Saturday 23rd December
After getting Sirius into bed to sleep off the alcohol, Remus retreated to the safety of his own four-poster and drew the curtains, flopping back onto his pillows with a groan. What an absolute disaster. How could he have taken advantage of Sirius' drunkenness like that?
He'd been saying such lovely things, but Remus knew relentless flirting was a major part of Sirius' personality, so of course, drinking would intensify that. Not to mention making him even more impulsive than usual. When Sirius had kissed him, he should have gently pushed him away and made a joke or something. Not kissed him back.
Merlin, it was an amazing kiss, though.
Sirius' lips had been so warm and soft against his, and the feeling of them moving—caressing him—was indescribable. He'd been completely lost to it until Sirius deepened the kiss, and he'd tasted the alcohol on his breath.
Remus rolled onto his stomach and hid his face in his pillow. Fuck, he was a terrible person. Whatever punishment Sirius dished out was well deserved, and Remus would take it without complaint. He just hoped Sirius didn't take away his friendship. The Marauders were his world. He wasn't sure what he'd do without them. There was Lily and the other girls, he supposed. They might let him join their group, and — Oh shit. Marlene!
Sirius had a girlfriend.
Remus screamed into his pillow quietly. Not only had he taken advantage of his friend, but in doing so, he'd hurt another friend. Gods, he was an awful, terrible, despicable person. He didn't know how he would face Sirius in the morning.
After a fitful night of tossing and turning, Remus forced himself out of bed to take a shower, and by the time he returned, all three of his friends were awake. He walked in while James was interrogating Sirius about his disappearance from the party the night before.
'—Me and Pete to do everything without you. What the fuck?'
Sirius groaned and held his head. 'Can we talk about this when my head's not about to explode?'
'Hey, I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you clean up,' Remus said, not looking at Sirius.
James waved him off. 'You get a pass. The moon was only two nights ago.'
'Does anyone even care that I'm dying?' Sirius asked.
'You're not dying,' Peter said. 'You're hungover because you were drinking. Drink some water and you'll feel better.'
'Finally, someone offers some help.' Sirius attempted to swing his legs out of bed, but groaned again and stopped. 'Can someone get me some water?' he asked in a pitiful voice.
Before Remus could decide between getting Sirius water and making up for his behaviour a little, or not getting it and therefore not having to look at him, James sighed and went to the bathroom, returning a minute later with a gobletful.
'Thanks, Sunshine,' Sirius said. And Remus could imagine him smiling at James, but he didn't look to confirm that was happening. Instead, he concentrated on packing what he would need for the holidays. With the full moon and the party planning, they'd all neglected their packing, and it wasn't long before James and Peter joined him, creating a somewhat frenzied atmosphere in the dorm.
Sirius remained in his bed, periodically groaning, for another hour, but eventually gave in to the pressure of the ticking clock, and got up to shower. As soon as he was out of the room, James appeared next to him.
'Did you and Sirius have a row last night?'
Remus continued folding jumpers so he wouldn't have to look at James. 'No, why?'
'Because you haven't even looked at him this morning, never mind spoken to him, and he keeps staring at you like you broke his favourite toy.'
Remus struggled hard to keep the cringe off his face. Was Sirius really looking at him like that? He must be so hurt that Remus had taken advantage of him. He needed to apologise, but he didn't want to do it in front of James and Peter. If Sirius hadn't brought it up, he obviously didn't want the others to know what had happened.
'I'm just trying to get packed. I don't know what Sirius' problem is.'
James didn't look convinced, but he let the matter drop and returned to his own packing.
Between the packing, eating breakfast, and hauling their belongings down to the Entrance Hall, there was no opportunity for a private conversation, and before Remus knew it, they were boarding the carriages that would take them to Hogsmeade train station. And therein he faced a dilemma. Should he sit next to Sirius, or facing Sirius?
Facing him obviously posed the risk of eye contact, and he was terrified of what he might see in the other boy's face. On the other hand, sitting beside him meant the possibility of being jostled against him when the carriage rolled over a bump, of which there were many on the road to Hogsmeade, and he couldn't bear the thought of feeling Sirius recoil away from him.
He hesitated for so long that the choice was taken out of his hands. The others all entered the carriage and took seats, leaving only the one beside Sirius empty. Avoiding his eyes, Remus climbed in, leaving as much distance between them as he could. It was almost like first year all over again, except he could feel James' eyes burning into the top of his head as he stared at his feet.
The awkward silence continued all the way to Hogsmeade, but once they were on the train and tucked away in the compartment furthest from the driver (and the prefects), James made it clear he'd had enough.
'Right, out with it. What the hell is with you two?'
'I don't know what you mean,' Sirius said. 'We're fine.'
James threw his hands in the air and all but exploded. 'Fine? How is this fine? You're not speaking to each other. Remus apparently can't even look at you. This isn't fine, Sirius. Fine, is you holding hands. Fine, is you laying with your head in Remus' lap while he strokes your hair. Fine, is you cuddling before the full moon because Remus likes your smell. This, this is so far from fine, it's on another planet!'
Remus finally looked up at James' last example of what he considered to be indicative of their relationship being fine. Had Sirius told him? 'How do you know about that?'
James scoffed. 'Oh, I have eyes Remus, and right now they're telling me something is very wrong with you both.'
'Just leave it, James,' Sirius said, his voice calm. 'Please.'
James went quiet for a moment. 'How can you ask me to do that?'
'Because this really is none of your business, and I need you to butt out.'
James' eyes filled with hurt, but Sirius had needed to be harsh. He just hoped James got the message and stopped trying to badger an answer out of them. Even though he desperately wanted to talk to Remus about what happened, he knew Remus was a private person, and he didn't want him being forced to talk about it with an audience. For Remus, he could be patient.
'Fine,' James said, finally. 'I'll drop it. But you two better sort out whatever this is. It can't be worth breaking up the Marauders over.'
'We're not going to break up the Marauders. Stop being dramatic. That's my job,' Sirius said, attempting humour to lighten the mood. Although he honestly wasn't sure he was right. If only Remus would look at him, he'd be able to tell something about what he was thinking. But he'd hadn't so much as glanced his way all morning. It was confusing and painful because he was positive Remus had kissed him back, only stopping because Sirius was drunk.
Remus had said they would talk about it when he was sober. He was sure of it. And now he wouldn't even look at him. So maybe he was having second thoughts and didn't know how to tell Sirius. And if that were the case, then Sirius wasn't sure he had it in him to carry on as if nothing had changed. So, no, he didn't know if this... this thing would break up the Marauders. All he could do was hope.
It was possibly the quietest train ride in the history of train rides. Instead of chatting and playing games, they each engrossed themselves in solitary activities. Remus was reading, but he didn't seem to be turning the pages as frequently as he usually would, which made Sirius think he was only pretending to read. But then Sirius was only pretending to draw, so he wouldn't judge him for it.
As they got closer to London, James reached into his luggage and handed them each an extravagantly wrapped gift with a subdued, 'Merry Christmas. I hope you like them.' which triggered everyone else to hand out their presents, and Remus met Sirius' eyes for the first time that morning as he handed him a thin rectangular parcel in shiny red paper. His eyes were full of apology and regret, and Sirius' heart clenched painfully.
As the train pulled into Kings Cross Station, Sirius hurriedly pulled the blind down over the window so he could say goodbye without risking his Mother seeing him consorting with half-bloods. He was hugging James when the door to their compartment opened.
'Thought I'd find you here,' Regulus said.
Sirius let go of James and turned around. 'What are you doing here?'
Regulus raised an eyebrow. 'I thought it would look good for you if we left the train together.'
Sirius sighed. 'You're probably right.' He glanced at Remus, but he was still avoiding his eyes, so he decided against a hug. 'I'll see you in two weeks, then.'
'Yeah, bye, mate,' James said. 'We'll wait a few minutes before getting off.'
'Thanks.' Sirius smiled at him. He really was lucky to have James. Despite their argument at the start of the journey, he still did whatever he could to keep Sirius safe.
'Bye, Sirius,' Peter said. 'Have a good Christmas.'
'Goodbye,' Remus said, still not looking at him. 'Stay safe.' That was something, at least. Remus still cared enough to want him to be safe.
'What was that about?' Regulus asked as they dragged their trunks down the train to the door.
'What?'
'All the awkward tension. It felt like a dinner party when you've just said something particularly antagonistic and the adults are trying to decide how best to punish you for it.'
Sirius chuckled at the analogy. 'It's nothing. Don't worry about it.' He wasn't about to get into his romantic problems with Regulus. His brother would never understand.
'It's definitely not nothing, but I won't press you on it,' Regulus said. They'd reached the door and Regulus paused and met his eyes. 'Are you ready?'
Sirius twisted the protection ring on his finger and nodded. 'As I'll ever be.'
'Come on, then.'
Regulus let him exit the train first, as was proper with him being the eldest. Sirius scanned the crowded platform as he stepped down, and when he locked eyes with his mother, he clenched his hands into fists to keep any emotion from showing on his face. She was standing apart from everyone else, her nose in the air and a sneer on her lips, wearing robes of dark green silk embroidered with silver thread and decorated with a row of silver buttons down the front.
Tearing his eyes away, Sirius turned to help Regulus depart the train with his trunk. 'She's over on the far-right. By herself. Guess she doesn't want to soil herself by getting too close to the rabble.'
Regulus laughed. 'Get it all out now, Twinkles. I'm counting on you to keep your mouth shut for the next two weeks.'
'Yeah, I got it. Best behaviour and all that shit.'
Regulus arched an eyebrow. 'You better not speak like that at home. Mother will have you back in speech tutoring by boxing day.'
Sirius laughed. 'By Salazar's teeth, spare me. Have I not suffered enough?'
Regulus nodded approvingly. 'Better.'
They fell into silence as they approached their mother, not wanting to risk her overhearing their conversation.
She smiled as they drew close, something Sirius only ever saw directed at him when they were in public. 'Sirius,' she said instead of any kind of actual greeting. 'Regulus. How was the train?'
'The journey was long and tiring, Mother,' Regulus replied. 'But it was worth it to see you at the end of it.'
She gave him a nod of approval and turned to Sirius, 'And you?'
Regulus had already used the best response to the question, but Sirius was prepared. 'The journey was inconsequential. Merely a means to reach the comfort of our home, Mother.' He was surprised he managed to get it out without choking on the words.
'Yes. I'm sure you're both eager to return there. Lowse.'
The house-elf appeared in front of her with a pop. 'Mistress called for Lowse?' she asked, bowing so deeply the tips of her ears touched the ground.
'Take my sons belonging home and deposit them in the appropriate bedrooms.'
'Yes, mistress.' The elf and their two trunks vanished with another pop, and Mother held her hands out to them. Sirius took it and they disapparated, squeezing through space momentarily, before appearing in the darkened drawing-room of their home.
Mother released their hands immediately. 'Dinner is in two hours. Until then, you may unpack your things, and wash up. You must be filthy from the train.'
It sounded like a suggestion, but Sirius knew it was an order. 'Yes, mother. I would like to freshen up, thank you.'
'I would, too,' Regulus said. 'Will we be having company for dinner this evening?'
Sirius wanted to shoot Reg a grateful look for asking the question he hadn't dared to, but he kept his face impassive.
'No. It will be just the family tonight. Mohld decided right before Christmas would be a good time to die, so we're a little short-staffed. It's quite inconvenient, but it wouldn't be such a problem if Kretin didn't keep bursting into tears over it. You'd think house-elves had feelings the way it's carrying on. I don't want it embarrassing me in front of guests.'
'Very well, Mother,' Regulus said, seeming to be undisturbed by her callous dismissal of the elf's death. Sirius was no fan of the elves. They had all participated in punishing him at one time or another, but part of him knew they were only following orders and didn't have a choice. Except Kreacher. Kreacher clearly enjoyed making him suffer. But after spending so much time with the elves at Hogwarts, he knew they had feelings.
'Were Mohld and Kretin a couple?' he asked without thinking. Regulus frowned at him, giving a minute shake of his head.
'Relationships are for humans, Sirius,' his mother chided. 'You know this. Not for animals, and certainly not for vermin. But I believe Mohld was pregnant. If only it had stayed alive long enough to birth the thing, we'd already have a replacement.'
Sirius felt sick. Kretin wasn't just mourning his partner, but also his child. Regulus jerked his head at the door. 'Apologies, Mother. My fatigue must be affecting my brain. I'll go and freshen up now, as you so wisely suggested.'
She smiled, and it made Sirius' nausea increase. Merlin knows how he was going to survive two weeks of making his Mother pleased.
They climbed the stairs in silence, But Regulus stopped him before entering his room. 'Two minutes, Sirius, and you already said something stupid. Please try to think before you speak.'
'I'm sorry, but don't you care? She acted as if the elf died on purpose just to annoy her.'
'Of course I care,' Regulus hissed. 'The elves were my only company all of last year. Mohld used to play chess with me,' his voice broke a little, but he composed himself faster than Sirius could blink. 'But you can't show Mother that. Stop being such a Gryffindor.'
Biting his lip, Sirius shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 'Sorry, Reg. I'll try harder. Promise.'
Regulus let out a breath. 'Thank you. Go take a bath, and wear your best dress robes to dinner.'
Sirius rolled his eyes. 'I know. I had the same lessons as you, you know?'
'Did you?' Regulus asked, smirking. 'It's so difficult to tell.'
James, Remus, and Peter waited in the train compartment for a full three minutes after Sirius had left to make sure his mother wouldn't think they were together. While he was waiting, James watched Remus reading. He'd been watching Remus and Sirius all day. Sirius was emotionless, a blank mask, except for when he looked at Remus. His usual energy was diminished. James might have put that down to the fact that he had to go home for Christmas if it wasn't for the way Remus was avoiding him. For his part, Remus was fidgety, clumsy, and avoidant of eye contact. Exactly as he was every full moon of the previous year.
They were hiding something. And James did not like it.
But Sirius had asked him to stay out of it. And he would. That didn't mean he couldn't try to work out what the problem was, though.
'Sirius is an idiot for drinking last night,' James said, watching Remus carefully to gauge his response.
Remus fumbled the turning of the page. So it was about the drinking then.
'Yes. But did you really expect him to do anything else?' Remus asked.
Was Remus annoyed Sirius was so impulsive? That didn't seem right. Remus usually found Sirius' lack of forethought amusing.
'I told him he shouldn't, but he ignored me,' Peter said. 'Just kept drinking it.'
'Maybe he needed to get the defiance out of his system before he went home,' Remus said with a shrug.
Why was he making excuses for him? Maybe it wasn't about the drinking after all.
Remus closed his book and popped it into the top of his trunk. 'I think we've waited long enough. I'll see you guys in two weeks, yeah?'
James hugged him and said goodbye, before grabbing his own trunk and heaving it from the train. They reached the platform, and both looked around for their parents. James spotted his mum and dad, and waved, just as Peter pointed in the opposite direction.
'My mum's over there.'
James looked and saw the same woman who'd picked Peter up the last two times. She looked awfully young to be Peter's mum, but James knew his parents were older than most when they had him, so he probably wasn't the best judge.
He hugged Peter goodbye and wished him a merry Christmas, and then he was in his mums' arms, and she was raining kisses down on his head. 'I missed you.'
He hugged her back. 'Hi, mum. I missed you, too.'
Releasing him, she stepped back to look him over. 'He's grown, Monty. Don't you think he's grown? We'll need to get you new robes for next term.'
'Let's worry about that after Christmas, shall we? It's good to see you, James.'
James grinned and hugged his dad. 'Missed you, dad.'
'Missed you, too. The house is so quiet without you. So let's go fill it with noise, shall we?'
His dad apparated him home, and his mum appeared next to them with his trunk a moment later.
'Right then,' she said. 'Why don't you put your things away and then come and tell me everything that's happened.'
'Dinner will be ready in about an hour and a half,' his dad said, waving his wand to levitate James' trunk. 'I'll take this up to your room for you.'
'Thanks, dad. Mum, can we talk in the kitchen so dad can hear everything too?'
'Of course,' she said, smiling. 'But go unpack first.'
'Alright, I'll be super quick.'
James launched himself from the room, overtaking his dad on the stairs, and ran into his bedroom. 'Hurry up, dad! I've got so much to tell you,' he yelled back down the hallway.
'I'm not as fast as you,' his dad grumbled. 'Give me a chance.' His trunk floated into the room a moment later, and his dad followed right behind it, lowering it to the floor before turning his wand on James. 'Right, you little scamp, come here,' he said. 'Rictumsempra.'
Without even thinking, James dodged the spell, diving for cover behind his bed. 'Ha, you'll have to do better than that, dad.'
His dad hummed. 'Seems you got fast at school. I'll just have to cast quicker then.' As he spoke, he rounded the bed, trapping James in the corner. 'Rictumsempra.'
James rolled under the bed and out the other side, mentally thanking his mum for making him clean it out at the end of summer. The second he was clear, he jumped to his feet and ran from the room. 'You'll have to catch me first!'
'Rictumsempra!'
The spell whizzed past his ear as he rounded the doorframe and sprinted down the corridor, and he cackled madly, looking for somewhere to hide. He'd missed doing this with his dad. Dashing into the first open door he came to, he closed it behind him as quietly as he could and looked around. He was in a guest room and the only furniture was a big four-poster bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a bedside table, and there was a second door leading to a bathroom.
James climbed inside the wardrobe and hunkered down.
A minute later, his dad's voice came from outside. 'I know you're in here, Jamesie. Come out, come out wherever you are…'
With laughter building inside him, James bit down on his fist in an attempt to keep quiet, but it wasn't enough, and he let out a loud snort.'
'A-ha!' His dad said, flinging the door open and grabbing James by the ankle to drag him out. James tried to kick him off but to no avail. He was trapped. 'Rictumsempra!' his dad said, pointing his wand at the centre of his chest, and James was immediately overcome with an overwhelming tickling sensation over every inch of his body. He curled into a ball and held his sides as he laughed, tears streaming down his face.
It was barely five seconds before he cried, 'Mercy, mercy.'
His dad immediately lifted the charm and offered James a hand, pulling him into a hug once he was on his feet. 'It's good to have you home, son. But best go do what your mum said, now.'
James grinned and skipped to his room to unpack. It was good to be home.
After saying goodbye to James, Peter dragged his trunk over to where his mum was waiting for him with their neighbour.
'Hi, mum. It's good to see you. I thought you might stay home.'
She looked at him vaguely, with cloudy eyes that didn't focus. 'Peter, is that you?'
Peter sighed. 'Yes, mum, it's me. Let's go home, yeah?'
'You came back.'
'Yes. I came back just like I said I would.' He really wanted to get her home before someone noticed the state she was in. 'Let's take the floo, yeah? Come on, it's this way.'
'It's alright, Peter. I've got her,' Arabella said, smiling at him kindly. 'I wouldn't have brought her, but she insisted on meeting you off the train. Missed you terribly, she has.'
Peter felt a wave of guilt like he always did when he thought about his mum missing him. He could have studied at home and stayed with her, but he'd so badly wanted to escape the responsibility that when Arabella had offered to nurse her if he wanted to go to Hogwarts, he'd leapt at the chance. Selfish is what he was.
Dragging his trunk behind him, he followed his mum and Arabella over to the floo bank at the back of the platform, and they joined the queue. Thankfully, it moved quickly, and they were soon at the front of the line.
'You go first,' he said to Arabella. 'Mum looks worn out.'
'Come on then, Ida,' she said, gently guiding his mum into the fireplace. A burst of green flame later and Peter was alone. He held his hand under the floo powder dispenser and waited for his fist to fill with the emerald green powder before shoving his trunk into the fireplace and stepping in after it.
Green fire blazed up around him and he closed his eyes against the blur of images, not opening them until the fire spat him out of his own hearth. Stepping out quickly, so he wouldn't be burned when the powder ran out and the safe green flames turned back to hot orange ones, Peter took a quick scan of the room and groaned.
The living room was a tip. The two sofas were so covered in piles of stuff that they couldn't be used—stuff being everything from clothing to the family portrait that should be on the wall above the fireplace. Dirty crockery, trash, and bits of food littered the floor, and everything was dusty.
It would take him all day to get this place clean enough for his dad's family arriving on boxing day. How had his mum made so much mess in just a few months?
'You alright there?' Arabella asked. She'd got his mum settled in the only useable armchair and was now looking at him with concern.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair—a habit he'd picked up from James. 'Yeah, just a lot of work to do, isn't there?'
She frowned and looked around. 'There's a fair bit needs doing. The kitchen's not too bad, I kept that nice for you. I have my own house to keep, too, though.'
'Oh. No. Bella. I'm sorry. I wasn't complaining. Not at all. You offered to look after my mum, not clean my house. And I wouldn't be able to go to Hogwarts at all if you hadn't. Please don't think I'm not grateful. I am. Really.'
'I know you weren't. I just feel bad that you have to come home to this. You must have been looking forward to relaxing a bit.'
Peter shrugged. 'To be honest, I get more rest at school.'
She laughed. 'Well, I need to get home and start Mr Figg's dinner, but I'll come by for a cuppa tomorrow, shall I? You can tell me all about school, and I'll give you a hand to get this place in order. It'll be done much faster with two of us.'
'Oh,' Peter said, surprised. 'You don't have to do that. You already do so much for us. I'll manage.'
'I know you will. You're a very capable young man. But I want to hear all about Hogwarts, and this is my excuse.' She picked up her bag and hooked it over her shoulder before walking to the door. 'I'll be over around eight. Make sure the kettle's on.'
Peter smiled, a bright warmth filling his chest. 'I will Bella. And thanks, again.'
She waved his thanks away. 'Happy to help,' she said and disappeared through the door. A few seconds later, Peter heard the bang of the front door closing. After checking on his mum, who was fast asleep in the armchair, he took his trunk up to his room, shoving it into a corner. He wasn't going to bother unpacking. It wasn't worth it, and he had far too much else to do.
His room looked much as he'd left it, if a bit dustier. The single bed was tucked into one corner, the bedding stripped and neatly folded at one end. He made a mental note that he'd need to put fresh sheets on it before he could sleep. His desk, under the window, was scattered with parchment—mostly potion notes, but there was some paperwork there, too. He walked over and opened the window, reaching through to unlatch the Owl Post box. As expected, there was a stack of mail inside, and he took it out with a groan, sifting through it.
The St Mungo's seal caught his eye, and he took a seat at his desk to read it. They wanted his mum to come in for her annual check-up on the 2nd of January. That should be fine—he didn't go back to school until the 6th—but it needed to be before his ministry appointment. Sifting through the post again, he found the one with the ministry seal and ripped it open. They'd made him an appointment for the 4th, brilliant. That was one less thing to worry about.
He eyed the stack of letters that were left. A few were from old friends of his mum, but most were from companies, The Floo Network, Wizarding Wards Ltd, Slug & Jiggers, and a few from Gringotts. No, he couldn't deal with all that right now. There were more pressing things to worry about, like whether there was anything for dinner.
Peter checked on his mum again before entering the kitchen, but she was still asleep. As Arabella had said, the kitchen was spotless. The shiny black counters gleamed in the dim winter light filtering in through the net curtain and there wasn't even any crockery on the drainer. He was smiling as he walked to the fridge. Arabella really was a wonderful woman. He upgraded that assessment when he saw the dish of cottage pie sitting on the fridge shelf just waiting to be popped into the oven.
Arabella was nothing short of a goddess, and she deserved to be worshipped.
Remus dragged his trunk off the train and looked around, eventually spotting his mum waiting near the Floo bank. Sirius was nowhere to be seen, so his family must have already left. Hopefully, he'd be able to keep out of trouble for two weeks, but if he did mess up, he had the protection ring.
'Hi mum,' he said when he reached her.
She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. 'Hi, sweetheart. I missed you.'
'I missed you, too,' Remus said, pulling back and smiling up at her.
She steered him towards the nearest fireplace, and they joined the back of the queue. 'Let's get home then, and you can tell me all your news.'
When they stepped out of the fireplace in the living room of their cottage, Hope told him to take his things to his room while she put the kettle on.
'How was the Moon?' she asked once they were both seated at the kitchen table with a steaming hot cup of tea.
'Fine. No injuries, again.'
'That's such a relief. I was worried after November's. You had four good moons, and then such a bad one. I wish we could figure out what's causing it.'
Remus chewed his lip. He should tell her, shouldn't he? But what if she told the school and they couldn't come anymore? She wouldn't, though. Not if doing so meant Remus would get hurt again. Would she? He didn't think she would.
'I know what's causing it.'
'You do?'
Remus nodded. 'Sirius, James, and Peter have been sitting outside the place I transform all night, talking to the wolf. It seems to keep him calm, but in November, the moon rose before class ended.'
'And the wolf was upset that they weren't there?'
'We think so. Dumbledore enchanted the door so the wolf can't smell them, but we think he can sense them somehow. Sirius thinks he hurts himself because he's lonely.'
She was quiet for a minute, and Remus sipped his tea nervously, wondering what she was thinking. Finally, she spoke.
'It's safe for them to be there?'
Remus nodded. 'Completely safe.'
'Alright.' She downed the last of her tea and poured herself another cup. 'So, what else have you been up to?'
Remus laughed. 'Schoolwork, mostly.'
'I don't believe that for a second. Not with those friends of yours.'
'Well, we did organise a school-wide game for Halloween that lasted a week. Even the teachers played.'
She grinned. 'That sounds exciting. What was it about?'
'Gonna have to do better than that, old man,' James' voice said in his head.
Remus tried not to let anything show on his face as he told his mum all about the Capture the Crystal Competition, but James' intermittent taunt sounding in his head was extremely irritating. Until it suddenly stopped, cutting out mid-sentence.
'I… er… I need the toilet,' he said, trying hard not to panic.
James couldn't possibly be dead. He was at home with his parents, who both loved him very much. There must be another explanation. But what if he'd had an accident? It had sounded like he was play-fighting with his dad. He could have fallen down the stairs or something.
What could he do, though? He couldn't tell his mum about the tracking spell. She'd be horrified at him doing something so permanent. It wasn't Christmas day yet, so he couldn't use the presents. He could fire-call him, but he needed an excuse first.
When he returned to the kitchen, his mum was on her feet, taking things out of the fridge. 'I'm going to get started on dinner. Why don't you unpack?'
'Yeah, sure. What are you making?' It was going to be weird not having options at every meal again. The house-elves really did spoil them.
'Spaghetti bolognese. It won't take long.'
Remus' mouth watered. His mum made a great bolognese. 'Can't wait.' He gave her a grin and went to his room, still trying to think of an excuse to fire-call James when they'd been together less than half an hour before.
The answer lay inside his trunk. As he was putting his clothes away in the wardrobe, he found one of James' extremely vibrant shirts. He had no idea how it had ended up in his trunk, but he was so glad it had.
'Mum,' he called into the kitchen. 'One of James' shirts ended up in my trunk. Do you mind if I fire call him quick?'
'Yeah, that's fine. But make it quick, dinner's almost ready.'
'Potter Manor,' he said, after throwing the floo powder into the grate and sticking his head in.
The Potter's receiving room whizzed into place before his eyes, and he had to wait about thirty seconds before Effie entered the room.
Her eyebrows went up in surprise when she saw him, but she was as polite as ever when she spoke. 'Remus. Hello dear. What can I do for you?'
'Hi, Effie. Is James around? I found one of his shirts in my trunk.'
'He's upstairs unpacking right now. But I can give it to him for you.'
Remus let out a sigh of relief. James was fine. He still didn't know why the alarm had suddenly stopped like it had, but they could figure that out later. He put his hand holding the shirt into the flames and handed it to Effie. 'Thanks, and I'm sorry I pulled you from whatever you were doing.'
'I was just watching Monty make dinner. It was no trouble, dear. Have a good Christmas, won't you?'
'I will. I hope you all have a good Christmas, too. Bye.'
'Goodbye, dear.'
Remus pulled his head out of the fire and went to the kitchen. His mum's spaghetti bolognese was waiting for him and it smelled delicious.
That night, after his mum sent him to bed, Remus took out his part of the joint Christmas present he'd made for the Marauders, and opened the cheap, nondescript notebook to the first page. Along the top, in Remus' best handwriting, it read Twinkles, Moony, Bubbles & Sunshine. Holding the book open with his right hand, he picked up his quill and dipped it in the ink, sucking on the end as he thought about what to write.
Happy Christmas! You're probably wondering why I've given you a cheap notebook with our nicknames written at the top of each page, or maybe you've already realised that it's not as straightforward as it looks. I'm sure you've probably guessed there are four notebooks in total. Each of the pages is linked to a page in one or more of the other three notebooks, as indicated by the names at the top. When you write a message on a page and tap it with your wand, it will be duplicated on the pages it's linked to. If you make a mistake, just cross it out and it will disappear. Looking forward to hearing from you. Moony.
Satisfied that the instructions were clear enough, Remus pulled out his wand and tapped the writing on the page, watching with satisfaction as it glowed a gentle blue for a second. Then he turned to the page marked Moony & Twinkles.
Hi. I don't quite know how to start this conversation. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk before we came home. I want you to know that I deeply regret taking advantage of you while you were drunk. It was wrong of me. You were not in control of your actions and I should never have let things go that far. I really am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.
Remus read over what he'd written. It didn't feel like enough, but he couldn't think of anything else to say, so he tapped it with his wand before he could change his mind. Maybe when Sirius replied, he'd have a better idea of what he needed to do to make amends.
The next morning, Remus and his mum dressed in their warmest clothes and cosiest jumpers for their traditional Christmas eve stroll in the woods. They'd been doing it every year since he was bitten, and, other than the previous year, the only time they'd missed it was the Christmas he was nine. The Moon had fallen on the twenty-third, leaving him too injured and exhausted on Christmas eve to even get out of bed, but they'd taken their walk on boxing day instead. Remus treasured this special time with his mum and he'd missed it the previous year.
This year was different, though. Instead of walking three feet apart to make sure there'd be no accidental touching if one of them tripped, they walked hand in hand, swinging their arms gently.
With a twist of guilt in his stomach, Remus averted his eyes from the monstrosity that now took up their entire back garden as they passed it, focusing instead on the smells drifting on the wind; pine trees and rotting leaves.
'I'm not upset about it, you know?' his mum said.
Remus looked up. 'What?'
'The Lunar Lodge. You always look so guilty when you catch sight of it.'
Remus pulled a face. 'You loved gardening, and now you can't.'
'Oh, can't I?'
Remus frowned at her. 'Obviously not. You don't have a garden anymore.'
'I do too. It's just an indoor garden now. Which, frankly, is quite pleasant. The magic the twins used on that ceiling is brilliant. There's artificial sunlight all day, even if it's cold and raining outside, which means I can enjoy the garden whatever the weather's like. It's wonderful. I put a chair and a little table in there. It's a lovely place to read.'
'Wait. You're gardening inside the Lunar Lodge? But I'll ruin it when I come home for the summer!'
She shrugged. 'That just means I get to start all over again and make a whole new design. Stop worrying, Remus.'
'Good morning, Mother. Regulus,' Sirius said in his best aristocratic voice as he entered the dining room the next morning. He was in a good mood. The house-elves had actually cleaned his bedroom for his return home, and he'd slept very well in the lavender-scented sheets with Moony's dreamcatcher hanging from the canopy.
'Good morning, Sirius.' She checked her watch and her eyebrows lifted slightly. 'You're not late.'
Sirius suppressed a sigh. Even when he obeyed the rules, she made jabs. He took his seat beside Regulus and reached for the platter of bacon. 'I wouldn't want to miss this excellent breakfast,' he said lightly.
Regulus smiled at him. 'Good morning, brother. Do you have plans today? Mother and I were just discussing whether I'd be permitted to visit Diagon Alley for a spot of Christmas shopping.'
Sirius glanced at his mother through his eyelashes but could not discern what answer she'd prefer from her expression, so he went with a non-committal response. 'I've not made plans but was intending to ask if there was anything Mother wished me to do today.' Looking to his mother, he continued. 'I'd be happy to accompany Regulus on his errands.'
She gave him an approving nod. 'That's decided then. I expect you to stay together at all times. Understand?'
'Yes, Mother. Of course,' Sirius said. Then, to Regulus, 'Do you want to leave soon?'
Regulus finished chewing and swallowed before responding. 'Yes. As soon as you're ready. I have quite a lot I want to do and I expect it'll be busy.'
Sirius hummed, taking a second to prepare himself for what he was about to say. 'Yes. No doubt it'll be full of mudbloods. We'll have to keep an eye on our gold.' He didn't know how he managed to not choke on the words, but his mother looked pleased, and that meant Reg was safe, so he swallowed down the bile and gazed back at her impassively.
'Yes, I'll put a protection charm on your money pouches before you leave,' she agreed, picking up her teacup and taking a sip.
An hour later, Sirius walked into the drawing-room wearing heavy velvet robes in dark green with silver buttons, his warmest cloak, and matching dragon-skin gloves on his hands.
His mother rose from her chair and approached him, adjusting his collar. 'You look dashing,' she said. 'Sit down and talk to me while we wait for your brother.'
Sirius smiled politely and took a seat facing her. Gods, he hoped Reg wouldn't keep him waiting long. Mother was being nice, which meant she had an agenda.
'How is your friendship going with young Mister Potter?' she asked, sitting back in her seat and crossing her legs at the ankles.
'Well. I think,' Sirius said, making the understatement of the century. 'I understand his parents have invited me to holiday with them in France this summer.'
'Indeed.' She smiled again. The expression was unnerving. He'd never been the recipient of so much of his mother's approval before. 'They have many important contacts to introduce you to. You made a smart decision befriending that boy, Sirius. I'm proud of you.'
'Thank you, Mother.'
'Their political beliefs aren't quite what we prefer. They've backed some rather controversial bills in the past, but perhaps you can be of some influence on the heir. Purify the Potter House a little, hm?'
Sirius had to bite down on his tongue to keep from laughing. 'Perhaps. I'll certainly do my best.'
'It pleases me to see you taking your role seriously.' Sirius bit his tongue again. Oh, but how he wanted to comment, 'Gryffindor was unfortunate, but perhaps we can take something positive from it and move forward.'
'Yes, Mother. It pleases me that you're pleased.'
She smiled again. 'Your father wishes to meet with you on boxing day.'
That made him sit up and pay attention. 'Father? Why?'
'You're thirteen now, Sirius. It's time you started learning about your duties. It wouldn't do for you to come into your inheritance without a clue what to do with it all.'
'No, I suppose not.'
'I'm sorry for the delay, brother,' Regulus said, entering the room. 'I hope you haven't been waiting long?'
'Ten minutes, at the most,' Sirius said, standing up. 'Mother has been keeping me company.'
'Give me your pouches. Do you have enough spending money?' their mother asked, picking up her wand from the table beside her chair.
'Yes, thank you, Mother,' Regulus said, handing his over so she could cast her charms on it.
'I have plenty, thank you, Mother,' Sirius said. She took his pouch and placed the protection charms on it.
'There. Off you go, then,' she said when she was done. 'Enjoy yourselves, but remember you are Blacks.'
'We will be the height of dignity, Mother,' Sirius said, barely managing to hold back a mocking bow. Gods, he needed to get out of there. He shot a pleading look at his brother.
'We'll be home in time for dinner, Mother,' Regulus said, stepping over to the floo.
Emerging from the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius dusted the ash from his robes and breathed a sigh of relief. A whole day of freedom stretched before him.
'Well, that seemed fairly painless. What did she say to you?' Regulus asked.
Sirius headed towards the door leading out to the beer garden and the entrance to Diagon Alley, and Regulus followed. 'She wants me to convert James to our beliefs.'
Regulus giggled. 'That's going to be tough for you.'
Sirius gave him a smirk. 'More like impossible.'
'Yes, well. You'll just have to pretend it's working, won't you? She won't learn you lied until James takes his place in the Wizengamot and by then it'll be too late for her to do anything about it.'
'You're rather fond of lying, little brother.'
Regulus shrugged. 'Better to lie than to be punished.'
Sirius drew his wand and tapped the brick that opened the wall, and the bricks moved aside, revealing the wizarding shopping district of Diagon Alley. 'If you don't mind hiding who you really are,' he said. 'I can't say I'm enjoying it.'
'It's got to be preferable to the cellar, though.'
Sirius tilted his head in acknowledgment. 'In some ways. What exactly do you need to buy?'
'Gifts for Mother and Father, mainly. But I should probably get a little something for everyone else, too.'
'Everyone? Reg, that'll take all day.'
'That's the idea, isn't it? Stay out of mother's way as much as possible.'
'I suppose. Do you have any ideas what you want to get?'
'Well, I had been planning to buy mother some jewellery, but now I'm thinking it might be a nice idea to get her a new house-elf.'
Sirius arched his eyebrows in surprise. 'You're going to replace Mohld?'
'I'd rather not use the word replace,' Regulus said. 'But one must take advantage of opportunities when they arise, however distasteful they may be.'
'What on Earth are you talking about, Reg? You're making no sense.'
'I'll show you.'
Intrigued, Sirius followed Regulus to Ecksturn Alley, where the House-elf Breeder was located. The route passed through Knockturn Alley, and they stuck close together as they hurried through the dingy street. Ecksturn was more reputable than Knockturn, but there were fewer shops than Diagon; more homes and offices. Regulus walked up to the door of the Breeder and knocked.
It was opened a moment later by a tiny elf, the smallest Sirius had ever seen. 'Yes, how can Moss help you, sirs?'
Regulus peered down at the elf. 'We're here to purchase a new house-elf. Is your master home?'
'Moss does not yet have a master,' the elf said, his ears drooping. 'But the master of the house is home. Would you like to come in and have a seat while Moss fetches him?'
'That would be wonderful. Thank you.'
'Right this way, sirs,' he said, opening the door wider so they could walk in. 'That was Moss' first time answering the door. Was it acceptable?'
Sirius smiled at the elf. He was so earnest in his request for feedback, Sirius wanted to hug him and tell him he was just perfect, but he refrained. 'It was very much more than acceptable. You did an excellent job. You'll make someone a fine house-elf when you grow up.'
The elf grinned at him and bowed. 'Thank you, sir. Sir is very kind. Please have a seat and the master will be with you soon.'
Sirius and Regulus seated themselves on the small two-seater sofa in the waiting room and a moment later, a tall man dressed in fine blue robes walked in. His long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and secured with an ornamental clip shaped like a bird-of-prey, and his face was clean-shaven.
'Moss tells me you're here to purchase an elf? I don't usually do business with children.'
Sirius stood up and met the man's eyes. 'My name is Sirius Black.' The man straightened at the name, and Sirius suppressed a laugh. 'My brother and I are here to purchase an elf on behalf of our mother. It's to be a Christmas present.'
The man nodded. 'Understood. Right this way, then.'
They followed him down a corridor, and into a large room filled with elves. Sirius spotted Moss listening intently to an older elf as she showed him how to fold clothes. 'This is the nursery. The juveniles learn everything they need to know from our veterans before we find them a home to work for. The juveniles are cheaper, but will require further training from elves already present in the home.'
'We're not interested in saving money,' Regulus said, sneering at the man. Sirius was taken aback by how much he resembled their mother at that moment. 'We require a competent, fully trained elf.'
'Of course, sir. Right this way.'
The next room they went to contained nothing but a sofa and an armchair with a small, circular table between them. 'Would you like a drink?' the man asked. They declined and took their seats on the sofa and the most uncomfortable display Sirius had ever been a part of began.
Each elf the man owned was called in one by one and offered for inspection to the two brothers. Sirius could tell Regulus was as uncomfortable with the whole process as he was, but he played the part of the pureblood aristocrat perfectly, checking each elf's ears and teeth, feeling their muscles, and asking them questions to test their intelligence.
'I'll take number fifteen,' Regulus said at last. 'Does she have a name?'
'She had a juvenile name, sir, but they leave that behind when they're bonded. It is up to their master to bestow them with a name.'
'Of course, How silly of me,' Regulus said, taking his money pouch from the inside pocket of his cloak. 'How much will that be?'
'Eighty galleons.'
Regulus handed over the money, and the purchased elf was called back in. The man handed Regulus a parchment with instructions on how to bond the elf to their family and showed them out.
Once outside, Sirius frowned at Regulus. 'I'm still not seeing what the opportunity is here, Reg?'
Regulus ignored him, reading through the instructions. Then he took out his wand and pointing it at the elf, waved it in an intricate pattern. 'Vinculum servus.'
The elf seemed to be forced to her knees by an invisible hand, bowing forward until her nose scraped against the ground. Sirius' stomach turned over.
'You may stand,' Regulus said.
'Thank you, sir,' the elf said, getting to her feet.
'What was your juvenile name?' Regulus asked.
'Peony,' she said.
'That's a pretty name. It suits you,' Regulus said. 'Would you like to keep it, or do you want a new one?'
'That is master's choice to make,' she squeaked, looking frightened.
'Your master would like to know what you want.'
She wrung her hands nervously, her eyes darting around before finally settling back on Regulus. 'I like my name.'
'Then you shall keep it, Peony.'
Her smile was bright enough to make the sun obsolete. 'Thank you, sir.'
'You're welcome. Do you know why I picked you?'
She shook her head, and her ears drooped. 'No sir, Peony knows she's not the strongest or the most efficient elf.'
Regulus hummed. 'That's true. But strength can be gained and efficiency can be learned. However, you were definitely the most intelligent elf available, and intelligence is something one is born with.'
The elf brightened at the praise, and Sirius eyed his brother. He was beginning to understand his plan, and it was inspired. Had he been sorted into Gryffindor, he would have made an excellent fifth Marauder.
'The job I have for you, Peony, is going to require all of that intelligence. Do you think you're up to it?'
'Yes, sir.'
'I'm going to take you home, and tomorrow, I will present you as a gift to my mother. She will perform the bonding spell on you, and you must act as if it works. Can you do that?'
She nodded vigorously. 'Yes, sir.'
'Show me.'
Immediately, Peony dropped to her knees again, tipping forward until her nose touched the ground. Her acting was perfect.
'Very good. From that moment on, you must act as though my mother is your mistress. You will follow her orders, unless I, or Sirius, instruct you to do otherwise. Do you understand?'
'Yes, sir.'
'When one of us instructs you to go against mother's orders, it will be up to you to hide your apparent disobedience from her. If you're caught, you will have to punish yourself, or at least play a convincing act of doing so.'
She nodded again. 'Peony will not let you down, sir.'
'I know you won't,' Regulus said. 'You should consider Sirius to be your second Master. His commands take precedent over Mother's, but mine take precedent over his.'
'Yes, sir.'
Sirius met Regulus' eyes. 'Alright. I'll admit it. You are a clever little bastard.'
Regulus smirked. 'Well, we both know you're going to end up back in that cellar sooner or later.'
James slept late on Christmas eve, enjoying the luxury of being able to. There were no classes to get up for and no secret missions to enact, just a blissful day of relaxing and family fun.
When he finally did drag himself out of bed and down the stairs, he found his mum and dad waiting for him at the dining table. They were both still wearing their nightclothes with dressing gowns over the top, and his dad was reading the Daily Prophet out loud. A plate of sausage, bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, and beans was sitting in front of James' chair, and the steam coming off it told him the food was under stasis. The smell was making his mouth water.
His mum ruffled his hair as he sat down beside her. 'Good morning, sleepyhead. We weren't sure you were ever going to make an appearance.'
'I was just saying to your mum that we'd have to decorate the tree without you.'
'Don't you dare,' James said, knowing full well they never would. 'Can I put the star on this year? Please?' he begged, dragging out the word.
'Oh, I don't know about that. What do you think, Monty? Do you think he's ready to handle the responsibility?'
His dad peered at him, giving him an exaggerated once over. James straightened in his chair, trying to look taller. 'Hm. I'm not sure. How steady is your levitation charm?'
'Not even a hint of a wobble,' James declared.
'Show me.'
Grinning, knowing he was going to win, James pulled out his wand and cast Wingardium Leviosa on the very full pitcher of pumpkin juice in the centre of the table, floated it over to his goblet, and poured himself a drink before floating it back to its place. And he did it all without spilling a drop on the white tablecloth.
'Impressive,' his dad said. 'Bet you can't do it wandlessly, though.'
James scoffed. 'Can you do it wandlessly?'
'I don't know,' his dad said, looking intrigued. 'It's been a long time since I've bothered trying to cast anything without my wand. I've never really had a need to.' He grinned at James and leant across the table conspiratorially. 'Shall I try?'
James nodded eagerly.
'Must you, Monty?' his mum asked.
'Yes,' his dad said. 'Yes, I think I must.'
His mum sighed, scooting her chair back before crossing her legs and sitting back in her seat to watch. 'Well, go on, then.'
'Do you know what I love most about your mum, James?'
James knew what was coming, but he shook his head anyway, playing along. 'No, what?'
'It's the way she always has faith that I'll succeed.'
James and his mum both laughed, and his dad grinned at their reaction.
'Right then,' he said, rolling up the sleeves of his dressing gown and giving the pitcher a hard stare. He put his hand out in front of him and waved it in a way that vaguely resembled the swish and flick of the levitation charm. 'Wingardium leviosa!'
The pitcher wobbled, lifted off, and floated a foot above the table. His dad grinned. 'See, no problem.'
He moved his arm, directing the pitcher towards his goblet. It wobbled some more, but drifted over towards him, stopping next to the goblet.
'Time for the tricky bit, dad.'
'It's just a simple matter of tipping it,' his dad said, twisting his wrist. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on your perspective, he twisted a little too forcefully and the pitcher tipped upside down, drenching his dad in pumpkin juice.
James laughed, and then laughed harder when he heard his mum's snort behind him.
'Well, I thought that went very well,' his dad said, laughing with them.
It only took a wave of his mum's wand to clean up the mess. While she was doing that, James took his empty plate out to the kitchen and washed it, leaving it on the drainer to dry. As he reentered the room, he paused in the doorway. His parents were having a moment, and he didn't want to intrude. He watched as his dad dipped his head down and kissed his mum tenderly, and felt a warmth fill his chest. They were both still so in love after such a long time together. That's what he wanted.
The rest of the day was spent decorating the enormous Christmas tree in the family room, with James dutifully giggling as his mum "accidentally" dropped tinsel on him, though, truthfully, he had stopped finding the joke funny years ago. Playing along was worth it to hear his mum's snorting laugh, though.
When his mum deemed the decorations satisfactory, his dad left to retrieve James' presents from wherever they'd been hidden and piled them under the tree, and James immediately began examining the packages, trying to guess the contents. His mum gave him a few minutes to indulge his curiosity before shooing him off so she could organise the gifts into a more artful display. James didn't miss her sneaking a few more wrapped boxes into the pile, these ones addressed to his dad.
James ran up to his room and grabbed the three presents from his friends, and the gifts he'd bought his parents, and placed them all under the tree, too. Then he stood back and looked at the beautiful scene. Merlin, he loved Christmas.
Peter woke to the sound of his alarm on Christmas eve and groaned. It was six in the morning, but he had no choice but to get up. There was so much to get done. But first, he needed a shower.
By six-thirty, he was showered, dressed, and in the kitchen, making breakfast for his mum. By seven, he was gently shaking her awake.
'Hey, mum. It's time for your potion,' he whispered. 'Wakey, wakey.'
She blinked a few times as she came to, grimacing a little, but eventually, her eyes focused on his face. 'Hi, sweetheart. When did you get home?'
'Yesterday. You came with Bella to pick me up from the station. Don't you remember?'
She closed her eyes and hummed. 'It's fuzzy, but yes, I think I remember. You looked very handsome in your uniform.'
Peter hadn't been wearing his uniform. He'd changed into muggle clothes on the train. But she was obviously trying to spare his feelings, so he smiled. 'Thanks, mum. Can you sit up? Or do you need a hand?'
'A little help, please?'
Peter helped her sit up and steadied the goblet for her as she drank the potion down, pulling a face at the end. 'Bleugh. Disgusting stuff.'
'I'm sorry, mum. I can't make it taste any better.'
She reached her arm up to cup his cheek for a moment. 'You are amazing. I couldn't ask for a better son, Peter.'
Peter's chest swelled, and he smiled at her. These early morning minutes with his mum were his favourite time of every day. When the potions from the day before had worn off and before the new ones had kicked in, she was the mum he remembered from Before, and he treasured every second. But he couldn't be selfish with it. During these moments, she was in pain. She hid it well, but he knew.
'Are you hungry?' he asked, picking up the bowl from the bedside table. 'I made you porridge.'
'That sounds lovely.'
It took a while to slowly feed her the hot cereal, and as the minutes passed, he watched as her eyes clouded over and she left him once more for the world inside her head. He wouldn't get any more conversation out of her until the next morning. Not really. If he was lucky, she might offer the odd comment here and there, but they rarely made any sense.
Peter pulled the blanket up and tucked it under her chin before leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him. She would sleep for a few more hours, probably wandering downstairs around midday, by which time he hoped to be finished with cleaning the living room.
At eight o'clock exactly, there was a knock on the front door, followed by, 'It's only me!' and a moment later, Arabella walked into the kitchen. Peter was just pouring the boiling water into the teapot, so he responded without looking up. He didn't want to splash the hot water on his hand.
'Tea'll be ready in a few.'
'Wonderful,' Arabella said, removing her coat and hanging it over the back of her chair with her handbag before taking a seat at the little dining table. 'It's freezing outside. Can't wait to warm my hands on a nice mug of tea.'
Peter put the delicate teacups back in the cupboard and took out two large mugs instead before carrying the tea tray over to the table and setting it down.
'Did your mum take her potion alright this morning?' she asked once Peter was seated.
He nodded. 'We had a little chat first. It was nice.'
She smiled. 'That's good. We'll have to get some more brewed while you're home. I don't have enough to last until the summer. I harvested the aconite a couple of weeks ago. There should be enough.'
Peter nodded. 'Yeah, I ordered the other ingredients last week, so they should be here in a few days. How's the skulking fluxroot doing?'
She groaned. 'Peter, that plant is the bane of my life. Some days it's like it wants to die. But it's fine. It's been showing signs of reaching maturity the last few days. I swear it was preening itself in the mirror yesterday.'
Peter chuckled. 'We should be able to harvest it soon, then.'
'Yes. And a good thing too. I'm nearly out of the Confunding potion.'
'Still having as much fun with that?'
She laughed. 'It's brilliant. Makes me feel like a witch. I just lean forward and let them get a whiff and their eyes go blank. Then they give me whatever I want.'
'But you only get the giros, right?' Peter didn't feel bad about confunding the muggles to get his mother's welfare cheque—she was entitled to the money—but he wasn't comfortable with the thought of Arabella using the potion to rob them blind.
She waved him off. 'Of course. You know I'm not a thief.'
'Good. That's good.' He used pouring the tea as a distraction and changed the subject. 'So, I was right about Remus. He is a werewolf.'
She leaned forward eagerly. 'Really? Did he tell you?'
Peter nodded. 'Yeah. He was really nervous, too. Reckon he thought we'd hate him or something.'
'But it went okay? How did your other friends take it?'
Peter laughed. 'Well, Sirius already knew. Apparently figured it out last September. James insists he knew, but I think he's lying. He doesn't care, though.'
'Good. I'm glad Remus has you all. You're a good friend.'
'Thanks.'
'What about all the Marauder stuff? How's that going?'
'Brilliant.' Peter launched into describing all the events they'd hosted so far that year, and Arabella listened attentively, laughing in all the right places, and asking questions when she didn't understand something. When he reached the Christmas party, though, he hesitated. He knew Arabella hadn't been sent away from home as a child, but still, he didn't want to offend her.
'Did you know Hogwarts used to have a section for squibs?'
'Yes. It was closed down before I was old enough to go, though. My parents had been planning to send me.'
'I'm glad they couldn't,' Peter said. 'It's horrible, Bella. No windows anywhere, and just a little courtyard for outside space. You would've been miserable.'
'You've seen it?'
He nodded. 'We held the Christmas party there. The doors are invisible unless you're invisible.'
'And James has an invisibility cloak.'
Peter grinned. 'Exactly.'
They'd finished their tea by then and Arabella stood up. 'We should probably get started on the cleaning.'
It took them most of the morning to get the house clean enough for Peter's relatives coming to visit, but they had fun doing it. Peter continued to regale Arabella with stories of the Marauders escapades, and Arabella reciprocated with stories her sisters had told her about their time at Hogwarts.
When they stopped for lunch, Arabella made them both a sandwich and fetched the stack of muggle mail from the hall, pulling a little black notebook from her bag when she returned.
She turned the pages of the notebook until she got to the most recent and pushed it across the table to Peter. He scanned the columns of numbers marked incomings and outgoings and raised an eyebrow at how much was left.
'All the bills have been paid for the month, and I've bought you enough groceries to last through Christmas. You'll have to go shopping after your family leaves, though.'
'Thank you,' he said. 'There's more money left than I expected.'
'I buy whatever's on sale,' she said. 'You can get some good bargains if you go at the right time.'
'You'll have to teach me. I've never been able to stretch the money this well.'
'I can do that. Do you need to go to Diagon Alley while you're here?'
'I'm not sure. I've not been through all the post yet.'
'Well, give me a shout if you do. I'll come with you.'
'That's alright. I can manage.' Peter peeked up at her through his eyelashes, knowing exactly what her reaction would be.
'Are you kidding? I hardly ever get the chance to go anymore. Don't you even think about going without me, Peter Pettigrew.'
Peter laughed and held his hands up in surrender. 'Alright. Alright. I won't. Promise.'
She humphed and nodded her head hard.
Arabella took her leave when lunch was over, leaving Peter to deal with the washing up. His mum made an appearance as he was putting away the last of the dishes, shuffling into the kitchen in a daze.
'Hi, mum. What are you up to?'
'Got to brew,' she muttered. 'Orders to fill. So many orders.'
Peter sighed. She was living in the past again. Sometimes he wished he could join her there.
'It's alright, mum. You finished it all already.'
'I did?'
'Yep. Everything's done. You can rest now.'
'Oh good,' she said. 'I'm very tired.'
'I know, mum.' He took her arm and guided her towards the living room. 'How about some T.V.? You like watching the people, remember?'
'Oh, yes. That sounds nice.'
Peter sighed in relief. It was so much easier when she was cooperative. He got her settled in front of the television before grabbing the mail from his room and his accounts book. Then he set himself up on the sofa where he could keep an eye on her and made a start on the mail that had piled up in his absence.
Opening each envelope, Peter made a note of the bill's total in his book, so he could work out how much he needed to withdraw from his mum's vault. The bills from The Floo Network and Wizarding Wards Ltd held no surprises, but the one from Slug & Jiggers made him frown. The price of murtlap tentacles had increased by 3 knuts per jar. That was going to eat into the budget. He'd have to decrease his allowance to cover it.
The bill from St Mungo's was the worst, though. It always was. The twice-monthly call out fees were bad enough, but it was the specialist consultant fee that was crippling. Peter didn't have any choice but to pay it. Healer Huxley was the only healer at St Mungo's also trained in muggle medicine, and thanks to Peter's stupidity in phoning for a muggle ambulance instead of flooing for help, that's what his mother needed.
Looking at the bill, he thanked the gods yet again that the Muggle health service hadn't yet found them. Merlin knows how much it would cost for the amount of treatment it had taken to keep his mum alive after the beating his dad had given her.