Chapter Eight: Dark Days and Birthdays

No one else in school even seemed to be aware of the werewolf attacks going on outside of the castle walls. They weren't worried about what this would mean - or how it might relate to the mysterious disappearances, which had been plaguing the wizarding world for about a year now.

For the rest of the school, if the news was not about Bobby, Kenny, Richard and Roger they did not want to know.

Remus did not have that same luxury, however and - for his sake - neither did his friends. Day by day they would read Mable Grable's latest articles - detailing the new anti-werewolf legislations currently going through the Ministry, or opinion pieces calling for even harsher measures - with sinking hearts.

'It doesn't affect you though, Remus, does it?' Peter asked him worriedly when the four of them were in private.

'Well, I'm already doing what I'm supposed to. I'm kept safe and separate at the full moon and there are …' he blushed, 'humans responsible for making sure I follow the rules.'

'You are human,' Sirius said to him. 'And bollocks to anyone who ever says any different.'

That made Remus smile wryly. 'It's not always that simple,' he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 'Not everyone thinks like you. Hardly anyone, in fact. And these laws they're making on restrictions on werewolves working…'

'Oh that won't affect you for years though,' James told him. 'By the time we leave this place, the laws are bound to be better. You'll see.'

Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, and Remus could tell that Sirius did not share James' optimism.

'Things are starting to look bad,' Sirius gnawed on his lip as he spoke. 'You said it yourself, mate - pureblood mania is spreading around the country. And we all heard what Mulciber told Snivellus.'

But that only made James snort in derision. 'We're not taking things the Slytherins say seriously, are we?'

Remus and Sirius exchanged another look. 'Look what's in the paper,' Remus said. 'Look at everything that's going on. The world is changing. I don't know if the werewolves really are acting up - but, if these laws go through, it won't be long before they start. Something's happening. And I think things are going to get worse before they get better.'

'But not for you. ' Peter still sounded worried.

Sirius draped an arm around Remus's shoulders. ''Course not for him, Pete. He's got us - he'll always have us - and we'll make sure nothing too bad happens. We'll take care of him.' He gave Remus a squeeze. 'There's not much point in me being King Sirius Black the third, if I can't use my lofty position to take care of halfblood peasants like him.'

And Remus grinned and barged him.

…

But for all that they pretended that there was nothing to worry about - and that all would be well - the increasing bad news in the papers, the continuing disappearances, and the ever more hysterical articles from Mabel, and letters to the editors from the concerned witches and wizards of Ottery St. Catchpole, Upper Flagley and Tunbridge Wells told them what they did not have the heart to fully admit: Dark days lay ahead - and they would be especially dark for Remus.

And it seemed that, even if the other students were not aware, the teachers - at least - were heeding the signs and starting to worry. They could be seen huddled together in the corridors between classes, or avidly reading the paper at mealtimes. Their tempers seemed to be on a hair trigger and they were all too easily provoked by the slightest bad behaviour.

'Blimey!' James said, after he and Sirius had been delayed from the beginning of History of Magic for ten minutes by Professor McGonagall yelling at them and putting them in detention (when all they had done was hex Giles Pryce's feet so they grew six sizes!).'What is she in such a bad mood for?'

'It's the news,' Sirius said. 'They're worried about what it all might mean.'

'It isn't really going to mean anything though, is it? Everything will be alright, won't it?'

'Maybe for us.' His voice was dark.

'Do you really think things will be bad for Remus?'

'I really do.'

They arrived late to class, but Professor Binns did not notice - or even look up - as they walked in.

'I wish there was something we could do for him,' James said later, when the pair of them had ducked out of the castle just before the doors were locked for the night - and were standing by the lake, skimming stones. 'I wish there was some way we could help.'

'Well unless you've got a cure for being a werewolf' (he lowered his voice to a whisper for the "W" word - although there was no one around) 'hidden up your sleeve…'

'My dad knows about potions. Maybe I'll ask him.'

'There isn't a cure, mate - and there isn't likely to be one. Not in our lifetimes anyway.'

'Then we need to find another way to help him.'

They used the secret entrance behind the Greenhouses, which led up to the boys' bathroom, to get back inside. But they were still caught out of bounds by Mr. Filch and given another detention.

…

In direct contrast to the worry of the teachers, however, was the smug looks and even excitement among the Slytherins. Like the teachers, they too could be found huddled in corridors, swapping rumours, spreading tales and whispering intently under their breath.

'Slughorn's not looking too happy, is he?' Peter remarked, one Potions lesson.

'That's because Remus is in the room - and he's expecting cauldron meltdown in three … two …'

Remus flicked a ladleful of his (rather watery) Swelling Solution at Sirius. Nothing happened. It seemed that he had failed in brewing a magic potion, but had happily succeeded in cooking a broth.

But still, Peter was right. Slughorn looked strained, where he was normally jovial. And whereas usually he spent vast swathes of the lesson chatting to the well connected Mulciber and Avery, today he was ignoring them completely in favour of Giles Pryce and Evander Upwin.

And something was going on up on the front benches, where Snivellus and FlatuLily sat. Snivellus was looking very harassed and kept glancing towards Lily. His expression was complicated and it looked like he was fighting a furious war in his mind.

'What are you always sitting with her for?' Natasha Perell hissed at him from the seat behind.

He flushed; his normally pallid face going an ugly, blotchy red. 'She's the best at Potions,' he whispered back, looking awkwardly between the two girls.

Lily was busy stirring her Swelling Solution and looked for all the world like she wasn't listening … and yet she was holding herself unusually stiffly.

Natasha gave an ugly laugh. 'I don't think a little…' she lowered her voice to below a whisper for the next word - and whatever she said made Snape flush even deeper and look back at Lily, 'would be the best at any kind of magic. She's just Slughorn's favourite. He doesn't know what she is.'

The bell rang, and Severus threw his books into his bag - looking very sour.

'What did Natasha call me?' Lily asked him, once they were out in the corridor - headed for the stairs.

'Nothing - it doesn't matter.'

'She said …' She wrinkled her nose, ' mudblood. What does it mean?'

'Nothing.'

'Sev.' There was a warning note to her voice.

'Look - it's like I told you. Things are changing, and they're changing for the better. But you need to be careful.'

'Of what?' she asked incredulously. But Severus wouldn't tell her. He just shook his head impatiently and stalked off.

So, feeling a little bewildered and more than a little hurt (though she was not yet sure that was an appropriate response … she had a nagging feeling that she ought to be feeling angry) she decided to ask Petra instead.

'What's a "mudblood"?' she asked that night in the common room, as the four girls sat around a table looking up potion ingredients for their homework.

Mandy dropped her quill in surprise. And Petra went bright red - and her whole body went rigid. 'Has someone called you that?' she asked sharply.

'Yes - that Perell girl did in Potions. She was talking to Sev, only he wouldn't tell me what it meant.'

Petra had turned magenta now, and her expression was thunderous. Mandy looked no less outraged. Lily and Mary exchanged a bemused glance.

'If anyone ever calls you that again, you tell a teacher, you hear? Both of you.' Petra looked between both muggleborn girls.

'But what's going on?' Mary asked.

'It's a really foul word,' Mandy said. 'Like a swear word - really disgusting. And some people - like Natasha - Like "Sev" - use it on people who are muggleborn.'

'Sev would never call me a bad word - he's my friend.'

'Well the less you have to do with him the better.'

'He needs me.'

'But what on earth does it mean?' Mary asked.

Petra and Mandy exchanged a dark look. 'It means dirty blood,' Petra told them both. 'It means the Slytherins think you're not as good as them because their blood is so "pure",' she made angry quotation marks with her fingers, 'and yours is dirty because you come from muggle families. It's really vile, and you don't let anyone call you it.'

Mary and Lily had both flushed. 'Sev would never say that to me. He doesn't care where I come from,' Lily said. The other girls looked at each other again - but didn't say anything.

But it did seem - over the next few days, for those who knew what to look for - that some students were growing bolder in insulting and hexing muggleborn students. Some of the Kneazle graffiti was found defaced and - all in all - Slytherin house was walking through the corridor with a fresh swagger. And though Severus might still sit with Lily in Potions - and never call her bad words himself - he was still hanging around with Mulciber and Avery and (when Lily was not in earshot) using the same language as the rest of them.

Not that muggleborns were the only targets. Sirius was still finding himself on the receiving end of various hexes and jinxes every time he bumped into a member of the Black family in the corridors.

'I don't know why they keep on blaming me,' he sighed, as he tap danced his way down the corridor - having been hit by 'Tarantellegra' by Narcissa, as she passed. 'I don't care enough about what goes on to talk to that Skeeter cow about 'Dromeda. I do everything I can to not have to think about my hideous family … and can someone cast the bloody countercurse and stop me bloody tap dancing!'

But James was too busy laughing his head off at Sirius's manic single buffalo step heel-heel step to help him. So, with a wary eye out for Filch, Remus took out his wand. 'Hold him still, Pete - I need to aim.'

Peter grabbed Sirius under the arms. They nearly collapsed, as his legs kept kicking like a Cossack. But not for nothing was Remus the most gifted in Defence - and, one swift counter-jinx later, Sirius was in control of his feet once more. 'Thanks, Remus.' He shot a disgusted look at the still howling James. 'You were worse than useless.' He glowered again. 'I still wish I knew who told.'

'You never will, though,' said Peter.

'No… so I'll just have to learn to live with being jinxed.' And he sighed deeply again.

'Cheer up,' Remus said to him. 'We're off to Defence. Maybe you'll get lucky and Tenebris will teach us the shield charm.'

But it was not meant to be. They weren't even using their wands; they were researching the proper care and cure for Jarvey bites. And Sirius had even less reason to be cheerful afterwards, for he was spending that evening in detention with Prof M.

'Perhaps you will think twice before you think it's funny to jinx innocent bystanders,' she said to him, when he sighed as if his heart would break while writing lines in her office.

'Yes, Professor.'

'Hmmm.' She looked disapproving; though Sirius could swear that - for just a moment - her lips had twitched. She was laughing at him!

He sighed again.

And then, from just outside the office, there came a mighty crash! Bang! Wallop! And the sound of Mr. Filch yelling.

'Just wait here, Black,' McGonagall said, frowning, and she swept from the room to investigate.

The moment the door had closed, Sirius dropped his quill, got to his feet and headed for the pink biscuit tin where he knew she kept her Ginger Newts… he was feeling peckish. As he bit into his stolen biscuit and kept one wary eye on the door for any sign of Big Macca returning - he used his other eye to scan her desk to see if there was anything interesting lying around.

He sifted through some sixth year essays on human transfiguration; skimmed over her copy of the Daily Prophet's crossword to see if she had got any answers he had missed and then finally sat in her chair so he could have a good root through her desk drawers.

He helped himself to another biscuit, pulled open her top drawer and took out a very official looking letter.

It had the crest of the Ministry of Magic itself embossed on the envelope. Well … this looked interesting! With another glance at the door, he slid the letter out of the envelope and looked it over.

Dear Minerva McGonagall,

He read

Following your recent successful accomplishment of the final stage of the process of becoming an animagus and your first transformation, we offer congratulations!

In order to be legally recognised in your new status, please find enclosed form 3B2S (Animagi Forms and Markings) to be filled in and returned no later than 30th November.

Please take care to give full and accurate information regarding:

*What type of animal you can now turn into

*Approximate dimensions of said animal

*Any markings and distinguishing features by which your animal form may be recognised.

Failure to complete and return the form could result in prosecution, a fine of up to 300 Galleons and a custodial sentence in Azkaban prison of no more than 18 months.

Congratulations, once more, on your success. May you enjoy the freedoms your new form gives you.

Yours,

Bralenda Hopkirk,

Wizengamot Administrative and Registration Department

Ignoring the shiver that went down his spine at the thought of 18 whole months locked away with the dementors of Azkaban, Sirius leafed through the forms, reading the information Professor McGonagall had already filled out:

Animal shape: Cat (feline, domestic)

Colour: Tabby

Distinguishing Marks: Fur shaded like square spectacles

Sirius frowned … if he understood this correctly, Professor McGonagall had recently become an an-i-ma-gus (he wasn't quite sure how to pronounce that) and it seemed that, if he was reading this right, Big Macca could now turn into a cat.

He frowned even deeper. Why would anyone want to be able to do that?

A sudden sound out in the hallway alerted him to the imminent return of his Head of House. Quickly, Sirius stashed the letter and the forms back in the envelope and threw the whole thing back in the drawer. He brushed away any signs of telltale biscuit crumbs and - by the time the door opened - he was back at his desk, head down, quill in hand - as if he had never moved.

He did risk a glance upwards when she walked past him, though - and saw that her nostrils were in full flare.

'What happened, Professor?' he asked, politely (trying his hardest not to imagine her as a tabby cat with whiskers, as the thought made him want to giggle).

'Peeves,' she said shortly.

'Oh - er - what did he do?'

It seemed he had hid behind a suit of armour and then pushed it over on the first unsuspecting first year who walked past. The first year had been knocked unconscious by the tumbling helmet and breastplate (and the falling mace had done some nasty damage too) and had been taken to the Hospital Wing. No one knew when they would wake up.

'So mind how you go,' Professor McGonagall said, as she dismissed Sirius at the end of the evening. 'Keep an eye out for Peeves; you know what he's like.'

I will. Night, Professor.' And he headed up to Gryffindor Tower. He met James en route (James had been sent to a separate detention, because the prof thought the two of them would only muck around otherwise. Sirius did not know how the pair of them had managed to get this extremely unfair reputation as troublemakers for themselves.)

They found Remus waiting up for them and - even better than his just being there - he had finished their Defence Against The Dark Arts homework for them while they were otherwise occupied.

'I could kiss you,' Sirius said, grinning in delight and giving it the once over.

'...Er…'

'Don't do that, mate,' James snickered. 'Otherwise the girls'll get all funny about the two of you - like you're Bobby and Roger.'

'It was nothing anyway,' Remus said. 'You two are always completing homework for me.'

'Yeah but - you have a legitimate reason to need help catching up. Me and James are just badly behaved arses. You're too good for us, Remus. We don't deserve you.'

Remus flushed in pleasure, gave them their homework and they went to bed.

…

October came to a close with the usual Halloween feast. Once again the Great Hall was decorated with live bats and giant, carved pumpkins - and the castle ghosts put on a show of synchronised gliding. 'I like Halloween,' James said, biting into a chocolate smothered flapjack. 'It always feels like something exciting might happen … it might be my favourite day of the year.'

But Sirius snorted. 'Nothing ever happens on Halloween - it's all big promise and then no follow through. It's utterly dead. '

'I think that's the point of it, isn't it?' Remus smiled. Sirius gave him a shove.

The beginning of November saw the last of the crisp weather and the beginning of the grey and drizzle that was the precursor to winter. It also saw Sirius's birthday.

'I'm a real teenager now,' he said to them, when he woke up - sounding rather self important. 'Of course you all wouldn't understand what that's like…'

'Merlin - Pete's birthday is in February!' James said - sounding halfway between disgusted and amused. 'And then me and Remus are both in March. You're hardly the wise, old elder of the group.'

'You should respect your elders, young whippersnapper.'

'No one respects you, Sirius.'

'Remus does.'

'I never said that!' Remus laughed.

'I can just … tell . It's all in the way you look at me.'

'I don't look at you!'

'No one looks at you, Sirius - you're barking!'

'Everyone looks at me - because I'm so handsome.' He was suddenly smacked in the face by three pillows all thrown simultaneously. 'Mmmpff - you can't do that! It's my birthday!' And he lobbed each of the pillows back to their respective owners as hard as he could.

'You've gone soft, in your old age,' Remus told him - scrambling out of bed and rooting in his trunk for something. 'Here you go, old man, presents!'

'Cool, thanks!'

He ripped the wrapping off the gift Remus had just given him and grinned. It was a large chocolate coin with the Holyhead Harpies symbol stamped in the middle - and a book of crossword puzzles. 'You'll have to help me with these.'

'I know.'

He looked expectantly at James and Peter. Peter handed over his own gift - which was a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and another enchanted drawing (this one of Sirius pushing Snivellus into a cauldron of Swelling Solution - and Snivellus swelling up to the size of a hot air balloon).

James had got him a pair of omnioculars. 'They're only second hand,' he said, 'they're my dad's old pair - but I thought you might enjoy taking them apart - like the nutter that you are.'

'Brilliant!'

'But when you've put them back together - I'm having them back to watch the Quidditch with.'

'Yeah, yeah…' he was barely listening, he was already pointing his wand at the little screws to take them out, his face lit up in excitement.

'Sirius - do that tonight. Breakfast. Lessons - come on,' Remus said to him. And with much chivvying, they managed to get the birthday boy to abandon his tinkering, get dressed and leave with them for the Great Hall.

It was as they were spooning brown sugar onto their porridge that a piercing shriek announced the arrival of the owl post. The birds flew around, circling the tables, dropping parcels and letters (and feathers - and, as always, Lily hunched protectively over her breakfast). Sirius looked up - watching the deliveries - and, sure enough, a flash of green collar among the browns and whites told him that the Black family's elegant eagle owl was up there. It soared and swooped around - searching, a package tied to its foot… and then it passed over the Gryffindor table and landed on the Slytherin one right beside Regulus - who looked very pleased and started to unwrap whatever he had been sent from home.

Sirius's mouth fell open. He closed it immediately, shrugged and turned away.

The other three were still staring though. 'No way …' James breathed.

'Forget it.' Sirius grinned at them. 'Do I come from the most awful family in the world or what?' Remus couldn't help but notice that smile did not reach Sirius's eyes … and the cheer in his voice sounded very definitely forced.

'They did that on purpose,' James said to Remus and Peter, later on - when Sirius had nipped to the loo. 'Foul gits.'

'Do you think it's because they still blame him over the school finding out about Andromeda?' Peter worried.

'Maybe or maybe it's because he's a blood traitor and well … we've seen the papers. What's going on is right up their alley, isn't it?'

'I wish he didn't have to go back to them for Christmas,' Remus said. 'If it wasn't going to be my dad's first Christmas without my mum, I'd tell Sirius we should just stay at school for the holidays. But I can't leave my dad alone. Not this year.'

'I'll stay at school,' James said. 'I'll tell my parents to go on holiday somewhere warm - somewhere they've always wanted to go - and me and Sirius can stay here together. What do you think?'

'I think that offer might be the best birthday present he gets.'

…

November continued, getting wetter and greyer and more bleak with every passing day. And the news being reported in the paper seemed to match the weather perfectly (all the news that wasn't about The Kneazles that was; they would be one ray of sunshine in the gathering gloom, if it wasn't for the fact that James was determined to hate them - as their concerts clashed with the Quidditch.)

A few weeks after Sirius's birthday, the full moon was upon them again and - with assurances from his friends not to worry about homework and with wellwishes for an easy night and a speedy recovery - Remus made his way down to the Hospital Wing at half past four. With winter drawing in, the days were short - this far north - and the nights were very long. And, for all his friends had hoped this transformation would not be too bad, he knew it would be a tough one. The ones at the end of the year were always the worst.

Madam Pomfrey had a large umbrella ready when he got to the Infirmary. 'Come on,' she said. 'We don't want you getting wet and catching cold on top of everything else. And it's raining Kneazles and Crups out there.'

Reflecting on just how excited Lily and the other girls would be, if it was actually raining members of the actual Kneazles, Remus ducked under the brolly and splashed his way towards the Whomping Willow. Madam Pomfrey seized a branch and pressed the knot hidden in the roots, the tree froze up and he said his goodbyes and slipped down the passageway, heading for the Shrieking Shack. For once it was a relief to be in the tunnel beneath the earth, just to get out of the rain.

He clambered up into the shack and climbed the stairs up to the bedroom, where he removed his clothes and then huddled under the blankets of the bed. It was damp and chill in all the rain, and even the cheerful fire blazing in the grate could not quite drive away the worst of it. He sat and waited, though he did not have to wait long.

The clock had barely finished chiming five when the moon rose, his whole body went rigid and his limbs began to shake and tremble. He was aware of the pain of his bones snapping, his head elongating into a muzzle and the sensation of the fur pushing its way through his skin. A twinge at the base of his spine made him think of Peter, as his tail began to sprout… and then his conscious mind slipped away to be replaced by the ravening madness of the wolf.

The night lasted fourteen hours. Fourteen hours of howling and scratching and biting and hurling himself against the boarded windows in a bid to escape his prison. And then the sun rose (though it was weak and watery and barely visible between the grey clouds) and the wolf froze in place - began to shake and shudder, and then collapsed on the floor. The fur retracted, the paws curled back out into hands and feet - and then Remus was lying face down on the splintery floorboards, covered in vivid red scratches.

He groaned, as he woke up. It was even more chilly this morning; the fires had died out in the night and it felt like the fog had permeated through the walls and was swirling inside the house itself. He forced himself to his feet and stumbled back up the stairs to find his clothes, just as the sound of the trapdoor opening told him Madam Pomfrey had arrived.

When he came back down the stairs, he found that she had used her wand to put right all the damage he had done to the shack in the night - and was now shaking out her enormous brolly. 'It's still raining?' he said.

'It is. Come on now, Mr. Lupin - let's get you fixed up.'

He sat on the edge of the bed in the Infirmary and yawned massively as she slathered the orange ointment onto the worst of his scrapes. It had been a very long night - and he was exhausted.

'I'm not sure you're going to need the sleeping draught,' she said - eyeing him up.

'No I …' he stifled another yawn, 'I feel like I could sleep for a week.'

'Very well - drink your healing tincture and we'll see how you go.'

He pulled on his pajama shirt, drained the beakerful of green, nettle-tasting potion which immediately soothed all his aches - and lay down. He yawned again - blinked twice … and fell asleep.

He woke up again a few hours later - when the sounds of his friends' voices drifted into his dreams.

'Maybe if I give him a prod…'

'Don't do that, you berk - he needs his sleep.'

'But we came here to see him.'

'So look at him - he's right there!'

He fought against the heaviness of his lids and forced his eyes open. Sirius and James' faces came swimming into view. They were bending right over him, arguing. Peter was standing far more quietly at the end of the bed.

'Look, you woke him up!' Sirius hissed.

's'Ok - I don't … I don't mind.' He yawned again and struggled to sit up. 'What are you doing here?'

'We came to visit you, of course!' James told him. 'It's break time - we thought we'd drop by.'

'And disturb your recovery.'

Remus smiled.

'He doesn't mind, Sirius, stop fussing.'

'Of course he minds - he's just too nice to tell you to get lost. How are you feeling?' This last he directed towards Remus, and his voice was much more soft.

'I'm…' he yawned again. 'Tired - and my ribs hurt. But I'll be OK.'

'How was it?'

'Pretty awful…' He smiled when he saw the stricken looks on their faces. 'Sorry - I shouldn't complain. But the winter months are always the worst because the nights last so long. Really - I'm just being soft. It was fine.'

'Well - we're making copies of all the notes for you, so you won't fall behind - and this afternoon is only History of Magic so…'

Sirius was cut off when the door to the Hospital Wing swung open and Professor McGonagall walked in, looking very grim and sombre indeed. 'What are you three doing here?' she barked at the boys, when she saw them.

'Visiting Remus, what does it look like?'

'Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek, Potter - now scram. All of you. Go!'

'But…'

'Out!' Her nostrils flared, her lips went thin and - with a bemused backward glance at Remus - they all fled. Then McGonagall turned to him … and suddenly her expression was soft, but no less worried. 'I need you to get dressed and come with me, Remus.'

He felt his stomach just fall away - she had called him by his first name. She only did that when … 'What's wrong, Professor?'

'I'm afraid I need to take you to the Headmaster's office. The Minister for Magic, herself, is with him. I'm afraid … I'm afraid there's been another werewolf attack. Last night. A body has been found in Hogsmeade.'