Author's Note: CW ableism

-x-

Remus was unable to go to Potions or History of Magic on Friday morning, since the sun didn't rise until eight, even though there were clouds covering the moon all night and he didn't transform; two months in a row with no transformation. He wasn't sure if he was lucky or that meant the next one would be really bad. Pomfrey showed up a little after eight to get him, and they didn't get back to Hogwarts until after History began. Since there was a free period after History, Remus was able to take a nap and eat breakfast before Defense started. The other Marauders were waiting outside the door so they could all give Remus hugs, which made him feel good.

"I've got amazing news," James whispered as they headed into class. "You have to say yes."

That was all he got to say before Charlemagne started, and Remus just hoped it wasn't a wild prank or anything bad. 'Amazing' to James could mean all sorts of things ranging from minor inconvenience to potentially life-threatening. After class, however, Charlemagne asked Remus to stay behind so whatever the news was would have to wait a little longer. After everyone left, Charlemagne shut the door and indicated for Remus to come closer.

"I wanted to know how you are feeling," he said, linking his fingers together as he propped his elbows on his desk. "You seemed quite… hmm… unfocused on Wednesday. Did… things go well the past two evenings?"

Remus felt strange to be asked about the full moon from Charlemagne. "Yes sir," he mumbled, tugging at the strap of his satchel with his thumb. "I'm sorry about Wednesday, I was quite tired. I hope I didn't cause any issue."

"Non, non!" Charlemagne shook his head. "There is no problem at all! I was merely asking because of concern. I am glad you are feeling well." He smiled before drawing in another breath. "I also want to thank you, for all the work you have done with Jean-Marie. His English has become very good. His grades here now match what they were at Beaxbatons, and it is due to your help."

He felt his cheeks going warm. "Thank you."

"In addition, I wish to speak to you about your own grades in my class."

"Have I done—did I mess—did I get something wrong?" he stammered, suddenly fearful. Did he forget to turn an assignment in?

Charlemagne held up his hand. "Do not worry yourself. It is the opposite. You are, without any doubt, the smartest one in your year when it comes to what I teach." He pulled several sheets of parchment out as well as scrolls; all of them with Remus's handwriting. "You are… what is the word… meticulous? You clearly have a deep well of knowledge within you of the… ahh… con… contents… no. Curriculum. Yes."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, not sure what to do with this praise. Or where it was going.

"I was wondering if perhaps you would be interested in next year helping me?"

Every inch of his body froze at the question and he was sure he heard wrong. Him? Help a teacher?

"With tutoring and aiding younger students if need be," Charlemagne explained. "If you were a seventh year student, I would ask you to become my teaching assistant."

It felt like his guts were being squashed together, and it took a moment for him to realize he needed to breathe. He felt dizzy and confused—more than confused. He knew sometimes a student was brought on as an assistant. Binns had two every year to help with the physical part of his job. Sprout usually had one, and this year Spring had started using one to help with the first years. He had never thought about becoming one himself, especially for a teacher who knew his secret. Especially-especially for a teacher who was clearly not very comfortable with his curse, like Charlemagne.

Though that was all moot. He was a third year, not going into his seventh, he couldn't become an assistant.

Yet…

"I—I'd like that," he managed to get out. "Next year?"

"I would ask for this year, however the school rules state the… ahh… official tutors and aides must be fourth years and up," Charlemagne said sadly. "Otherwise, I would wish you to begin immediately. But would you like that?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. He missed Study Group sometimes because he liked helping others, and he missed helping Mary Macdonald but he hadn't joined her and Lily for a long time and felt awkward butting in. "Even though I'm… you know…?"

Charlemagne blinked. "Why would I ask if I did not want you because of that?"

He blushed now for sure. "Sorry. I—er, I—"

"It is fine." Charlemagne stood up. "I wanted to ask now because I thought perhaps you could occasionally help me with grading papers for the rest of this term, like you did last term when you had the detention with me. I have asked Professor Dumbledore and he agreed. Oh, and Minerva as well, of course. I know you are busy taking every single class so… I wanted to make sure you thought this through."

"I—yes. I mean, yes. I mean—" He stopped, carefully taking in a deep breath, calming himself. "Thank you, sir. I would love to help. I really like doing that sort of thing." He thought over what Charlemagne said. "Only this t-term?"

"If things go well, perhaps we can continue next term as well. However, since your schedule is so full with so many classes and next term will have the end-of-term exams, it might not be as easy for you. But we can see." Charlemagne stood up and put a hand on Remus's shoulder, guiding him to the door. "Are you able to come in Sunday at three?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You are an excellent student when it comes to this class, Mr. Lupin. If it were not for your… circumstances… I could see you taking over this job after you graduate."

Now Remus smiled a sad smile. The desire to become a teacher was so strong and the knowledge he could never do it hurt him. "Thank you."

"Have a good day."

"Thank you, sir. You too."

The older students waiting to come into class brushed past him as he resisted the urge to bounce along, unable to stop the big grin on his face at least. He beamed at his friends when they approached him and quickly—quietly—told them everything Charlemagne had said. All three congratulated him and smacked his back, heaping praise on him.

"Helping him for the next couple of years, then an assistant in your seventh," Sirius said, ignoring Remus's embarrassed protests even though that is what he sort've hoped for. If Charlemagne lasted until his seventh year. Defense teachers didn't seem to last very long… but Dedenne left because of her issues with him, and Prewett left because he only agreed to teach one year. Charlemagne had neither, so hopefully he would stay on for another four years or more. Not just for his own selfish reasons; he liked Charlemagne, and thought he was a good teacher. He deserved to stay on for a long time.

"Now what was the amazing news?" he asked James.

James's eyes lit up and he pulled some strips of paper out of his pocket, waving it in Remus's face. "Say yes!"

"Not until I know what the 'yes' is for."

James finally held the papers still and Remus could see they were tickets. "It's for the Brothers Broombatic Blast!"

Remus took the tickets, having heard the name before. It was a sibling duo and their spouses who put on an acrobatic show using brooms. They were very popular in the USSR. "You're going?" he asked, knowing what was coming since he had been told to say 'yes'. Plus there were four tickets.

"We're all going!" Peter said before James could say anything.

"My parents got us all tickets. It's next Saturday, so we'd miss the Hogsmeade visit, but that's no big deal."

Remus handed the tickets back, all happiness from his talk with Charlemagne trickling away. "I can't. I'd need a guardian's signature to leave with someone else's guardian for the weekend, you know this."

Sirius clamped a hand on his shoulder. "It's not for an entire weekend, only a day. We'll go in to the Potters in the morning, go to the show, and be back before curfew."

"I'd still need my parents to agree, and—and they can't," he said, shoving his trembling hands in his pockets. He really wanted to go. It sounded fun, even just going away for a day with his friends.

James tucked the tickets back in his satchel, not seeming phased at all. "I thought of that. You don't tell them the truth. Tell your parents its—that—that Miss Fawley wants to take you somewhere—"

"They'd say no," he said without thinking and all three stared at him. "They—erm, my—my dad doesn't like Miss Fawley. If I used her as an excuse they'd definitely say no."

"Then say it's for school," Peter begged, tugging at Remus's hand.

"Get McGonagall to help," added Sirius, nudging him. "Come on, she'd help you."

He shook his head, backing away from them. "I couldn't ask Professor McGonagall to lie for me. Not that she would, anyway. It—it isn't right."

James sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Plan C then."

"Plan… C?"

"I forge their signature," Sirius said cheerfully and Remus gaped at him. "I can do it, I'm very artistic. I've already forged my parents' signature for it."

"N-no, I can't!" He chewed at his thumbnail, trying to ignore the pleading looks all three were giving him. "I want to go, I really do, I just—it isn't something that I can do. My parents…"

"Can't know you have friends," James finished in a strange voice.

Remus peered up at him through his fringe. "They worry about my safety."

"You're almost fourteen," Sirius said, "do they really expect you're spending all your time by yourself?"

Remus only shrugged in response. He figured his parents knew he sometimes talked to and spent time with other students but certainly not to this degree; not even half this degree. But he knew he was disappointing them and guilt crept in. Finally he dropped his hand and said, "Look, I—I'll figure something out. All right? I'll try to. But no forgery. Because that could get me in a lot of trouble. With my parents, I mean. And the teachers but—"

"All right, no forgery," Sirius promised.

"Did you really forge your parents signature?"

"Yeah, but if they find out they won't say anything or do anything with the teachers about it to save face," he said cheerfully. "It's a win-win situation."

X

Remus's plan of maybe talking to McGonagall was blasted out of the water that night. As the four of them went into the Great Hall for supper (James's practice had been switched around once again), McGonagall caught them and told them to follow her to her office. Her lips were in a tight line and anger radiated off her body.

They trooped into her office and took seats. Sirius immediately put his feet up on her desk and tipped his chair back.

"Mr. Black," McGonagall warned as she shut the door.

Sirius sighed and removed his feet from her desk, his chair thumping back into place.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" James asked innocently.

McGonagall sat down, her face stony. "Why?" she asked, glare sliding from boy to boy. "Why is it always you four?"

Remus focused on his lap, at his fingers messing with a piece of loose thread. He had told them they shouldn't do it but of course neither listened to him, and now they were all in trouble. Though he wasn't entirely sure how… they hadn't been seen, as far as he knew. Unless a portrait snitched.

"And why," she continued, focusing solely on James now, "biting?"

"Biting, Professor?" he asked sweetly.

"Miss Messinger is currently in the hospital wing due to a toilet biting her and refusing to let go. We had to take the entire toilet seat with us since it refused to let go."

James and Sirius broke off into snickers and giggles.

"This isn't funny," she snapped and they fell silent though were both trying not to continue. "Now. Do you want to explain yourselves?"

"Why do you think it was us, my dearest Professor?" Sirius asked in an attempt at a sultry voice.

"Because the spell used is very similar to one used in ages past on anti-thieving devices, such as the one that left a mark on Mr. Pettigrew's hand a few days ago," she said.

Remus tried not to groan. He hadn't known they were doing that! Only that they were trying to enchant a toilet seat to 'snap' at someone.

"Only it is very sloppily done. Amateur. Thank Merlin, otherwise it would have been worse for Miss Messinger," McGonagall continued. "As it is, there is every chance she'll need to stay in the hospital wing overnight due to the… bite. So I ask you: why?"

"It's only a coincidence," James said confidently.

"I stopped believing in coincidences when it comes to you and Mr. Black in your first year," she snapped.

Sirius sat upright. 'We had nothing to do with it. I promise."

"I also stopped believing in your promises around the same time," she sniffled before her gaze focused on Remus. He could feel her staring at him. "Mr. Lupin?"

He slowly looked up. "Y-yes, Professor?"

"Were you involved?"

He gulped, making a few stammering noises before Sirius said, "No, he had nothing to do with it."

She jerked her head to stare at him, now. "So you did do it?"

James gave a slight groan. "Yes," Sirius confessed. "Only not to that degree. We only wanted the toilet to laugh at whoever was sitting down on it. We never meant it to bite."

"Then why has it clamped down on Miss Messinger and refuses to let go?"

James spread his hands out. "I don't know! Perhaps someone else did that."

"So two different people put enchantments on the same toilet on the same day?" she demanded. "And the enchantment you didn't do happens to be similar to something that happened to Mr. Pettigrew less than a week ago?"

"I messed up the spell," James said. "It was only supposed to laugh. I swear. Something must have gone wrong. You know I'm better with Transfiguration than I am Charms."

"I'm the charming one, eh Professor?" Sirius asked with a wink.

McGonagall glared even more. "Three nights of detention."

"Three?!" James shrieked. "For enchanting a toilet to laugh?"

"For enchanting a toilet to bite," she said, her voice steely and frightening. "And I will be writing to your parents, not that that or detention ever seems to make a difference."

"It's a—a flat surface, it doesn't have teeth!" James argued.

McGonagall's lips went thin again. "Whatever you did to it has dug into her. She will have similar wounds as Mr. Pettigrew's hand."

"Wh-what about us?" Peter asked, as if hearing his name reminded him that they were in trouble too.

"I said three nights," she answered. Peter's mouth hung open and Remus's head jerked back up. "I know you two were involved," she said before either could argue. "You were both seen in the corridor of that lavatory less than half an hour before Miss Messinger was bitten."

"They were lookouts," James said and McGonagall looked down her nose at him. "That's all. They weren't involved at all with the enchantment. Or the planning."

She drummed her fingers against the desk for a moment. Then, "Very well. Only one night of detention for them, and I shan't write to your parents. Y—"

She was cut off by someone knocking on the door. "Professor, it's urgent," said a voice.

McGonagall went over and opened the door, revealing a Slytherin Prefect who began whispering in her ear. Remus heard every word and tried to tamp down on the nausea; they were about to get into a lot more trouble. McGonagall thanked the Prefect and shut the door. Her face was white with fury as she returned to her seat.

"Mr. Lupin, Mr. Pettigrew, an additional night of detention for you. Mr. Black, Mr. Potter—four more nights."

"WHAT?" James shrieked.

"Why?!" Sirius demanded hotly.

"It seems there was another toilet enchanted," she said through clenched teeth. "Only this time it was a young man who was bitten, and he was bitten… elsewhere."

Remus flinched at the thought and his friends squirmed a little.

"Are there any others you have enchanted to… laugh?"

"Only those ones," James muttered, rubbing his hair uncomfortably.

"The one nearest the Slytherin dorm."

"Yes, Professor."

She let out an unhappy, disappointed sigh. "You may go to supper now. And I suggest you do so before someone else comes and tells me you've done something more."

The four of them quickly left, Remus's insides twisting uncomfortably. His legs wobbled a bit as he tried to walk, and Sirius grabbed his arm to help keep him up. James began swearing as soon as the door shut while Peter tried apologizing, insisting it was his fault since he had gone to Pomfrey with the wound. Remus apologized as well, since he had told Pomfrey exactly what caused the wound. James shook his head, not mad or even annoyed at that; he said they'd probably have been caught anyway

"Seven nights isn't too bad," Sirius said brightly.

James began snickering. "Hopefully whoever the boy was was a Slytherin and he lost his todger. Hopefully it was Snivellus. Maybe we should go by the hospital wing and try to see—"

"I think we should go to supper," Remus cut in. "We might get in more trouble if we try to spy. Either way, I'm sure we'll find out who it was through gossip."

It wasn't Snape, as he was in the Great Hall when they went in. They tried to figure out who it could be, but there were over a thousand students and not everyone came to supper, so there was no way they could even make a guess. Later, they found out it was a Slytherin, but a fifth year and not one of the ones they particularly hated. Still, James and Sirius considered that a win.

X

Remus spent most of the evening in the library with Maji, working on their Defense assignment. Even though he wasn't doing the essays, Jha sat with them, helping out. After they were finished Remus asked to talk to Jha privately and once Maji left, he explained there was a ghost who didn't like to talk but wanted to communicate and could Jha teach Remus a few words or the alphabet to teach the ghost? Jha seemed really excited at the prospect and offered to teach the ghost himself, so the next day a little before lunch, Remus and Jha met up to go to Theodore. It took a while to find him and they needed to get the Fat Friar's help but finally they tracked him down.

Remus introduced the two, and Theodore's eyes went huge as Jha began talking. "My name is Nirav Jha. Lupin told me you wanted to learn some sign language? Talking with your hands?"

Theodore slowly nodded, his mouth a big 'O'. He pointed at Jha's hands then rubbed his own hands before shrugging. When the boys didn't understand, Theodore mimed putting gloves on.

"You don't need the gloves," Jha explained. "The words are made by my hands. The gloves are simply translators. If you and the person you're talking to both know the sign then they will understand what you're saying."

Theodore tried to communicate something else to them but neither could figure out what he wanted to say. Finally Theodore's shoulders slumped a little. "I… can… talk," he said slowly, hesitantly. "Don't… like to."

Remus was shocked. The most he had ever heard Theodore say out loud were his own name and a couple of single syllable words, and that was over the course of two and a half years.

"Then this will help, if you want to learn," Jha said after checking his notebook. Theodore nodded, looking relieved. Ages later, Remus found out Theodore had been worried it was wrong of him to learn sign language when he could talk he just didn't want to; he had been worried it'd be rude.

The three of them spent the next hour going over the alphabet which proved to be a bigger wall than they expected since Theodore seemed distressed about something involving the 's'. He kept trying to convey something neither could figure out. After a moment Theodore carefully positioned his hand to form four letters he already knew.

"L-o-n-g," Remus spelled out. "Long? I'm not sure… what you mean."

Jha looked at Remus who wasn't sure what Theodore meant, and the ghost seemed to get more frustrated. After thinking about it he spelled out, "long S" which didn't help any. Then made a curving motion with his hand, his fingers looking like they were holding a quill. Eventually Remus thought to get out some paper and his quill. Theodore acted like he was writing something and Remus followed him. It looked like an f without the crossbar and suddenly he realized what was going on.

"OH!' He smiled at Theodore. "Oh, I understand now. When you learned to write there were two different 's's used. We don't do that anymore. 'S' is the same letter however it is used." He turned to Jha. "Have you ever seen old documents where it looks a little like an 'f' is used instead of 's'? That's what he means."

"Oh!" Jha nodded. "I get it now."

"Siss?" Remus asked when Theodore spelled something with his fingers. Theodore tried again, putting pauses after the first and second 's'. "S is S? Yes, it's the same letter used," he reassured him.

They got through the rest of the alphabet without any more trouble, and then Jha taught them a few words. Thank you, question, and not now (for when Theodore wanted to be alone). By that point Theodore was tired (as was Remus, really) and didn't feel like continuing on any longer.

"Thank you," he said with his hands, grinning when Remus and Jha both knew what he meant. He drifted through the wall, going through the alphabet as he did.

Remus thanked Jha who promised it was fine, he was glad to help. He liked sharing sign language with people, and was happy someone wanted to learn. Happy that Remus wanted to learn too.

"Most people don't care," Jha said as they walked back to the Grand Staircase. "Even most of my family won't deal with me unless I have my notebook and gloves."

"That's awful. I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "I have it easy. I was lucky my family cared enough to buy me these things. The witch that taught me runs a home for deaf kids, and most of the students there can't really communicate with their families. There's a girl there who was completely abandoned by her family."

"Bloody hell." Remus thought for a moment then asked, "Are they magic?"

"Yes, but they can't learn like I do," he said, frowning. "Mrs. Evercreech helps teach control and wordless magic, but there's only so much they can do. Silent magic is very hard."

Remus nodded, never really thinking about the fact at their age magic pretty much only worked when you said the spells. "How… do you do spells, if it's okay to ask?"

Jha laughed. "It's okay. It's difficult. I have to focus very hard, and develop sign language for spells using only one hand. I do the spell name with my left hand while brandishing the wand with my right. My hands have to do both the signing and the wand movement so it usually takes a long time to get right." He hesitated, looking down. "Often it takes a very long time. I'm quite behind on most of the spells. But on the bright side, when we do learn silent magic I'll be way ahead of everyone since I'm already working on focusing on spells inwardly. I just wish spells didn't have to be spoken like that, you know? I don't even really understand why."

"It's the connection," Remus said without thinking and Jha raised his eyebrows after looking at his notebook. "We are born with magic in us, however we can't really intentionally use that magic without a lot of focus. We typically need a channel, which is our wands. But also a—a physical connection to the magic we use. It's like a triangle. Us, our wand, the spoken words. When we have enough control then we can lose part of the triangle while still maintaining that connection. Usually the spoken words, sometimes the wand."

Jha slowly shook his head. "You are way too smart to be a third year."

Remus ducked his head, smiling shyly. He muttered a thank you, and changed the conversation to their Defense project.

X

The rest of the day was spent with the other Marauders, except for an hour in the evening when Sirius had detention; not for the toilet thing, but for skipping classes the other day, one of the days Remus had been 'sick'. Honestly, with all their trouble-making he was a bit surprised McGonagall was going to let them leave the next Saturday. But she had given permission, even to Remus who didn't have his parents' permission yet. Of course if he didn't get it in time, he couldn't go… and he had no idea what to do about it. He promised James he was 'on it' but he just wasn't sure how to get it.

That night, as the others played Wild Adventures after midnight in the common room, Remus tucked himself into a corner to write to his parents. He chewed at his quill as he stared at the blank parchment before him. With the weather being like it was, he really needed to get it written and sent out as soon as possible to get a reply in time.

There was one possible route. But it was extremely manipulative, and he didn't want to do that to his mother. Even if he was still angry about them lying to him about his bite. Even if her last letter to him—which had come just before the full moon—was manipulative in itself, stating she didn't know how to deal with things if he didn't come home for the Easter holidays. She said she felt weak from not seeing him since summer, even though technically she had seen him a little during the term. When he stood up to them about the bite.

He sighed, sliding down lower in the chair as he watched his friends. Lily, Alice, and Cassie were playing too. This was the first time Sirius and Cassie had sat down near one another and weren't fighting. Judging by the looks they kept giving each other, Remus figured it would only be another day or two before they made up. He knew Sirius missed Cassie, and Lily had told him Cassie missed Sirius.

He faced the parchment again, thinking about how he'd feel if James, Sirius, and Peter got to go away for the day without him. Leaving him behind. He'd feel very left out, alone, and miserable; but that wasn't an excuse to manipulate his mother. Though with everything she—and his father—had done to him, they owed him something.

He bit down on his quill so hard some of the feather came off in his mouth and he spluttered it out, dragging his fingernails against his tongue to get all the scraggly, wet stuff out. He wiped them off on his trousers, making a face as he studied the quill. It would be very weird-looking now. Still usable, though. Like everything else he owned. All the used clothes—patched, too-big, worn-out. Used books, cheap ink, a satchel that was falling apart… and all their money problems blamed on him.

It felt like his line of thought kept bouncing around wildly inside his head, going from one thing to another, never following a straight line. Almost becoming tangled, like a ball of a yarn. But it kept going back to how he felt about what they did to him. Lied to him, all these years. The anger from weeks ago began boiling up inside him again as he heard his father's voice over and over in his head: we never lied to you, we never deceived you. But then he'd also see his mother, pale and crying. Sobbing. Clutching at Remus, apologizing over and over. Her letters asking him to forgive her for her part in the situation.

He was so confused that he wanted to throw the bottle of ink that sat on the table next to his chair. He wanted to throw the table and even the chair he was in. He couldn't even begin to explain the emotions raging within him, because they confused him too. Anger. Indignity, Hopelessness. Sadness. And betrayal. It felt like the wolf inside him kept clawing at him, and every time those claws dragged through his soul more emotions seeped out like blood; not giving him more wounds but revealing more wounds.

And as he thought about all this he could feel the wolf stirring. He quickly sat up, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long drink, trying to calm himself down before the fury overwhelmed him. He focused on happier things… like the possibility of seeing that acrobatic broom show with his friends. Leaving Hogwarts for a day. Being with his friends away from Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. Legitimately, not sneaking out or anything.

After the wolf settled down, Remus settled back as well, and began his letter.