its way around the castle. The corridors were suddenly rich with the smells of the most delicious cooking coming from the kitchens and twelve Christmas trees, decorated with everything from enchanted golden bubbles to real fairies, lined the Great Hall. Holly and ivy were placed out as table decorations and …'What's that?' Sirius asked, frowning upwards, one morning, at the plant hung over his head above the breakfast table.

'Mistletoe,' Remus told him, also glancing up. Then they looked to the side, where Alice the prefect was snogging her boyfriend, Frank, and both buried their fists into their mouths to stifle their snorts of laughter.

Classes became more chaotic - or at least some of them did. Flitwick just let them play games in the last lesson before the end of term, and Slughorn allowed them to bung whatever ingredients they wanted into their cauldrons and brew potions of their own devising.

'I bet Big Macca won't do anything like that, though,' James said glumly, as they headed to Transfiguration. And sure enough, McGonagall kept them nose to the grindstone studying Switching Spells until the very last minute. The three boys still weren't looking her in the eye - though every time they did dare a glance her way, her lips always looked alarmingly white and thin.

And then - suddenly - there was an end of term feast; Dumbledore led the whole school in a rousing chorus of Christmas Carols (some of the teacher's looked less than impressed about that - Big Macca's lips were very thin again … though that might just be because she had made eye contact with Remus and was remembering his ... He blushed and couldn't get to the end of his own thought); the trunks were packed ready for the holidays and the Hogwarts Express was due to leave the very next day.

Remus sat up in bed late that night, his curtains drawn around him, reading text books by the light of his wand. He still wasn't fully caught up from all the classes he had missed - but he was hopeful he could make up the difference over the Christmas break. Loud snores came from James' bed; deep, regular breathing came from Peter's … There was only silence from Sirius's, though - and Remus frowned, wondering if the boy was staying up, like him. And, if he was, why that would be the case. Sirius hadn't missed any classes - and he seemed to learn everything they were taught completely effortlessly. He had no need to study …

But nevertheless - the silence persisted. Until there was a creak of bedsprings, the sound of feet hitting the floor and then pitter pattering their way across the dorm - and then Sirius's handsome head poked in between Remus's curtains. 'You still awake, Remus?'

'Do you really want me to answer that incredibly obvious question?'

Sirius grinned, crawled onto the bed and up to the pillows, 'shove over, Remus, it's freezing.' He got under the covers and sat beside the other boy.

Remus put his book down. 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah … yes - are you?'

'I'm fine…' he was frowning. 'Not that I mind, but - why are you here?'

Sirius only shrugged, and stared up at the canopy. 'I saw your light on, figured you weren't sleeping … thought I'd come and find out why.'

'Nosy git - I'm just studying.'

'Oh - alright ... are you looking forward to going home tomorrow?' His voice seemed overly casual, and Remus noticed that Sirius was looking anywhere but directly at him. He frowned again.

'Of course - I haven't seen my parents since September, I've never been away from them this long …' He'd never been away from them for a single night since he had been bit, not until he came to school. 'I'll have so much to tell them. My dad will want to know everything that's changed and everything that's the same … and my mum obviously never came, so she'll just want to know … everything .'

'Oh - well - good. That's good.'

'Sirius?' He wrinkled his nose. 'Are you looking forward to going home?' Even in the dark, he could see his friend flush.

'No,' Sirius said quietly.

'Are you still worried about what your mum will say about you being in Gryffindor?'

He shrugged again.

'Sirius - is everything OK at home?'

'It's … it's the way it's always been. I suppose I don't know any different. But now I've been away …'

'You don't want to go back?'

He nodded. 'I thought … well, you were still up too - I thought you might … understand .'

'I'm sorry. It's only for a couple of weeks though. We'll be back before you know it.'

'Yeah...' he sighed heavily, and then seemed to take a great effort to pin his grin back on his face. 'But you're looking forward to going home? That's good - I thought maybe with your …' he blushed and didn't finish the sentence. 'I'm glad you have parents you want to see again. You're not getting the train are you?'

'No - I'm flooing out of Prof M's office. There's no point for us non-southerners to get the Hogwarts Express in the middle of the year.'

'You live in Wales, is that right?'

'On the border. Literally - our kitchen is in Wales. And the back garden. Most of our house is in England. We live in the middle of nowhere, sort of between Wrexham and Chester.'

'So are you English or Welsh?' Sirius asked.

'I'm English - my dad is, and I was born in Yorkshire where he used to live. My mum's Welsh.'

'So you're just northern?'

'Northern people are English too - you soft, southern pansy,' he smiled.

Sirius laughed and hit him. 'That explains your vowels.'

'What?'

'Your vowels - they're really flat.'

'You mean I don't say bahhhth and pahhth, like you? Instead of bath and path. That's 'cause I talk proper, me .' He made his voice extremely northern as he said that, exaggerating his accent tenfold. They both laughed, and shoulder-barged each other.

'I think I might start talking like you,' Sirius said. 'It would wind my mum right up.'

'Oh - a posh boy pretending to be rough … that's original.' He shoulder-barged him again.

'You're not actually "rough" though are you, Remus? You're just northern and half blood…'

The unspoken "and poor" seemed to hang heavy between them … though Sirius wasn't sneering at him.

'My mum's working class,' Remus said, 'but her family aren't rough or anything. They're perfectly respectable. My mum worked for an insurance company before she got married. My Grandma used to take a great deal of pride in the fact my mum worked an office job and wasn't a shopgirl or in a factory - she thought she was on her way up in the world … And then she met my dad. And you don't really meet many rough wizards do you? They do tend to be on the posher side of things.'

'What does your dad do?'

'He's sort of the world's leading expert on spirits and apparitions and stuff.'

'Wow,' Sirius looked impressed, 'no wonder you're so good at Defence - does he work at the Ministry?'

'Not any more. He had to give up after…' he blushed. 'After my mum got sick,' he lied. 'He looks after her now.'

'Oh - sorry… At least you've got parents to be proud of, though. Mine just sit on their backsides on a giant pile of inherited gold all day. And they only got the gold because their ancestors were just as awful as they are … My family really are awful. The way my mum acts - it's like she thinks she's the queen or something...' He snorted. 'Well - she thinks she's better than the queen, because the queen's only a muggle … as if that even matters.' He went quiet, his expression was glum.

'Christmas will be over soon - you'll be back before you know it,' Remus said softly, not knowing what else to say.

'I hope so.'

…

When Remus fell. spluttering, out of the fireplace at home, the next morning, he was immediately seized in a tight hug and smothered with kisses.

'Gerroff - mum! gerroff!' He wrinkled his nose up and pretended to struggle … but secretly he was very pleased.

'How is it? Are you happy? Are they treating you alright? Do you get enough to eat?' She broke off the hug for a single moment so she could peer anxiously into his eyes and ascertain for herself whether or not he was being starved.

'It's great, I love it - there's plenty of food, and it's really good.'

'I worry about these school dinners.'

He remembered what Lily had said on their very first evening. 'They're not like muggle school dinners. People who have been to normal schools say the food is much better at Hogwarts.'

'Well if you're sure…' She hugged him again - and didn't let go for at least five minutes.

When she did finally let go - and he got a proper look at her - he was in for a nasty shock. She was much thinner than he remembered, her eyes had dark circles under them - worse even than his after a full moon - and her face was lined. He could hear her wheezing as she breathed. 'Mum… you're not well!'

'Don't be silly, I'm fine. It's me that worries about you - not the other way around. Come on -' she ushered him onto the sofa. 'Lyall - make us some tea, let's hear all about this magic school of his.'

...

They had a very quiet Christmas - mostly just the three of them. He played Gobstones with his dad, and Monopoly with his mum. He didn't get much in the way of presents - of course there was not enough money for much - but Hope had knitted him a new jumper, and he got a box of Chocolate Frogs, a battered copy of a book about fighting vampires that turned out to have been written by none other than Professor Tenebris herself, and a second hand Tutshill Tornadoes scarf.

He spent Christmas day wearing his new sweater, his scarf flung around his neck and his nose buried in the book … and he very carefully tried not to worry every time he heard Hope take a rattly breath.

The day after Boxing Day they got in their battered Morris Minor and travelled down to the Rhondda Valley to spend the day with his Grandma and all of Hope's family. He didn't see them that often - the Howells didn't know about Lyall and Remus being magic … and, of course, Remus had always had to be kept separate from everyone because he was so dangerous - his own Grandparents and cousins included.

It was a good day - his cousins were noisy and boisterous and, having had practice being noisy and boisterous with James and Sirius, he found it easier to play with them than he normally did. And they didn't seem to find him as strange as he usually appeared. All in all, he thought his muggle cousins were vastly preferable to Sirius's large group of snooty, pure blood, Slytherin ones.

Though he closed his ears and pretended not to hear when his Grandma Howell exclaimed at how thin Hope was, and started asking anxious questions about whether or not she had visited a doctor.

They returned home that night - Hope went straight to bed, saying she was exhausted, while Remus and Lyall stayed up late playing wizard's chess. Remus's eyes followed his mum all the way up the stairs - and then he became aware of his dad watching him, his expression sad.

Remus swallowed. 'Mum's not well, is she?'

'She hasn't been for a long time.'

'It's my fault - because we have to keep moving, because she has to worry so much about me … I - I'm killing her - aren't I?'

'Remus!' and Lyall's voice was heartbroken. 'Things have not been … the way we hoped they would turn out, when we were young - when you were first born. But nothing that has happened is your fault. You have to know that. You are not to blame - your mother and I know it, you must promise me you'll never think that again.'

'But she isn't getting better,' he said quietly.

'Maybe … maybe we can hope for a miracle. But until then she just wants to know you're happy and well. Nothing else matters to her. If you are well - she will be well.'

But the next day, the aches and pains of the approaching full moon started up. Remus slept but never felt refreshed; his skin prickled and his bones hurt and every time he looked over at his mother, it was to see her looking over anxiously at him. She was pale, the circles under her eyes were huge … and he realised neither of them were ever going to be well.

...

James sat in the drawing room of his family's manor, surrounded by his piles of presents. He had great heaps of books and clothes, his own set of chessmen and a new set of gobstones, chocolate frogs and sugar quills and peppermint toads; he had a full set of Falmouth Falcons Quidditch robes, and a brand new quaffle; he had a wand servicing kit and a whole selection box of Zonko tricks, along with some Filibuster Indoor Fireworks and a brew your own potions kit that came with the ingredients and instructions to make the elixir of life … Though he doubted very much that would work. And best of all, he had the secret present his dad had pressed on him. The family heirloom.

He lay on the sofa, pouring Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans straight into his mouth from the box, and thinking about how much more trouble he and his friends could get into now he had his dad's gift.

His mum sat over by the window, her knitting was flashing in front of her in the air and every so often she gave her precious son an indulgent smile. 'You're sure they feed you enough at that school?'

'Mum…' (he said through a mouthful of spinach, pepper and earwax flavoured beans … he was living on the edge) 'you know the food's great at Hogwarts.'

'I daresay it's passable. I just want to know you're getting enough.'

''M gettin enuff.' He swallowed the beans.

'Because I could send you back with some cakes and things.'

He considered this for a moment. 'You know - you're right. They don't give us anywhere near enough. I'm always hungry - I could probably do with some extra plum puddings and whatnot.'

She gave him another indulgent smile. 'And your friends are nice?'

'They're great.'

'And one of them is a Black?' She sounded a little unsure.

'Yes - Sirius. He's not like his family. He's sort of the black sheep of his family … pun intended.'

Mrs. Potter laughed. 'Very clever! And who are the others, do we know their families?'

'Dunno,' he shrugged and poured himself another mouthful of beans (cinamon, licorice and vomit). 'Pete's family are wizards. Peter Pettigrew - do you know them, dad?' He twisted on the sofa to look at Mr. Potter.

'Don't think so.'

'And the other boy is muggleborn?' Mrs. Potter asked.

'Half blood - his mum's a muggle. His dad is a wizard.'

'Who's his father?'

'Dunno - Mr. Lupin, I suppose.'

'Lupin?' Mrs. Potter frowned, ' Lupin?' She turned to her husband, 'that name seems familiar - don't you think?'

'Lyall Lupin,' Mr. Potter supplied. 'Very talented wizard, worked for the Ministry - expert in apparations. No one more knowledgeable and then … he vanished.'

'Like one of his apparitions,' Mrs. Potter smiled.

'Well - with a bit more trouble than that. You remember, Euphemia, the unpleasantness with the wizengamot? - About 6 years or so ago, now.'

'That's right ! when Jimmy was only little. What was it about now?' She scrunched up her nose, 'something to do with … werewolves wasn't it?'

James choked on his Every Flavour Beans. 'Werewolves?'

'Yes - there was an altercation … and he didn't like some laws that were being brought in. Laws that would limit werewolves being able to live among normal people … though Merlin only knows why he would care. He got in a great shouting match in the middle of the Ministry and then he and his family just disappeared. It was quite the scandal for a while.'

James frowned … Remus had never mentioned anything about a scandal. It seemed like the sort of interesting thing you would bring up - something to show off about: "my dad got in trouble with the wizengamot" … Why wouldn't he mention…? He suddenly remembered the scars. And the way Remus kept disappearing - once a month or so … and how he always looked poorly …

No… No . Surely not - not Remus … but - it did all fit.

He sat up. 'Dad - can I borrow Archimedes?' he asked, 'there's a letter I need to send.'

…

Sirius sat alone in his room. It was cold up here, there was no fire lit in the grate and the wind whistled down the chimney. But he had swiped a goblet of wine and a mince pie from the kitchen when Kreacher, their house elf, wasn't looking. His parents would be going out to some society Christmas party in a while, and he might venture downstairs to a room where there was a fire lit then. But for now he was hiding up here.

Mrs. Black hadn't walloped him with her broomstick when she got him home - but she had barely spoken to him either. She had just glared at him furiously. Kreacher had mumbled about him under his breath. His father had eyed him up with great disappointment and his little brother, Regulus, had just stared at him wide eyed - as if he couldn't quite believe that someone could be so wayward and criminal as to get sorted into Gryffindor - and he was a little bit afraid of his big brother now.

It had been a very frosty Christmas. And whereas Reg had been given a great pile of presents that he had opened with glee under the Christmas tree, Sirius had only had a very meagre offering. He had been given a family banner - in green and silver - that had their family motto "Tojours Pur" emblazoned on it.

He had used the Colour Changing Charm they had learned in Professor Flitwick's class to turn it red and gold. He had changed the lettering on it too so it said "always lions" and hung it on his wall with a permanent sticking charm.

He had also been given a very fine, leather bound book as well: "Pense's Peerage " it was called. A genealogy of wizarding nobility - which included all the names of the Sacred Twenty Eight families going all the way back to 1225.

'You're entry is on page 394,' his mother told him, 'and there's room there for your wife and children. Only the very best families are in here. The most important wizards - and there you are, on page 394. Because you are a somebody, Sirius Black, whether you like it or not. None of your new little friends are in here. What does that tell you?'

'That Pense is a ponce - and so is anybody who reads this book,' he had said darkly, tossing it to one side. He had got walloped with the broomstick for that.

Now, sitting in his room, the wine was making his head buzz. His stomach growled … the mince pie wasn't really enough. But he didn't want to venture out into the rest of the house when his parents were still here… The holidays seemed to be lasting a very long time indeed. He would probably starve to death before he got back to Hogwarts…

He was interrupted from his gloomy thoughts by a sudden light tapping on the window. There was an owl fluttering up and down outside, a letter clutched in its beak. He opened the window, brought the owl inside - crumbled up some mince pie for it to eat, 'you can have some of the wine as well, if you like,' and tore open the letter.

It was written in James' untidy scrawl.

...

Sirius!

I've worked it out - why Remus keeps disappearing. You're not going to believe this. Wait for it … wait for it … Remus is … a WEREWOLF!

Think about it: he's got the scars; he's really secretive; he's never feeling well and every so often he disappears for the night. I bet if we checked the calendar, those nights would turn out to be full moon nights.

And apparently there was some falling out at the Ministry between his dad and the Wizengamot - and that was to do with anti-werewolf laws being brought in. Why else would Mr. Lupin care about anti-werewolf laws? Unless his son was one!

I'm onto something - I know it. I know, I know - Remus folds his socks, no way can someone like him turn into a wild, hairy monster every month. It sounds mental … But I'm sure I'm right!

We'll have to ask him when we get back to school.

Hope your mum's not being too horrible. I got loads of presents - hope you got a good haul too. See you in a week.

James.

...

Sirius rolled his eyes, bit back a grin, and pulled a quill and parchment over to himself to write a reply.

...

James,

You are mental. That is the stupidest thing I ever heard.

1) Remus folds his socks!

2) They would never let a werewolf come to school - it's too dangerous.

3) Remus folds his socks!

4) All that stuff is a massive coincidence. He must have got those scars in an accident and he's just sort of sickly.

5) Remus folds his socks!

I expressly forbid youfrom mentioning any of this to Remus when we get back. I mean it, James - poor kid, the last thing he needs is you spreading silly rumours about him. You'll embarrass him. However he got those scars is his business and it's not our place to make wild guesses.

If you spring this on him, I will hit you really hard and then curse you with the curse of the bogies. And don't mention it to Pete, either - he might freak out. He's just about stupid enough to believe you - and Remus could end up getting kicked out of school when he's done nothing wrong.

My mum is awful; my presents were naff. I'm counting down the days until we go back.

Sirius.

...

Then he stuffed the letter in an envelope, scribbled James' name on the outside and handed it to Archimedes. Once he was alone again, he listened carefully for any signs of life and then crept down to the kitchen to scavenge for something else to eat.

…

James frowned, when he read Sirius's reply - and balled up the parchment and threw it in the bin. He knew he was onto something. He didn't know why Sirius was so dead set against finding out the truth.

He went downstairs. 'Dad?' he asked, 'when's the next full moon?' His dad was an old potioneer - he always knew the phases of the moon, as certain plants had to be harvested at certain times. He would know when the full was due.

'New Years Eve,' Mr. Potter replied promptly, not even having to think about it.

'Right. Can I borrow Archimedes again? There's a letter I need to send for New Year's Day.'

…

When Remus woke up on January the First, he didn't understand at first why he wasn't in the Shrieking Shack. Instead he was face down on the concrete floor of a cellar - and there was a thick, metal shackle tied around his ankle and fixed to the wall. Same as always, though, he was naked, freezing and covered in bites and scratches.

He heard movement up above … and the sound of a door opening. 'Remus?' it was his father's voice - and he remembered he was still at home; that's why he was chained up …because he wasn't properly separated from humans here. 'Are you awake, son?'

'Yes,' he tugged forlornly at the shackle. It didn't budge.

His dad appeared, carrying a cup of tea and some pajamas. 'Come, on let's get you up to your bedroom.' He waved his wand and the chain vanished - and then helped Remus get dressed. Remus hissed in pain as the fabric brushed against his fresh cuts.

'There there, come on, now,' with a gentle arm around his son's shoulders, Lyall helped him to his feet and supported him back up the stairs into the house. And when Remus's legs wobbled and he nearly fell, he picked his son up and carried him up the stairs to his bedroom.

'Drink this.' It was only tea - not Hippworth's Healing Tincture - and it didn't soothe him or ease the pain any, but Remus appreciated the gesture nevertheless. His mum came in, and wrapped her arms around him. She sat on his bed and he curled up in her lap while she stroked his hair and made soothing noises … and he thought he might quite like to stay this way forever. Never move again. Just him and his mum.

'This came for you,' his dad said, taking something out of his pocket - it was a letter. Groggily, Remus reached out to take it, recognising at once James' scruffy handwriting.

...

Hi Remus,

I hope you're feeling alright today. I know you get poorly every so often and it seems to be about the right time - if you are under the weather, I hope you feel better soon. It's a rotten way to start off the new year!

I hope you had a good Christmas. I got loads of stuff - including tickets to the Falcons vs Tornadoes game at Bodmin Moor this afternoon. Obviously I want the Falcons to smash the Tornadoes into the ground - but I'll clap every Tornado goal for you.

I also got something from my dad that I can't wait to show you. You wouldn't believe me if I told you - so you'll just have to wait and see. But next term is going to be excellent!

Anyway, see you in a few days - feel better - and Happy New Year!

James

...

'Who's it from?' Hope asked him.

'My friend, James.' Being able to call someone his friend still felt strange - and absolutely wonderful. And so did getting a letter this morning, when he felt so awful … Being reminded that there were people out there, beyond his mum and dad, who cared about him cheered him right up. Just reading the letter felt like downing an entire bottle of butterbeer, and he was suddenly all warm inside - despite the cuts and the bruises and the aches and the pains.

And, clutching James' letter in his hand, he fell asleep in his mum's lap - and slept for most of the rest of the day.