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Back to Hogwarts


It was a few days later that James, Sirius, and Peter returned to Hogwarts, along with the rest of the students that had gone home for the holidays. The holiday had been sufficient enough time for Peter to come to the decision that he would let the whole werewolf thing go - for now, at least - and he rejoined James and Sirius in their usual compartment on the Hogwarts Express as though nothing had transpired amongst them. They shared licorice wands, paid for by James’s pocket money, and dared each other to eat the grey and brown Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, laughing and exchanging tales about their Christmases.

Peter was very impressed with Sirius’s new broomstick and asked to hold it, running his fingers over the lovely plate that declared it’s model number on the handle. Sirius was very proud and excited for a chance to go out to the pitch with James sometime after quidditch practice to have a go on the broom. They’d done quite a lot of quidditch playing over the holiday in the great empty field behind the Potter’s house. It had been like riding lightening compared to the Hogwarts school brooms. “If you’d had that broom back at try outs you would’ve been a shoe-in for the team,” James said with relish when they’d tested it out. “You’ll have to try out again after this term. There’s going to be three spots open once Derek, Bilius, and Alex leave.”

This was a sentiment repeated by Peter on the train to Hogwarts. “Could you try out at least for the tourney again Illvermorny?” he asked.

“I reckon you need to already be on a team to try out,” lamented Sirius, “That’s the point of the tourney, isn’t it? The best of all the houses have a go against the best of all their houses?”

“We could ask Derek, though, couldn’t we?” James suggested. “Maybe he’ll accept a last minute try out for the tourney. I mean, we are his mates and all. Sort of. Maybe he’ll make an exception for you.”

“Maybe,” said Sirius doubtfully. But James wasn’t willing to give up so easily and persisted that he would ask Derek first thing when they reached the school.

They arrived to Hogsmeade and were carried up to the school by the great horseless carriages and dropped off at the stairs that led into the doors. There was a considerable amount of bustling and chatter as the students all pushed their way into the castle. The boys made their way up to Gryffindor Tower, still talking excitedly about the holiday as they went. Bilius Weasley was waiting outside the portrait hole, wearing a great big top hat that he’d gotten over the holiday, and greeting the students with the new password into the common room.

“It’s Minerva,” said Bilius lowly, as the three boys approached him, “McGonagall’s first name.”

“Got it, thanks mate,” said James and they climbed in through the portrait hole.

The common room was a buzz of students catching up with their friends, reuniting after the time apart, sharing tales of how their Christmases had gone. Sirius’s eyes swept the common room for Remus, but he didn’t see him, and he bounded toward the stairs up to their dormitory, followed by James and Peter. They were running so quick to find their mate that they nearly ran right into Derek Bell, coming out of the seventh year dorms with a sullen look about him.

“Hey! Derek!” shouted James, ignoring the sour expression that twisted Derek’s features, “Sirius got a broom for Christmas. You reckon he could try out for the tourney?”

Derek barely looked at the broom, “Only players on organized teams can try out for the tourney,” he replied. “I’ll see you lot later, alright? I’ve got to go.” He pushed ‘round them and went on down the stairs.

“That’s what I thought,” Sirius said.

“Well blimey, he could’ve been friendlier about it, though, you reckon?” James said, frowning, “What’s got his knickers in a bunch, I wonder? Should be in a better mood after the holidays!”

“Maybe he’s had a bad one, being the first one without his family and all?” Peter suggested.

“Yeah I s’pose that’s probably it,” James said, a bit more empathy in his tone now.

They continued on up the stairs to the very top, where the second year dorms were, and burst their way in. Remus was sitting on his bed, hunched over a book, and looked up as they came in. His eyes flickered to Sirius with a nervous expression.

“Hey mate!” Sirius said, hoping the enthusiasm in his voice would answer whatever questions Remus was wrestling with in his head. “How was your holiday?”

“It was good…” Remus’s voice was tentative. He sat up, putting the book down at the end of the bed, studying Sirius as he threw his bag onto the bed, along with his new broomstick and the case of records, and started unpacking.

“So was ours,” announced Peter, though he kept his eyes averted from Remus’s.

James asked, “Is Derek Bell alright?”

Remus replied, “He’s been acting a bit funny, but I reckon it’s because of Christmas and everything.” He still hadn’t looked away from Sirius. “Are you alright?” he asked finally.

“I’m just swell, Rey,” replied Sirius.

“Are you sure?” Remus pressed.

“I’m positive,” Sirius replied.

Remus got up and went over and caught Sirius by the arm, turning it over to look at the scar. Sirius frowned as Remus ran his fingers over the marks, pale pink and puckered ‘round the edges, and he looked up at his friend. “I’m sorry,” he said thickly.

“Mate, it happens,” Sirius replied. “Everyday.”

“Everyday?” Remus asked, a quirk in his eyebrow, “Someone gets mauled by their werewolf mate everyday?”

“Well,” Sirius smirked. “P’raps not every day, but I reckon it’s common enough.”

Remus shook his head, “It’s not.”

Sirius shrugged, “So we’re originals. Did you at least get the blankets?”

“Yeah,” Remus replied.

“Then it wasn’t for naught, ‘ey?” Sirius smiled. “And really, Rey, I’m just fine. The marks actually are pretty cool. They make me look dangerous.” He grinned down at them and ran his fingers over them, “Enemies will see’em and know I’ve been through battle.”

Remus chuckled in spite of himself.

Peter asked, “Anyone else want to go down to the Great Hall for lunch?”

“I’m stuffed from the trolley on the train,” James said, shaking his head and clutching his stomach, “I feel like I might explode if I eat another bite.”

“I actually fancy a nap,” Sirius said as Remus dropped his arm.

“I’ll go with you, Peter,” Remus said, “I haven’t eaten yet.”

Peter looked a bit nervous, but Sirius glared at him and Peter stammered, “Okay, let’s go, then.” He looked back at James, “See you.”

“Bye guys, I’m glad you’re back,” Remus said, and he waved them off and followed Peter out of the dorms.

James threw himself onto his bed, “Well that went rather better than I expected.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sirius, “It did.”

Meanwhile, Peter and Remus made their way through the castle to the Great Hall in silence.

Truth be told, Peter’s motive for keeping quiet about Remus’s condition was neither fueled by his lack of options, nor by Sirius’s all-to-serious threat… rather, what kept Peter from running to Dumbledore’s office was the realization that being friends with a werewolf was sure to bring him some leverage. And there was more than one way he could ultimately benefit from it, Peter had realized one night, as he laid in his bed back home, safe and far away from the threat of the bites and scratches.

First, there was a certain amount of protection that being mates with a werewolf could offer. He had realized this part of it when he had overheard his mum and dad talking about Fenrir Greyback, who was on the news for having bitten a load of people somewhere on You-Know-Who’s orders. They were terrified of the threat of Fenrir Greyback, and talked in hushed voices, protecting his ears, unaware that he was listening just the same. Funny enough, the conversation they’d thought would frighten him to death actually comforted him. As scared as they were of Greyback was as scared as anybody else would be of Remus Lupin in his changed form, and, should Greyback ever attack, there was the option of letting Remus at him. The idea of a werewolf fight actually was sort of exciting - like something out of the cinema - and it made Peter feel better about the lingering fear of Fenrir Greyback.

The second way it could be to his benefit to keep the secret was that when one keeps a secret, there is a secret to be kept. Meaning he could use it as leverage against the other three Gryffindors, if needed. He knew something that they didn’t want known by others. His silence could be purchased, of course, with favors and what not, and this cost would be paid as many times as he threatened to divulge the secret. Currently, the cost of silence was their continued friendship, the guarantee that he wasn’t going to spend his time at Hogwarts alone. But there was nothing saying that cost couldn’t rise - after all, prices do naturally inflate over time. Peter simply needed to figure out what it was that he wanted.

They were on the moving staircases before either of them spoke. “Anything new about the castle?” Peter asked as they waited for the staircase to stop at the landing they wanted.

“I suppose not a whole lot, really,” Remus replied, shrugging. “There’s a rumor about that Professor Blythe may be on a probation, but nobody knows why and of course there’s been no classes to confirm it.”

“Odd,” said Peter.

The staircases aligned and the two boys hopped off the end and continued on their way to the Great Hall. “I told Lily,” Remus said lowly a moment later, when they were in an empty corridor.

Peter looked up at Remus in surprise, “You told Lily what?”

“You know… about --” Remus paused, unsure how to safely word it, “-- me.”

Peter’s eyebrows went up, “Really?” Remus nodded. “What did she say?”

“She seemed alright about it. It hasn’t really come up again, though, which is odd. I wondered for a bit if I’d dreamed telling it to her, but I know I didn’t. We were in the Trophy Room.”

“You showed her the Trophy Room?” Peter asked.

Remus shrugged, “She won’t tell. She rather liked it in there. We found McGonagall in one of the pictures!” he said, excitedly, remembering. “I think she was one of the people in Scrimgeour’s little group that found the place.”

“McGonagall was?” Peter said, shocked, “Really? She doesn’t seem the type.”

“I know!” Remus exclaimed, “But I think perhaps she is, deep down, under all that sternness now. Maybe she’s only so stern because she knows what sort of mischief people can get up to about the castle - because she was once the one getting into it!”

They’d reached the Great Hall by now and settled themselves onto the benches at the Gryffindor table. There were a few other students, still lingering over their plates of food and talking. Bilius Weasley was at the far end of the table with his top hat, showing Alex Tinnamin how he’d wowed a muggle girl back home by pulling a white rabbit from inside of it. “Absolutely amazed,” he laughed boisterously. “I’m telling you, this being Of Age stuff is splendid, Al. Just wait ‘til your birthday hits, you’ll be amazed. The ladies dig it.”

The boys ate their fill while watching Bilius reenact the trick he’d done for the girl, transfiguring a knut he’d tucked up his sleeve and let drop into the top hat’s depths when he reached in, pulling out the newly magicked rabbit. “And the best part is it only costs a knut! I let her keep the rabbit at the end and she was just tickled.”

Alex clapped. “You’re mad, but I love your style,” he chuckled.

They started back to the dorms when they’d finished, once again in mostly silence, until they bumped into Severus Snape. He was on the fifth floor, carrying a bit of parchment and muttering to himself, looking a bit lost and scowling. Peter, impressed by James and Sirius by this point, sneered, “What’re you doing here, Snivellus?”

Snape looked up in surprise from his parchment, having been too absorbed in whatever he was doing to hear the two of them approaching. His surprise quickly melted to a frown. “I might ask you both the same?”

“We’re on our way back to our dorms,” Remus said. “You know the way to Gryffindor Tower, obviously, with all the stalking about you’ve done after Evans.”

Snape shrugged, “I’m simply out for a stroll. Not everything is your business.”

Peter replied, “You ought to go back to the dungeons, where you belong, with the other Slytherins.”

“Oh Peter, enough,” sighed Remus, “C’mon.” He quickly grabbed hold of Peter’s shoulder and directed him along to the next landing of the stairs. “Stop trying to pick fights where they needn’t be.”

“Well he’s where he needn’t be, too,” Peter whined.

Remus didn’t respond. He simply got Peter onto the next staircase and they zoomed off, away from Severus Snape and whatever it was he was doing on the fifth floor. Remus couldn’t help but stare back at the dark form of Snape, though, as they rushed up the steps and away… There really was no reason for him to be up this high in the castle while classes weren’t running, it wasn’t as though he could have a homework question for any of the professors - most of them didn’t even frequent their offices when classes weren’t running. But it wasn’t any of his business, Remus decided, and he turned away.