Chapter Nine: Thunderclouds and Beanstalks

'He says everything's alright, but I'm not sure it really is,' Sirius said to the others, rather gloomily, during Care of Magical Creatures on Friday. 'Has anyone else noticed that? He's … reserved.'

'I mean…' James frowned and threw an arm out to stop his bowtruckle from running off the edge of the table, 'it's not like Moony is always Mr. Open "here's what I'm thinking" is it? He is quite - you know - reserved, in general.'

'It's more than that though,' Sirius said. 'He's - things are different.'

'Can you blame him?'

It was Sirius's turn to frown. No - he could not blame Remus for still being awkward around them - around him - but that still didn't mean he had to like it.

…

While Sirius may not be happy with the current state of affairs, things were not seeming too rosy for Severus either. He had been sworn to secrecy about what had happened on Monday night. He had kept his side of the bargain. And yet - despite the distraction with the custard-filled lake - everyone else was still talking about the night of the full moon and the terrible howling which had kept them awake.

And though the actual events were not common knowledge - and never could be - people had still somehow managed to piece events together, the way they always did at Hogwarts, in a manner that was both wildly off base and frighteningly accurate at the same time.

Snape's missing lessons on Tuesday had been a mistake, because people noticed - and his being given a boat load of detentions made them talk. They knew he was somehow involved. And no one could fail to notice that James Potter's face had been pulverised into mince… so it was widely speculated that he was involved too.

'He was beaten up by the giant squid,' Sunita Chopra told Francis Yaleman.

'He was beaten up by the Whomping Willow,' Connie Bidwell told Sandy Lewis.

' He beat up a werewolf in the Forbidden Forest - and that's why he got a Special Services to the School Award,' Callum Brown told anyone who would listen.

And so a story started to spread that Potter had done … something heroic and saved Snape while he was at it, and that Snape had been out of bounds and breaking rules at the time. It made Severus's hands shake with rage every time he heard someone talking about it, but the rumours were everywhere and he could not escape them. Curious glances, whispers and even outright questions followed him everywhere he went.

'Where did you go, Snape? What did you do?'

'What did Potter save you from?'

It made him want to hex everyone around him into tiny pieces.

Mulciber and Avery were still in solitary confinement, and - though it pained him to notice it - Lily was spending far too much time fawning over that injured mudblood McDonald so that, even though she had started out the year trying to spend as much time as possible with Sev, she was around for him less and less at the moment. And he could really do with her right now, as the rumours about Saint Potter swirled around him and made him feel quite violent.

He tackled her about if after school, before his detention was due to start. 'We used to meet up in the library and work together on our Potions homework,' he said to her.

'I know but -'

'It's OWL year, and we're the best - we should be studying together if we want to beat… everyone else.' He grimaced as he imagined Potter getting an Outstanding in Potions. 'And I want to come top in Defence Against the Dark Arts as well.'

'Lupin always comes top in Defence.'

Severus balled his hands into fists, but he kept them in his pockets so she wouldn't see. 'He wouldn't if we just studied harder. But it looks like you're avoiding me at the moment. I thought we were supposed to be friends. Best friends?'

'We are, Sev!' She protested. 'But I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with.' She sighed, with everything the way it was at the moment - the war, the rhetoric, the way people were lining up to take sides - it shouldn't take spelling out, why she had not been around him as much since Mary was attacked. 'I'm sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber. Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev? He's creepy! Do you know what he tried to do to Mary McDonald the other day?' (It seemed impossible that Sev did not know, and yet she could not think of any other reason he would not outright condemn Mulciber for what he had done.)

She reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up at Severus in the hope of seeing something like reason somewhere on his sallow face. But reason was not to be found.

'That was nothing,' Snape told her, shrugging it off. 'It was a laugh, that's all -'

'It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny -'

'What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?' He burst out, unable to stop himself. Black and the gang had tried to murder him not four nights ago, and Lily wanted to talk about how Mulciber was evil?

'What's Potter got to do with anything?'

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her the whole sordid plan - of how Black had tricked him into the Willow, and how Lupin - who was a werewolf after all, just like he, Severus, had always said he was - had been waiting for him - ready to murder him. But he couldn't tell her that, because he would get expelled if he did. And so he told her the vague suspicions he used to hold instead.

'They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?'

'He's ill… they say he's ill.' She did not want to get into this.

'Every month at the full moon?' he asked, unable to help himself, though if Dumbledore ever heard about it it would mean expulsion.

But Lily was not interested. 'I know your theory,' she said coldly, shutting him down. She also knew that a young boy had been attacked by a werewolf back in 1965 and no one knew what had happened to him. She had once read an old newspaper article about it, while she was researching her werewolf hating ex Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor back in fourth year. She suspected Severus was right, and that the boy in the article was Remus… but she still wasn't going to give up that information easily. The Gryffindor boys were total arses, but Lupin was the least objectionable of them all.

'Why are you so obsessed about them anyway?' she asked, turning the conversation to safer ground. 'Why do you care what they're doing at night?'

'I'm just trying to show you that they're not as wonderful as everyone thinks they are.' He stared at her. It went on for a bit too long, and she blushed.

'They don't use Dark Magic though,' she said, wanting to end an uncomfortable moment. She almost whispered the next part, as if she was not quite sure she really dared say it. 'You're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow and James Potter saved you from whatever's down there-' (This was a bit of a shot in the dark, she only knew the same rumours as everyone else, and they were vague and contradictory, as rumours at Hogwarts always were. But she could tell from Severus's face that her shot had landed home.)

'Saved? Saved?' he spluttered, his whole face contorting in outrage. 'You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends' too! You're not going to - I won't let you- '

'Let me?' her eyes narrowed dangerously. ' Let me?'

He backtracked. 'I didn't mean - I just don't want to see you made a fool of - he fancies you, James Potter fancies you!'

If Lily reacted at all to this news, Sev did not see it, as he was so lost to his diatribe. 'And he's not… everyone thinks… Big Quidditch hero -' he was spluttering and incoherent as he tried to explain his total (and justified) loathing of Potter.

But Lily just stared at him with her eyebrows raised. 'I think James Potter is an arrogant toerag. I don't need you to tell me that. But Mulciber and Avery's idea of humour is just evil, Sev. Evil . And I don't know how you can be friends with them.' She pushed away from the pillar and began to walk across the courtyard.

Severus followed her, but he did not listen to a word of her admonishment of his friends. Ever since she had insulted Potter, Snape was walking on cloud nine. He followed her around in a happy daze until it was time for him to go in for his detention.

After he was gone, Lily returned to her common room, but she did not work. Instead, she stared into the flames and chewed on her lip - wondering if she had got through to Severus at all, and whether he really could be saved.

…

Snape was not the only person thinking of tackling things head on, that evening. After James had gone to his Quidditch practice, and Peter had disappeared to the library, mumbling something about vanishing spells being the death of him, Sirius put down his book - stared at Remus for a moment and then said - 'Do you want to go for a walk?'

'Don't you have a detention to go to?'

'Walk me?'

'What if I get caught out of bounds by Filch?'

'You're a prefect; flash your badge and tell him you're patrolling. You didn't used to worry about getting into trouble, Moony.'

'I didn't used to be a killer,' Remus mumbled - but he was quiet enough that Sirius could pretend he did not hear him, and in the end he agreed. 'Alright - I'll come with you.'

But although they walked together all the way to McGonagall's office, things remained awkward between the pair and silence hung heavy over both of them. Making things worse, every time they passed a window they caught a glimpse of the fresh water tanks still containing dazed and custardy Grindylows and semi conscious mer-people, yet another reminder of the madness of Barking Mad Black and the disasters which followed in his wake.

Sirius glanced at Remus, covertly, out of the corner of his eye - trying to get a good look at Moony's expression and work out from there what he was thinking. But Remus was inscrutable, and giving nothing away.

'I know you haven't really forgiven me,' Sirius said at last, as they reached Professor McGonagall's office and he knocked on the door.

'I have… Everything's fine.'

'It's not. I know it's not. But it will be. I will make it up to you, Moony, I promise.' And - as McGonagall opened the door, Sirius gave Remus a wink, flashed him a grin - and disappeared inside… leaving Remus feeling rather flustered.

'Good Evening, Professor, you are looking lovely as always,' he heard Sirius say from the other side of the door and then Big Macca answer:

'Young man - you are already skating on very thin ice. Do not try to flatter me.'

Despite himself, Remus started to smile.

'Oh, Miss,' he heard Sirius say sorrowfully, 'you missed an opportunity to say I was running on very thin custard… I'm disappointed in you.' And - snorting up his sleeve - Remus turned and ran back to Gryffindor Tower.

…

Now that the International Schools were less than a week away from arriving, Hogwarts found itself under a strict cleaning regime, the likes of which the students had never seen before. They could barely walk inside the castle, after a Care of Magical Creatures lesson or a stroll around the lake, without Filch appearing right behind them (uncomfortably close sometimes), wheezing, clutching a mop and muttering about what he would like to do with anyone who dared to besmirch and befoul the castle with mud.

The portraits were scrubbed; several decades of grime being cleansed away in a matter of minutes (though the inhabitants seemed none to pleased, and sat there patting their raw and exposed faces as if they felt suddenly vulnerable without a protective layer of dirt), the banisters were polished, the beams dusted and the suits of armour buffed until they shone.

Filch even presented a petition to Dumbledore asking for the expulsion of Peeves, on the grounds that he caused mayhem, mischief and madness everywhere the caretaker and army of House Elves were trying to clean, and - more besides - he stuck chewing gum in keyholes.

'A serious crime, indeed,' Dumbledore said when he read this last part, 'however the last Headmaster who agreed to attempt to expel Peeves from the castle himself wound up locked out and sitting on the lawn, shaking his fist, while Peeves took possession of the whole school and ran amok with a blunderbuss, taking potshots at the students. A wise man knows when he is beaten, Argus - but I shall vanish the chewing gum and have a word with Peeves about reining himself in for the time being.'

The delegations from the other schools were due to arrive on Thursday - the day before Hallowe'en - and a notice was put up on the board in the Gryffindor common room announcing that lessons would end half an hour early so the students could go out and meet their guests.

'That doesn't do us any good,' James said rather glumly, once he had read it. 'We finish early on a Thursday anyway - ready for Astronomy in the middle of the night. That's just our luck!'

But though he remained inclined to grumble, there was a sense of excitement and anticipation running through the corridors and making the very air crackle and - as a member of the all important Hogwarts Quidditch team - James soon found himself to be very popular indeed, and almost as much of a hit with the ladies as Sirius was.

'It must hurt,' he smiled smugly, preening over his reflection in the back of a spoon one morning, 'to no longer be flavour of the month. Now I've stolen all the girls…'

'Take them - I don't want them,' Sirius shrugged.

'Just remember to share them,' Peter said. 'Right, Remus?' he cast his sharp glance onto Remus, who looked flustered and said:

'Oh - er - I'm not really bothered. You two can keep them.'

'What's wrong with you two?' James asked, exasperated, slamming his spoon down. But neither Sirius or Remus answered him. They glanced at each other, and then quickly looked away (Remus having to fight down a blush).

Professor McGonagall was getting flustered as well (though not over girls). 'Please don't let anyone from Durmstrang see that you cannot perform even a simple switching spell,' she snapped at Peter in Transfiguration on Tuesday, when he accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.

Professor Slughorn told them that the students of Ilvermorny would laugh if those from Hogwarts could not make a perfect Dreaming Draught; Professor Flitwick claimed that the students of Mahoutokoro could conjure water, wine and wasabi from a very young age and would look on the OWL students woeful attempts at making pumpkin juice pour from their wand tips with scorn; Professor Sprout told the whole class that anyone who studied at Castelobruxo would have more of an affinity for plant tending and growing in one little finger than any of them had in their whole body, and Professor Carnarvon said of her own old school, Zarr Sagal, that they knew a thing or two about the Dark Arts which would put hairs on your chest just listening to them. (This made Remus frown over his essay on slow acting curses; not only was he very much used to sprouting fur all over his body, once a month, but he had recently noticed one or two golden brown hairs appearing on his chest, even away from the moon's influence… He was not too happy about this development and hoped it would go no further.)

'I can't help but notice,' Sirius said, on Wednesday night, when they were up in the dorm, 'that we're continually told that Hogwarts is the finest school of wizardry there is… right up until some other schools are about to visit and then we're all a bunch of mentally subnormal cretins who can't possibly compare to the magic and wonder of the Eastern Europeans or whatever.'

'They're just jittery,' James said wisely. 'Worrying that we'll show them up. But we won't - we'll win at Quidditch and prove to every magic school in all the world that Hogwarts is now and forever number one.'

'And if that fails, you can just drown them in custard, Sirius,' Peter added. ' "That'll put hairs on their chest" ,' he said, imitating Professor Carnarvon's voice.

James and Sirius laughed. But Remus - who had been avoiding everyone's eye and pretending to read anyway - grimaced a bit and stared all the harder at his page. The tips of his ears went red. Sirius noticed - and frowned (he thought it was the custard remark which had made Remus stony faced - as he did not yet know about the chest hair situation, and Moony's utter mortification over it).

Finally, Thursday dawned - crisp and clear. The sun shone brightly on the surface of the black lake (and the last of the merpeople were restored to their homes, their tanks being vanished before the delegations could arrive), the leaves of the trees down in the Forbidden Forest were a glorious riot of oranges and golds and reds and the castle itself had been cleaned inside and out, the dirt of ages banished for good, while a banner sporting the Hogwarts crest fluttered on the battlements. This was Hogwarts at its finest. Inside, the students had been bullied by staff into smartening up as much as possible, and there was not so much as a hat out of place.

Meanwhile, all the girls who had not been won over either by Sirius's good looks or James's Quidditch heroism (Lily among them) were busy discussing what they thought the foreign boys would look like, which ones would be the most handsome and who would have the most attractive accents.

'I bet the Aussies are really tanned,' Lily said. 'And I bet they say "G'day".'

'The ones from Latin America will be very romantic,' Mary told the others (she was something of a self professed expert on boys and, though she had always had an eye on Sirius, did not feel the need to limit herself to something so humdrum and homespun when there were male specimens of a more novel nature on the table). 'And they probably all play guitars, whereas the ones from Russia will be mysterious. They'll have thick eyebrows - and accents - but you won't have any idea what's going on in their heads.'

'What about the normal American ones?' Mandy asking, hanging on every word.

'Well, they will be very tall and have blindingly perfect teeth, like movie stars.'

'What's a moo vee star?'

Mary rolled her eyes.

'I'm less bothered about what they look like and more bothered about how they play Quidditch,' Petra said, buttering her toast.

'Yes - but you care a little bit about what they look like,' Lily teased, and Petra blushed and they all began to giggle.

'Disgusting,' James said to the others, shaking his head. 'Talking about these boys like they're pieces of meat.'

'You're just jealous that Evans isn't talking about you,' Sirius told him.

'I am not!'

'You'd be perfectly happy for her to treat you like a piece of meat - no complaints whatsoever.'

'Oi!' James flicked a teaspoonful of jam into Sirius's face.

'OI! ' Sirius tipped the milk jug over James's lap.

'Oi!'

'Gentlemen!' They both looked up in alarm, from where they were fencing with butter knives, to see Big Macca standing over them, glaring. 'Act like this in front of our guests and I can assure you neither of you will see the light of day again until at least sixth year.'

They murmured their apologies, gathered their things and headed for Arithmancy, while Remus and Peter went to prep. Arithmancy was quite fun for once, as Professor Vector allowed them to use the numbers to try and work out whether or not Hogwarts would win the Quidditch Tournament.

('Oh dear,' said Lily, frowning at her own equations, 'this says we'll lose our very first match.' But James was quick to assure her she was doing her sums wrong and they would win 220 - 30.)

It was Defence Against the Dark Arts next, then Sirius and Remus had Muggle Studies, and then finally it was Herbology before the fifth years were free for the final hour, as they had Astronomy later that night. They trudged up from the greenhouses, got a wash and combed their hair (and, in the girls' case, fixed their makeup) before the early bell rang telling the students that lessons were over for the day and they were to make their way to the entrance hall to greet their international guests.

The Heads of Houses were organising their students into lines. 'Pettigrew, straighten your hat,' Professor McGonagall snapped at Peter. 'Miss McDonald, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair.'

Mary scowled as she removed a large, ornamental butterfly from her curls.

'Follow me, please,' called Professor McGonagall, once everyone was ready to her satisfaction. 'First years in front… no pushing…'

They filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and the waning moon hung pale and transparent above the Forbidden Forest. Shivers of anticipation ran up and down the crowd.

'How are they getting here?' Sirius asked, when they had stood there for several, long moments and nothing had happened.

James' brow furrowed, 'No one has ever said.' He said eventually. 'Train?'

Several more minutes passed; Remus shivered inside his cloak, hoped the whole thing would hurry along at a faster pace, and tried to ignore the way Snape kept staring at him from his place among the Slytherins.

Yet more time dawdled by, the sun sank lower, the sky grew dimmer until - at long last - Dumbledore said, 'Ah, I believe Durmstrang is arriving.'

Heads whipped around, necks craned and an excited murmuring broke out - but there was nothing to see, and it seemed like either Dumbledore was mistaken or Durmstrang were going to appear out of thin air, until Callum Brown shouted, 'The lake, look at the lake!'

Everyone peered (Pete stood on his tiptoes, and dug his sharp elbows into Ellis Stebbins to nudge him out of the way, so he could get a better view). From their position at the top of the lawn, they could see that the smooth surface of the black lake was now disturbed - bubbles were forming, ripples circled out, mounting into great waves which washed up against the muddy banks, and then - out in the very middle of the lake - a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor.

What seemed to be a long, black pole rose out of the very heart of the whirlpool … and then Remus saw the rigging. 'It's a mast,' he told the others.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as if it was a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering in the portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank.

'And hot on their heels, here comes Ilvermorny - look to the skies,' Dumbledore called.

Everyone craned upwards, as a strange whining, whirring noise rent the air - and then a great, silver airship, a stately zeppelin which gleamed beneath the moon, floated over the castle, like a spectral balloon - almost silent, save for the propellers, and made eerie because of it. The students below pointed and gasped. But no sooner had the airship began to descend then the ground began to quake beneath their feet. There was a rumbling like thunder, and a burst of distant flame.

'The Russians are here,' Dumbledore had time to say, before rough and splintery minecarts being pulled by dragons came pounding up the drive. Sparks from the iron wheels flew into the air, bright orange and dangerous looking, matching the sparks which emitted from the dragons' snouts. 'They have come from under the mountains,' Dumbledore said, calmly - as if the students of Koldovstoretz had turned up in nothing more unusual than the thestral pulled carriages.

But Sirius knew a rare species when he saw one. 'They're Ukrainian Ironbellies,' he said pointing at the dragons. 'Big buggers - even for Dragons.' And they were curious looking too - pale skinned and milky eyed, as if they had lived too long underground.

'Look at Hagrid,' Peter hissed, pointing to the giant gamekeeper, who seemed barely able to contain his excitement at the sight of the Dragons pulling the carts.

The Zeppelin landed, the Dragons pulled to a stop and, over on the lake, a plank was lowered to allow the Durmstrang students to disembark from their ship. The Hogwarts students had barely time to acclimatise to the excitement and spectacle, quiet had only just been regained, when there came the deafening sound of an elephant trumpeting and thunderous footfalls.

Alice Law screamed - as a gigantic, fiery pachyderm came bursting out of the Forbidden Forest and charged full pelt towards the assembled students. She was by no means the only one alarmed and there was some tussling, pushing and shoving as some students thought to break ranks and run away to safety. But Dumbledore called out 'Wait!' and everyone fell still - including the fiery elephant - which suddenly exploded into a red hot conflagration that vanished as quickly as it had appeared - burning away to nothing and leaving behind a shining, white temple with a burning door.

Wearing pith helmets and clutching brooms, the students of Vimoksha - the Indian school - stepped through the burning door one by one. The Hogwarts students burst into spontaneous applause at the sight.

'I believe our skies are about to be quite busy,' Dumbledore said - and sure enough a large, flying carpet, with a palace balanced on the back, and an even larger bird - a giant storm petrel - swooped through the air bringing with them the students from the Iranian and Japanese schools. They had no sooner landed than the skies clouded over; dark and stormy and ominous looking. Remus huddled even deeper into his cloak.

'Uagadou,' Dumbledore said simply.

A thick, black cloud formed directly overhead - forbidding - and threatening rain, which - after a long few moments in which the atmosphere thickened and the pressure dropped - suddenly began to fall in large, pearly drops. As the raindrops plummeted to earth, they seemed to swell - and then transform - no longer rain but animals: a lion, a zebra, a monkey, even a small hippopotamus… the animals landed with a graceful bounce (the Hogwarts students shrank back) and then - in a flash - they transformed once more, becoming a Quidditch team in flowing, colourful robes, all at once.

'They're animagi!' Peter shouted, above the noise of the admiring crowd. 'All Uagadou students become animagi!'

'Maybe they could give us some pointers,' Sirius muttered.

But then the earth began to rumble again. The ground shook beneath their feet, several students lost their balance and cried out, dragging their friends down as they fell and creating something of a domino effect. Fissures began to open up in the soil; dark cracks running from the base of the steps, through the gathered students and then out into the middle of the lawn. The rumbling intensified, louder and louder, until suddenly there was an explosion upward, a sudden fountain of mud and sod and soil and what looked like a giant beanstalk came shooting out of the ground and growing rapidly until it was ten feet, twenty feet, fifty feet into the air… And the leaves of a rubber plant unfurled, revealing a small and cosy wooden cabin perched in the uppermost boughs.

'Castelobruxo,' the boys heard Professor Sprout say approvingly, 'always have been a dab hand at Herbology.'

'Just Yeperenye left to go now,' Dumbledore said, checking his watch (which had no numbers but did have twelve hands). 'And - ah - yes,' he looked upward, 'here they come now.' There was a streak of light as a shooting star fell to earth, its tail breaking through and dispelling the storm cloud Uagadou had arrived by so that, even though it was almost completely dark by now, it suddenly seemed much lighter.

The ground burst into flames where the shooting star landed; a spitting hot fire which burned all the colours of the rainbow. Thick smoke curled upwards, separating out into what appeared to be smoke signals, which drifted away until they were a safe distance from the flames and then seemed to shimmer, expand and materialise into teenagers.

Now there were nine Quidditch teams, made up by the nine different schools, wearing a vast array of different colours and each carrying a top of the range broomstick, which they shouldered as they marched up the front steps and into the castle. The Hogwarts students applauded and cheered as the foreigners passed them (some of the newcomers grinned and waved, some looked apprehensively up at the turrets and spires, and some looked very grim indeed).

'Well that all seemed to go very well,' Dumbledore said, as he and Madam Hooch shook hands with all the International Quidditch coaches. He turned to go inside. 'Just time for the feast now.'

…

With sixty three extra students, and nine Quidditch coaches besides, the Great Hall was extra packed that night, and the different coloured robes - easily picked out among the black of the Hogwarts students - seemed to make the tables feel more crowded than they really were. The teams from Ilvermorny and Yepperenye had settled down at the Gryffindor table, and the girls listened out, in breathless excitement, to hear if any of the Australian boys said "G'day". (They did not.)

Remus found himself sitting next to a tall and strikingly handsome young wizard, in the blue and cranberry robes of Ilvermorny. He had a golden quiff of hair and the most alarmingly white teeth Remus had ever seen. 'Hiya, there, I'm Chester Chadwick - captain and chaser,' the boy said, holding out a tanned hand for Remus to shake.

'Oh - er - Remus Lupin,' Remus said, feeling more shabby than usual next to this dazzling creature.

'You play Quidditch?'

'No - James is on the team,' he indicated James - sitting across from him, who gave Chester a cheery wave. Chester glanced up, gave him a small smile, and then turned back to Remus without further ado. Sitting beside James, Sirius narrowed his eyes.

'That's a real shame - though we don't play much Quidditch at ol' Ilvermorny. It's Quodpot for us; Quidditch is pretty much seen as a girls game - a fruity, European sport…' (James began to choke) 'We're seen as quite queer fish for playing it back home. This is Bertram by the way, Bertram Aubrey.' (He indicated his team mate - and fellow queer fish - sitting next to him.)

'What happened to your face?' Bertram asked, goggling at Remus's scars.

'What happened to your's?' Sirius snapped at him. (There was - in fact - nothing wrong with Bertram's face.)

Remus flushed. 'Er - I got… cut.'

'I think a man should have scars,' Chester said. 'Shows he's lived a wild and exciting life. So - Remy - do you mind if I call you Remy? What do you do for fun around here? I can't tell you how excited I am to be here. I've never been overseas before - I can't wait to see how you do things in Merrie Olde England.'

'Hogwarts is in Scotland,' Sirius corrected.

Chester looked confused. 'What's "Scotland"? I thought we were in Britain…'

…

Just then, Dumbledore got to his feet and the Hall fell silent. The boys noticed that Jacob Scrabble, the Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports, had arrived and was now seated beside the Durmstrang Quidditch coach - a tall man, with sleek black hair and a goatee which he kept twirling around his finger to give it an extra curl.

'Good evening, good evening, guests and friends,' Dumbledore said, spreading his arms wide. 'I am sure the entire student body of Hogwarts joins me in wishing the warmest welcome to all our international visitors. From this point on, our home is your home, and we hope you will be most happy here, and find your time here an experience you will carry with you for the rest of your lives. For, though we meet in the spirit of competition, I hope you leave with the bonds of friendship wound tight around you. Now - I expect you are all hungry after your long journeys, so I do not wish to keep you waiting with my waffling - and everyone here, whether guest or Hogwartian, will want to know more about this tournament we are all gathered here to play. So, without further ado, I will hand over to the man of the hour, the man who made all this possible, Mr. Jacob Scrabble, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports for the British Ministry of Magic.'

There was polite applause, and Scrabble got to his feet, beaming. 'Thank you, Professor. Indeed, I have envisioned this tournament as a way to reach out and forge ties with our foreign friends, which in these times is more important than ever. And as an old Quidditch buff - I believe there is no better way to do this than through the beautiful game itself.'

He cleared his throat. 'The tournament, then, will be played in three rounds. All ten teams will enter the first round - and play one match each, meaning five games. We will choose who shall play whom by means of a lottery. The five winning teams shall go through to the next round, and the teams which came in sixth and seventh will play one further match to determine which of them will join the victors. Once six teams are selected, there will be three matches in the second round, and a further play off. Then four teams will go through into the semi finals, before it is whittled down to only two, playing for the glory of the International Quidditch School Cup.'

He paused as there was an outbreak of murmuring and excited whispers, and stood there smiling, waiting for it to die down.

'Some rules and technicalities, then,' he said, when he had absolute quiet once more. 'Each team has precisely seven players. Should one player become incapacitated or be disqualified, then their team will play as a six. It is up to each individual team as to whether they repurpose another player to fill in the role of the missing one, or if they play with that role unfilled.'

'What does that mean?' Peter hissed.

'It means if you lose a chaser or a beater you just suck it up, but if you lose a keeper or a seeker you need to use one of your chasers to play in the missing position,' James whispered back. 'But it's up to the team themselves to decide what's best.'

Up at the teachers table, Scrabble continued to address the students. 'In the event of a draw, after the snitch has been caught, the match will proceed to penalties. Each chaser will take one penalty. If, at the end of this, the score is still level the penalty shoot out will go to sudden death. The official rules as laid down by the ICWQC will be followed and each game will be refereed by a coach from a school not playing in that match to keep things nice and neutral. I really hope this tournament turns out to be a lot of fun for everyone, and I think that is all. Thank you.'

He sat back down amidst another round of applause, and then the feast appeared from nowhere, making the tables groan under their weight. The House Elves had outdone themselves this evening as - along with the usual Hogwarts fare (complete with mint humbugs) there was also a variety of international dishes. Curries and sushi and goulash and mashed bananas in a strange sauce, served on a leaf and labelled as "matoke", were served alongside the Yorkshire puddings, roast hams and potatoes (the boys avoided everything foreign and stuck to their meat and veg, but Lily and her friends gamely tried a bit of everything).

'Are these plates real gold?' Chester asked, picking up his own and looking at it wonderingly.

'Are your teeth real teeth?' Sirius snapped at him.

James and Lily were both disappointed to discover that the treacle tart usually served for pudding had been replaced with pecan and pumpkin pies. ('What use is this?' James grumbled), but Peter greatly enjoyed the Pavlovas.

Once they were all finished, and full to bursting, Dumbledore got back to his feet. 'I hope you are not all so stuffed your ears have stopped working,' he said with a twinkle in his eye. 'While we have been eating, the International Quidditch Village has been set up in our grounds. If our visiting teams would like to leave first, your coaches will escort you to your quarters… Hogwarts students, it is time to return to your common rooms.'

The benches scraped back, Chester called his team together and they followed Mister Wright, the Ilvermorny Quidditch Coach, out of the Hall.

The boys followed on more slowly, lingering in the entrance hall to peer out into the dark grounds, trying to catch a glimpse of the huts and tents (and the Castelobruxo treehouse, still high up in its rubber plant) where their foreign guests would be staying.

'I just hope these shelters are properly waterproof,' they heard Mister Kiwanuka, the Uagadou Coach, murmur to Mister Karkaroff of Durmstrang, as they walked past - leading their teams. 'Travelling by stormcloud is quick and easy, but it always brings about the most magnificent thunderstorms the very next day…'

Lurking near a suit of armour, Sirius gave a most un- Sirius like squeak (it was the sort of noise more commonly heard coming from Pete).

'What?' James asked him, utterly bemused. 'What are you cheeping at, you nutter?'

'Didn't you hear that?'' Sirius replied in a furious whisper; his eyes were shining. 'There's going to be a thunderstorm tomorrow… We're going to become animagi tomorrow!' And with that, he ushered his friends upstairs, posthaste, so they could do their animagus incantations before bed.

…

The boys spent the next day in a state of high tension and near hysterics (Remus and Peter) and anticipatory excitement and glee (Sirius and James). They spent the day anxiously watching the sky for any sign of the promised storm and failed to concentrate from Herbology at the beginning of the day to Defence Against the Dark Arts right at the end (and History of Magic was an interminable experience they honestly did not think they would survive).

Making things worse, the International students (especially the Americans) kept trying to be friendly at a time when Remus really did not have it in him to make polite chit chat. In his state of barely concealed panic it was all he could do not to hex Chester Chadwick out of his way (he really could not fathom why the Ilvermorny Captain kept seeking him out, but he supposed it was because he had been the first person Chadwick had spoken to and must seem like a friendly face).

By the time the final bell rang, and they left Professor Carnarvon's room, even Sirius was starting to look sweaty and grim, and Peter was trembling so badly he looked like he had hypothermia.

'It says we shouldn't all transform in the same place,' James said, when they were back in the dorm, and he consulted the notes they had made way back in third year when they were just starting out on their animagus journey. 'Because if one of us becomes something really big… it might be a tight fit.'

Remus closed his eyes and imagined Sirius becoming a silver backed gorilla for a moment, before he imagined him turning into a naked mole rat… and then thought that it might go wrong, and Sirius would get stuck with the head of a naked mole rat forever more. He looked rather sadly at Sirius's handsome face and imagined never seeing it again. 'It's not too late to back out,' he said.

'It is,' Sirius told him.

'It'll be time for the feast soon,' James said (despite having had a welcome feast the day before, they were still having the traditional Hallowe'en feast this evening and the Hall had been decorated with the traditional twelve gigantic pumpkins, this year carved into the ten schools' crests plus two golden snitches, to impress their guests). 'We'd better take the cloak with us, so if the storm starts up we can sneak out without anyone noticing. We'll transform in separate classrooms - and Remus can use the cloak to keep watch so we don't get caught.'

Peter gave a squeak of fear.

The skies had been overcast and gloomy all day, so it had never really felt light, but by the time they made their way down to the feast it was pitch black outside, and the enchanted ceiling was dark and forbidding looking - with no hint of the moon or stars.

Perhaps it was because they had had a feast just the night before, or perhaps it was because of his abject terror and their incipient law breaking, but Remus found he did not enjoy this feast half as much as he normally did - though Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for entertainment and the ghosts did their usual synchronised gliding to great applause.

'This place is just amazing,' Chester said to Remus, staring around at the Hall, wide eyed in wonder, while Remus fiddled with his fork and was unable to eat anything. 'Ilvermorny is a castle, and it's beautiful, I guess - but this place is so ancient, you know? Real gothic looking. I've never seen a Hallowe'en like this one.'

Remus mumbled something in response and then stared up at the ceiling - it was growing darker and darker still, the atmosphere seemed to close in around them - making the candlelight all the brighter, but seeming very small surrounded by the vast blackness.

And then, just when Remus's nerves were stretched to snapping point, and actual beads of sweat were pouring down Peter's face, the ceiling overhead was suddenly illuminated by a flash of light, a silver crack streaked through the night sky and was immediately followed by a loud rumble of thunder. While everyone else stared upwards in surprise, James pulled out his invisibility cloak, swept it over the four of them and they sneaked out of the Hall unnoticed.

…

Their first port of call was the dorm, where their animagus potions were stashed safely away in James' bedside cabinet. When he opened it up and took them out they were revealed to be a dark blood red. 'That's what they're supposed to look like,' Sirius said in satisfaction. 'Everything's going according to plan.'

Peter only squeaked in response. Remus felt sick, and wondered if he should try to dissuade them before it was too late.

'Remember,' James was saying, handing the potions to the other two, 'you do the incantation one last time. It will hurt and you'll feel an intense double heart beat. Then you drink the potion. Incantation first. Potion second. Got it? Our animagus form should appear to us then - we'll see it like a picture in our minds, I think. The instructions say we have to show no fear…'

'That's Pete doomed, then.'

'Sod off, Sirius!'

'And then we transform,' James finished up, ignoring the other two.

'Er - how do we transform back ?' Peter asked, looking decidedly green and as if he wished they had never started this in the first place.

'You just have to imagine yourself as you're supposed to look. It gets easier…'

Peter gave another squeak of fear… but the storm was grumbling away, lightning kept flashing across the skies, and they did not have time for second thoughts. Throwing the cloak over themselves once more, they left Gryffindor Tower and made their way to a fourth floor corridor where they could use three classrooms, one next to the other, to transform inside.

…

It felt very strange to Remus for him to be the one seeing his friends off while they turned into animals, for once and, although he was not the one about to transform, his heart beat faster and he felt more sick than he ever did at the approach of the rising full moon. They reached the classrooms, James ducked out from under the cloak and headed into the one on the right, giving them a cheery wave as he went. Peter headed into the classroom on the left, trembling like a leaf and looking like he wished very much to be anywhere but here… and then there was just Sirius left.

He ducked out from under the cloak, Remus pulled it from his own head and they stared at each other for a moment. 'Do - don't let anything go wrong,' Remus said in the end, his mouth was very dry and his voice came out as a rasp.

'Nothing will go wrong… Do you really forgive me?'

'Yes.'

Sirius grinned. 'I'll see you on the other side,' and he vanished into the middle classroom, closing the door behind him, while Remus tried not to think that this might be the last time he ever spoke to Sirius, that - from this night onward - Sirius would be stuck forevermore with the head of a naked mole rat, and that his sudden asking for forgiveness was a way of saying goodbye.

He shuddered, and then - on hearing footsteps headed his way - pulled the cloak back over his head and shrank back into the shadows, pressing himself against the wall so whoever it was would not bump into him.

A moment later, Professor Carnarvon came around the corner, her face was very serious and her wand was raised - the tip lit up by Lumos . Remus narrowed his eyes and watched her walk past him - completely unaware of his presence - and then continue on until she was out of sight. What, he wondered, was Professor Carnarvon doing, sneaking around the castle while everyone else was at the Hallowe'en feast?

…

Inside their separate classrooms, the boys raised the tips of their wands to their hearts and muttered - for one last time - 'Amato, Animo, Animato, Animagus', James brimming with confidence, Peter as a terrified squeak, and Sirius with a fierce level of determination, as if he had never spoken four more important words in his life.

The sudden fire which shot through their bones made them double up and fall to the floor, gasping and shaking. Peter cried out (and outside, lurking in the corridor, Remus heard him and worried frantically about what was happening) the sweat poured off him and his eyes stung with tears. James was faring little better, on all fours, unable to think straight as he was consumed with a fire in his veins and a pain the likes of which he had never felt before (and hoped he never would again). Sirius, likewise, had dropped to the floor and now rolled on his back, writhing in agony - and with just one thought seared into his mind " Is this what it feels like to be Moony, every month?"

Then, hot on the heels of the fiery pain, came the intense double heartbeat James had warned about. They had all started to feel the faintest traces of a double heartbeat when they did their incantations and - while it was a disconcerting experience - it at least meant they knew that the process was working. But this was no faint heartbeat - like a distant drum they were not quite sure they could hear; this was a desperate and powerful pounding of tandem hearts, like the hoofbeats of rampaging centaurs hammering inside their chests - making their whole selves shake as the ground shakes beneath a stampede.

It was with trembling hands, and a feeling that perhaps they had bitten off more than they could chew, that each boy raised the vial of potion to his lips and drank it down, hoping the agony would end soon.

James was so wracked by the unfamiliar and acute pains in his body - on fire and feeling like he was about to have a (double) heart attack - that he did not have time to feel a moment of fear, or even register it was happening, when a pearly white, misty image of a magnificent stag rose in front of his eyes. Its antlers stretched wide, and high into the air. It raised one hoof, as if in greeting an old friend. James squinted at it for a moment, peering blearily through the pain, feeling a sudden recognition he did not understand and then.. pop!

Although Peter was prone on the floor, panting and sure he was about to die, he was so overwhelmed by a stab of disappointment that he did not have time to feel fear when a tiny, ghostly rat swam into his field of vision. It looked at him with beady eyes, its paws like little hands clutched in front of it - and then it fell to all fours and scampered around in a circle, chasing its own wormlike tail. Peter watched it, feeling dizzier and dizzier as it ran faster and faster and then… pop!

Alone in the centre classroom, lying on his back and wishing for the pain to end, Sirius suddenly felt a large presence looming over him, pinning him down. He groaned and opened his eyes to take a look. A silvery, spectral and absolutely massive dog was standing over him. It threw back its head as if to woof joyfully, and then leaned down to give Sirius's face a great, big lick with its transparent tongue. Despite the pain, Sirius grinned… This was too perfect. He raised his head as far as he could, so he was nose to nose with the ghost dog. They stared deep into each other's eyes and then… pop!

The spectral dog was now a solid, flesh and blood one standing in the middle of the classroom where once Sirius had lain; gigantic, bearlike and jet black and… just as its ghostly counterpart had done, the massive and all too real dog threw back its head and barked in joyful triumph.