Moony

It was a crisp-aired, early autumn evening, the sun setting in the western sky, turning the clouds hues of gold and hot pink. In the shadow of the woods, on the edge of a small village, there was a little cottage, and the family that lived there were enjoying the night. A couple of leaves had fallen, spotting the yard with bursts of color here and there, illuminated by the fading sunlight and by fireflies that flew about, the prey of the boy who chased them, holding aloft an empty marmalade jar. The boy was shouting excitedly as he ran, his face happy, without a single line of worry upon it.

The boy’s parents watched him running from the porch of the cottage, sitting side by side on a swinging bench. Hope, his mother, was knitting a scarf for the boy for that winter while Lyall, the boy’s father, was reading the Daily Prophet, a newspaper for the wizarding community. The front cover story, and the article which he was reviewing, was coverage of the project he’d been overseeing at his job at the Ministry of Magic. Lyall and several of his colleagues had been selected to be on the board for the Department of Magical Community Welfare and the Interspecies Liaison Office to write and propose a new decree that would work to protect people from attacks of werewolves, which was a growing concern as lycanthropy had suddenly seemed to blossom quite wildly throughout Britain in the late 1950s. The Werewolf Restriction Act of 1963 had passed only that week, and the Daily Prophet was already reporting a great resistance from the werewolves that didn’t like the finer points of the Restriction Act - such as having to register and surrender to be quarantined for several days each cycle until the full moon had passed. Some of the werewolves were revolting, trying to get the Act cancelled, but there were too many supporters that rallied against them. The Act was sure to be upheld and the werewolves would be forced to abide by the laws that Lyall, as the head of the committee, had set to protect the people.

The sky was turning purple at last, and Hope stood up, her lovely blonde curls settling upon her shoulders as she tucked her knitting into a bag at her feet. She was a muggle woman with such a beautiful face that she’d once been told she should be in the movies, but she’d fallen in love with Lyall and didn’t want to leave the UK for the glitz and glamour that was Hollywood. She was quite glad, too, once she’d married him and Lyall revealed to her that he was a wizard. Her life had been turned upside down at the revelation at first, but since then she’d settled quite happily into her life with Lyall and couldn’t picture having chosen any other path for themselves. Especially since they’d had Remus. He was her pride and her joy, and Lyall’s, too.

Never had there been a boy more loved than Remus John Lupin.

“Remus,” called Hope, her voice ringing across the yard, “It’s time to go inside.”

Remus was busy, cornering a frog in the corner of a tree’s roots, and did not hear her.

Hope started down the steps of the porch and was just taking her first stride toward Remus when she stopped short and gasped. “Lyall,” she choked the name.

Lyall Lupin was already standing up himself, having folded over the newspaper and dropped it onto the swinging bench. He moved quickly down the steps of the porch and stood before his wife in a protective stance as the gate latch was lifted and it creaked opened and a most fearsome stranger stepped within the confines of the yard.

Remus looked up from the tree and was transfixed instantly by the appearance of the stranger. The man wasn’t tall so much as foreboding and his hair was messy and dirty… shaggy, even. His face was lined with a wiry scruff that framed his jaw and traveled down his throat, peeking from beneath the V neck of his shirt. As he walked by, the long trench coat that he wore moved in the air and a scent like dirty copper followed him - the smell of blood.

“Fenrir,” Lyall said. His knuckles were white, he was gripping his wand so tightly, arm pressed to his side, only just barely resisting taking aim. “You shouldn’t be out tonight.” He glanced nervously up at the deepening shade of the sky above.

“Shouldn’t I?” Fenrir asked, voice barely more than a growl. He eyed Lyall from beneath thick eyebrows and over a shaking sneer that bent his upper lip into a grimace.

Lyall’s voice shook. “The Werewolf Restriction Act clearly states that --”

“You think I’m goin’ to obey that rubbish Act of yours?” Fenrir hissed between his teeth, which showed as he smiled now in a false sort of way, revealing the awful yellowed fangs. “Who’re you to tell me what I can and can’t do, Lupin?” he asked thickly. “You think I’m some how lesser than you? That I’m some kind of dog?”

Lyall took a deep breath, “It’s not a matter of - of inferiority,” he stammered. “I’m simply thinking of what’s best - what’s safest - for everyone, Fenrir. You’re dangerous under the full moon. I understand you can’t control it, but that’s why we must lock your kind up when you’ve become a threat, so that others don’t get hurt and --”

“Can’t control it?” Fenrir’s laugh was more like a bark than a true laugh. “I can control it enough.” He glowered at Lyall.

“But you can’t! It isn’t your fault; none of you can control it!” Hope exclaimed from behind Lyall’s back, “Only a month ago a werewolf bit a young girl in Surrey, didn’t he? She’s still at St. Mungo’s according to the article. Critical condition, she may not live and if she does it’ll be… with… your… your condition.”

Fenrir’s eyes flashed and looked at Hope with a lustful stare. “Wouldn’t I like to bite you, gorgeous?” he growled, miming nipping at her by snapping his teeth, “Right in your pretty little neck… or maybe your thigh… draw the blood and suck it from your veins…”

“Enough!” shouted Lyall as Hope ducked behind him fearfully. He raised the wand with a shaking hand. “You need to leave, Fenrir. The moon will be out soon and it’s full tonight. You need to go home and lock yourself up, keep the community safe from your rampage.”

Fenrir chortled at the wand and lifted his palm, pushing the tip of it away from him. “Calm yourself, Lyall,” he drawled. “I haven’t even given you the present I came to deliver yet.” He grinned as the clouds shifted and the deep velvet sky was revealed and the bright light of the full moon overhead burst upon them.

If Remus had been fascinated by the stranger before, it was nothing compared to what happened next. Shaking, Fenrir had stumbled back a couple steps from the porch of the house as the moon struck him, and he dropped to his knees as hair sprouted up the length of his arms and burst from the skin of him all over as his clothes fell away from his body and he was transformed - snout and all - into the largest wolf that Remus could ever have imagined. Fenrir’s wolf form was silver and his back had coarse hair that seemed to ridge along his spine with black tips that made him look even more menacing as a wolf than he’d seemed as a person. He let out a long, low howl, his face tilted upwards at the moonlight.

“Hope, get inside,” Lyall had said quickly, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he pushed his wife towards the stairway of the porch, his sole thought on getting her out of sight as Fenrir had already expressed an interest in biting her.

“But - but Remus!” Hope wailed and she struggled against Lyall and rushed without a second thought past the still transforming Fenrir to where Remus stood in the dark yard, several feet away from the wolf. If she hadn’t rushed to him, perhaps Fenrir never would have noticed him at all, for he’d been impossibly quiet through the entire affair. But Hope had run toward him, facing the danger of the werewolf and betraying the thing which they loved most.

She didn’t move fast enough, though.

Fenrir’s transformation completed before she’d made it to Remus’s side and he lunged ahead of her, teeth bared, and Remus was too shocked and unprepared to defend himself, being only three years old, and before anything could be done, Fenrir’s teeth had sunk deep into the flesh of Remus’s shoulder.

“No! No! No, please!” Hope wailed, “Not my boy! Please, don’t kill him!”

But Fenrir had never meant to kill. He brought his teeth away, mouth dripping with Remus’s blood and stared at Lyall with his intensely piercing wolfish eyes as Hope dropped to her knees,r pulling the jumper from her shoulders to wrap around Remus’s wound as he lay on the ground, convulsing as the venom of the werewolf blistered it’s way through his bloodstream, changing everything about him, rewriting his cells and infecting him permanently with the lycanthropy.

Lyall, staring across the lawn at his beloved son, knowing the fate that would await him, fell to his knees, letting out a low, guttural sound of despair.

Satisfied that his revenge was severe enough, Fenrir Greyback ran away, jumping the fence and disappearing into the trees.

Lily

“Wake up, Tuney, wake up!” Lily’s voice was rapt with excitement as she shook her twin sister’s shoulder. “Oh do wake up Tuney. Wait ‘til you see!” She scrambled away from the bed excitedly, unable to stand still long enough for Petunia to wake up all the way.

When Pentunia pushed back the bed curtains that surrounded her four-poster, she found quite a scene indeed… “What - what is all this?” she stammered, looking about… for the girls’ bedroom had become a miniature winter wonderland, with snowflakes falling gently from a tiny cloud that hung by the ceiling fan overhead. Lily was already excitedly working on rolling out the body of a snowman.

It was Christmas and the weather had been uncharacteristically warm for the winter, not a single flake of snow had fallen yet out of doors. Petunia, whose favorite thing about Christmas was the snow, had been telling Lily not even a week ago how sad she was feeling without the snow fall that usually came with winter, and now here it was… their own personal blizzard. Outside the window, the grass was still dead and rotting on the lawn, but inside the finest powder, perfect for snowball fights and fort building, had fallen overnight. Like magic.

Lily grinned happily at her sister. “Surprise!” she gasped, then covered her mouth with her fingers, giggling to herself with nervous glances at the door to the hallway. She didn’t want to wake up their parents, afraid they’d be angry about the snow inside the house. Lily’s eyes were dancing with enthusiasm, though. “It’s my Christmas present to you, Tuney!” she whispered. “Happy Christmas!”

Petunia was sitting on the very edge of her bed. She stared at the sparking flakes around her. “But - but how?” she asked.

“Magic,” whispered Lily.

Petunia frowned. “Stop that lying, Lily, and tell me how.”

“I’m not lying and you know it, Tuney,” Lily replied. “I told Sev about how you wanted the snow for Christmas and he showed me a spell to make it. I made the snow myself, just for you, Tuney.” She smiled, quite proud of herself, then waved an arm eagerly, “C’mon. Come help me with this snowman. We’ll make him look really cool and show mummy and da. C’mon. It’s not cold, really.”

Petunia hesitated, torn between telling off Lily and joining her. Finally, she was overcome by temptation and slipped out of bed in her nightgown and walked gingerly to where Lily was kneeling by the ends of their beds. Lily was right; the snow wasn’t cold, it just looked like it ought to be. In reality, it was as warm and squishy between Petunia’s toes as beach sand would be. It was the most amazing thing she had ever experienced. Her eyes were wide and her hands trembled with excitement as she joined Lily in pushing a giant ball of snow around the room, forming the base of their snowman. They worked together, petting and pawing at the snow, until they’d formed the most handsome snowman either of them had ever seen before. Lily shoved a school pencil in for a nose and a couple of spare buttons from her wool coat pocket for eyes. The two sisters stood back and stared at their creation, giggling at him happily. They fell back onto the floor and made snow angels before laying quiet, side by side, staring up at the ceiling breathlessly.

“Sev will be really proud,” Lily commented. “I can’t wait to tell him the spell worked.” She grinned and rolled over to look at Petunia.

At this, Petunia frowned. “Sev?” she said shrilly, then, “Not that boy from Spinner’s End?”

Lily sat up. “So what if he’s from Spinner’s End?”

Petunia made a face. “Lily, Spinner’s End is where the poor people live. They’re filthy there. They have cockroaches and smell funny because they don’t take baths.”

Lily’s eyebrows came together in concern, “Sev can’t help where he’s from, Petunia.”

“His hair is always filthy.”

Lily stood up and walked away from where Petunia lay in the warm snow, fuming. She stood by the window and stared out across the front lawn at the Christmas lights twinkling in Mrs. Nextdoor’s yard as the sun was beginning to come up. Soon, their parents would be expecting them to get up and go downstairs and see the presents from Father Christmas and they’d all have a great breakfast together and a feast. The thought of these Christmas luxuries had been haunting her for some time now, ever since she’d met and started getting to know Severus Snape.

Petunia was right. Spinner’s End was where the poor people lived and the Snapes were among the very poorest of the poor there. It was because Tobias Snape, his father, had married his mother for money. A lazy muggle man, Tobias had been fired from every job he had ever tried to hold in all of his life and he’d been searching desperately for his lucky break when he met Eileen Prince. Eileen had seemed to have an unending amount of riches and Tobias Snape had envisioned a life of luxurious living, servants to wait upon him hand and foot, and a beautiful wife to boot - and so, more for thirst for money than for love, Tobias courted her. The problem, of course, came when Eileen’s pureblood wizarding family had discovered that she was marrying a common muggle man and disowned her, cutting her off entirely from the family’s wealth. She’d told Tobias only after they were married. Tobias felt he had been tricked into marrying her, suddenly seeing her as somehow damaged or deformed because she was a witch, and Eileen’s heart was broken because of all she’d sacrificed for him, only to learn that he did not love her. So, dependant on Tobias’s paychecks, which he rarely managed to earn, the family had fallen into a state of disrepair.

Severus had told her the story once as they sat under an oak tree by the pond. “They fight all the time,” he said, staring down at a long blade of grass he had plucked from a nearby clump. He was folding it carefully. “They’re always yelling so loudly that the neighbors can hear and the kids always make fun of me. They think they’re better than I am. They think I’m rubbish.”

Lily had put a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think you’re rubbish, Sev.”

He had felt a lump rise up in his throat at these words and continued staring down at the grass blade he’d been playing with, then he turned to her and wrapped his hand closed around it and breathed into his palms, opening up his hands and releasing a brilliant green bird that fluttered over and landed on Lily’s knee before -poof!- turning back into a carefully folded blade of grass.

Severus Snape might come from the poor side of town but he was kinder and gentler than any of the nasty boys that lived around the Evans neighborhood here in the ‘nice part’ of town. Lily didn’t understand why Petunia couldn’t see that. Money didn’t make a bit of difference about who a person was. Good people could have money or be poor and still be good people, and likewise one was not necessarily a bad person for lacking money.

Lily turned around to face Petunia, who had gotten back onto the bed. “I was only able to make you the snow for Christmas because Severus helped me,” she said.

Petunia lay back into her pillows, staring up at the cloth ceiling of her four-poster, acting as though she could not hear Lily.

“I made your biggest Christmas wish come true, Tuney, because you’re my sister and I love you,” Lily said. She crawled onto her own bed so that she was kneeling, staring at Petunia across the three foot gap between their bedsides. “You know what I wish for more than anything in the whole world?” she asked. Petunia didn’t respond, so Lily pressed on, “I wish that you wouldn’t be so hateful to Severus. Just give him a chance, Tuney.”

But Petunia rolled over, putting her back to Lily.

Lily felt hot tears in her eyes.

“Fine,” she hissed, “Fine, be that way.”

Lily got up. “Incendio,” she said as she waved her hands at the snow, melting it all away, just as Severus had taught her to do, leaving only the snowman, looking sad and droopy now that he was the only snow in the room and she said, “There I’ve left you a new sister to replace me, since you don’t give a damn about me anymore.” She stormed out of the room.

Petunia rolled over and sat up as the bedroom door closed and she stared at the snowman from the foot of her bed. She hesitated, afraid Lily would come back, or that she was just outside the door, listening. But Petunia didn’t see her shadows beneath the door, so she climbed down from the bed and walked over to the snowman. They’d drawn a curved line in his face for a mouth and he smiled at her with it now. Petunia hesitated, then carefully raised her hands as Lily had done and whispered, “Incendio.”

Nothing happened.

“Incendio,” she whispered again.

Still nothing happened.

Petunia felt hot tears burning her eyes. “We’re supposed to be twins,” she hissed, angry, “We’re supposed to be just alike.” She reached forward and shoved the snowman down, watching as his head fell off and broke apart, the button eyes rolling away across the room.

Severus

Walburga Black was in the library, having her afternoon tea, while her sons, Sirius and Regulus, studied from books. Walburga was tightening the knotted bun on the back of her neck when there was a knock at the front door. The two boys looked up. There was never a knock on the door - ever. Their house was unplottable, invisible to the eye unless you knew it was there. "Kreacher!" Walburga's voice was stern, "Get the door."

The ratted little house elf nodded from the floor, where he'd been hovering, awaiting instructions after giving his mistress her tea. "Yes, Kreacher will get the door for his mistress," he croaked and rushed off, nearly tripping over his pillowcase toga in his haste.

"Who is it, mother?" Regulus asked.

Walburga's mouth was a tight line. "I don't know, Regulus."

A moment later, Kreacher's shuffling footsteps were followed by two other sets on the stairs. Kreacher came into the library alone first and said, "Miss Prince and her son to see you, mistress."

Walburga's face squeezed into a disgruntled frown. "Show them in, then," she murmured.

The door opened and a woman with filthy black hair and dark, deep-set eyes stepped in, followed by a boy about Sirius's age, with equally dirty black hair. Sirius looked at Regulus and they both smirked at one another.

"What do you want, blood traitor?" Walburga asked.

"Walburga," whispered Eileen Prince, "Please. It's my family. We have no means to get food and my son -" she put her palm on Severus's shoulders, "- I can't let him go hungry. Please help us."

Sirius's eyes met Severus's, a ghost of a mocking grin still playing upon Sirius's lips. Severus felt a hot flush of embarrassment warm his neck and cheeks and looked away quickly. "Hasn't he got any shampoo?" Regulus asked Sirius quietly.

"Doesn't use it if he does," Sirius hissed back. "Maybe he likes being greasy."

Severus swallowed back the rising lump in his throat.

"What do I care about your filthy half-blood son?" Walburga demanded, staring down her nose at Severus. Her eyes moved back to meet Eileen's.

"He may be half-blood, yes," Eileen agreed, "But he is half-blood Prince. That ought to mean something to you. Your precious blood flows in his veins the same as it does in your sons!"

Walburga looked at her sons, who quickly made as though they'd never looked up from their books, and said, "My sons are of the noble House of Black, pure blood runs through their veins. They are not foul blood traitors."

Eileen frowned. "Walburga, I am your sister! Doesn't that mean anything to you at all? We are family!"

"No, we are not." Walburga's voice was sharp and she shook her head. The truth was that Eileen was Walburga’s half-sister, the daughter of her mother from a second marriage after the death of her father. "You are a stain upon the family name! No family of mine would marry muggle filth as you have, Eileen. No family of mine would believe that half-blood is a status of which to hold pride. Your son is a blemish on the family line - as are you!"

"Walburga!" cried Eileen, shocked, "How could you --"

Severus's face was flushed once more and he felt the corners of his eyes burning, threatening tears to fall, and he sniffed, trying to keep his composure as steady as he could, afraid of the shame that was welling up in him.

"He's snivelling," hissed Regulus.

"Snivellus Snape," snickered Sirius.

Severus closed his eyes, anger building in his stomach. He was humiliated. Only the worst circumstances could have brought Eileen to Walburga’s house - and they’d reached the rock bottom back home as Tobias was in his sixth month of unemployment. They’d been living off only the smallest of provisions that could be picked in their gardens for quite some time, but as it was winter the food they could grow was running out. Severus thought to himself that he would rather starve than beg for help like this.

Walburga had gotten up and walked to the wall as Eileen wept. Up on the wall there was a tapestry, the family tree of the pure blood line of the House of Black, depicting crisscrossing family lines, recording every union in the ancestry, convoluted by years of cousins marrying cousins to keep the blood pure. About halfway down the wall, Walburga pointed her wand at Eileen’s entry upon the tree, connected by a thin green threaded line, curling away from Walburga’s entry through her mother, Irma Crabbe. She snaked her wand around the portrait of Eileen slowly, menacingly, like a silent threat. Then she looked into Eileen’s eyes, a cold, regal expression in her eyes. “Obliterus,” she whispered, and a jet of icy-white light blasted Eileen’s name from the tapestry.

Eileen gave a desperate shriek of despair. “Walburga! Please!” she sobbed, “Don’t you remember, when we were children? We played together! We were so close - best friends - why would you - how could you -”

Severus wrapped his fists into her robes. “Mother, we should go,” he said, recognizing that the cold in Walburga’s face would not be moved by the tears she was shedding.

“Leave my home!” Walburga shouted, pointing her wand violently towards the door, making it swing open on it’s hinges quickly. “Kreacher!” she shrieked, “Kreacher! See this filthy blood traitor to the door! Shame upon the House of Black!”

Kreacher rushed forward and waved to Eileen and Severus to follow him as he shuffled to the door. “Yes,” he muttered, “Yes, Kreacher will show the half-blood filth from the house… yes… out of the noble House.” Walburga was staring down her nose in hatred at both of them as Kreacher beckoned to them.

“Noble!” Eileen wailed, “What is noble about this house when you cannot even help family?” Fat tears streaked her cheeks.

“Mother…” Severus pleaded.

Regulus leaned closer to Sirius, “Imagine having that for a mother?” he whispered. “No wonder he’s a sniveling, brainless git.” He grinned wickedly, and both boys snickered quietly.

Severus was certain that his face had never been so hotly flushed. If he could have melted into the carpet at that very moment, he would have. He wanted nothing more in the world as much as he wanted to get out of that library - out of that house - and as far away from Walburga and her sons as he possibly could. “Mother,” Severus said firmly, taking her hand in his and pulling her toward the door, “Let’s go.”

Sobbing still, Eileen finally consented to be led from the room as Severus pulled her along after the hobbling house elf, down the stairs and out of the house. The echoing of their footsteps down the stairs was drowned out by Walburga’s shrieking screams, “Filth! Mudbloods! Stairs! An abhorration to all wizarding pure bloodlines!” Kreacher pulled open the front door of the house. “Go and I bid you to never darken the door of this house again!”

Padfoot

Sirius Black took up a new hobby over the Spring that followed that visit from Eileen Prince. He called it “muggle watching”. He never connected this new hobby with the visit of Eileen Prince and her ten year old son - but whether he realized it or not, there had been a nagging question that had seemed to tumble about in his mind ever since they’d been there. He would perch himself in the attic of Number 12 Grimmauld Place with an old pair of Omnioculars obtained at a Quidditch game Orion Black had taken Sirius and his brother to for Sirius’s birthday present. He would spin the dial and watch the muggles as they moved about the park opposite the house, walking dogs and playing games in the shade of the trees as the months grew steadily warmer. Was there a difference between muggles and wizards? Was there really a reason for the hatred that his parents always displayed toward them?

The Blacks had always gone out of their way to demonstrate their hatred, actually. Orion Black was always blatantly ignoring the Statute of Secrecy, refusing to don muggle clothes, even when venturing into London’s public streets. He shot icy glares at anyone who dared to stare at him for his billowing robes. Walburga would mutter strings of insults under her breath as she passed anyone who was not of pure blood descent. She had blasted many a face off the Black family tree as she’d done Eileen Prince, all sorts of offenses could lead to the obliteration of entire branches of the tree. “Filth,” she’d hissed at the tapestry each time. The Blacks, too, had become very interested lately in the political movements of a new leader, a Dark Lord that they spoke of very fondly over the dinner table at night as Kreacher scrambled to serve the family their meals. The Blacks eagerly gave of their fortunes to the Dark Lord’s cause, looking forward to the day when they could do more. The Dark Lord would change the way things were looked at, they boasted, and set things right in the wizarding world. Blood status would finally be given the attention it deserved, and pure bloods would become rulers over the filth that were half-bloods, mudbloods, and muggles.

But in all the time that Sirius had listened to his parent’s steady streams of hatred, he’d never once really heard a reason for why they hated the muggles and half-bloods, and he was at an age that he felt silly asking why now - it was something he should’ve asked when he was a child, something that his parents just expected him to know by instinct. So he planned to observe it himself.

Thus, the Muggle Watching.

Everyday, Sirius would sit in the attic, perched on the sill of the upper most window of the house, staring out through his omnioculars. At first, his time in the attic was punctuated by visits from Regulus, who would wander up asking him to interrupt his spying to play a game of Exploding Snap, but as Regulus learned that Sirius never agreed to play, he eventually stopped coming up, opting to teach Kreacher how to play instead. Sirius would lose track of time and arrive late to dinner at the family table or completely neglect his studies for an entire day, caught up in the goings-on of the muggles that visited the square.

One boy in particular had caught Sirius’s attention more than any others that frequented the park. The boy would come to the park alone and sit on a bench and draw in a notebook. He drew great pictures that Sirius often zoomed the omnioculars in on to see - pictures of pirates and knights of the round table and merfolk and astronauts and all kinds of things. The boy’s pencil strokes were like magic, the way he pressed the charcoal against the page changed how the marks would be formed, and the pictures would seem to come to life - not because they were literally moving, like wizarding images often did, but rather because they were so well imagined that they didn’t need to. Something about the boy drew Sirius in and on days the boy didn’t visit the park, Sirius missed him as he would miss a friend.

Sirius was watching the boy one day when some other kids approached him. The biggest knocked the boy’s drawing pad to the ground and stepped upon it, smashing the delicate white pages into a puddle of mud, an evil grin upon his face. Sirius felt warm anger travel through his veins. The picture the boy had been drawing had been one of his best ever - a submarine under the ocean, caught up in the great twisting tentacles of an enormous octopus. Feeling the flush heating his face as he glowered down, Sirius only became more outraged as he watched the kids laughing and tossing the boy’s drawing utensils about, breaking the pencils and sharpener. One of them grabbed the boy himself and began to beat on him.

Unable to sit by and watch any longer, Sirius threw down his omnioculars and ran down the stairs, passing Kreacher carrying a tray of hot chocolate to Regulus’s room. “Master is running in the house and mistress doesn’t like it when young masters run in the house,” he croaked as Sirius rushed by.

“Knock off, Kreacher,” Sirius shouted as he thundered onward down the stairs.

“What is all of this ridiculous racket?” shrieked Walburga’s voice from the library. “Kreacher! What is going on out there?”

“Mistress is angry,” Kreacher grumbled, “Kreacher is going to be telling mistress about master Sirius’s naughty running.”

“Well go on then if you must,” Sirius said, and he ran off down the hall as Kreacher shuffled back to the library door. Sirius didn’t have time to worry about Walburga’s anger at the time, though, for he’d already taken longer than he’d wanted in coming down the stairs, and there was the boy, still locked tight in the grasp of the others, kicking and crying to be let go of. Sirius ran across the street and into the park and right up to the bullies and their prey and shouted, “Let go of him!” at the top of his voice, shoving his palms solidly against the nearest of the bullies.

“Who the hell’re you?” asked the biggest bully, the one who had his arm ‘round the neck of the boy Sirius had been watching. The boy kicked against the bully, trying to free himself, his eyes widely staring at Sirius, clearly thinking the same question as the bully was.

Sirius felt uncontrollable magic welling up inside him, as though he were a grenade about to go off, and he shouted, “I said let -- go -- of -- him!” And with a great cracking sound, the magic erupted from him and the bully, not knowing what in the world had struck him, let go of the boy, suddenly quite bloody ‘round the nose. He clutched his face and hollered loudly.

“What the bloody hell have you done?” wheezed the boy, looking wildly at Sirius as he scrambled away from the bloody-faced bully.

The other two bullies looked at each other, their nerves evaporated, and the three of them ran off, shouting vows over their shoulders, “This ain’t over Spencer!”

Sirius bent and helped the boy collect his drawing pencils, or at least what was left to them, and the boy shook out his sketchbook, mud splattering out from the pages. He frowned, “I think they’re ruined,” he muttered.

“A quick siphoning spell would clean them right off,” Sirius said.

“A what?” the boy looked ‘round at him, confused.

“A siphoning --” but Sirius didn’t get the words out for at that moment, Walburga had stepped out onto the front stoop of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, her face furiously contorted, Kreacher at her side, dancing foot to foot. Walburga’s face was practically purple and Sirius could see the anger etched in deep lines across her features, even from way across the street.

“SIRIUS!” she bellowed. Though her voice had been quite ringing to Sirius, the boy, Spencer they’d called him, didn’t seem to hear it at all.

“I gotta go,” Sirius said. “Let me fix your book for you,” he suggested. “I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

The boy shrugged and handed Sirius the sketch book. “It’s rubbish anyway, you can have it.”

“I think the drawings are spectacular,” Sirius replied.

“SIRIUS!”

“Gotta go.” He tucked the sketchbook under his arm and ran, sprinting across the road. He wondered what the boy thought when he crossed the threshold to Number 12 because it was invisible to muggles. Sirius wasn’t sure how it would look to Spencer - like he’d simply vanished, perhaps? There was no telling.

By the time he reached the stoop, though, and looked into his mother’s fierce eyes, Sirius wished he had vanished.

“What were you doing? Consorting with that muggle filth!” Walburga grabbed Sirius by the hair and pulled him along behind her into Number 12, ignoring his cries as she did so. Kreacher cackled and shut the door of the house behind them, bolting the wild assortment of locks behind him with a series of squeaks and clicks. Walburga dragged Sirius up the stairs to the library. “Go to your room!” she shrieked at Regulus, who had crept down onto the stairwell just outside the library, a look of curiosity on his face. Regulus didn’t hesitate, he ran off quickly, feet thundering on the stairs as he went. Walburga slammed the door shut with a flick of her wand, locking it, too, and hurled Sirius onto the floor. “Crucio!” she shouted.

It was an unbelievable pain, like none Sirius had ever felt before, as though a hundred thousand fiery swords had been jabbed through his flesh at the same time. Every muscle throbbed, every nerve twinged. He could hear his own voice shouting, screaming for it to stop, but Walburga didn’t stop for what felt like centuries. When she finally lowered her wand, Sirius pulled his knees to his chest, sore all over, crying and choking on his own tears. He rocked himself slowly, his cheek pressed to the carpet as Walburga stood over him, her regal chin held high, sneering at him down the length of her nose.

“You do not want to become a blood traitor, Sirius,” she hissed. “You are a son of the House of Black! You are better than that! And what is this?” she snatched the sketchbook from under Sirius’s arm. She flicked through the pages quickly, “Is this that muggle child’s?” she demanded.

“Mine,” squeaked Sirius, lying. “Mine, I did them.”

Walburga stared at him for a long moment, as though appraising whether she believed him or not, then flung the book across the room carelessly. She swept closer to Sirius so that he could smell the heat of her breath as their faces nearly touched, her black curly hair hanging over them like a privacy curtain. Her voice was low, quietly dangerous, and sinister. “I forbid you ever see that muggle again,” she hissed.

“But why?” Sirius asked, “Why do we have to hate the muggles?”

“Because they are beneath us, Sirius, we are better than they are. We are magic.”

“But that doesn’t mean they’re no good,” Sirius argued. “Muggle-borns are magic, too, and you hate them. So’s half-bloods.”

Walburga’s anger flared, “Because - we - are - better!” she seethed the words. “We are of royal stock, Sirius, we are descended from Salazar Slytherin, we are one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.” She stood up, again holding her chin at a regal tilt. She stared at him, disgusted. “The day I would have believed that a son of mine would question the worthlessness of muggles - I never.” She shook her head. “I believed you would do great things, Sirius. I believed you were raised correctly, that I’d taught you well, that one day you might go into the service of the Dark Lord and become one of the greatest wizards of our time…”

Sirius’s words were desperate, “I want to become a great wizard.”

“Then you had better rethink your stand on the muggles. The Dark Lord would not tolerate the shenanigans of this day.” Walburga said. She took a deep, steadying breath and then, in a much cooler voice, “Sirius, it is for your own good that we keep you from the muggles. They are dangerous and terrible.” She swept to one of the shelves of books and pulled one down and carried it to where he was struggling to sit up, still sore from the cruciatus curse. “Here,” she said, thrusting the book at him.

“Muggles and Mudbloods: The Reason Why the Pureblood Wizarding Families Have Got the Right Idea About Purity And Why We Ought to Listen To Them,” Sirius read the title aloud.

“Go to your room and study that book,” Walburga said sternly, “And don’t come down until you’re ready to be a proper member of the House of Black.”

Sirius got up, every ounce of his body stiff and smarting, and grabbed the crumpled sketchbook from the floor, dripping mud. He tucked both books beneath his arm and trudged to the stairs. Regulus was standing a couple steps up, wide eyed, having overheard the entire thing. He turned to watch Sirius climb the steps. Sirius carried the books into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

He sat down on the bed and put the book in front of himself, but instead of opening it straight-away, he lifted the sketchbook and shook it out a few more times, letting mud splatter about the room. When he’d managed to shake off a good amount of the dirt, he opened the book and flipped through the pages of the pictures that Spencer had drawn.

His mother was wrong, he thought, and so was that Dark Lord she was always talking about. So was anyone who thought that muggles were incapable of goodness for Spencer had created goodness in this sketchbook. Perhaps he couldn’t cast spells or anything but his pencils were sort of a wand - he had certainly done a sort of magic for Sirius Black wouldn’t ever be the same.

Prongs

James’s eyes popped open at 5:00 in the morning, sharp, on 1 September. He stared up at the ceiling, a feeling of intense anticipation crawling through his body. It wasn’t even light outside yet, but there was no way that James was going back to sleep now. He sat up and snatched his glasses off his nightstand, jamming them onto his face quickly. This was no ordinary day, after all. This was the first day of term - the first day of Hogwarts. He looked over at his trunk, all packed and ready to go. Inside were his new books, robes, quills, parchment, potions ingredients, and all of the other things that he would need for his studies. On top was a cage containing a spotted wood owl named Bubo, who looked up with his wide yellow eyes when James sat up.

“You better be good today, Bubo,” James said quietly, “We’ll be on the Hogwarts Express later today.” The owl hooted and shuffled to turn around on his perch, putting her back towards James. “Rude,” James accused.

Getting up from bed, James pulled on some of his muggle clothes, which he found much more comfortable than robes usually anyway. He tied his trainers, which he’d had his dad magic to be Gryffindor maroon and gold, and snuck past Bubo into the hallway, careful not to awaken the cranky owl again.

Downstairs, he found his mother, Dora, already awake and in the kitchen. She smiled as he came in and took a seat at the table. “Good morning popkin,” she greeted him, smiling, “Are you excited?”

James nodded heartily.

Dora smiled warmly and aimed her wand at the fridge and stove, setting bacon and eggs to sizzle in a griddle. She settled herself in the chair opposite James and stared at him with sad eyes. “I can’t believe you’re eleven years old already - seems like just yesterday that - that you were - were brand new… so tiny… in my arms…” Tears were welling up in her eyes.

“Mum,” James voice was a warning tone.

“I can’t help it!” she said tearfully, “All grown up, almost a man already… Soon you’ll be meeting someone, getting married, off into the world - becoming a big shot at the ministry…”

“I’m going to be a pro Quidditch player, mum,” James said, as though he’d told her this a hundred times. “And I’m not going to get married - ever.”

“Of course you don’t think so right now,” Dora said, “You’re just a boy, but give it a couple years and you’ll change your tune. A couple years from now and the girls at Hogwarts will be much more interesting than Quidditch.”

“Nothing is more interesting than Quidditch, mum,” James argued, shaking his head. “Except maybe this bacon,” he countered as she magicked a plate before him. He grabbed onto a strip and began to snarf it down as though he’d never eaten in his life.

Dora smiled even more deeply, watching him eat. She got up and went ‘round the table and ran her hand over his messy hair, planting a kiss square atop his head. “I’m going to miss you - so - so - so much.” She choked up as she spoke.

James sighed, resignedly. “Oh go on then, mum, get it all out here at home so that you’ll be all done when we’re on Platform 9 �, please, so that all the other kids aren’t laughing at me all term for being a mummy’s boy.”

“They’ll be too busy seeing off their own parents to worry about yours,” Dora replied, but she turned, taking a deep breath and began to busy herself around the kitchen.

When Charlus, James’s father, came down the stairs soon after, he was levitating the trunk and Bubo, who was squawking all the way down the stairs to the front hall. “Good morning!” Charlus called as he walked into the kitchen and sat at the head of the table. “Ready for Hogwarts?” he asked.

“Yes,” James replied, excitedly.

Charlus looked down and spotted Charlus’s gold-and-maroon striped trainers and grinned. “Nice trainers.”

“Gryffindor all the way,” grinned James.

“Now remember, there’s four houses,” said Dora, putting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her husband.

James shook his head, “Yeah but I’m going to be going to be Gryffindor.”

“We’ll be proud no matter what house you’re in,” Dora reminded him.

“Even if it’s Slytherin?” James asked, a smirk playing on his mouth.

Charlus paused, a strip of bacon halfway to his mouth, hovering in the air before him, “Well --” he hesitated.

Dora poked him in the shoulder with the spatula she’d used to serve his bacon to him. “Of course even Slytherin!” she said, glaring at her husband pointedly. “Honestly, Charlus…”

Charlus shrugged, then leaned forward and whispered, “Just do your best to avoid it, anyway.” He winked and James laughed.

“I told’ja dad,” James said, “I’m going to be Gryffindor. Don’t worry.”

The Potters were soon headed to King’s Cross Station, Bubo snacking on the strip of bacon that James had snuck down the hallway to slip into his cage. The ride to the station was pleasant because Charlus was actually pretty good at driving the muggle car the Potters owned. When they got there, Charlus sprinted to get a trolley and they loaded James’s luggage up and made their way into the station. King’s Cross was pretty quiet, not a lot of muggles around, and it was easy to slip through the barrier onto Platform 9� without being spotted. James was stunned by how much busier the platform was compared to the rest of the station. The wizarding platform was bustling with activity - students shouting greetings, owls screeching and hooting, crying mothers, and the hiss of the engine.

“See,” Dora whispered, gesturing at some of the other students being hugged and cried over by their mothers along the platform, “Wouldn’t be a step out of place with this lot.”

“Still,” James said warily.

But he didn’t escape her. When they’d found their way to an empty space along side the train, Dora enveloped James into a hug, squeezing him tightly, her eyes welling up all over as she clutched him to her, pleading with him to be a good boy and to enjoy the term. James’s eyes wandered over the crowd over her shoulders as she hugged him, and he met the stare of a boy down the way whose mother stood before him, saying a stuff goodbye.

“Mum, get off,” James said as the boy watched him. “I gotta go, I wanna get a good seat.”

“C’mon Dora,” Charlus agreed, pulling her back, “Good luck, son.”

“Thanks dad,” James said, smiling up at him. “Bye mum.”

“Write us loads of owls,” she cried tearfully, clutching onto Charlus’s arm as she’d done James.

“I will,” James promised, then, with a wave, he turned and climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express for the very first time.

Being on the train was a bit intimidating. There were older students all up and down the length of the train, in little clusters of friends, chatting and catching up. James felt as though he might be the only first year on the train. He wandered slowly along, peering in the compartments, hopeful that he’d find an empty one, but every compartment seemed stuffed to full with students already. The only one he could find was towards the end of the train and it wasn’t even empty. It was just mostly empty.

A girl with bright red hair sat on one of the benches, her face close to the window, palm pressed to the glass, staring out across the platform. James hesitated, but there wasn’t really an option, so he pushed opened the compartment door.

“‘lo,” he said, stepping into the compartment slowly, toting Bubo along. He took a deep breath, “Is um… this seat taken?” he waved at the bench opposite her.

The girl looked up and shook her head. She had tear tracks across her cheeks and her bright green eyes sparkled up at him, wet and beautiful. “No,” she said thickly. “It’s quite empty. I don’t think anybody wants to sit with the sobbing first year.”

James wondered for a moment if they didn’t have a good point about it. He wasn’t certain he wanted to sit with a blubbering girl, either. But again there wasn’t really any options, so he smiled as best he could and settled in.

Lily

The strange boy that had burst into her compartment on the Hogwarts Express was shoving his noisy owl up on the luggage rack overhead. Lily watched as he fought with the cage to fit in the small space. “Quiet Bubo,” the boy told the bird, and tugged a pair of robes out of his bookbag, covering the cage with them quickly. He looked down and caught Lily’s eyes. “Sorry,” he said, and he set himself down onto the bench across from her. “He’s not used to being shut up in his cage like this.”

“It’s alright,” Lily replied, wiping her eyes. “He’s a bird.” She shrugged. She turned to look out the window again. She could see her family. Her mum and dad were still waving goodbye to her cheerfully, but Petunia had set her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face. Lily pressed her palm to the glass again. Petunia’s words were still burning her emotions like hot coals. She swallowed back the disappointment. She wished Severus, wherever he was, would hurry up onto the train and come find her. More than anything else, she craved his company. She felt as though she were heartbroken, and needed to be reminded of her excitement.

“I’m James, by the way,” said the boy. “James Potter.”

“Lily Evans,” she answered without looking at him.

He was quiet a moment, then, “Are you okay?” he asked.

She looked over at him.

“Just - because you’re crying,” he pointed out. He had a kind, worried look in his eyes as he watched her.

Lily was about to reply when the door opened again and another boy walked in. “Can I sit in here?” the new boy asked.

“Sure,” James replied without seeking Lily’s opinion. The boy settled himself onto the seat beside Lily. “I’m James,” he said.

“I’m Sirius,” replied the new boy.

“About what?” James asked.

“No - not serious,” the answered, “Sirius. It’s my name. Sirius Black.”

“Oh,” James nodded, “Got it.” He opened his bookbag and pulled out a magazine and a couple licorice wands. He held out the licorice wands to Sirius and Lily. Lily shook her head, but Sirius grabbed hold of one of the wands and bit off the tip eagerly. “D’ya like Quidditch?” James asked.

“Love it,” Sirius replied.

The boys started talking about sports and Lily returned to her own worries, staring out the window. Suddenly the train wheezed and a fresh plume of grey-white steam clouded Platform 9�, obscuring the family left behind, waving goodbye to the students. The engine lurched and suddenly Kings Cross station was rolling away. Lily stood up, pressing her nose flat to the glass, watching as the train slowly pulled out from the platform. Her heart thumped against her ribs and she gasped, watching until her family was lost in the steam. She felt a lump rise in her throat as she fell back onto the bench seat and covered her eyes, crying.

“Is she alright?” Sirius whispered.

“Dunno,” James replied quietly, “I asked her but she didn’t say what the matter was.”

Lily looked up to answer them, but her eyes landed on a figure beyond the window, passing by the compartment. “Severus!” she called, her heart already lightening by just seeing him.

The door opened and Severus Snape stepped into the room. “There you are!” he said, “I’ve been looking everywhere --”

Sirius made a face as Severus stepped around him and tossed his bag to the floor, settling onto the bench next to James, facing Lily. Above him, Bubo shrieked as the train shuddered over a crossing and the luggage all shifted. Severus looked up, then turned back to Lily, suddenly noticing for the first time that she was crying. “Are you alright?” He inched closer to the edge of his seat and wiped a thumb over her eyes gently.

James was still rambling about Quidditch and broomsticks, but Sirius didn’t seem to be listening, he was staring at Severus, but Severus had eyes only for Lily.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Lily choked.

Severus looked hurt and withdrew his palm from her cheek. “Why not?” he asked, frowning.

“Tuney h-hates me,” whimpered Lily. “Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore.” Hot tears began rolling once more down her cheeks. The month before, Petunia had written to Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, begging him to allow her to come along with Lily to the magic school, but Dumbledore had replied that Hogwarts was a school only for those who could perform magic and Petunia was not magical and therefore could not come to Hogwarts. When Lily had told Petunia what she’d seen, Petunia had become very angry and accused Lily of spying and called her a freak in a vicious tone that sizzled against Lily’s heart worse than any burn could’ve done.

“And we only just got her to stop blubbering,” muttered James.

Severus glowered at James, but turned back to Lily quickly. “So what?” he asked.

Lily’s face hardened. “So she’s my sister!” she cried. Petunia was so much more than just a sister, too. She was a best friend. It had been the hardest part of finding out that she was a witch, the separation that it had driven between her and her twin. Petunia was just so jealous! Lily felt so frustrated. If she had the power to give part of her magic to Petunia, she would have, just to make Petunia happy. But there was nothing Lily could do. Petunia was simply not a witch.

“So she’s only a --” Severus caught himself before he could say ‘muggle’. Quickly, he leaned forward and grabbed hold of Lily’s hands. “But we’re going!” he said, excitement bubbling in his voice, “This is it! We’re off to Hogwarts!”

The exhilaration in his voice was insuppressible and extremely contagious. Lily smiled in spite of herself as she mopped her tears from her face with the corners of the witches robes she’d already pulled on.

“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Severus excitedly, “Then we’ll be toge--”

“Slytherin?” James said from the corner, making a face of disapproval. He laughed, “Who wants to be in Slytherin?” he asked. Then he turned to Sirius, a wobbling grin upon his face, “I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

Sirius, who’d still been staring at Severus, snapped to attention at the question. Despite James’s smile, he didn’t smile back. “My whole family’s been in Slytherin,” he replied.

“Blimey!” cried James, eyebrows climbing his forehead, “and I thought you seemed alright!”

This made Sirius grin. Severus was frowning severely, and Lily glanced between the boys, following the conversation as though she were watching a tennis match, an unsure look on her face.

“Maybe I’ll break the tradition,” Sirius said boastfully to James. “Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James stood, his maroon and gold sneakers proudly on display as he brandished an imaginary sword. “Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” he shouted, “Just like my dad.”

Severus snorted.

All three of the others in the compartment turned to look at Severus.

“Got a problem with that?” James demanded, offended by the expression playing across Severus’s face.

“No,” said Severus with a shrug. Normally, he was a quiet boy. His sudden attitude was surprising to Lily, who’d only ever seen him be more on the reserved side. He had a sneer playing on his face now, though, that she’d never seen there before this encounter with the Potter boy. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy…”

Sirius laughed, “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?”

James roared with laugher.

Lily leaped to her feet. She wasn’t sure how she’d thought moments before that James had been a nice boy. To think she’d been on the verge of talking to him about her worries if Sirius hadn’t interrupted them! He probably would’ve made fun of her - the big bully. She scowled at him, anger radiating from her as though she were putting off heat. “Come on, Severus,” she snapped, glaring directly into James’s eyes. “Let’s find another compartment.”

“Ooo-oooh,” Sirius laughed, grinning mockingly at Severus.

James smirked.

Lily grabbed hold of Severus’s hand and pulled him to the door. Severus stumbled as they stepped into the hall and he turned and glowered back at James. “See ya, Snivellus!” called Sirius, and again James and Sirius burst into laughter as the door slammed shut behind them.

Severus, steeled by the old nickname, the embarrassment of the trip to visit the House of Black with Eileen earlier in the year flushing him right up the neck and turning his face red. “C’mon,” he said, attempting to tug Lily down the train car, “I think I saw my cousin Lucius Malfoy in a compartment down this way,” he said. “He’s in Seventh Year - he’s Head Boy. We’ll tell him they’re acting up down here and he’ll probably come punish them like they deserve!” His voice was eager.

Lily glanced back and saw the two boys in the compartment they’d just left divvying up chocolate frogs and other snacks James was pulling from his bag. “Okay, yeah, let’s go,” Lily replied, and she followed Severus down the aisles to another compartment down the way.

Moony

Remus sat huddled against the wall in his compartment on board the Hogwarts Express, his knees tucked up close to his chest, a book balancing upon them, intently reading. The other occupants of the compartment shouted quite loudly, jumping about, tossing a balled up Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean box and pretending that it was a snitch they had to catch as they took turns being seeker, jumping bench to bench and shouting. He’d already switched compartments once or else he’d switch again, but he didn’t want to end up being known as the boy who’d visited every compartment on the train before the first hour was up. He’d have stayed in the first compartment without any trouble at all, if he’d been allowed to. It was held by a couple of seventh year boys who’d been talking quietly on their bench while Remus sat on his side, keeping to himself. But then one of the boy’s cousins had come in, along with a girl who smiled meekly at Remus, and the boy had kicked him out. So Remus had wandered through the train until he found the half-empty compartment in the back of the car where the two rambunctious boys had been sitting alone. They’d introduced themselves as James and Sirius and asked Remus if he was much into Quidditch, which Remus wasn’t, and they’d pretty much ignored him since, choosing instead to play this noisy mock-Quidditch game, only pausing to rush to the sweets trolley.

Nerves were eating away at Remus and his anxiety was only growing with every bounce of the seat as James and Sirius played around him. He struggled to keep his mind on what he was reading - his eyes kept moving over the same sentences over and over and over. Admittedly, he was more afraid of the effects of his - er, condition - than he was of the actual school year. Remus was a nice guy, he knew that much was definitely true about himself, and he wasn’t nervous about making friends for any reason other than trying to explain his monthly “illness” that would keep him out of sight for several days every month.

His mother had warned him many times over to be very, very careful while attending the school, to remember the risks involved in Lycanthropy and that Dumbledore was keeping an eye on him. “Remember, go straight to the headmaster the instant you’re at Hogwarts,” Hope had told him repeatedly as she’d helped to pack his trunk the night before. “Dumbledore has made arrangements for you that will help you in controlling your condition.”

It was always his “condition” that they referred to it as, never directly calling Remus a werewolf. Speaking the word in the Lupin house would elicit a gasp from Hope and a firm scolding from Lyall. “Werewolf is a cursed term, son,” Lyall would say sternly every time the word came up, “You aren’t a - a true werewolf. You’re too good a boy for that. You’d never bite someone - but - I suppose. Just to be safe…”

It had been seven years since Remus had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback in the yard of their cottage, and since that day Lyall and Hope had dedicated their lives to keeping Remus’s condition a secret. They shrouded him away from the world during the days of the full moon, hiding him in a bomb shelter below the garage, which smelled of wet paint and dust. “It’s the only way, son,” Lyall had said apologetically as he stocked the shelves with food to sustain Remus and locked him away until the moon had waned.

When Remus received his letter to Hogwarts, none of them could believe it. Lyall had been sure there had to be some sort of mistake. Surely Dumbledore didn’t know -- But Dumbledore did know. Dumbledore just didn’t hold stock in the belief that werewolves were any more dangerous at Hogwarts than any other sort of magical person was. “So long as certain precautions are taken,” he’d said when they family had gone to meet with him back in May. When Lyall had worried about the other students at Hogwarts at length, Dumbledore had said, “Don’t you worry, Mr. Lupin, I will hammer out the details and we will all have a very pleasant term.” He’d smiled at Remus and winked one of his old blue eyes. Remus heard, via owl, that Dumbledore had spent the summer diligently preparing for Remus’s arrival. But despite all of the headmaster’s enthusiasm, it still had been with a most worried and protective air that Hope and Lyall had brought Remus to the Hogwarts Express that morning.

It’d been easy to be confident on Platform 9�, where Hope and Lyall had been there to do all the worrying for him, but now that they were gone, there was no one to whom the worrying defaulted and Remus was feeling every ounce of it, squeezing up his stomach as the Hogwarts Express roared through the countryside to the school.

Finally exhausted, the two boys fell back onto the benches on either side of the compartment, the one called Sirius sitting next to Remus, and panted breathlessly. James’s hair was even messier than it’d been before they started messing around. Suddenly the door burst open and a bright eyed girl looked in, a shiny Head Girl pin on her chest. “Been told to tell everyone to put on their robes,” the girl said, smiling brightly around at them. “We’re nearly there.”

“Hey Andromeda!” Sirius said, recognizing her. “You got Head Girl? Wow!”

She beamed proudly, “I did. Lucius got Head Boy, too, so the family’s pretty proud. Well most of them. Some of them seem to think mine doesn’t count since I’m Hufflepuff, but wotcher on them.” Andromeda replied. “I better go, got to tell every compartment. See you at the school. Good luck on the lake!” She ducked away, slamming the door behind her.

“That was Andromeda Black,” Sirius explained to James, “She’s my cousin.”

“I don’t know my cousins,” James said. “Our family isn’t too chummy with us. I don’t know why. Mum cries about it a lot, but mum cries a lot in general. Dad says it’s political, the reason we aren’t close, says they’re dark wizards, and they don’t want to get involved in all that.”

Sirius said, “My family’s all pretty dark, too. You heard Andromeda. She’s looked down on for not getting into Slytherin house and on account she has muggle friends. I’m a little afraid of not being Slytherin, because Mother would be hopping but at the same time... ” Sirius looked wistful for a moment. “Well… what do you think about… you know… non pure bloods? Like half bloods and muggleborns and all that?”

Remus looked up from his books, the conversation was suddenly a bit interesting.

James snorted, “Blood status is such a stupid debate. It’s just blood! It’s got nothing to do with how good your magic is, look at squibs! There’s loads of squibs all over the place, isn’t there?”

“Well my family comes from a long, long line of pure blood wizards,” Sirius said, “And my parents are gaga for the whole concept. They’ve been long time supporters of this wizard that wants to stamp out all the lesser bloodlines. They think they’re royalty because of their stupid blood status.”

“Stupid,” James said, “I’m pure blood, too, and I’m not royalty.”

“Probably we have the same blood in our veins then,” Sirius pointed out. “We might even be cousins for all I know.”

“Maybe,” James agreed, laughing. “I haven’t a clue because my family doesn’t put a lot of stock in all that.” He shrugged.

“So you think anyone could be a great wizard, despite what the are?” Remus spoke up.

It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d exchanged names hours and hours ago. James and Sirius looked over at him, startled looks on their faces as though they’d forgotten he was there at all. “Yeah,” James said, “If you can perform magic, why not? Anyone who can perform magic and goes to Hogwarts is on a equal playing field with me as far as I’m concerned. I don’t know anymore magic than anyone else on the train for being pure blood.”

“I’m half blood,” Remus said, “My mum’s a muggle and my dad’s a wizard. He works at the ministry.”

Sirius thought a moment. “Lupin, you said your name was, right?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded.

“Your dad must be Lyall Lupin, the one who wrote the Werewolf Restriction Act of 1963?”

Remus nodded again.

“Well that’s cool,” Sirius said. “My uncle Abraxus Malfoy works at the ministry, too.” He’d have suggested that they were friends but if Lyall Lupin had married a muggle then he knew without even researching it that Abraxus wouldn’t be friends with him.

The door opened again and Andromeda Black stuck her head back in, glowering, “You all need to put on your school robes, will you? We’re pulling up to Hogsmeade Station now!” As though to punctuate her words, the train shuddered to a halt and they could hear the steamy hiss of the engine coming to a stop. She bolted away, shouting down the corridor, trying to get things organized.

James snatched his robes off the cage holding Bubo and Remus dug his up from his knapsack at his feet. Sirius had his on already. Once the boys had gotten ready, they pulled their luggage down from the overhead racks and shuffled together through the crowded train out to the platform at Hogsmeade. Students were going everywhere, bolting around through the dark under the street lamps. “Where do we go?” James asked cluelessly, looking around at Sirius and Remus.

“I don’t know,” Sirius replied.

“Firs’ years, over here!” bellowed a voice. “Firs’ years, over here!”

“There --” Remus pointed over the crowd to a giant of a man -- he had to be over 11 feet tall! -- who was waving and shouting. The majority of the crowd was going the opposite way of the man, so getting over to him was a bit like swimming upstream a powerful river. Remus led the way, followed by James and Sirius all the way to where the giant man was standing with a giant clipboard, which he was making tickmarks upon as students collected around his feet. He had unruly hair that very nearly covered his entire face and beady black eyes that peered out from beneath all of the hair.

James looked around and he spotted Lily and Severus not too far away and a funny feeling came over him, seeing the tear streaks still staining her face, her hand wrapped tightly around Severus’s hand. Neither spotted him looking, and he looked away before they could.

“Firs’ years, come with me,” the giant called, leading the way off the station platform and down a roughly hewn path through a clump of trees. “My name is Rubeus Hagrid,” he called over them as they walked, “I’m the keeper o’ the keys an’ grounds at Hogwarts an’ it’s my job ter git you lot safely ter the school.” He led them out onto a pier and suddenly across the lake they could see the ghostly black shape of the castle against the dark blue of the sky and the wisps of grey clouds that hung around the waning three-quarter moon, all reflecting in a great dark lake that seemed to be made of pure ink in the night. Rubeus Hagrid waved a dust bin lid size hand at a little flock of wood row boats. “Climb aboard,” he instructed.

“He’s mad,” whispered a couple of the first years.

It took a bit for them all to get into the boats but soon James, Sirius, and Remus were huddled together in a little boat along with a couple other first years that they hadn’t met on the train, and the little boats set off across the water at Hagrid’s command, sailing for the castle.

Padfoot

The little boats were very unsteady on the slick black lake. They wobbled side to side as Hagrid magicked them across the water toward the castle. Sirius held a hand over his stomach as they floated along, rocking, and murmured, “I wish I hadn’t eaten all those pumpkin pasties!” He looked mighty green around the gills.

“Well if you go puking make sure you do it over the edge of the boat,” James instructed, a nervous look on his face.

“The water’s actually really calm tonight, you’re lucky. Usually this size boat gets really choppy,” Remus said. Both James and Sirius gave him surprised looks. “My Dad and I used to go fishing with my uncle on my mum’s side and his son,” he explained. “It’s a muggle pastime, fishing. They just go fishing for the fun of it. It’s some sort of bonding ritual, I guess.”

“Blimey,” James said, eyes wide, “They do this for the fun of it?”

“And they have to manually row to make it move on top of that,” Remus said, nodding.

“Nutters,” Sirius groaned. He was about to lean over the side to be sick when he spotted Severus and Lily in the next boat over, staring in rapture up at the castle ahead as they drew nearer and nearer. Severus was glaring at them, his head inclined as though to listen in on their conversation.

“Some do it for food,” Remus was saying, still talking about the fishing trips, “But most are just in fun.”

Sirius smirked evilly. “Hear that part of the talk, Snivelly?” he asked, “You could go fishing next time you’re feeling hungry back home. Keep it in mind, ey?”

Severus’s face, which was already quite pale on it’s own, was actually even paler in the moonlight, but his scowl was no less pronounced - perhaps even more so in the contrast of it. It was Lily, though, that turned around, her eyes squinting in anger at the boys. “Just ignore them, Sev, they’re just a bunch of bullying prats!”

“I didn’t even say anything!” James snapped defensively.

Lily replied, “You didn’t tell him not to say anything either!”

“Sorry, was I supposed to be able to control everyone else at Hogwarts, then?” James demanded.

Lily shrugged, “Maybe pick your friends wiser.”

“Why don’t you pick your friends wiser?” asked Sirius hotly, “I’m sure you could’ve done better than Severus Snape.”

Lily scowled and turned her back to them.

“What was that all about?” Remus asked. The other two first years in the boat, who had spent most of the journey across whispering to each other quietly, looked equally disquieted by the exchange.

James replied, “That girl is batty.”

Sirius nodded, “Anyone wanting to be ‘round Severus Snape would have to be.”

Remus glanced over toward the other boat, where Severus and Lily were talking quietly now, heads bowed together, and wondered why Sirius seemed to hate the boy so much. He couldn’t see anything wrong with him, really, other than the fact that he had rather greasy hair and a sort of malnourished skinniness to him. His long, crooked nose seemed wildly larger than it should have, given the narrowness of the rest of his body. But a big nose didn’t make anybody a bad person before.

Remus wondered what Sirius would think of him if he knew he was a werewolf and he vowed at that moment to never tell his secret to anyone.

The little boats continued on, Hagrid oblivious to the growing animosity between the two boats, and soon they were right at the very foot of the castle. The rocking had slowed now they were closer to a shore, which Sirius was thankful for, he’d decided already he much preferred a broom to a boat, and was looking forward to when they could disembark from the things. They glided into what looked like a low cliff that brought them beneath the castle itself and into a sort of dungeon-like boat dock. One by one, the boats skirted the edge of a large stone landing and Hagrid, who’d gotten ashore first, helped all of the first years out and onto the ground.

“A’right then,” Hagrid said, counting up the little boats to be sure nobody had been lost out on the water, “Yeh ready fer the sortin’, you lot?” he looked around at them, “Mus’ be excited. I remember me own sortin’... seems like ages ago…” Careful no to trod on any of the tiny first years, he made his way to the door opposite the boats and herded them through it into a long corridor, past stationary suits of armor and paintings and what seemed like a million old, wooden doors. They made their way up a long staircase and found themselves in a narrow little room where they all crowded around behind Hagrid. He looked them over, waited for the last of them to arrive into the group, and said, “Now yer’ta wait here,” he instructed, “Professor McGonagall will be comin’ ‘round fer yeh in a mo’. Nice lady, she is. She’ll bring yeh in ter the Hall ter be sorted. Good luck, the lot of yeh!” He grinned under all that hair and turned and walked away.

The first years looked around at one another, a nervous energy filtering through the crowd of them. Sirius looked at James and Remus with wide eyes. Sirius whispered, “I’m so bloody nervous.”

“Me, too,” James admitted.

“And I,” agreed Remus.

Sirius could feel his palms beginning to pool sweat. If he ended up in Slytherin, he didn’t know what he would do. Then again, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t, either. His parents would not be happy at all if he was in any of the other houses, but a part of him wanted so desperately to defy them in some way and being sorted to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff seemed the ultimate way to do it. At least if he went to Hufflepuff, he’d be with his cousin Andromeda, who was much more kind than most of the other people in his family…

The door opened again and all the first years looked up to see a witch with long brown hair that hung in a braid over her shoulder. She wore emerald green robes and a tall hat. She had a sort of beauty about her sharp, young features. She smiled at them all in a friendly sort of way. “My name is Minerva McGonagall,” she announced, “And I’m here to bring you all into the Sorting Ceremony.” Her voice carried a thick Scottish twinge to it. “You will follow me out this doorway to the Great Hall, where the other year students have had a seat at their house tables, and one by one you will be sorted. Once you have been sorted, you will go and sit at your respective house table, where you will meet the rest of your house members and we will all enjoy the start of term feast.” Her eyes twinkled conspiratorially, “I have heard,” she added, “That the house elves of Hogwarts have quite outdone themselves with the meal this year, so please, give us no troubles, so that we may all sit down and eat as quickly as possible.”

There was a muttering assent through all the first years, and Professor McGonagall turned and led them through the door and into a wide room, decorated with banners that bore the Hogwarts crest - lion, raven, badger, snake. Standing up at the head of the room was a long table with a bunch of teachers seated at it, looking on joyfully as the lot of first years shuffled by behind McGonagall. In the center stood a large podium and behind it was a middle-aged wizard with a long greying red beard, wearing purple robes flecked with silver stars. He smiled as they walked in, peering at them through half-moon spectacles.

“That’s Dumbledore,” whispered Remus to James and Sirius.

McGonagall led them to the center of the front of the hall, facing the teachers, and stopped them there, then went to the corner and brought over a short, three legged stool and a worn out old brown hat that looked quite pathetic. She put the hat on the stool and stepped back.

There was a long pause of silence, everyone around the hall staring expectantly at the hat. Most of the first years looked quite confused, but Sirius whispered, “That’s a magic hat, that is.” James and Remus looked over at him, “It can read your mind, like, and tell you what house you belong in.” They looked amazed and turned back to stare at the hat.

Suddenly, the brim split open and the hat seemed to come to life. It started to sing, even.

“Welcome, new students of all status, to Hogwarts castle
Where throughout the year you will learn new skills -
Though attending class and studying might seem like quite a hassle
I promise you that your time here will be filled with joy and thrills!

You’ll meet more magic folk your age, and make lots of friends
Everyone here is here because they’ve earned their spot -
Within the walls of Hogwarts blood status prejudice ends -
For here you are all welcome but that old debate is not.

That debate has already torn the Hogwarts school asunder
Which is why I must split you up - Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin -
So let’s find out so that you must no longer wonder
Which house of the four will be the one that you will belong in.

Will it be Gryffindor, where dwell the mighty brave?
Gryffindor is courageous, yes, but hardly ever behave!

Maybe you’ll be Slytherin, who seek power and fame
But beware for they do not care who they hurt in the game...

Or perhaps the Ravenclaw house will help you to learn -
In them is a mighty thirst for knowledge that will forever burn.

Then there’s Hufflepuff, the kindest, hardest working of the lot -
They’ll take you in no matter what, accept you even if the other houses do not.

So c’mon up here, one by one, and place me on your heads
We’ll get you sorted into your houses in a snap
And then we can all eat and make our way off to bed
For it’s almost time for me, the Sorting Hat, to get back to my year-long nap!”

Everyone clapped in the entire hall, and the applause echoed off the ceiling and the walls. The first years seemed filled with a new determination and soon they were all shuffling forward as McGonagall opened a scroll and read off the first name - Abbot, Gifford! - and one by one the students shuffled their way up to the stool and put the hat atop their head.

Sirius didn’t have long to wait.

“Black, Sirius!”

A refined cheer came from the Slytherin table, which was dotted with faces that Sirius knew from various family functions, and Andromeda stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted, “Go on Sirius!” at the top of her voice, clapping wildly.

His heart seemed to crawl slowly up into his throat and Sirius climbed up onto the stool and Professor McGonagall put the hat down on his head. It set upon him and he waited. Then, he heard a voice. “Oh, well, you’re of the so-called Noble House of Black, I see…” mused the voice. “I hope you were listening to my song tonight, it was aimed at those who think the way that your family does, you know.”

“I don’t think like that, though,” Sirius told the hat quietly. “I don’t want to be like them.”

“No?” asked the hat, an amused tone to it’s voice, “But you’d be great, you know. You’d accrue so much power in Slytherin. You’d be part of something that’s brewing, getting closer everyday. A great part, an integral part. Perhaps even famous one day for it…”

“I could become famous in any house,” Sirius argued, “I could be a great wizard in any house.”

“But what would your family think?” asked the hat.

Sirius felt his stomach twist at the question. “I don’t know,” he said, then, “I’m not sure that I care, either.”

“You would defy generations of Black family tradition?” the hat questioned.

Sirius thought it over for a moment. “For what’s right? Sure.”

The hat chuckled to itself. “I can’t believe this but --- GRYFFINDOR!” it shouted the last part for everyone to hear, not just Sirius.

The hat was lifted off his head, and Sirius felt his heart richotcheting off his rib cage. The people at the Slytherin table looked absolutely stunned, and there were frowning, shaking heads now dotting the table. Even Andromeda’s eyes were wide with surprise, but a bit of a sparkle and a hint of a grin was crawling across her face. The same could not be said for Lucius Malfoy, who had stood up, prepared to welcome the first of the new first years to the Slytherin table. He looked positively barking mad. He sat down quickly, sour in the face, and Sirius knew that his would not be the first disapproving glare that he would receive.

The Gryffindor table, however, had gone ballistic, screaming and waving their hands, beckoning Sirius to them - the first of the new Gryffindors. “C’mon Sirius!” called a red-haired boy with freckles across his nose. He looked to be much older, but he was last along the bench before the open space reserved for new Gryffindors. He grinned and patted the bench beside him and Sirius scrambled from the stool and rushed over, joining him at the table. “I’m Bilius Weasley,” the boy greeted him, “Welcome to Gryffindor.”

Sirius grinned, “Thanks,” he said, and he shook the boy’s warm hand excitedly.

Lily

One of the awful boys from the train had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Well, thought Lily, tightening her grip on Severus’s hand, that settled that - she definitely did not want to be sorted to Gryffindor if that was the sort that ended up in that house! She couldn’t imagine spending the entire term with Sirius Black sharing the same breathing space as her. It made her shudder. Besides - it would be utter chaos, him and Severus together in one room all term! They’d be fighting constantly!

Lily watched a couple more students sorted - Carin, Dorothy and Drewer, Penelope both went to Hufflepuff - and then Professor McGonagall called, “Evans, Lily!”

The world seemed to stop. She turned, panicked, to Severus. “I’m scared Sev,” she whispered in a rush. She stared up at him. Her palms were all sweaty and she didn’t want to let go of his hand - it felt safe. This was the moment they’d both been waiting for, constantly talking about for two years, and now that it was here she was too terrified to take the step towards the stool.

Severus’s pale face stared back at her with a hint of a gentle smile growing beneath his dark, sparkling eyes. “Go on,” he said, encouraging her. “You’ll be brilliant.”

“What if I trip on the way up to the stool?” she asked. She’d asked him this at least a hundred times before, probably a hundred times a day even, and she knew, even as she said the words exactly what he would say in reply.

“Then I’ll catch you,” Severus said, “I’ll always catch you, Lily.”

She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves with his words.

“But I won’t have to,” he said, “You’ll be okay. I’ll see you in a minute at the Slytherin table!” Severus pulled her hand away from his and pushed her gently forward.

Lily swallowed and turned, nervously climbing the steps to the stool and sat down gingerly upon it. Professor McGonagall smiled down at her, “There you are, m’deary,” she said, her Scottish accent lilting the words. Despite the harshness of her face, Professor McGonagall had a really kind smile and it was comforting, so Lily smiled back and McGonagall said, “Here comes the hat, dear,” then dropped it onto her head.

The last thing Lily saw before the hat covered her eyes was the hopeful, eager look of anticipation on Severus’s face.

“Interesting…” said a voice. Lily jumped in surprise. The hat hadn’t been talking aloud to anyone else. She panicked for a moment, wondering if everyone could hear it. “No,” the Hat replied, “Only me and you. Anything we say here is between us. No one else can hear us.”

“Even me?” she whispered.

“Even you,” answered the Hat.

“You must use magic to create a soundproof barrier, then?” she questioned.

“Yes. We’re under a muffliato charm,” the Hat explained. The Hat chuckled in her ear, “Yes… yes… exactly. You are a smart one, aren’t you? Yes… yes I see, very smart indeed. Hmm… And a hard worker, too. I see a lot of ambition, but not overdone… Goodness, but you are a powerful witch, you’ll do amazing things - very amazing things.. Hmm.”

“Are you looking at my brains?” Lily questioned.

“I am. Your driving forces, as well, looking at what makes you tick,” the Hat said. “You’ve got a lot of love in you. That’s a mighty, ancient power that many wizards don’t understand the scope of. You’re a rare one, Lily Evans. Very rare indeed. Now… where to put you… You’d do marvelous in Ravenclaw, with such a quick wit and smarts…”

Lily felt her stomach twist. “Please,” she told the hat, “Let me be in Slytherin. I want to be with my friend Severus and he’s going to be in Slytherin, his whole family’s been. Please.”

The hat chuckled again. “Slytherin? You in Slytherin? Goodness me, no that would never work. Didn’t you listen to a moment of my song? A muggle-born in Slytherin… really…”

“Please,” she begged, “Sev needs me.”

“Needs you?” the Hat said, “You don’t understand, you’d be eaten alive in Slytherin… You wouldn’t ever fit in.”

Lily answered, “I can take it. It doesn’t matter that I won’t fit in. I need to be with Severus. We’re best friends, you see, and he oughtn’t to be alone. He needs a friend to talk to, and - and I can’t just go off and be in Ravenclaw without him! Don’t you see? I’m willing to take on whatever the Slytherins can chuck at me to stay with Sev.”

The Hat was quiet for a moment. Something about how it felt made Lily think that if Hats could smile then this one certainly would have done. “Well, Lily Evans,” said the Hat, “You’ve certainly convinced me. Ravenclaw truly isn’t the right house for you. You’re right.”

“So… I’m off to Slytherin then?” Lily asked happily.

“Oh goodness no, I stand by what I said about Slytherin. You’re far too brave for Slytherin, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw,” the Hat said. At the word ‘brave’ a chasm split open in Lily’s stomach. “Best to be --”

“No, no please, not --” Lily began but before she could finish --

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Professor McGonagall pulled the Hat off Lily’s head and her hair fell ‘round her shoulders and she sat there on the stool, utterly perplexed, her palms on her thighs, blinking into the bright light of the Great Hall. Though it was blurry, she could see the Gryffindors had all stood up and begun cheering and punching the air with enthusiasm, but she could only clearly see the heartbroken, lost look on Severus’s face. Gone was the excited gleam, that sparkle in his eye. His pale face just stared up at her, and his nostrils flared with emotion as he set his jaw and watched her get up from the stool rather numbly.

“Off you go,” McGonagall said, shooing her towards the Gryffindor table, “Right over that way, Miss. Evans, have a seat.”

Lily nodded and started for the cheering Gryffindors, glancing back at Severus and trying to force a smile, but it was too hard and it faltered and she had to look away before she began to cry or something equally embarrassing.

“Gryffindor! All right!” Sirius was excitedly moving down to make Lily some space.

She thought she would’ve rathered sit anywhere at all than next to Sirius Black. She left quite a bit of space between the two of them and turned her back resolutely to stare at the front of the room as the sorting continued. The next two Gryffindors were also boys - Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Remus slid into the space between Lily and Sirius, heartily celebrating with his new friend from the trains, which Lily was quite thankful for the buffer between herself and the boy she couldn’t stand. Peter, however, sat obnoxiously close to Lily and looked her over appraisingly with his beady little eyes and rather large front teeth before turning around dismissively. Lily felt immediately uncomfortable with Peter Pettigrew, though she didn’t know why, he was just a twitchy, strange little boy with odd mannerisms. She inched a bit closer to Remus, not that she was much more comfortable with him, but he was certainly preferable to Peter or Sirius.

“Potter, James!”

Lily watched the other boy she couldn’t stand swagger up to the stool and sit down upon it with an air of assured confidence, his robes riding up to reveal his maroon and gold trainers. He grinned and gave Sirius a thumbs-up. But just before McGonagall dropped the hat upon him, his eyes met Lily’s and he grinned, a silly, wonky sort of grin, and he winked at her, then disappeared beneath the Sorting Hat.

Lily felt her stomach flip over. She wondered what in Merlin’s name had made James Potter wink at her and what it had meant that he had. She looked around and spotted Severus scowling in the crowd of still-waiting first years, staring up at James Potter with a hateful glare that could’ve curdled milk. She wondered if Severus had seen the wink, if he thought her allegiances had changed so quickly. Surely he knew her better than that, she thought. But just in case, she made a very important mental note to tell him so as soon as she possibly could get a chance to. In fact - she thought, as Peter twitched and Sirius hissed ‘come on, Gryffindor, say it hat’ - she would go to the headmaster after the feast and tell him she’d been sorted into the wrong house. She looked up at Dumbledore and pictured the look of dismay and understanding that would cross over those wrinkled features. Of course he would immediately switch her to Slytherin and all would be well.

“GRYFFINDOR!” the Hat had taken barely a moment to choose and James flung it off into McGonagall’s hand rather quickly and rushed the Gryffindor table, running up one side and back down the length of the other, slapping high-fives to every outstretched palm on his way, grinning as though he’d just won the Quidditch World Cup or something.

“Yes! YES! YES!” Sirius was yelling, jumping up onto his bench seat and shouting, waving his hands in the air like a crazy person as James hurried down to where they were sitting, out of breath, and hair messily flung ‘round his forehead.

When James reached her, Lily didn’t extend her hand to return his high-five and he slapped Peter Pettigrew’s half-heartedly, standing before her, their eyes locked. He grinned at her. “Push down,” he said, indicating he wanted the space next to her.

“What in the world makes you think that I would want you to sit next to me?” she demanded, “You’re such an assuming, arrogant little --”

“I want to sit next to my friends,” James interrupted, indicating Remus and Sirius, who were turned to face them. Lily felt her face grow flush and she scooted down. James leaned in. “Now who’s the assuming, arrogant one, ey?” He winked again.

Lily turned her back, and found herself face-to-twitchy-face with Peter Pettigrew.

“You’re the only girl,” he said.

“What?” Lily looked around as Peter pointed down the table. There were other girl Gryffindors, but as for new first years in the Gryffindor house… well, it was just Sirius, James, Remus, Peter and… her.

“You’re the only girl,” Peter Pettigrew repeated.

Lily turned to face forward, feeling stunned, just as the hat was shouting, “SLYTHERIN!” She looked up and realized she’d missed seeing Severus Snape be sorted and he was already handing McGonagall the sorting hat back and heading over to the Slytherin table, where a tall, pale blonde haired boy with a shining badge pinned to his chest was standing up and welcoming him warmly to the table.

She had never felt so alone in all of her life.

Severus

“Snape, Severus!”

Severus looked over at Lily.

She was talking to James Potter.

A strange feeling swept through Severus, like his intestines were being twisted like a balloon animal inside of him. He grit his teeth and balled his fists and walked up the steps to the little stool, his heart threatening to crack down the middle. A very sinister part of him wanted to shock them all and be sorted Gryffindor - family tradition and expectation be damned, at that moment all he wanted was an excuse to go over to that table and take back Lily’s attention.

He sat and Professor McGonagall dropped the hat upon his head. There was no conversation, no debate, no hesitation on the part of the hat. It landed, thought for about twelve seconds, and bellowed out it’s decision, “SLYTHERIN!”

Severus didn’t even look over at the Gryffindor table as he climbed off the stool and rushed down the steps. If she cared about him she’d have been watching when he walked up the steps to begin with! He’d always known, from day one, that there was a possibility of her being swallowed up into one of the other houses - a possibility that was more likely than not given that she was muggle born, but he’d been in denial. He just hadn’t ever wanted to imagine his life without Lily in it everyday. Being in separate houses might as well have been different planets. Especially Gryffindor and Slytherin! If she’d only been sorted to Ravenclaw, it would’ve been a bit easier to mingle more often but it had to be the dead opposites, the greatest opponents of the whole school.

And she had to have been sorted into the same house as Sirius Black and James Potter.

“Welcome to Slytherin, Severus,” Lucius Malfoy, one of Severus’s cousins, said, greeting him with a firm handshake. “Mother said we might see the son of Eileen Prince come today.” He held his chin level with the floor, staring down his angular cheekbones at Severus as he spoke. He waved a hand to the bench for Severus to sit down.

“Yeah,” Severus nodded, “We heard you got Head Boy.”

“Yes,” Lucius reached up and polished his badge with the sleeve of his robe.

“Luce,” hissed a black haired boy beside Lucius, nudging him with his elbow, “Did you get a load of Bilius Weasley’s hair? What happened, he stick his hand in an electric socket then?” The boy sniggered.

Lucius leaned to look around the head of the witch seated across from him at a squat boy with flaming red hair at the Gryffindor table. His hair was wildly sticking up in every direction and his old, second hand robes were an odd color, not quite black and not quite brown, just something in between. “Pathetic,” Lucius murmured with a smirk.

“Isn’t that your cousin next to him?” the other boy asked.

Lucius glared at Sirius Black. “Yes…” he murmured.

“Why’s he in Gryffindor of all places?”

Lucius shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest.”

“He was talking big on the train,” Severus spoke up, “With that Potter boy next to him, boasting how he wanted to be the one to break the tradition of the family being sorted to Slytherin.”

Lucius snorted. “Figures.”

“Who’s that other kid with him over there? He looks familiar.”

“That’s Lyall Lupin’s son,” Lucius answered.

“I thought Lupin’s kid died?”

“No, Mulciber,” Lucius answered, “Obviously. He’s right there.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well obviously I know that now, didn’t think he was a ghost or nothin’! I’m just sayin’ I ain’t never seen Lupin’s kid before. Have you?” Mulciber demanded.

Lucius’s voice was icy. “Why would I have?” he asked. “It’s not as though I go hanging about with blood traitors all the time. Falling in love with a muggle woman.” Lucius made a face, his upper lip bent into a sneer as he watched Remus, James and Sirius goofing off with one another across the hall, “Their son’s a filthy mudblood. Look at him - he just looks filthy and pathetic.”

It was true. There was a scrawny, strange sort of look to him, as though he were sickly or something. “Looks like he’s ill or something. Doesn’t look like he’ll make it through the term,” snickered Mulciber.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll do him in,” Lucius laughed. “That’s the sort of filth that a Slytherin headmaster never would have let in. Even in Armando Dippet’s time the policy hadn’t changed much from when Phineas Nigellis was headmaster... It’s this newest headmaster Hogwarts has gone and appointed. Albus Dumbledore.” He rolled his eyes. “Three years of the student body slowly turning to filth.” Lucius shook his head. “It’s too bad Voldemort didn’t get the teaching position he was after -- that would have revolutionized the school, for sure.”

Severus made a face, “Who is Voldemort?” he asked.

Lucius turned around to face Severus, “The greatest Dark Wizard there ever was,” he said in a reverend voice. Up front of the hall, Albus Dumbledore had gotten up and traversed to the front of the staff table where a podium stood, but neither Lucius nor Severus turned to look. Lucius’s voice lowered. “He’s so powerful, immortal they say - and he’s only getting stronger. Mother and Father were friends with him back in school, and they’re devoted followers of his, on his inner circle. He trusts them. When he’s taken power… they’ll be greatly rewarded. And so shall I. I’ve already joined up for when I leave here in the Spring.” Lucius looked around and rolled up his robe’s sleeve. On his left arm was a crisp new tattoo of a skull with a winding snake coming from it’s mouth. The skin around the tattoo was rippled and Severus realized that it wasn’t there from inking it was burned into the skin, like a branding. His stomach rolled because it seemed like it must’ve been a terribly painful thing to experience - being branded like that so powerfully that the mark would be so clear, so dark. Lucius rolled his sleeve back down. “It’s his way to communicate with his followers, see,” he explained. “The Dark Mark burns when he touches any of his followers marks and we know then to apparate to him immediately.” Lucius looked quite self important. “Obviously, I’m exempted from responding, being as I’m in school.”

Severus nodded because he wasn’t sure what else to say.

Up at the front of the Hall, Dumbledore was clearing his throat. Apparently Lucius and Severus were not the only two that hadn’t silenced at his arrival to the podium. Slowly, a hush went over the Great Hall and most of the eyes in the room were turned to Dumbledore. Lucius had leaned over to talk to the witch across from him while Mulciber turned to another rather large boy on his other side.

Severus looked across the hall at Lily. She was staring quite attentively up at Dumbledore, her eyes wide with anticipation of what he would say. Even the boys around her had stopped their horsing around to pay attention.

“Welcome to the start of term feast,” Dumbledore said in a wobbly sort of voice. He smiled around at them, his palms stretched out to his sides. Dumbledore’s half-moon spectacles reflected the students upturned faces. “I’m sure we are all very, very hungry, and so I will not prattle on just yet, but let the house elves present us with what is rumored to be one of their best works of culinary masterpieces… Kip, kip!” He clapped his hands and with a many pop-pop-pops, the tables were suddenly populated by a host of plates and mouthwatering foods.

Severus’s eyes widened as he looked it over, his stomach felt full just looking at it. He looked up at Lucius. “Is this all for us?” he asked, astonished.

“Haven’t you ever seen food before?” Lucius asked coldly. The girl across from him cackled.

Severus didn’t bother to reply, he just started snatching food to his plate hungrily. He took hold of a roll from one of the plates and split it open and smelled it. The warmth of the bread was yeasty and buttery smelling and just the scent of it made him groan with pleasure. It had been ages since he’d had anything resembling warm bread, usually it was whatever his mother could conjure up and it wasn’t very good. Usually the bread was hard and stale when they could get it. Severus took a bite and the fibers of it seemed to melt on his mouth. He closed his eyes in a sort of food ecstasy, then turned to the rest of his plate which was piled high with turkey and a pork chop and a potato jacket with all of the fixings and beans and snow peas in gravy. He eagerly began to devour the food as though he were afraid it would disappear.

“You know, Lucius,” said the girl across from him, “Perhaps he hasn’t seen food before.” She pointed with her fork at Severus.

Lucius looked over and snapped, “Slow down. You look disgusting eating like that. Are you an animal, Severus?”

“No,” Severus answered, stopping eating to mop off his face with a napkin beside him.

“Then please refrain from eating as though you are one,” Lucius responded. “Anyway - as I was saying, Narcissa --” and Lucius launched back into a conversation with the witch about his experiences with the Dark Lord in a lowered voice.

Severus chewed slower on the pork chop as he watched Lily Evans again. She was picking at her potato jacket, staring down at it, looking so very out of place over at the Gryffindor table. Severus wished he could go over and talk to her, he hated seeing her alone like that, poking the potato’s skin sadly with a fork. He glanced up at the old hat still sitting on it’s stool at the front of the Hall and wondered why in the world it couldn’t have just sent her to Slytherin and made all this quite a lot easier than it had turned out to be.

After they’d had their fill of the dinner foods they suddenly disappeared to be replaced by sweets of every kind. Mountains of magically unmelting ice creams and fondue with little cookies on tiny plates all around. Cakes and treacle tarts and pumpkin pasties and even a bowl of chocolate frogs. Severus grabbed several chocolate frogs and shoved them into his pockets for later, and ate at least two pieces of treacle tart before he couldn’t put another bite into his mouth. He couldn’t ever remember having felt as full as he did then.

Dumbledore stood up once the clinking and clattering of flatware against plates had ceased and with another clap of his hands the food and plates were gone and the tables were bare. He walked up to the podium again and said, “Well, that certainly was everything that it has been built up to be - a generous thank you to the elves who prepared it.” He smiled and applauded, though no elves were anywhere to be seen in the Great Hall. A couple of hesitant, confused sounding claps mimicked his around the tables. Dumbledore smiled, “Now, I just have a few words for you and then it’ll be off to bed with you… First of all, I must announce that our fine gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, has assisted our Herbology instructor, Professor Eureka Viridi, in obtaining a very unique addition to the greenery at Hogwarts. It is a tree that has been planted on the grounds called a Whomping Willow. Now, I am aware that trees are rather inviting and setting beneath one while doing your revisions is most delightful, but I must implore all of you to please give this Whomping Willow a respectful berth as the tree is young and quite violent and though Madam Pomfrey, our new maladies nurse in the ward, is most talented, the blows of the Whomping Willow are quite painful and the skele-gro potion is not a drink to aid in having a pleasurable evening.” He smiled merrily about at them before continuing.

“Next, as always, the Forbidden Forest shall remain to live up to it’s name as it is forbidden. Our caretaker, Argus Filch, has requested I inform everyone that his cat, Mrs. Norris, is not to be teased, kicked, or in anyway abused as she is still recovering from having her tail set on fire last term by a misaimed Filibuster Firework. Remember students, if you are to play with such things as Filibuster’s Fireworks - which Mr. Filch has kindly requested time and again you do not - at least know the aguamenti charm to put them out once they have set fire to any of the Hogwarts property or, most especially, any students or creatures that may catch flame as well.

Last but not least, I do want to remind us all that we are one family of Hogwarts residents. These are questionable times politically, not that I wish to trouble any of you with the world that brews around us when you are so blissfully young and unaware of the way such things work. It is important, however, in such times, that the divisions between us be forgotten and the things which unite us become more important than ever before. We are all magical beings, with a past and a future and stories that weave throughout the very fabrics of time. Respect each other’s stories.” He smiled warmly. “Now… off to bed, the lot of you, it is very late and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day of falling asleep in warm classrooms. Goodnight!”

Prongs

James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily all followed Bilius Weasley and the other Gryffindors out of the Great Hall and up many staircases. He brought them up, up, up - higher and higher into the castle - until they were in one of the great towers that they had seen from across the lake. "This is Gryffindor Tower," Bilius said, and, waving at a portrait on the wall, he added, "This is the Fat Lady and she is the only way in to the common room."

The portrait smiled at them serenely, fanning herself gently with a little wooden fan. "Unseasonably warm for September, isn't it?" she asked, then, "Bilius, you best be on good behavior this term, I've heard about Mr. Filch's cat."

“That was you?” James asked, laughing, “With the Filibuster Fireworks?” The three boys had laughed so hard they’d nearly cried when Dumbledore had mentioned the bit about the cat’s tail catching fire. Lily had frowned and muttered something about it being cruelty to animals, as though anyone could purposely set a cat’s tail on fire with a firework.

Bilius grinned in response to the accusation.

The Fat Lady sighed, "That grin is not very promising of a reform, Bilius!"

“We are in the presence of greatness, boys,” James said, grinning back at Bilius.

“Hail, hail,” Sirius joked.

“Okay, okay,” Bilius said, waving his hands for them to calm down as Sirius mimicked bowing down to him. He chuckled. “Gillyweed.”

At first, they thought he was talking nonsense or using some unknown slang they hadn’t yet learned, but then to the amazement of the first years, the portrait swung open like a door and revealed a short little hole through which to climb and a great room beyond.

"In you go," Bilius said, waving them in.

They climbed through, one by one, and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. James looked around in excitement. It was exactly as he had always imagined it from listening to his dad's stories! Great cushy chairs and a huge fireplace with lamps and couches and pillows and brilliant paintings all about depicting the heroic lives of former house members. The others stared around, too, and even Lily, who had been rather sour since being sorted differently than she had hoped, seemed to light up with awe at the room.

"Hey Alice!" Bilius called a girl over and she came. Her hair was cut short and she had wide, beautiful eyes under a pair of tortoise shell spectacles, "Could'ja do me a good one and show Lily the girl's dormitories? She's the only girl first year for Gryffindor!"

Alice's eyes widened, "Wow! Good on you, you'll get your own room then."

"My own? Like... alone?" Lily sounded uncertain.

Alice smiled warmly, "C'mon, you'll be more excited once you see it!” She waved Lily towards herself and the two girls headed up the spiral staircase toward the girl’s dormitories, “You won’t be as lonely as you think, us second years are just down the stairs from your room and you can come down and hang out with us any time - I’ve got a subscription to Teen Witch this term, we do the hair styling charms together and --” They disappeared through the door at the top of the stairs.

Once Lily and Alice had departed, Bilius led Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James up the stairs on the opposite end of the common room up into the tippy-top of the Gryffindor tower. “Here’s your dormitory,” Bilius said, pushing open the very top room’s door wide and letting the boys in. “Your luggage should all be up here already.”

Indeed, it was. Each of the four poster beds in the room had a trunk at the foot of it, a night stand beside each held a lamp and on the wall nearest them was a row of desks, each bearing a copy of the First Years’ timetables on a parchment signed by Professor McGonagall.

“Well, lads, it’s late and I’ve got Ancient Runes first thing in the morning,” Bilius said. He picked up the time table closest to where he stood and waved it, “Your classes are on here. Be sure you leave a bit early as the staircases are a bit confusing at first. I’m on the second floor up from the bottom if you need me, just knock and, s’long as one of my roommates don’t kill you, I’ll be right out to help you in a jif!” Bilius waved and ducked out of the room.

The moment the door closed, James said, “That bloke could do with a comb.”

“Maybe we could pool our knuts and order him one for Christmas,” Sirius said with a laugh.

Remus was looking over their timetables. “Looks like that Professor McGonagall is the head of the house. “And she teaches Transfiguration.”

Sirius leaped over the bed to Remus, jumping on the mattress and making the springs screech with the weight of him. He snatched his own copy of the timetable off the desk. “Brilliant!” he bellowed, looking it over, “We’ve got flying lessons tomorrow afternoon!” As though that were the only thing the page said, he dropped it onto the desk and dropped down to his knees before his trunk.

“F-flying?” stammered the twitchy Peter Pettigrew from near his bed, where he was pulling on a pair of awful blue pajamas that made his rounded figure look like an elderly man. “Already? Isn’t flying hard?”

“Haven’t you ever flown before?” James asked, looking up from where he was stowing Bubo’s empty owl cage into a closet in the corner.

Peter shook his head.

“I haven’t either,” confessed Remus, “Too close to muggle residences. We used brooms for - you know, sweeping.”

James looked shocked. “What a waste of a perfectly good broom!” he exclaimed. He paused then, horrorstruck, “Wait. Haven’t you ever played Quidditch?”

Peter and Remus both shook their heads.

“Bloody hell!” James exclaimed.

“I’ve played,” Sirius said from the floor, where he was pulling stuff out of his trunk and chucking it down, looking for his pajamas. “With my cousins. I’m not great at flying, but it’s not that hard, really. The more nervous you are about it the harder it gets.”

“I’ll be a total failure, then,” Peter lamented as he crawled into his bed.

“I’ve got my own broom at home,” James said, ignoring Peter. “I couldn’t bring it as it’s against the rules, but I’ve been flying practically since before I could walk. Dad was on the Gryffindor team when he was here at Hogwarts. He played Keeper. We played loads just one on one, chucking a quaffle around and sometimes we’d use a muggle golf ball and catch it like it was a snitch. I’m really good. Not to brag…”

Remus snorted. “Sure sounds like bragging to me.”

“So are you trying out for the team, then?” Sirius asked.

“Of course,” James replied. “I plan to be the youngest seeker Gryffindor’s ever seen!” He was standing on his trunk now, mocking catching an invisible snitch from the air.

Peter Pettigrew shook his head from his bed, where he’d pushed the blankets to the foot and was using just the sheets for cover. “You can’t try out ‘til next year,” he said, “First years aren’t allowed.”

“There goes that plan,” Sirius said, grinning up at James.

“I’ll just sneak out onto the pitch for try outs and by the time they know I’m a first year, they’ll have seen me play; they won’t be able to kick me out! They’ll have to let me onto the team, I’m that good,” James voice lilted arrogantly.

“Wow,” Remus laughed, “Careful when you’re walking around James that you don’t hit anything sharp with that humongous ego of yours - it might pop.”

James grinned, “It’s not a big ego if it’s true, mate.”

Sirius laughed, too, “Well we will see tomorrow when you get on a broom.”

“That’s right - you will!” James flopped himself onto the bed, putting his arms up behind his head. He let out a sigh. “Can you believe we’re finally here at last?” he asked dreamily, beaming up at the canopy of his bed.

Sirius looked up, “Not even a smidge,” he answered. Finally extracting his pajamas, he shoved the rest of his stuff back into his trunk in an even messier pile and closed the lid, which stayed half open, the sleeve of a robe hanging out over the edge. “I’ve been thinking I’d be in Slytherin for all this time, ever since I was old enough to say the word Slytherin! To be in Gryffindor --” he shook his head. “I won’t believe it even in our seventh year.” He chuckled. “Mother ought to be sending me a howler about it tomorrow, I reckon.”

Remus was still looking over their schedules. “I reckon my mum is just happy I’ve a chance at coming to Hogwarts,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sirius asked, looking over at Remus as he tugged his pajamas on over his head.

Remus shrugged awkwardly and looked back down at the schedule. “We’ve got Charms first thing in the morning with a Professor Flitwick.”

“That’s the little short guy that was up at the teacher’s table beside Professor McGonagall,” James said knowledgeably, his voice sleepy.

“After that we have Transfiguration, lunch, then the flying lessons,” Remus said, summarizing their day.

James yawned loudly, “That makes me bloody tired just thinking of it all.”

Sirius climbed into bed, “Me, too.”

Peter was snoring already. They’d all turned off the lamps next to their beds, except Remus, who was standing by the desk still. He put down the timetable, tugged his pajamas from his trunk quickly, and went over to turn off his lamp before tugging on the pajamas so that none of them could see the scars on his shoulder.

Moony

Remus had barely crawled into bed and fallen asleep when there came a tapping on his arm. He opened his eyes and found a creature standing beside his bed with big, round eyes that seemed to glow in the dark and long, bat-like ears that stood up nearly perpendicular. He jumped and rolled away, nearly falling off his bed in the surprise of the sight of the thing. “What in the bloody hell are you?” he whispered.

“I is sorrys sir,” the creature said, “I is a house elf, named Libby sir, and I is being sent by Professor Dumbledore, sir, to get you for Professor Dumbledore says he is needing to be speaking with you, sir.”

“Dumbledore sent you?” Remus asked as he sat up.

The elf put a long, skinny finger to his lips, “Shh, master Lupin must be quiet so as not to wake the other boys.” The elf’s high pitched voice would do the trick of that, thought Remus, but he quietly got up out of bed and grabbed his wand from his nightstand. The elf waved for Remus to follow him and they tip toed out of the dormitory and down into the common room. He led the way out of the portrait hole and down the corridor, through several twisting stairways and another long hall and stopped beside a large stone gargoyle. “Mr. Lupin is to be waiting here, sir, while I goes and gets Professor Dumbledore, sir.” The elf disappeared with a crack that Remus wasn’t expecting and he jumped back for the second time that night, this time backing into one of the suits of armor and nearly knocking it down.

“Do be careful of that,” said a voice from behind him as Remus was straightening the helmet he’d nearly tipped off, “It’s a priceless antique, you know.” The face plate on the armor clanged shut, as though in indignation, nearly catching Remus’s fingers.

He turned around and found Dumbledore standing behind him, smiling serenely, beside the gargoyle. Where he’d come from, Remus hadn’t even the faintest idea. There wasn’t a single door in sight anywhere along the corridor and he hadn’t heard any footsteps.

“Come,” Dumbledore said, “Let us take a walk out onto the grounds and look at some of the marvelous plants which Professor Viridi has planted this year for her Herbology lessons, shall we?” He smiled and led the way on down the corridor with Remus tagging along in silence, his hands tented finger-tip to finger-tip as he walked along. It was strange, walking with someone whom he’d heard so much about but hadn’t ever met before. Remus kept stealing glances up at him as though he were questioning if Dumbledore was something he’d imagined. And even stranger still, he thought, that Dumbledore had chosen to do this at midnight.

They stepped out into the pale moonlight and Remus frowned. Even if it wasn’t the light of the full moon, he still feared the way the moonlight fell upon his skin and he half expected his cells to malfunction and perform the change. How did his body know the difference between the moons, after all? And what would Dumbledore do if he did change and attack him? He’d heard rumors that Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard alive in the entire world. Surely, if he attacked Dumbledore, he would be reduced to powder faster than he could even say the word ‘werewolf’. Which would be preferable, he thought, to successfully attacking and coming out of it only to discover what he’d done...

They were some way from the castle doors by now and Dumbledore came to a halt in the middle of the grassy knolls that surrounded Hogwarts. Before them was a tall tree with thick knots in the branches and long vines that hung around the tree, nearly to the ground. The tree sort of twitched and shifted, as though it were alive and asleep. Dumbledore stared at the tree for moment.

“Is that the whomping willow you were talking about at the feast, sir?” Remus asked.

Dumbledore nodded. “Rather marvelous, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t a bad tree, Remus thought, but it would’ve been a lot better during the day, when the sun was up and he wasn’t so tired and facing a load of classes first thing in the morning.

Dumbledore bent over, picked up a small rock from the ground, and chucked it at the tree like he was skipping stones across a lake. The stone hit the tree’s trunk and suddenly the tree came to life, it’s branches thrashing wildly about, as though searching for what had struck the trunk, as though if it found the culprit it would have smashed it to ever-loving pieces. The tree slammed some of it’s heavy branches to the ground so hard that it seemed a miniature earthquake traveled through the mantle to where they stood and Remus’s eyes grew wide as the tree swung fist-like branches through the air for several long moments before seeming to realize there was nobody close enough to whomp on and stood, seeming to pant for a moment, and then returned slowly to the resting state they’d found it in.

“Whoa,” Remus whispered.

“Much more impressive now, is it?” Dumbledore asked, smiling down at Remus through his spectacles.

Remus nodded.

“The whomping willow has been planted to help you, Remus, during the times of the full moon,” Dumbledore explained.

Remus blinked, and looked up at Dumbledore. “Um… how?” he asked. He wondered if, as a werewolf, he was supposed to have the tree punch him or something.

“By giving you a protective passageway to a safe house that will keep you from coming back out until you are yourself again.” Dumbledore took up another rock. “Do you see that knot at the base there in that root?” he pointed. Remus squinted and nodded when he spotted the knot Dumbledore spoke of. He aimed carefully and tossed the rock, hitting the knot dead on. The tree seemed to freeze, and instead of “breathing” as it had seemed to be doing before, it became utterly silent, like a normal tree. “Come along, Remus.” Dumbledore walked toward the tree.

Remus hesitated, letting Dumbledore push some of the lower hanging branches aside before following him, afraid the tree would wake up and pummel them, but the tree was truly frozen and Remus scrambled to Dumbledore’s side.

At the foot of the tree, by the knot, a door had opened up. Well, door was a generous term for what it was. It was really a hole in the ground that led to a sort of chute into the dark beyond. Dumbledore held his wand aloft and hissed, “Lumos.” The wand tip lit up and he sat down upon the edge of the hole and slid down as though we were a child in a playground on one of those great big slides. Remus could’ve sworn he even heard Dumbledore say ‘wee!’ on the way into the darkness. He landed at the bottom and all Remus could see of him was the wand light. “Come on then, Remus, before the Willow wakes up again.” As though to punctuate his words, the tree began to stir and Remus chucked himself into the hole quite quickly, not keen to wait for the willow to awaken all the way.

He found himself in an underground passageway and Dumbledore began walking, leading the way with his wand light. The tunnel was roughly cut and short - though Remus, who was relatively short for his age, could walk upright just fine, Dumbledore had to hunch over. They’d walked what seemed like eons before Remus asked, “Where are we going?”

“Just a bit further,” Dumbledore replied.

Remus trotted along behind him.

Finally, after what had to have been a half an hour, they came to an upward slope and then a short staircase and a door in the ceiling that Dumbledore pushed opened. Remus followed. They found themselves in a dark shack of a house, though it was sparsely furnished. The windows, however, were completely boarded up, and not a drop of moonlight was seeping through them.

“What is this place?” Remus asked, looking around.

“This, my boy, is the Shrieking Shack,” Dumbledore replied. “It used to belong to Ogg, the old gamekeeper before Hagrid. Hagrid’s needs were much different than Ogg, as he’d come to live at Hogwarts much sooner at a young age and needed to be kept an eye on, and so his home was built on the grounds at Hogwarts, but traditionally this shack was the gamekeeper’s cabin. Ogg has passed away, bless him, and this shack has been left unattended for a good many years, unneeded and unused by the staff at Hogwarts. However, when I heard that you were on your way, and with your wolfish tendencies you would need a safe place to go where you would not be bothered by other persons for both their own safety and protection of that very precious human part of you.”

Remus asked, “We’re in the village? Won’t somebody hear me? I’m told I’m quite noisy when I’m a - a... - when I change.”

Dumbledore smiled, “I have spent the better part of the last year slowly curating a rumor in the village of Hogsmeade that this shack was haunted. I’ve set caterwauling charms upon it to go off quite at random or if anyone gets closer than the fence which surrounds the property. The charms sounded rather similar to the cries of the werewolf at the full moon. The people of Hogsmeade will know no difference and you, my boy, will be safely enshrouded here in the cottage until you are well enough to return down the passageway to the school.”

It was brilliant, all of it.

“I can’t believe you’ve gone through all this trouble for me,” Remus said, touched.

“I am a strong believer in teaching anyone who wishes to learn,” Dumbledore explained, “Whatever special preparations it may take to get them here. If a student wishes to be at Hogwarts, and they are of magical properties, then I shall do whatever is in my power to get them here.”

Remus decided at that moment that Albus Dumbledore was indeed the greatest wizard that ever lived, just as he had heard. The greatness of Dumbledore, he thought, wasn’t even necessarily his magical ability - although he did not doubt for a moment that he was great in that way, too - but in his unabashed persistence in equality. Here was a man who would not judge him, a werewolf, based on his father’s restriction act and the fear that surrounded the perception of Lycanthrophy. Here was a man who still saw the human, not the wolf that he sometimes became. Besides his parents, Dumbledore was the first person who knew what Remus was that did not look at him as though he were somehow lesser than he might’ve been if he didn’t have his condition.

“Thank you,” Remus said with the deepest gratitude. “I don’t know how to ever repay you for your belief in me.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Do great things,” he said, “And I will be repaid a hundredfold.”

With that exchange, Dumbledore led the way back into the tunnel, pulling shut the door behind him, and they walked back through the passageway. Along the way, Dumbledore taught Remus the lumos spell to light his wand for the journeys through the dark tunnel. When they reached the other end, they climbed up the sloping entrance and Dumbledore showed Remus a lever at the top that he should pull that would freeze the tree just as pressing upon the knot would, and then they climbed out of the hole and rushed back out from beneath the long vines of the tree and across the grounds before the tree stirred.

Dumbledore walked Remus right up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who greeted them sleepily. “Gillyweed,” Dumbledore said, and she swung open. “Sleep well, Remus, and I am sorry to have kept you awake, but in the interest of maintaining your secret, you understand why we had to go at this hour.”

“Yes,” Remus replied. He nodded.

Dumbledore nodded back. “Well, go on and sleep,” he said as Remus climbed into the portrait hole, “I’m sure you’re quite eager to be well rested for your classes tomorrow. If you ever need anything at all from me, you can ask Professor McGonagall to fetch me. Or, if you’d rather, tell that stone gargoyle we met nearby tonight that you enjoy a bit of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum.” He winked, and the portrait swung closed, sealing Remus in and Dumbledore out.

Padfoot

Next morning, the three boys trooped down to the Great Hall for breakfast before their first class, though it had taken some work to rouse Remus from his sleep. Peter, who had still been snoring, too, they left behind, figuring he would wake up whenever he wanted to. It took them even longer to find the Great Hall without having Bilius Weasley to show them the way through the castle and they got lost down several long corridors, including the one with the big stone gargoyle, before they finally found their way to the Great Hall. James noticed Lily Evans was already at the Gryffindor table, sitting with a bunch of second years and talking, her face bright and much happier than she’d looked the night before. She looked up as they walked by and James said, “Morning.” She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the other girls.

Taking their seats at the table, Sirius tugged some waffles onto his plate while James mixed up an assortment of cereals, Remus pulled a thick slice of ham onto his plate eagerly and slurped up a mug of hot coffee. The boys ate in silence as the Hall around them was getting steadily louder and louder as students filed down from the dormitories. Bilius Weasley came in when they were nearly done, followed by Peter Pettigrew, and sat next to Remus, who was opposite James and Sirius this morning, and slapped him on the back jovially, making him nearly drop his coffee mug. “How was your first night, then?” Bilius asked. “I was surprised you were all up so early, I stopped by your dormitory on the way down to see if you wanted a hand in finding your way. Good thing I did, too, Peter was still asleep. Would’ve missed his first class,” he laughed.

Peter was red in the face and quickly snatched a wild assortment of foods as though he were scavenging and started eating quickly.

“We didn’t wanna wake you up, mate,” James explained.

“You were snoring like a dragon,” Sirius added, “All night I kept dreaming I was coming up on a dragon guarding his gold!”

Peter went even redder, but didn’t reply.

Suddenly overhead there was a call of an owl and the boys looked up at the ceiling suddenly flooded with owls, flying around the Great Hall, dropping off their parcels and letters to the students. Bubo flew down with a letter for James and took a piece of toast as payment before flying away. Sirius kept staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the family owl, Dolf, to come through the window, but he didn’t come. Sirius’s eyebrows stitched together. “Mother didn’t write me,” he said, concerned. “She must not have heard about me being sorted Gryffindor, then.”

“Don’t tell me you’re disappointed for not getting a howler?” James said beside him, ripping open his letter.

“Well… no,” Sirius replied. Though really he sort of was, odd as it was to be sad about such a thing. Honestly his mother had been rather distant with him ever since the whole muggle-watching incident and he’d sort of hoped for some attention - even if it was negative. But he supposed that it wasn’t as though he’d written her and told her about the sorting. How would she know? But as though in answer to the question, he felt someone standing behind him and turned around.

Lucius Malfoy said, “So what went wrong, Sirius?” he asked. Beside him stood two others that Sirius knew from various family functions - Alistor Mulciber and Germaine Avery. They were rather large guys.

“What?” Sirius asked, intimidated by the three of them hovering so close and ominously.

“You’re a Black, you should’ve been in Slytherin. So what’s wrong with you?” Mulciber demanded roughly.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Sirius answered. “I just got sorted different is all.”

Lucius’s voice was cold and low, “Is it true that you’re a blood traitor?” he asked.

Sirius didn’t know how to answer.

Lucius leaned closer, putting his hand on the table between Sirius and James. James looked at the back of his head, affronted by his butting in. “I heard you interacted with a muggle over summer. On purpose. Wanted to make friends with the filthy thing. And now…” his eyes traversed across the table to Remus and Bilius. “...now you’re making friends with half-bloods and other blood traitors.”

“Why don’t you shove off, Malfoy?” Bilius declared, standing up.

Lucius looked at Bilius, stood upright, and meaningfully polished the badge on his chest. “Five points from Gryffindor for your attitude, Weasley. And why don’t we make it one more for the abysmal state of your hair?”

Bilius raised an eyebrow, “Always got to be a prat, don’t you?” he asked. “I’m a prefect, stupid, you can’t take points away from me.”

“Then make it a point for his hair then,” Lucius said, indicating James’s messy head. He turned to Sirius again. “I’ll be writing your parents.”

“Fine,” Sirius replied. “Send them love from me, will you?”

Lucius turned and stormed off to the Slytherin table, followed by Mulciber and Avery.

Bilius rolled his eyes, “He’s in his seventh year and good riddance to him.” He turned back to his meal.

James looked at Sirius, “So that was one of your cousins, ‘ey?”

Sirius nodded, taking entirely too long to cut one of his waffles in the attempt to avoid eye contact with his friends. He was trying very hard not to cry from sheer anger. “Lucius Malfoy,” he nodded. “Guy’s a complete arse. His mum and dad are rich as bloody hell, even richer than Mother and Father are, I expect, though I don’t really know to be honest. But the Malfoys, they like reminding everyone how rich they are. They have a flock of enchanted peacocks prancing about their yard and they own a huge house with more rooms than any family could ever need.”

Bilius chimed in, “One of the biggest prats in the school. Loves bullying anyone he can. I can’t believe he got Head Boy. It’s a disgrace to the prefect system, that is.” He glowered at his breakfast. “I’ve got to figure out some way to get back at him before he’s gone.” Bilius rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe next time you set off Filibusters you should set him on fire,” James suggested.

Remus, who’d stayed silent throughout the entire encounter, announced, “We better get to class, guys, or we’re going to be late.”

“Know where you’re going?” Bilius asked. When they shook their heads, he said, “Go up the stairs out here, ‘round to the left, up the staircase at the end to the third floor, take the left off the stairwell… It’s the third door on the second corridor to the left.”

“Blimey.” James said. He shoveled a couple more bites of cereal into his mouth and grabbed his bookbag, “Let’s go guys so we have time to find it if we get lost. Thanks Bilius.”

“No problem,” Bilius answered.

The boys said goodbye to Bilius and started off out of the Great Hall, headed for the Charms classroom by Bilius’s instructions. Peter Pettigrew rushed after them, slightly out of breath, and a couple feet behind. They reached the classroom without too much trouble, only having turned right once when they should’ve taken a left, and found Lily Evans had come up before they had and was now sitting on the carpet, leaning against the legs of a suit of armor and reading her charms book intently, her hair falling in a red curtain.

When it was nearly time for class to start, the door flew open, seemingly of it’s own accord, and a voice called from within, “Come in students, come in!” They filed in. The desks had been arranged into one long table in front of Flitwick’s teacher’s desk. They sat along it, Lily leaving an extra seat between herself and Sirius. She still had her book open to the page she’d been on and Sirius noticed she was more than halfway through reading the book already. He’d barely even cracked the cover on his. He nudged James and pointed at Lily’s book and mouthed ‘read it nearly through already!’ and James raised an eyebrow.

“Welcome, welcome,” Professor Flitwick said, beaming around at all of them. “My, my, but you are a small group of first years, aren’t you? Smallest of the four houses, I imagine. That’s okay, it just means we’ll have more time for one-on-one and you’ll all become quite brilliant in no time, I’m sure.” He looked down at his own copy of the text book on his desk, “Now can any of you tell me what a charm is?”

Lily’s hand went up.

“Miss Evans… my, my, the only girl. Do you like your dormitory?” he asked, smiling.

“It’s alright,” Lily answered. “I’m not used to having my own room. Back home my twin, Tuney, and I shared so…”

“She’s a twin?” hissed James to Sirius.

Sirius shrugged, “Where’s the other one?”

“Kindly pay attention,” Flitwick commanded. “A drawback, for you, of a small class is I shall notice everything you’re doing of an… extra curricular… nature.” He chuckled, then turned back to LIly. “So, Miss. Evans, tell us, what is a charm?”

“A charm is a spell that alters the properties of a given object - it changes what the object does, not what it is. Being under a charm is called being bewitched, and a dark charm can be called a curse, a hex, or a jinx, depending on the properties of the charm.” She sounded like an audio recording of the book.

Sirius snorted.

“Troubles, Mr. Black?” Flitwick asked.

“Got a bug in my throat,” Sirius lied.

Lily scowled at him.

“Very well,” Flitwick answered. “And quite right, Miss. Evans. Charms are very useful and make up more than half of the magic that you will do in your lifetime. Because they are such basic magic, many people wrongly assume that they are easy, but be careful for a clumsily cast charm can backfire and you’ll end up with whatever spell you’ve cast placed upon yourself. I’ve heard of witches and wizards who have gone mad from botched memory charms or who have ended up suspended by their ankles in their rooms unable to get down until the charm wears off for they cannot reach their wand.”

“Sounds fun,” snickered James to Sirius.

“Levi corpus!” Flitwick waved his wand without warning and James was suddenly swept out of his chair and suspended over the desks by his Gryffindor trainers, his robes bunched ‘round his armpits, revealing his muggle clothes beneath them. The others looked up from their seats and laughed as James’s hair hung on end and his spectacles went lopsided from gravity. James laughed, too, and Flitwick righted him and gently lowered him back down to his seat.

“That was brilliant!” James declared, laughing, “Levi corpus, huh? I’ll remember that one.” He scribbled it down on the title page of his book.

“Well, first you best learn how to cast it before you go flipping that wand of yours about.” Professor Flitwick swished his wand again and a feather flew to each of their desks. “Today, we shall begin with a much more simple variation of the levitation charm… wingardium leviosa. Remember, pronunciation of a charm is very important. You do not want to say it the wrong way or things could go seriously wrong!”

They sat for the next hour all shouting at their feathers and waving their wands, trying to get them to levitate. By the end of the class, only Lily and Peter had succeeded. The other three were told to work on it for homework and the class was dismissed.

“That wasn’t a bad first class,” Remus reviewed as they walked into the hallway, following instructions Professor Flitwick had given them to Transfiguration.

“Not bad at all,” James agreed.

“Especially the part when he had you hanging from the ceiling,” laughed Sirius.

“I can’t wait to learn that one,” James said. “You best watch out, I’ll be stringing up any gits that annoy me, and that means you, Sirius.” The boys began shoving each other playfully as they walked along, laughing loudly.

Ahead of them, listening as they rough housed behind her, Lily rolled her eyes.

Lily

Lily was very glad for Alice Bell, the second year girl that had shown her to the dormitory the night before. Alice had instantly become Lily’s friend, and invited her up to the second years’ room to meet the other girls. They were all very nice and had invited Lily to camp on their floor so she didn’t have to spend her first night all alone in the castle, explaining that Peeves, the school poltergeist liked to pick on the younger students who had seemed apprehensive. Lily’s eyes had widened, “There are ghosts here?”

“Haven’t you met Nearly Headless Nick yet?” Alice Bell asked her.

Lily shook her head, “No. Is he terrifying?”

“Nick? Nawh,” Alice shook her head, “He’s really funny.”

The next morning, the girls had all gone down to breakfast together in the Great Hall, pouring over an issue of Teen Witch featuring one of the members of the new wizard band The Charmers on the cover. Lily had never realized there were wizard bands, but Alice nodded enthusiastically, “Oh yes, there are quite a few. There’s the Charmers, and the Owls…” she’d rattled off band names for some time.

They’d met up again after Transfiguration in the Great Hall for lunch time, and by then Lily was just thankful to get away from Sirius, Remus, Peter, and, most especially, James, who she kept catching staring over at her from his desk. He’d smiled at her every time she’d caught him. She craned her neck, trying to see over to the Slytherin table past the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs to see if Severus was there. She wanted to talk to him badly but he’d been missing since the feast the night before. Hoping to spot him, she chatted with Alice Bell with one eye on the door, but she never saw him.

When they went out onto the lawn for the flying lessons, though, she got her chance to talk to him for the first time since the sorting. The Gryffindors were having their lessons on the grounds with the Slytherins, who had a free second period on Thursday and had already gone outside to meet the instructor, a witch the timetable had informed her would be named Madam Hooch.

“Oh great,” Lily heard Sirius say as they crossed the grass, “We have to learn to fly with Snivelly Snape.” She looked up at the moment he was mentioned, her heart leaping with excitement and relief. Severus was on the edge of the cluster of Slytherins and she broke into a run the moment she saw him.

“Sev!” she squealed and she ran, pushing between the boys, literally shoving James out of the way. She collided with him, enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. It seemed like it had been ages since she’d seen him. He hugged her back, though a bit hesitantly, glancing uneasily to see what the other Slytherins were looking. For the first time ever she noticed that Severus had a funny smell about him, one that reminded her of the bad part of town from which he’d come back home. She pulled back and looked up at his eyes, which were darting between her and his snickering housemates. “Are you okay?” she whispered under her breath, so quiet that only Severus could hear.

“Look at Snivelly with his girlfriend!” Sirius’s voice rang out as the boys caught up to Lily.

Severus, already red from the sniggering of the Slytherins, turned even redder. “Shut your mouth, Black!” he growled.

“Ooh,” James laughed. “You gonna take that Sirius?”

Sirius grinned, “Sorry, Sev,” he said, pointedly using the nickname Lily used for him, “I’ll let you get back to snogging with her, then.” He turned to walk away, laughing.

Severus pulled away from Lily entirely, running at Sirius’s turned back.

“Oh!” Lily cried out, “Severus - don’t!”

The desperate tone in Lily’s voice made James turn around and he saw Severus coming at Sirius, the look of an angry bull upon his face. “Oi!” Sirius!” James shouted.

Sirius turned around just time time. The next thing any of them new, the two boys had their arms locked around each other’s necks and were hitting one another quite hard like a couple of muggle boys.

“FIGHT!” bellowed one of the other Slytherin boys and they all gathered around in a circle, blocking Sirius and Severus from Lily’s view.

“Oh don’t! Don’t! Please don’t!” Lily shrieked, ducking left and right, trying desperately to break into the circle of Slytherins, plus James and Peter. Remus was standing outside of the loop, too, awkwardly rubbing his elbow and staring at Lily apologetically while she cried.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” Madam Hooch had just come from the Quidditch Equipment building by the pitch carrying armfuls of school brooms under her arms, which she dropped to the ground as she broke into a sprint, grabbing a whistle from around her neck and blowing into it frantically.

Fweet! Fweeeet! Fweeeet!

She pushed her way between the crowd of students and grabbed both Sirius and Severus around the necks of their robes roughly shoving them apart as they scrambled, trying to get at each other again. “Enough of this! Fifty points from both your houses! And detention for you both!” she shouted. The boys stopped fighting as she scolded them, glaring between the two of them, but it didn’t stop them glowering at one another, each having bloody noses and Sirius a cut lip. “Everyone get a broom,” she shouted at the rest of the students, “Arrange yourself about 3 feet apart in this area while I deposit these two with Madam Pomfrey in the castle.” She frogmarched the boys off the grounds to the castle.

Lily watched them go, worried, wondering if she shouldn’t go along with them to keep Severus company.

“I got you a broom before the best ones were taken,” James was suddenly appearing at her elbow, holding out a broom. She took it hesitantly as the entrance door closed on the castle. “He’ll be alright,” he said to her. “Sirius didn’t get many good shots in, honestly.” He shrugged and turned away, running off to where Remus and Peter Pettigrew were checking that they were at least three feet away from the other students. Lily walked over and joined the end of the row.

“You Gryffindors better watch your back,” said a large Slytherin boy from the other end of the row.

“Just let it go,” Lily heard Remus hiss to James, who’d looked angrily in the direction of the Slytherins. “It’s not worth the trouble we’ll get into.”

Lily sighed, standing there holding her broom, staring around at the other students. She’d never used a broom before, other than for cleaning, and this one was shaped very differently than any she’d ever seen before. James was one of the only ones that seemed fully comfortable with the brooms.

Madam Hooch came back across the grounds without Sirius and Severus and cleared her throat as she stood before them with her own broom, which was much nicer than any of the school brooms, which, Lily noticed, had little brass plates upon the handles with model numbers like Cleansweep 1970 and Starchaser 4 on them. Madam Hooch launched into a lecture on flying etiquette and the theory behind it. “Has anybody here flown before?” she asked.

James’s hand flew into the air, as well as a few Slytherin hands, too.

“What sort of brooms do you fly?” she asked, going around through the people who had raised their hands. The models were varying, mostly the answers were various numbers of Starchasers - most of them higher numbers than a four, though one boy said he flew a Starchaser 2 - until they got to James who said he had one of the new Nimbus brooms. Madam Hooch looked impressed, “That’s a very nice broom!” she exclaimed.

“My dad used to play for the team,” James explained, “Quidditch has always been a big deal in the Potter house.”

“Well that Cleansweep ‘70 you’ve got there is going to feel like it’s parked compared to a Nimbus, but you should be able to fly it without much trouble.” She cleared her throat, “Okay everybody, mount your brooms.”

Everyone fumbled to get the broom between their knees except James, who easily mounted the broom as though it were second nature, gripping the handle tightly. He hunched forward, standing on his tip-toes.

“Mr. Goyle, hold a bit tighter on your handle dear… there you go… Mr. Lupin, you’ve got too much of the handle in front of you, even it out a bit more. Look at Mr. Potter, you’ll see… yes, like that, much better. Okay. On my whistle, everyone kick gently off of the ground, pulling up on your broom handle slightly, then push it back down equally slightly to land again. One… two…”

Fweet!

All of them did as they were instructed, or tried to at any rate. James did a loop-de-loop in place, grinning as he came back down to stick the landing. Peter, however, had toppled over instead of taking off at all and only one of the Slytherins had managed to direct the broom back down to the ground correctly. Three of them were still stranded in mid-air. Lily, however, had done it perfectly. James was glancing over at her with an amused expression on his face.

“You’ve never flown before?” he asked.

Lily shook her head.

“So just a natural then?”

“I guess so,” she answered. She’d felt wobbly and uncertain about how she’d done, but apparently it hadn’t been too terrible as James Potter, who seemed to have an impressive history with flying, found it within himself to at least halfway compliment her on it. She clutched her broomstick with a strange mixture of pride and something else she couldn’t quite name. She glanced over at him a couple more times as Madam Hooch got the stranded Slytherins down and righted Peter.

“Okay. Again,” she instructed.

This time in the air, James flew literal circles around the other students, laughing happily as the wind whipped through his already messy hair. Lily watched, hovering about ten feet off the ground on her broom, as James went by, grinning with all of his teeth showing. Of all the times she’d seen him smile, she thought, he looked best when he smiled on a broomstick. Perhaps it was the wildness of his hair, or maybe it was because of how thoroughly he was in his element, but he didn’t seem like such a phony arse when he was flying.

“Mr. Potter!” Madam Hooch called, “If you don’t mind stopping your showing off, I would rather like to complete a lesson down here on the ground!”

“Sorry, Madam Hooch,” James answered and, looking at Lily, he added, “I couldn’t help showing off a little.” He winked at her and slowly started to come down to land smoothly on the grass.

“Everyone down please,” she commanded waving her hands and each of them slowly lowered to the ground as well, though none were even as close to being as smooth as James had done.

They repeated this cycle for some time until everyone was able to take off and land in synchronisation with a certain graceful air that hadn’t been there when they’d begun. James was obviously by far the best of them, though he refrained from showing off any further skills for them. At least not until Sirius returned with Severus right behind him, more than halfway through the lessons. They had both already flown before so it didn’t take terribly long to get the class back into synchronisation. As the sun was starting to set behind the castle, Madam Hooch announced that the lesson was over and started shouting instructions about how to return the brooms to the broom shed.

“James,” Sirius’s voice echoed over, “Prove how good you are, mate.” He wound up his arm and into the air went flying what looked like a Drooble’s bubble gum ball as he chucked it off into the sky.

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation. James shot off the ground, leaning forward on his broom and crouching down to stream the air over his back in a way to increase his speed and he stretched out one arm as he circled back around, backing the broom up and with a soft crack the gumball landed safely in James’s palm.

Madam Hooch looked a mixture of angry and amazed as James flew back to them, dropping the gumball onto Sirius’s hand. “It was one of the red ones,” he said, “Makes it easier to see.”

Sirius laughed, “Lucky shot.”

“So throw it again if you think so,” James answered with a swaggering air as he swept the arms of his robes up. His eye caught Lily’s for a moment and he announced, “One day I’m going to be the greatest seeker the league has ever seen. I’ll finally bring glory to Britain.” He puffed out his chest, “I’m just that bloody good, don’t you think?” he asked Lily.

She stared at him for a moment, and said, “I think you’re just arrogant.”

James stared right into her face. “Throw it again, Sirius, and put some elbow into it.”

Madam Hooch looked as though she wanted to stop them from it, but another part of her, the part that won, wanted to see if he could do it again.

Sirius wound up good and hard and the gumball soared across the grounds. James took off, faster than smoke, and shot after the gumball. It looked as though he’d undershot, however, and he was going to miss it… and then he stretched, bringing his feet up to the broom and practically standing on it to give himself a bit more height and leaned as far over the front of the broom as he could, sending it into a spiral, but wrapping his fist around the gumball before he did, and, doing a sort of head-over-heels barrel roll, he managed to right himself and fly back, again tossing the gumball into Sirius’s palm.

Madam Hooch and the other Gryffindors were clapping while Severus and the other boys in Slytherin, as well as Lily, looked thoroughly unamused.

James dropped the broom to the ground and looked at Lily. “What do you think now?” he demanded. “There’s no way you can see what I’ve just done and not think it’s some incredible flying!”

Lily’s eyes were cold. “Still arrogant,” she stated simply, and she shoved her broom into his hand and walked back to the castle.

Severus

“Lily, wait!” Severus ignored the snickering of his classmates, shoving his broom into the hands of the Slytherin girl nearest him, and ran after Lily, his robes swishing around his ankles, making him trip on his way up the hill. He caught up to her and grabbed hold of her elbow, stopping her. Behind them, the students were shuffling over to the broom shed and putting up the brooms. “You alright?” he asked when she faced him.

Over Severus’s shoulder, she could see James, standing exactly where she had left him, holding the two brooms in his fists, staring after her. Sirius was talking to him and James was nodding. “I hate them, Sev,” she said hotly. “Those boys are just so awful and full of themselves. The way they treat you is just --” Lily shook her head. “I hate them.”

Severus sighed.

“I wish I’d gone to Slytherin with you,” Lily said. “I miss you so much already.”

Despite himself, Severus smiled at her. Knowing she missed him made him feel better. He’d been having himself some wild imaginings of her laughing uproariously before a fire in the Gryffindor common room as Sirius Black told cruel ‘Snivellus Snape’ jokes. “I miss you, too,” he told her. He glanced back and saw the class had gotten the brooms put up and were on their way up the hill, James and Sirius included, and he said, “C’mon, let’s get inside before they come up here.” He pulled her by her hand into the school and they charged past the Great Hall and down a flight of stone steps that led into a dark corridor. They continued on to the end of the corridor until they’d found another flight of steps and Severus led her about halfway up them before sitting down and patting the spot beside her. “Here, we won’t be bothered here,” he told her.

She looked around, “What is this place?”

“It’s the dungeons,” he explained, “They hold potions lessons down here, in a room just around the corner. These stairs go up to the Potions Master’s storeroom.” He pointed to a great wooden door behind him.

Lily looked, then turned back to Severus, “Well what if the Potions Master comes?”

“He won’t,” Severus said. “There’s no afternoon potions lessons.”

Lily nodded. It was dark and cold and kind of wet feeling even though there was no water around in the dungeons, but whatever it took to see Severus, she supposed. She looked up at him. “Do you like Slytherin?” she asked.

“I imagine it’s loads better than Gryffindor with those stupid gits,” Severus growled.

“I have my own dormitory room,” she told him, “All to myself.” She made it sound more exciting than she really felt about it. “And I’ve made friends with a girl from second year called Alice Bell.”

Severus frowned, “She’s a mudblood,” he said.

“A what?” Lily looked confused at him.

Severus hesitated. “It… it means she’s half-blood.”

“Well so aren’t you,” Lily laughed.

Severus scowled. “I may be half-blood, but I’m half-blood Prince,” he explained, “And that’s an important distinction. Besides, I disowned my father ages ago.”

“Well you are still a half-blood, you can’t change what you are just by coming up with fancy titles and wishing your father away,” Lily said sternly. “Besides, what does it matter what sort of blood you are?”

Severus didn’t want to get into the whole pure-blood/half-blood/muggle-born discussion with Lily, mainly because he didn’t want to explain to her that his family, who only barely tolerated him now, would completely disown him if they knew the things that he felt about her - a muggle-born. Blood traitor, they would call him. He looked into Lily’s eyes and knew that one day he would have to tell her about it all, if he planned to be with her for the rest of his life as he did, but that day did not have to be today.

“You’re right,” he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything nasty about your friend.”

“Thank you,” she replied. She shook her head, “Severus, things are a lot more complicated here than I imagined they would be when we talked about it. And I miss Tuney a lot.”

“So write her an owl,” Severus suggested. “I can show you where the owlery is so you can send it off tomorrow.”

Lily smiled, “That’s a good idea.”

“I have them now and then,” Severus answered.

“You have them loads,” she answered.

Severus felt his neck get a little heated with a flush and he quickly changed the subject, “What classes did you have today?” he asked.

“Charms and Transfiguration. That Professor McGonagall is brilliant! I absolutely adore her. She’s our head of house. She turned a tea set into a family of ducks today in the class. We’re only learning much simpler things ourselves, but she was showing us what sorts of things Transfiguration could do and it was brilliant.” She smiled. “What did you have?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he replied. “It was pretty interesting. It’s the teacher’s first year. Professor Tutamen was telling us about basic defense, we learned a shield charm and a disarming charm. You’ll really like it. When do you have Defense?”

“Not until Monday,” she replied. “We have double Potions tomorrow, though. In the morning.”

Severus nodded, “I know, we’re in with the Gryffindors for Potions in the morning. You’ll get to meet Professor Slughorn.”

Lily grinned, “I’m glad that we have classes together, it means I’ll get to see you. I think Potions is my favorite class already.”

They talked a bit longer about their classes and their respective common rooms, then Severus showed Lily up to the Great Hall for supper. All the other students were filling the entrance hall as they emerged from the dungeons. “Lily!” Alice Bell was coming down the stairs, waving as she approached.

Lily glanced between Alice and Severus as she ran towards them.

“Go on, have fun,” Severus told her, “I have to go to the Slytherin table anyway.”

“I’ll see you in Potions tomorrow morning,” Lily said and she squeezed his hand and ran to meet Alice halfway across the entrance hall.

Severus watched as they joined the swarm of people pouring into the Great Hall and disappeared inside the doors, their heads together, talking. He took a deep breath and started to join the crowd as well when he heard voices echoing down from the stairwell.

“Did you have a lovely date, then, Snape?” James Potter was coming down the stairs with Sirius, Peter, and Remus in tow.

“You must be really good at snogging to get someone who looks as good as that,” Sirius said loudly.

“Maybe he’s filthy rich,” James suggested.

“Rich? No, the only thing he is is filthy!” Sirius cackled.

Severus felt rooted to the spot where he was. He didn’t dare go after Sirius a second time in one day - didn’t want to end up expelled or something for it - so he gritted his teeth and balled his fists and watched as the two of them came down the stairwell and started across the entrance hall toward the Great Hall.

“You know, Snivelly, taking a bath could do wonders for you. And it’s easy. Just turn the knobs and this stuff called water comes out… I’ll even give you some shampoo since your mother can’t afford to buy you any.” Sirius’s mocking grin seemed to be the only thing fully in focus as Severus’s face throbbed with embarrassment and everything became rather blurry and moved in slow motion. Severus’s fists were balled so tightly that he was nearly puncturing himself with his fingernails. He closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” came a cold voice from behind him, “For being insufferable.” Lucius Malfoy had come up from the dungeons behind Severus and heard the boys bullying him. “Now go on your way before I make it twenty,” he hissed. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter ran into the hall quickly.

“Thanks,” Severus mumbled.

Lucius replied, “Next time stand up for yourself.”

“I did earlier,” Severus explained, “And I ended up in the hospital wing with a bloody nose and detention next week with Madam Hooch.”

Lucius asked, “And where was Sirius Black?”

“In the hospital wing as well. I gave him a split lip.”

“So he was worse off than you were?”

Severus nodded.

“Then it was worth the detention, was it not?”

“I suppose,” Severus said with a smirk.

Lucius led the way into the Great Hall, “You musn’t let idiots like them bother you.” Severus followed him to the table and they sat down. Narcissa Black joined them a few moments later, sitting beside Lucius instead of across from him this time. Mulciber and Avery sat across from them, blocking the Gryffindor table from view for Severus, which was good because Sirius was pantomiming showering and laughing in the direction of the Slytherin table.

Mulciber leaned across the table, “Did you find out why the…” he lowered his voice, “Dark mark… burned this afternoon?” he asked Lucius.

Lucius drawled, “I sent an owl to my mother and she said that the Dark Lord had called his followers to him because he says he’s completed his preparations and is ready to begin taking over.” He glanced towards the faculty table, where Professor Dumbledore was talking merrily with Professor Slughorn, sharing a box of candied pineapple with him. “He’s got a servant on staff here,” Lucius says, “As part of his plan to take over the school.”

“Why’s he so keen on taking over Hogwarts for?” Avery growled. “Seems he could do better at taking the ministry instead.”

“All the young blood in here,” Lucius said, “It’s an ultimate army. Nobody would fight to kill on a bunch of kids. That’s the brilliance of it, don’t you see?”

Severus asked, “Who’s the servant?” He was still staring up at the staff table.

Lucius hesitated. “I can’t tell you, Severus, not until you’re a Death Eater, too.”

“A Death Eater?” Severus questioned.

“Yeah,” Lucius answered, “When you’re older, he’ll offer you a place in his group of followers, if you’re lucky, and you’ll be given the Dark Mark, like I have, and you’ll be able to know these things.”

“He would take me?” Severus asked. “Even though I’m… half-blood?”

“If you’ll follow him faithfully and renounce your ties to muggles and mudbloods,” Lucius said. “There’s no reason why you couldn’t become a Death Eater, if you wanted to… Which, if you’re smart, you’ll want to. It’s the way the world is going. The Dark Lord will take over and those who are in his court will be greatly rewarded… The Dark Lord provides for those who believe in him and fight for him. And those who offend him…” Lucius’s lips turned into a sinister grin, “Well, those people don’t live long enough to tell us what he does to them.”

Mulciber and Avery cackled.

Prongs

James Potter became an instant celebrity for the stunt he’d pulled in flying lessons. The story of him catching the Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum ball - not once but twice - had spread like wildfire after Madam Hooch had told it to the Captain of the Gryffindor team, who’d quickly told his entire team at dinner, where the Ravenclaws had overheard and talked about it at their table from which the Hufflepuffs overheard, from whom the Slytherins had overheard… By the time James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter went up to the Great Hall that night, half the Gryffindor house was up and waiting in the common room to ask the small herd of first years about the details of the catch.

Even Alice Bell asked Lily with wide eyes if it was true that James Potter had caught a blowing gum ball clear across the grounds. “It was a red ball,” Lily said mulishly. “It wasn’t that impressive.”

By next morning when the first years went down to breakfast, laden with their cauldrons, and ingredients for Potions, everyone in the school was either high-fiving or whispering about James as they passed by him.

“Where’d you learn to fly like that, Potter?”

“Way to go!”

“Is it true you’ve got a Nimbus at home?”

“Maybe we’ll finally beat Slytherin for the House Cup once you’re old enough to play!”

“Are you going to try out for Gryffindor team next year?”

“Like your head needed any further inflating.” This last came from a smirking Remus as the five first years arrived to the Great Hall and Lily broke away from the four boys to go sit with a gaggle of the second year girls she’d been hanging out with.

James guffawed, “I told you, it’s not ego if it’s true, and I’ve proven it’s true, haven’t I?” He swaggered over to the Gryffindor table ahead of his friends, relishing the way it seemed that everyone in the Hall - or at least everyone not at the Slytherin table - was staring at him with awe and excitement. The Slytherins were either ignoring him or glowering. Severus Snape was the glowering one, sitting at the table across the room with a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth, his eyes following James with a sort of loathing.

Once they’d all finished breakfast it was time for Potions and the first year Gryffindors followed along behind the first year Slytherins down into the dungeons where the Potions Master’s classroom was. They turned into a classroom just down the hall from the stairwell that Lily and Snape had sat in to talk and found themselves seats around a classroom lit by several places lining the walls, each desk featuring cutting boards and small pits for fire to heat the cauldrons. James and Sirius sat next to one another while Remus and Peter took another desk. Lily sat alone at a table at the front. Then Severus appeared at her side and, smiling, took the seat beside her.

Professor Horace Slughorn was a large man that sort of reminded James of exactly his name - a great slug. He waddled to the front of the room and set himself into a plush green velvet chair by the teacher’s desk and smiled around at the students as they placed their cauldrons and ingredients cases onto the desks and settled themselves in. “Good morning everyone,” Professor Slughorn called, cutting over the chattering voices. He smiled as silence fell over the dungeon room. “I can tell that we are all very excited to learn the art of potion-making… But of course you are, it’s a very exciting art! Much more subtle than the red and green sparks you create in classes like Charms and Transfiguration, much more poetic.” Slughorn’s eyes drifted over the class, “You’ll learn about such amazing things in this class over the years you are required to take it leading up to O.W.L.s - and, I hope, will enjoy it so much that perhaps you shall carry on into your N.E.W.T. years…”

Horace Slughorn went on for ages, it seemed, talking about the ‘subtle beauty’ of potion making before launching into an eons long talk about the different types of cauldrons and the reasons why you’d use each for different sorts of potions. James and Sirius had lost their attention spans somewhere around the declaration that potions was more poetic than Charms and Transfiguration, realizing that they probably weren’t going to be using their wands in this class, rendering it very boring indeed. They’d begun drawing pictures and enchanting them to move across the parchment. Detail by detail, they’d created a very compelling picture of a Quidditch game and were prodding the players they’d drawn to compete against one another across the pitch.

“If you pay attention,” said Slughorn’s voice from behind James and Sirius, who jumped, having not realized that he was behind them, “Potions will prove to be a fascinating subject.” He smiled mildly at the boys as they scrambled to put away the parchment.

“We were paying attention,” James claimed.

“Oh and were you?” Slughorn asked, “Even with that riveting game of Quidditch your drawings were playing?”

James’s face turned red, “We were just doodling, we can listen and draw at the same time. Helps the concentration.” Sirius nodded.

Severus snickered as Slughorn continued up to the front of the classroom, “So you know exactly what it was I was talking about?”

“Yes,” James said, though a bit hesitantly.

Slughorn nodded for a moment. “Very well then… What do you get if you mixed an infusion of asphodel and wormwood?”

James stared blankly at Slughorn, who stared back at him with a steady gaze.

“Hmm.. missed that bit of my speech, I see… How about this. When and where might you look for a bezoar?”

Again, James stared blankly. He felt as though he’d momentarily tuned into Slughorn’s talk and heard the word bezoar, though he didn’t know when. Slughorn’s eyes were twinkling with amusement now and Severus was practically falling off his chair with silent laughter up front while Sirius stared down at the grain in the wood table top before him.

“Well, third time’s the charm, isn’t it, Potter? How about the difference between monkshood and aconite? Do you know?”

But again, James had no idea.

Professor Slughorn chuckled, “Well, James, it seems doodling does not help concentration and therefore I shall ask you to please refrain from doing so in this class as there are very important things that we will be talking about in this room.”

James felt his neck go hot as Severus then turned to Lily and whispered, “How humiliating this must be for our new celebrity.” He glanced back with a smirking grin on his face as Lily giggled.

James paid much better attention through the second half of the class, and they watched as Professor Slughorn talked about the different plants and tools that had come along with their potions kits and demonstrated how to use the brass scales to measure intricately.

When he’d finished going on about the basic information of potion-making, Professor Slughorn set them to drafting a simple giggling potion, which he said was very similar to the laughing potion but with a few practical modifications. He walked up and down the aisles of students, watching them prepare their ingredients, making remarks here and there, pointing out things that could use improving upon. When he’d made his rounds and arrived back to the front, he marvelled at the natural ease with which Lily Evans handled the silver knife and how nicely she’d cut her alihotsy leaves. “Well done, girl, well done! How did you learn to cut with such precision?” Slughorn asked admirably.

“My mother taught my sister, Tuney, and I how to cook when we were really little,” Lily explained.

Professor Slughorn’s face had split into an amused smile, “Are you muggle-born then?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” Lily replied.

The heads of the Slytherin students turned to look to the front of the classroom, where Severus, one of their own, was sharing a table with her. Severus shifted uneasily. He’d been doing his best to keep anyone from knowing that Lily, his friend, was muggle-born and how Professor Slughorn had gone and made her announce it to the entire first year. His face felt hot as he could hear whispers in the rows behind him.

“Very impressive indeed!” Professor Slughorn said. He looked over her other ingredients with an appraising eye.

James leaned over and whispered to Sirius, “So she can cut things up, what’s so impressive about that?”

Sirius snickered.

The rest of the potions class passed as slowly as the first half as James worked on the giggling potion and slowly one by one the students broke into fits of laughter as their potions finished and Slughorn had them taste them to be sure they’d mixed them correctly. Slughorn was dismissing students to lunch as soon as they’d finished their work. Lily was the very first to finish her potion successfully, followed closely by Severus.

“Good luck, Potter,” sneered Severus as he walked by the desk. “Hope you paid better attention to the instructions or you’ll be here all night.”

Angered by Severus, James managed to put a bit too much puffskein hair into the cauldron and instead of turning sunshine yellow it turned more of an orange color. The result of the excessive puffskein hair was that the potion lasted a bit longer than it should have when he finally finished and gave it a try. He sat laughing at lunch while Sirius complained loudly to Remus and Peter about how boring he found the class to be.

“I thought it was brilliant,” Lily said from just a couple people away, her eyes meeting Sirius’s.

“That’s because Slughorn went on about you for a good ten minutes,” Sirius snapped.

“Oh look how marvelously she’s cut her leaves,” simpered Peter, imitating Slughorn. James would have laughed even if he wasn’t already laughing.

Lily rolled her eyes, “Don’t be jealous because I’m smarter than you are, Sirius, it’s unbecoming.”
“Smarter?” Sirius snorted, “You think cutting up a bunch of leaves makes you smarter than me?”

“How long did it take you to make your potion, then?” she demanded.

Sirius obviously didn’t want to answer that, though he hadn’t been the very last - that honor had gone to Peter, who never did finish the task but had finally been made to clear out because the next class would be coming down from the Great Hall soon - but he’d certainly taken a considerable time longer than Lily had. He muttered something about beginners luck and started shoveling food into his mouth, ignoring the triumphant smirk on Lily’s face as she turned back to her second year friends.

James wished he could stop laughing.

Moony

James’s laughing potion lasted until the boys were heading out of the castle for their Herbology class in the greenhouses across the grounds. They were at the door of the entrance hall, Peter already two steps outside, when Professor McGonagall called Remus back. “Mr. Lupin!” she called out. The boys all stopped, but Remus waved the other three on and turned back to see what it was that Professor McGonagall wanted. She approached swiftly and said, “Professor Dumbledore has requested a moment to speak with you in his office before you go to your next class. He says that it is most urgent.”

Remus nodded and followed Professor McGonagall upstairs and down several twisting corridors until they reached the stone gargoyles where he’d met the headmaster earlier in the week. “Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum!” said Professor McGonagall in a ringing voice and the gargoyle leaped away to reveal a stone doorway with a spiraling staircase beyond. “Up you go, Mr. Lupin,” McGonagall said, shooing him in the doorway. “Just knock when you get to the top and the headmaster will let you in.”

“You aren’t coming with me?” Remus asked as he stepped inside.

“Professor Dumbledore has requested a private word,” she explained and she stepped back and the stone gargoyle jumped back in front of the doorway.

Remus looked up the spiraling staircase. It seemed to go on forever. It seemed an awfully long way up for an old man like Dumbledore to be climbing so many stairs. But the moment Remus took a step onto the stairwell he discovered that it magically came to life and the stairs began to move upward, carrying him without a single mite of effort from his part. He just stared up, watching the landing far above him slowly come closer and closer… At the very top, he stepped off onto a landing and the stairs ground to a halt behind him.

There wasn’t much to the landing. There was a big wooden door before him, with a welcome mat on the stone floor just outside of it and a purple umbrella with golden stars all over it leaned against the wall beside a pair of lemon yellow galoshes. Remus walked up to the door and hesitated, then raised his fist, which seemed comparably tiny, and knocked on the door.

For a moment, nothing but silence followed the echoing sound of the knock, and Remus had raised his fist up to knock again when the door was flung open wide to reveal Album Dumbledore. “Welcome,” Dumbledore greeted him, ushering him inside.

The office was brightly lit by the afternoon sunlight coming in through the window, giving it that warm, comfortable feeling. A gold and red plumed bird sat on a stand by the window - a phoenix, Remus recognized it from his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. There was a heavy mahogany desk and behind it a wall full of portraits of old headmasters with ornate frames and tiny brass plates that read their names and the dates of their appointment at Hogwarts. Dumbledore smiled benignly, giving Remus a few minutes to inspect some silver instruments lining the bookshelves and then he said, “Tonight is the night of the full moon.”

Remus looked around at him in surprise. He hadn’t ever forgotten the night of the full moon before, but he’d been so caught up in his new friends and classes that he had this time. He looked at Dumbledore in surprise.

“I understand,” Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling, “There are so many new things to experience that the time has snuck upon you. I must ask you to go to the shrieking shack for the safety of your new friends, though, Remus, and return once you’ve recovered from the change. I’ve had some of the house elves deliver your dinner to the shack.” He sat down in a heavy chair behind the desk, motioning for Remus to sit in the chairs opposite him. Remus sat. “I am very sorry that the cycle is this close to the beginning of the school year, but I’ve sent a note to Professor Viridi letting her know that it is I who have kept you from your first Herbology class so that you are excused and I’m afraid you may miss your first Defense Against the Dark Arts as well… but if you do, I shall inform Professor Tutman as well.”

Remus nodded, though he was disappointed. All of the boys had been looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Bilius Weasley had told them at the lunch table, amongst James’s potion-induced laughter, that he’d had his first Defense Against the Dark Arts and had adored every moment of it, claiming that Tutman was “a bloody genius” and his new favorite teacher.

Dumbledore smiled sadly at Remus, as though he’d read the boy’s mind, and said, “Don’t you worry, there will be many other Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons to attend before your career here is through.”

“I know,” Remus answered.

“You remember how to get into the passage beneath the Whomping Willow, Remus?” Dumbledore asked.

Remus nodded.

“Splendid.” Dumbledore stood up and walked around the desk and stood before Remus. He put his hand on his shoulder and they gazed at each other’s eyes for a moment, a very serious look on Dumbledore’s face. “I want you to know that your being here at Hogwarts is an act of extreme bravery, far above that which is usually exhibited by young men your age.”

“How?” Remus asked, looking up. “I’m just going to school.”

“But most werewolves do not bother with education,” Dumbledore said. “They don’t fight the urges that come to them naturally. You are among the first to fight it.”

Remus took a deep breath. “To not fight it --” he shook his head, the images in his mind too horrible to complete the sentence. All of his friends and family torn to shreds… him to blame…

“That is precisely why you are brave, Remus,” Dumbledore said. He glanced out the window, where the sun was beginning to turn to gold and pink. “I think it is time that you should be on your way, my boy.”

Remus glanced at the pink sky and nodded, “Thank you, Professor.”

“You are most welcome,” Dumbledore said.

Remus left Dumbledore’s office feeling better about himself than he’d felt in ages. Dumbledore thought he was brave! It wasn’t just the sorting hat that thought so. Honestly, he’d questioned the hat’s choice of sending him to Gryffindor, but the moment the hat had been put on his head it had exclaimed that he was extremely bold and brave for being there.

He dropped his book bag into the trunk at the foot of his bed and shut it up tight. He wondered, as he raced back through the corridors and down the moving staircases, what the other boys would think when they came back to the Gryffindor common room and the dormitory and didn’t see Remus for the next few days. He glanced in the direction of the greenhouses and could see the shadows of his classmates through the foggy glass, working with the plants within.

The Whomping Willow was around the side of the castle where hardly anyone would have reason to be at this hour of the day, but Remus approached it slowly, looking around so as not to be caught. He wished he’d asked Dumbledore if there was an easy way to get close enough to hit the knot with a rock without being spotted by other students. Deciding that the coast was clear, Remus sprinted over to the place where Dumbledore had stood with him before and snatched a rock from among the grass, turning to look at the knot. The tree was waving about in the late afternoon light, as though dancing merrily, and not paying much attention to anything going on at it’s trunk. But still. Remus didn’t much fancy being pummelled by tree branches. He’d never been very good at sports of any kind - muggle or wizarding - and it took him a few shots with the rocks before he finally hit the knot, freezing the whomping willow’s branches, and he ran forward and slipped into the gap at the root.

The passageway was even darker and more lonesome now than it had felt with Dumbledore present.

“Lumos,” Remus muttered, lighting up his wand tip. The tunnel stretched on and on forever into the darkness. Behind him, the door in the roots of the tree was closing up and daylight was gone, the only illumination now his wand. He began running down the passageway, only just barely short enough that he didn’t have to hunch over.

As he ran, he realized that this all felt a bit like a grand adventure. It was much more exciting than the old bomb shelter in the backyard of his parents’ home, where he usually spent the nights of the full moon, completely alone. His time as a wolf was blurred in his mind, just flashing memories of losing himself in a bloodthirst that seemed to consume him fully. He always came to after the moon had passed, naked and alone on the floor of the shelter, surrounded by the evidence that he’d torn apart anything he could get his claws onto - furniture, shelves of tinned foods, pillows…

Remus emerged in the Shrieking Shack an hour later, his heart racing from having run most of the way down the tunnel, and he closed the trap door behind him with a heavy ker-thunk. He looked around the little shack. It was dark, other than his wand tip, but as a wolf he would prefer that anyway. He used the wand to find his way to the kitchen and on the table there was one of the Hogwarts plates - gold with the crest on it’s face, and a goblet. The plate and goblet were empty. Remus walked over and sat at the table and reached for the plate, pulling it closer to inspect it. The moment his fingers touched it, warm food appeared and he gasped in surprise, then eagerly began to eat.

After he ate, he wandered around the shrieking shack, exploring until the effects of the moon changed him, and he found his way upstairs to a bedroom with a four poster bed just like he had back at the castle. On the wall hung a moon chart for the entire term, with dates and phases of the moon listed so that he could see exactly when the full moon had become the waxing gibbous and would be safe to venture forth back to Hogwarts.

He smiled. Dumbledore had really thought of everything.

That was when he noticed the window. This one window had been barred instead of boarded, affording him a view of the dark castle off in the distance over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. He smiled - it was already a sort of home to him - and he walked toward the window, the floorboards creaking as he went, wanting a closer look and it was there, in the room, in front of the window, as a cloud shifted that the moonlight struck him and with a shuddering cry - which turned from the shout of a boy to the howl of a wolf - that Remus Lupin changed.

Lily

Alice Bell had an older brother on the Gryffindor Quidditch team who played chaser and was known around the school for being one of the best on the team. He scored points like crazy. He was built large, with broad shoulders and strong features. The sixth year girls of Gryffindor swooned as he walked by them to where his little sister sat with Lily Evans. He set his books down and gazed at Lily for a moment. "I heard you saw Potter's catch."

Lily frowned, "Yeah, I saw it."

"Honestly Derek," Alice protested, "She's been asked about this so many times - if she had a knut for every time, she'd be rolling in riches."

"I'm sorry, I just had to find out if it really was as impressive as everyone's made it out to be," Derek explained.

"It was not," Lily lied. "It was a red gum ball, even I could have caught it if I wanted to." Her voice was tense.

Derek looked no less impressed, but he didn't insist on continuing talking about it. Instead, he turned to Alice. "How are your classes going?"

"Well," she answered.

"Excuse me." They all three looked up. A second year boy with thin glasses and a nervous expression had come over.

"Oh hi Frank," said Alice. "This is Frank Longbottom," she said. "Frank this is Lily Evans and this is --"

"Derek Bell, yeah," Frank nodded vigorously. "I was curious when tryouts were. I heard Gryffindor needs a beater this year." He was staring at Alice, though, and appeared more interested in her than he was in Derek or the tryouts. Alice was oblivious.

Derek looked Frank Longbottom over. Lily didn't know much about Quidditch but she knew without asking that Frank was far too scrawny to play any position called 'beater'. But Derek was nice enough. "Next Friday afternoon," he told Frank, "On the pitch at 4:00."

Frank beamed. "Thanks," he said. He started to turn away, then turned back to look at Alice. "See you around the common room."

"See you," she answered, already concentrating on her dinner more than she was on Frank. Lily watched as Frank walked back down the table and sat down with the other second year boys.

“Everyone is really into Quidditch here, huh?” Lily asked.

Alice rolled her eyes, “Oh God yes,” she groaned, “And the season hasn’t even started yet! Just wait - it gets worse.”

As though to emphasize Alice’s point, a fourth year slapped Derek on the back and said, “Alright Bell?” as he passed by. Alice smacked her palm to her forehead in frustration.

Derek smirked at his sister’s annoyance. “As you can see, my sister is the exception to the rule around here. Everyone at Hogwarts is into Quidditch - especially the Gryffindor-Slytherin matches. Even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff choose sides.” He grinned, “Usually Gryffindor. The stands get pretty loud… everyone cheering…” Derek’s face was taken over by a dreamy, sort of nostalgic expression, as though he were recalling the sound of the pitch, echoing with spectators.

“If I’m the exception,” Alice said, waving at Derek with her fork, “Then he is the epitome of the rule.”

A floppy grin crossed Derek’s face and he shrugged, “It’s a great sport. Excitement, blood, tension - the wind in your hair, the whistle of the flying quaffle, the crack of a bludger off the beaters’ bats…” he took a deep breath, and turned to Lily. “Do you play?”

Lily shook her head.

“Stupid, she’s muggle-born,” Alice reprimanded him, grabbing another potato jacket from the platter in front of her, “Muggles don’t play Quidditch.”

Derek said, “Well. Maybe you should try out. You’ve got an excellent build for a chaser.”

Lily looked down at herself.

“BELL!”

Derek looked down the Gryffindor table at the other members of the Quidditch team. Another sixth year was waving him over eagerly. “Gotta go,” he said, grabbing one of the chocolate eclairs that were on a platter in front of Lily. “See ya ‘round the common room later.” He ducked off, shoving the eclair into his mouth messily.

“Ugh,” Alice groaned. She grabbed a napkin and wiped the place he’d been sitting, where crumbs had fallen onto the table. “He’s such a slob!”

“What did he mean by I had the build for being a chaser?” Lily asked, frowning.
“Only that you’re small and probably can fly really fast is all,” she said, shaking out the napkin and turning back to her potato jacket. “Good for scoring.”

Lily had played futbol when she was little, until Tuney had decided that sports were for boys and their parents hadn’t wanted to separate the girls, so Lily had been made to quit the team, too. She’d always had a lot of fun playing, though. Some part of her was a little excited at the thought of it.

“He was trying to recruit you is all,” Alice said, not noticing Lily’s mild excitement.

“Well I’m only a first year,” Lily said, deflating a little bit. “It doesn’t really matter, I can’t try out anyway.”

Alice changed the subject and they started talking about silly things for a few minutes before Lily felt a heavy hand resting on her shoulder. She turned around in her seat and found herself face-to-face with Professor Slughorn. He had a big pocket watch in his palm and he was fingering it with his thumb thoughtfully. “Miss. Evans,” he greeted her, voice booming, “Might I have a word with you?”

“Yeah,” Lily said, getting up. She glanced back at Alice as Slughorn led her into the entrance hall, where students were milling between dinner and the stairs. Lily spotted James Potter and Sirius Black, sitting on the stairs. They were still covered with dirt from Herbology class and were tossing a fanged frisbee back and forth over Peter Pettigrew’s head as he read his Potions textbook. Lily scowled at them from the corner that Professor Slughorn had led her to. James responded to her scowl with a grin, then made a face at her, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. Lily rolled her eyes.

“Miss. Evans, I have been positively obsessed with your performance in Potions this morning,” Professor Slughorn said, “You are on the path to becoming an excellent potioneer… and, according to your other teachers, you’re quite exceptional all around.”

Behind Slughorn, James and Sirius were goofing off, jumping up and down, trying to distract her from what he was saying. She wished they’d go away, but the more perturbed she looked ,the more they did it.

“You’re muggle-born you said?” Slughorn asked.

Lily nodded, “Yes sir.” She wasn’t sure how else to answer.

“Remarkable,” he muttered. The way Slughorn had said it, it was a bad thing to be muggle-born, as though it was unbelievable she could be both muggle-born and intelligent. It made her feel the teensiest bit angry and defensive and she wished Professor Slughorn would just get on with whatever it was he was trying to ask.

“We may not be together
We may be far apart
But you’ll never be too far away
From my broken heart
I’ll see you in the bubbles
Of the potions in my cauldron
And in the full moon
When the werewolf is howlin’...”

Sirius was singing loudly as James lip-synced the words to a song Lily had heard in the Second Year’s dormitory by The Charmers, a wizarding band that Alice and her friends fancied. James, admittedly, looked somewhat like the singer, and now he was standing on the stairs, his palm splayed over his chest, wand held up as though it were a microphone as he walked down them theatrically, dancing as he went.

Lily’s mouth was a very straight line.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve extracted you from the Great Hall just to talk to you about your academic talents,” Slughorn said, chuckling, rocking on the ball of his feet as he continued to finger his pocket watch thoughtfully. “You see, I have a little group - sort of an honors club. It’s an excellent opportunity for networking, meeting the next generation of - er, gifted witches and wizards, see…”

“No matter how long we’ve been apart
You’ll for ever be in my memory
And I’ll see your face every time
I look into my pensieve…”

Sirius was belting out the lyrics to the song with great flourishing notes as James skid down onto his knees in the center of the hall. People were looking their way, whispering to one another, pointing and watching their performance. Even Peter Pettigrew had put aside his books and begun laughing uproariously from the stairwell.

Slughorn followed Lily’s gaze across the hall at the trainwreck that was Sirius and James. “Those boys,” he said, shaking his head, “Troublemakers. If they were in my house…” Professor Slughorn sighed, then turned back to look at Lily. “I’d be honored if you came by our next meeting.”

“Meeting?” Lily had only half heard any of what Slughorn had been saying.

“Yes,” he said, nodding, “The next meeting of the Slug Club. It could be a good opportunity for you to meet others at the school who are more --” he paused, rolling his eyes back toward Sirius and James as James flailed about on the floor dramatically, “-- your own academic speed.”

Lily looked up at Professor Slughorn. Had he just called Sirius Black and James Potter stupid, in so many words? Amusement snuck it’s way onto Lily’s face.

Slughorn took the expression to be his answer. “Excellent!” he bellowed.

Lily looked up in surprise.

“It’s next Thursday, after your flying club, in my office. I’ll send you an official invitation by owl,” Professor Slughorn said, slapping her heartily on the back. “I’ll see you in Potions, dear.” He waddled away, smiling and whistling to himself.

Lily wasn’t sure what exactly she’d gotten herself into, but she blamed James and Sirius for distracting her. She glowered at James, angrily clenching her jaw. He was taking a bow as the onlookers clapped and cheered for them all around the entrance hall. James caught her eyes and a smirking grin spread across his face and he winked.

Lily hated when he winked at her. She didn’t understand what in the world he could mean by it, but she was certain of one thing: Coming from James Potter, it couldn’t be anything good. Lily let out an exasperated sigh and turned, storming back into the Great Hall where Alice Bell was craning her neck to see what was going on in the other room.

“What was that?”

“James Potter being a toerag,” she replied.

Prongs

“What is all the racket out here?!”

Professor McGonagall came out of the Great Hall almost immediately after Lily had disappeared through the doors, as James and Sirius were still taking their bows before the students of Hogwarts. Her eyes narrowed when she saw James, Sirius, and Peter on the stairwell, the center of attention, and she trotted over. “Off to your quarters, boys,” she shooed them.

Sirius leaped down from the third stair, “But Professor - we’re waiting for Remus.”

“Yeah, we haven’t eaten yet,” James added.

She sighed, “Remus will not be rejoining you this evening. Professor Dumbledore has informed me that he fell ill earlier this evening and was sent to the hospital wing to be treated by Madam Pomfrey.”

“What’s wrong with him?” James prodded.

Professor McGonagall shook her head, “Dumbledore didn’t tell me. Now off you go, get some dinner and then it’s off to your dormitories with you. I don’t want to see you hanging around causing disruptions again.” She chased the three of them off into the Great Hall and to the Gryffindor table, where she left them, heading back up to the staff table.

James, Sirius, and Peter sat down. Peter quickly grabbed sandwiches from a platter, and Sirius went for a couple chicken drums, but James rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wondering about Remus and this mysterious illness that he’d suddenly come down with. “You better eat,” Sirius told James, “McGonagall’s watching us.” James looked up at the staff table and sure enough she had one eye on the boys, the other was nodding along with a conversation she was holding with Professor Viridi. James grabbed a couple sandwiches and ate them distractedly.

Once the boys had eaten their fill, they headed up to Gryffindor tower. The common room was crowded and there was no way they’d get to the comfortable chairs before midnight so they headed up to their dorms to do their homework - though Peter seemed to be the only one actually doing any. He sat diligently at his desk and poured over the books and scrolls of notes he’d taken in Potions while Sirius laid on the floor and attempted to practice the Wingardium Leviosa charm. James, however, was laying on his back, his feet up on the wall, tossing the red Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum ball up in the air and catching it again over and over, thinking, eyes half on Remus’s empty bed.

“So where do you think Remus is?” James asked outloud.

“Professor McGonagall told you,” Sirius said, aiming his wand at an old sock he’d extracted from the rubble of his trunk. “He’s in the hospital wing, ill.”

“He left to see Dumbledore and just… gets sick?” James said in a disbelieving tone.

Sirius shrugged. “Wingardium… leviosa!” The sock limply wiggled but didn’t lift off the ground.

“Maybe Dumbledore and him had some cookies and they were bad and he got food poisoning,” suggested Peter from his desk.

James’s face wrinkled with skepticism.

Sirius rolled his eyes at James behind Peter’s back. He waved his wand again, “Wiiiingarrrrdium levio-SA!” The sock flipped over pathetically. Sirius groaned. “I’m never going to get this to work!”

“Wingardium leviosa!” The voice had come from the doorway and the sock lifted up, floating high above Sirius’s head towards the ceiling. All three of them looked up to see Bilius Weasley in the doorway. “Hey guys,” he said, and he let the sock drop. It fell onto Sirius’s lap. “Didn’t see you in the common room, so I thought I’d check up here. I heard you put on quite the performance on the grand staircase.”

“Our rendition of ‘I’ll Be Seeing You In My Pensieve’ was a hit with the witches,” nodded Sirius with a dashing playboy grin. “Maybe we should start our own band, James, what do you think? We could call ourselves… the Broomstick Boys.”

Bilius laughed, “I can see the cover of Teen Witch Magazine now. Cheesy matching outfits and swooning third years…”

Sirius laughed heartily.

Bilius grinned. “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you found your way back up here alright, since you weren’t downstairs.” He paused, looking around. “Where’s Remus?”

“Hospital wing,” Peter Pettigrew replied.

“At least that’s what they say,” James added darkly.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bilius asked.

Sirius answered, “We don’t know.”

“Would be nice to know that at least,” James commented, “What if it’s contagious?”

“I’m sure Professor McGonagall would have moved us if it was contagious,” said Sirius, but James noticed that Peter twitched uncomfortably and inched a little further away from Remus’s desk, which was next to his.

“Well, if you decide you’re tired of homework and you want to play a round of Exploding Snap or Wizards Chess come on downstairs,” Bilius said, and he ducked out of the room, bringing the door closed behind him.

The boys didn’t go downstairs, though, they stayed up in their dormitory, awake late into the night until Sirius had finally mastered the levitation charm and Peter fell asleep on his parchment, snoring loudly at his desk. “Look up if there’s an anti-snoring charm,” James requested. Sirius did, but there wasn’t a charm like that which he could find, so he used his new levitation skills to wingardium leviosa Peter into his bed. The endeavor went fairly well - he managed to only hit Peter in the head once, and Peter managed to sleep through it so Sirius said it didn’t really count if he didn’t feel it.

The next day was Saturday, the first free day they had at Hogwarts and they rushed out onto the grounds excited to explore. They hoped that Remus would show up but he didn’t all day. James and Sirius spent a fair amount of the time outdoors trying to lose Peter, who followed them around like a shadow as they walked down to the lake and threw toast to the giant squid to watch his long tentacles grab at the bread as it floated away from the water’s edge.

That night, Remus still hadn’t returned and James’s suspicions were growing. “What could possibly have made him so sick he doesn’t come back for two whole nights?” he demanded, again shirking off his homework while Peter did his at the desk. This time, Sirius sat on his bed and they were tossing the gumball back and forth.

By Sunday night, they still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Remus Lupin.

“Do you think it’s something serious?” he asked, looking around. “Do you reckon he’s dying or something? I mean, three whole nights. And let’s face it, he didn’t exactly look like a specimen of health to begin with…”

“I’m sure he’s not dying,” Peter argued.

“You never know,” James replied. “I was over a muggle friend’s house and I saw a television program that was raising pounds for kids with cancer at the muggle hospital in London… Remus doesn’t look much different than them.”

Sirius shook his head, “If it was cancer they’d have sent him to St. Mungo’s to have it magicked out, wouldn’t they?” he said.

“Maybe they have,” James suggested, “None of us have seen him, after all.”

Sirius rubbed his chin. “Maybe we should go visit him. Not because I don’t believe Professor McGonagall when she says he’s there but because it must be boring up there in the hospital wing without anyone to talk to. We should’ve gone over the weekend.”

“You want to go visit him now?” Peter asked, looking up from the parchment he was working on for Herbology. “But it’s dark and it’s against the rules to be out of the common room at night…”

“Not now, obviously,” Sirius replied, “But - maybe tomorrow after Defense Against the Dark Arts, if he’s not back by then.”

James agreed and the boys went to bed, crawling under their blankets as the air had cooled considerably in the last couple days as autumn set in and the last of the summer nights had come and gone. He fell asleep staring through a crack in his four poster’s curtains, wondering and hoping that Remus was okay.

Padfoot

Professor Adom Tutman had sharp features and wore long robes made from a rough tan material. He had gold earrings and thick, dark eyebrows that seemed to stand off of his deeply tanned face like great fuzzy caterpillars. He stood at the front of the classroom, arms crossed over his chest as he watched them file in and sit down with appraising, bright green eyes. There had been quite a bit of talk in the Great Hall about Professor Tutman. Apparently this was his first year teaching at Hogwarts. He’d been hired on after the last Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had quit without notice at the end of term the year before. In fact, according to Bilius, he had had a different Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher every year he had been attending Hogwarts and he’d heard it had gone on longer than that, even, way back into the 1950s. “They say the job’s cursed,” he had whispered across the Gryffindor table. But Adom Tutman looked like he could not only take on a curse, but that he would win against even the most powerful of them.

His eyes swept over the lot of them and down to his roster. “Such a small class,” he muttered. He had a thick accent that they couldn’t place.

“We’re missing one,” offered Sirius. “He’s ill, up in the hospital wing.”

“I see.” Professor Tutman nodded, his finger on the roster. “Well, then, you’re all here, let’s begin.” He withdrew a long gold-looking wand from a funny little holster on his hip and waved it at the door, closing it right, and he turned back-to the students. A large chalkboard hovered behind his desk and he flicked his wand again and a piece of chalk leaped out of the tray at it’s base and began scribbling notes frantically across it in powdery white letters. “The Dark Arts is what we call magic of a negative nature, the stuff that would be used against you by a dark wizard. The purpose of learning defensive magical theory is to protect you against attacks that you may face. In this level of the class, we shall learn simple tactics of disarming, stunning, and otherwise stopping your opponent in a duel.”

On the chalkboard, several spells and their purposes were being written out. They all quickly copied down what it was saying, muttering the spells under their breaths. “Expelliarmus, stupefy, protego, protego duo, protego maxima, salvio hexia, revilio incantantum, revilio huminus…” The list was quite long, the purpose of most of the spells was to cast a shield that protected from dark magic of varying degrees of horribleness in small and large areas and opposing skill levels. Professor Tutman nodded and paced as he listened to the scratching of their quills on parchment. “You just never know when you might need these spells,” he said, “You never know when you could be attacked. The purpose is to be always on the lookout, always ready, always capable of protecting yourselves from danger… for it is out there and it is getting stronger.”

Sirius and James shared a look.

“What do you think he meant ‘it is getting stronger’?” James asked a couple hours later as the four Gryffindor first years made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch after the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson was over.

Lily, who was close enough to hear the question came to a stop and turned around. “Dumbledore said it at the start of term feast, didn’t he?” she said, “There’s some mad politics going on and, I don’t know about the wizarding world because I wasn’t raised in it like you were, but, in the muggle world, mad politics means a bad leader. That can lead to a war. Professor Tutman obviously has been told to instruct us in ways to protect ourselves in case the political situation gets even worse.”

James looked surprised. He hadn’t expected Lily to turn around and actually speak to him. He hadn’t even been talking to her when he’d asked. He’d actually been talking to Sirius, who now looked just as surprised as James felt at the sound of Lily’s voice.

“You’re right,” he stammered. “Of course you’re right.”

Lily stared at them a moment, all stopped in the corridor at the top of the stairs into the entrance hall where the boys had done their performance the night before. For a moment, there was a strange feeling that seemed to surge among them - something none of them could explain but that all of them felt. It was as though the prospect of a future fight had momentarily unguarded and united them.

Then a heard of Slytherins, coming down from their classes in the halls above, came trooping by and Lily spotted Severus among them and she scrambled to get away from James and Sirius before Severus could see her with them, running over to greet him.

James looked at Sirius, who shrugged, and they trooped off after the Slytherins into the Great Hall.

“Are we still going to visit Remus in the hospital wing after this?” James asked.

“Yes,” Sirius answered, “As soon as we’ve eaten we’ll go up. We can knick a couple treacle tarts from the table for him if we stick around for dessert.”

“No need to,” said Peter, pointing to the Gryffindor table.

Remus was sitting at the table, looking pale and tired. “Blimey he looks like one of the house ghosts,” muttered Sirius as they approached. He flung himself onto the bench beside Remus. “Well look what Mrs. Norris dragged in,” he announced. “Are you feeling better, then?” he asked.

“Better?” Remus asked, looking ‘round as the three of them sat down around him.

“Yeah, from the hospital wing?” James prompted, “Professor McGonagall told us you were ill and Madam Pomfrey was tending to you.”

“Oh yeah,” Remus nodded, “Much better, thank you.” He stared down at the plate of chips he was eating with a roast beef sandwich. His hands were shaking slightly as he devoured the food and he had some sort of smelly drink he was washing it down with.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, eyeing the drink.

“A replenishing potion,” Remus answered. “Dumbledore gave it to me, said it would help me feel better. I didn’t really eat while I was… sick.”

James frowned, “My mum usually makes this brilliant soup when I’m sick,” he said, “You should’ve eaten soup. Always makes me feel much better.”

Remus shrugged, “I didn’t have soup.”

“I’m sure Madam Pomfrey would’ve gotten you some if you asked,” Sirius said.

Remus shrugged again.

“You missed a brilliant Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Sirius said, changing the subject since Remus obviously wasn’t wanting to talk about it. “Bilius was right, Professor Tutman seems really cool.” He reached in his bag and pulled out the parchment with the notes he’d scribbled down on it, “You can copy my notes. We started learning expelliarmus today. Lily Evans took Professor Tutman’s wand with the spell, but she’s the only one that got it. James almost got mine, it sort of tried to wriggle away from my hand but I just held tighter and stopped it going.”

“You could’ve let it go and made me look good,” James said ruefully.

“And look stupid myself?” Sirius asked, shaking his head, “No way.”

The boys finished lunch, filling Remus in on everything that he had missed since he’d been gone and then it was time to go out onto the grounds for Herbology in the greenhouses. Since Remus had missed the first Herbology lesson of the term, the other three had to fill him in on what they’d learned about Puffapods and warning him against the Venomous Tentacula that had a nasty habit of sneaking up on the students with its long vines when they weren’t looking. Twice it had tapped Professor Viridi on the shoulders during their last lesson and she’d had to chase it off of a Hufflepuff boy it had taken a fancy to.

Sirius looked as though he were paying attention in Herbology that afternoon, but the truth was that he was still thinking about the Defense Against the Dark Arts class and the spells they’d learned there. One of the spells - the protego maxima - had specifically said it was strong enough to block off an illegal curse called the cruciatus curse. This had bothered him because he was fairly certain that this was the dreaded ‘crucio’ his mother had often cast on him and his brother as punishment - several times over the summer he’d laid prone to the torturous curse on the carpet of her library, twitching in pain as she administered it, shouting at him for annoying her. But if it was the same curse, then what she was doing was not just painful and harsh parenting but actually truly illegal, and not only that, but was, in fact, dark magic.

It bothered him to think about the idea that his mother would use such a curse on her children and it occurred to him to wonder if that was what she was doing to the people she was supposed to love then what was she doing to the people whom she hated? The idea struck him hard - was his father aware? Was he a dark wizard, too? Was that uncomfortable pit in the bottom of his stomach he’d been feeling all summer, that rebellious streak that had grown stronger and stronger in him since getting out of the house he’d grown up in, was that all the result of learning, slowly but surely, that his parents were actually dark wizards?

He didn’t dare mention any of this to the other boys, afraid they’d think that he might be dark, too. He wasn’t sure if darkness was something one inherited like one might inherit their parent’s features or tastes. Suddenly, more than anything else he’d ever done, he was very proud of himself for being sorted Gryffindor.

That night, they sat in the Gryffindor common room taking turns playing Exploding Snap and taking it in shifts to study when they weren’t one of the ones playing. Peter Pettigrew was quite good at the game, but James insisted that he was cheating somehow and Sirius was pretty sure he’d seen Peter bewitch a couple of the cards to stick together when James wasn’t looking. He worked on memorizing the defensive spells they’d learned, thinking they may be useful next time he got in trouble at home.

Severus

Severus Snape had always had strange dreams. They always featured mixtures of elements that didn't quite fit together and he'd be left with a funny, torn sort of feeling when he recalled them, as though he had been dreaming of two different dreams at once. Ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts it, had been getting worse.

Instead of just two different dreams, he was having dozens of them all at once, and they often got so confusing and overpacked that he would wake up and be unable to go back to sleep. Such a moment happened Tuesday night.

He awoke during the night in the Slytherin dormitory staring up at the roof of his four poster, confused because he had been dreaming about Quidditch, which was not at all like him, and not only that but at the game there had been a great squid and the squid had been handing out bottles of butterbeer and chocolate frogs while they were all under attack by a fearsome dragon. The dragon had curled its neck through the air and grabbed hold of Severus's broomstick and then --

"Ahhh!"

The boy in the next bed had awoken and, shouting, awakened Severus too, though he didn't make it known he was awake as well. He just stared into the dark while the boy panted and got up to pour himself some water from a pitcher across the room. "Only a dream, Dimitri, only a dream," he muttered to himself thickly. He drank the water quickly and crawled back into bed, the mattress springs groaning until he'd settled down and finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Wednesday, Severus was exhausted. He had barely slept at all and as a result he found his eyes were dark and sunken against his pale face, and he frowned into the mirror in agitation. He could just imagine what James Potter and Sirius Black would say about the shadows on his face when they saw him in the Great Hall. He moved his hair about, trying to block his face from the sides, figuring he could sit back-to the Gryffindors while he ate. But if he did that, he realized, he wouldn't see Lily. He wanted to see Lily and any amount of bullying would be worth it for her. It wasn't working, arranging his hair, anyway. He stopped and sighed and gave up, going down to the common room.

Dimitri Goyle and a second year boy, who Severus was fairly certain was surnamed Crabbe, were sitting on one of the long green couches under the dome of the lake that was the Slytherin common room's ceiling. Dimitri was in the middle of talking as Severus walked by. "...a great chomp and he bit onto my broom!"

Severus hesitated and turned around, standing behind the couch, his brow furrowed. Goyle couldn't possibly have had the same dream as he had... could he?

"Blimey, and then what happened?" Crabbe asked.

"Well then I woke up of course," Goyle answered, "Don't you know if you're eaten by a dragon in your dream, you die in real life?"

"Whoa, close one," Crabbe said with a shudder of awe.

Goyle looked up at Severus suddenly, as though only just realizing he was there. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," Severus answered and he turned around nearly walking straight into Lucius Malfoy. "Sorry," he said, "Didn't hear you come up."

Lucius didn't answer, instead he said to Crabbe, "I have an opportunity for you and I'd like to speak with you here, in the common room, tonight, after midnight so that no one will interrupt us." He glanced around the room pointedly. His eyes fell on Severus. “You can come, too." With that, he swept from the room in a flurry.

“What sort of meeting?” Crabbe asked.

Lucius hesitated, then, very quietly, “It’s a sort of a - uh - a secret society.”

Upstairs a little bit later, at breakfast, Severus was still pondering about the dream he had evidently shared with Dimitri Goyle and he wondered what could have caused them to have the same dream. He watched Goyle down the end of the house table, stuffing his large face with toast and bread pudding. He didn't feel as though he had anything in common with him at all.

"Sev?"

Lily was suddenly at his elbow, having snuck up so quietly that he hadn't even heard her come by. Her bright green eyes would have looked so beautiful against the emerald color of the Slytherin uniforms, he thought randomly; much better than that Gryffindor red that clashed horribly with her hair.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a little sharper than he meant to because of the way she’d surprised him.

Lily looked surprised by his tone. “I came over to talk to you…” she replied, “It’s just that I waved and you didn’t wave back… and you look so tired. Didn’t you sleep?” Her brows furrowed with concern as she tilted her head just a little bit to one side to get a good look at him.

He shook his head to reply.

Down the length of the Slytherin house table, he could hear the other students whispering, asking each other who she was. It was so rare that a Gryffindor student approached the Slytherin table (or vice versa) that the two of them were instantly the center of attention from end to end of the table. He could feel their eyes on them. Lily didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you angry with me?” Lily asked.

“No,” Severus said in a clipped tone.

He was suddenly very sickly aware of the word ‘mudblood’ being whispered down the table and out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucius Malfoy stand up at the other end. The looks they were getting were shifting from curious to disdainful.

“Lily,” he said, panicked, “Can I talk to you later?”

“Sev, you’re acting very strange, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

Severus gave her a pleading look. “Lily, please,” he said, “I’ll talk to you later. Just go away.”

She looked hurt. “Fine,” she said. “I only wanted to know if you were alright, but obviously you’re quite fine over here without me.” She turned and walked away, her hair swinging with indignation. But only just in time.

“Who was that?” Lucius stepped up behind Severus, watching after Lily’s retreating back as she rejoined Alice Bell at the Gryffindor table across the Great Hall from where they were. He put a hand on Severus’s shoulder.

“Some girl I knew back home,” Severus answered vaguely.

“She’s a mudblood,” Lucius observed.

Severus nodded, “Yeah, she is.”

Lucius leaned down so that his mouth was close to Severus’s ear. “Do be careful,” he said lowly. “Befriending the Wrong Sort here at Hogwarts could have an effect on the rest of your life.” His voice was cold. “You are a half-blood; we have not forgotten, nor should you.” He stood upright, his eyes lingering on Severus’s meaningfully, and then he turned and walked away.

Severus suddenly felt chilled, as though a cup of cold water had been poured directly down the length of his spine. He looked across the hall, hoping Lily had seen that Lucius had come over to talk to him and that maybe she would understand why he’d been so short with her, but she was very purposefully not looking in his direction. Severus sighed miserably and pushed the barely-touched bowl of porridge before him away.

Lily avoided him all day. Every time he thought he’d get a chance to see her or talk to her about what happened at breakfast, she seemed to magically disappear. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have insisted she had an invisibility cloak for how hard it was to even spot her. Between worrying she thought he hated her, wondering about his shared dream with Goyle, and feeling strangely anxious over Lucius Malfoy’s warning, Severus was distracted and making stupid mistakes in his classes. For example, he managed to smash several teacups in Transfiguration, including Evan Rosier’s dormouse, which was what they’d been turning the teacups into - though that was partly Rosier’s fault anyway because his mouse was still made of china otherwise it would not have broken.

At dinner, Severus wasn’t hungry, but he went to the Great Hall anyway in hopes of getting a chance to talk to Lily for a moment, but Lucius seemed to appear out of nowhere at all and brought Severus along to the Slytherin table with him, one arm over his shoulders as though protecting him from the Gryffindors. “You’ll be joining us in the common room tonight, won’t you?” he asked.

Severus nodded, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to join them.

“I think the organization will be most… enlightening… for you,” Lucius said as they walked over to the seat that he always occupied. Narcissa Black was already waiting for them there.

“Is it that Death Eaters club you’ve been talking about?” Severus asked curiously.

Lucius chuckled, “The Death Eaters are hardly a club,” he said. “You can’t really become a Death Eater until the Dark Lord has seen proof that you’re trustworthy anyway. You have to prove yourself to him, prove your loyalty. Then, and only then, the Dark Lord may ask you to join.”

“So what is this club thing you want to talk to us about then?” Severus asked.

“Think of it as a prerequisite for joining forces with the Dark Lord, the most powerful wizard in the world,” Lucius answered. “Just come tonight and I’ll be able to explain it better then.”

Severus nodded.

They sat down and ate dinner, Severus mostly pushing his food about on the plate with his fork, stealing glances at Lily, who had sat back-to the Slytherin table as the final act of gouging the knife in his heart. As soon as he got the opportunity, Severus ran off from the meeting and down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, where he hoped to get a couple hours sleep in before the midnight meeting.

He slept fairly well during his nap, and attributed it to being alone in the dorm he shared with six other first year students. Sometimes it was just too loud in there for sleeping, he reckoned.

When he emerged from the dorm at midnight for Lucius Malfoy’s meeting, he found a blend of students sitting around on the couches and chairs, Lucius in the center of them, pacing, the only person in the common room standing up. Severus made his way to one of the couches and sat down, glancing around. He recognized Evan Rosier and Dimitri Goyle from his year. There was also that second year boy, Crabbe. Alistor Mulciber, the fifth year, and his second year brother, Geoffrey. Germaine Avery, Alecto and Amycus Carrow (twins), Walden McNair, Antonin Dolohov, and, of course, Lucius’s girlfriend, Narcissa Black.

Once they’d all settled in around him, Lucius took a deep breath. “We’re here to discuss and opportunity for all of you to begin your careers in the service of the greatest wizard who ever has lived -” he paused for dramatic effect before half whispering the name, “Lord Voldemort.”

A shiver seemed to move through the room at the utterance of the name. Several of the older students seemed to bow their heads as though in respect of the name, even. Severus looked around at them.

“The Dark Lord, as you may know, has already accepted me into his services.” Lucius Malfoy proudly rolled up his left sleeve to show the others in the dorm the Dark Mark on his forearm. Antonin Dolohov stared at it the mark with a sort of desperate, yearning expression - the way a hungry child might look at a giant pile of chocolate frogs and pumpkin pasties on display in a shop in Diagon Alley. Dolohov clearly coveted the mark. “The Dark Lord doesn’t just accept anybody,” Lucius informed them. “You have to be smart and trustworthy and completely dedicated and loyal to your Master to become a Death Eater,” he explained, “You must prove yourself to be all of these things. Which is why Lord Voldemort has personally requested me to create a group here at the school, made up of students, students who would support him. It’s a sort of revival of a group he had when he was a student here, some thirty years ago… the Knights of Walpurgis.”

Another hush fell over them all.

“Joining this… club… will allow you to prove yourself worthy of the Dark Lord’s confidences. Joining this club will put you on the fast track to becoming one of those closest to the Dark Lord as he rises in power, as he takes over the world and purifies our wizarding race. Your name will be in history books for the future generations of Hogwarts students to learn about. Join this club and your name will never be forgotten.”

Severus stared up at Lucius Malfoy, his heart racing.

“This,” Lucius said pointly, eyes meeting Severus’s, “Is the opportunity to overcome your past, whatever may be lurking there.”

Prongs

Time at Hogwarts went by more quickly than it did anywhere else in Britain - James was fairly certain of it. How could it possibly be already Thursday afternoon again and time for another flying lesson without time being warped considerably at the castle? He couldn’t believe he’d already been at Hogwarts an entire week - it seemed like only yesterday he’d been crossing days off a calendar, waiting for the day he would board the Hogwarts Express. In another way, though, he felt as though he’d known Sirius Black and Remus Lupin all of his life. Time moved both fast and slow at Hogwarts.

They walked across the grounds, following after Lily Evans with little Peter Pettigrew trailing along behind them, running to keep up, nervously babbling about how he hoped he’d be better at flying this go around. Madam Hooch was waiting alone on the grass in the spot where they’d learned last time and as they approached she redirected them to the Quidditch Pitch, saying that today’s lesson was to be held in there as they had - and she said the next word with a bit of a tone of annoyance - an audience.

“Audience?” Lily asked, confused, “But who’s come to watch us learn how to fly?”

“Half the school, by the looks of it,” Madam Hooch answered.

James and Sirius exchanged excited looks and ran down the hill to the pitch.

Inside, James felt his entire body tingle with excitement. The stands rose up around them, the goals standing at each end of the long pitch. He breathed deeply the smell of freshly cut grass and the faintly lingering scent of popcorn from the stands. He looked around and saw that the other students were gathering brooms already and rushed over, hoping to get one of the better school brooms before they were all taken.

There really was quite a few people in the stands. Looking around, James saw Alice and Derek Bell in the front, along with the other Gryffindor team members. There were a couple others he guessed were Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff players. He felt a nervous jolt in his stomach and turned to Remus, who was standing beside him selecting a broom. “Why do you supposed they’re all here for?” he asked.

Remus shrugged, “To see you show off, I reckon.”

That was exactly the nervous thought that James had had that made him ask.

He didn’t get a very good broom, but it was better than some of the more broken down ones, like the one that Severus Snape had ended up with after he ran into the pitch later than everyone else, followed by Madam Hooch who motioned for them all to line up and command their brooms up. James could feel eyes on him from all over the pitch and his stomach rolled with excited nerves. This was it. This was his chance. It was as though he’d been granted his very own private try outs, a moment to shine all by himself without any others to compete against except the motley crew that didn’t even know how to fly for the most part. He glanced to one side and saw Peter Pettigrew had edged in closer to him, as though trying to spy his secret to flying and James smirked to himself.

“On my whistle, you may fly up ten feet and back down,” Madam Hooch called. James gripped the broom tight in his fists, on his toes, ready to kick off.

Fweeet!

He soared straight up into the air - more like twenty feet in the time it took the others to wobble delicately the ten feet prescribed - and did a quick loop-de-loop before coming back down for a perfect landing. There was a smattering of applause from the stands and James grinned as Sirius gave him a thumbs-up. Lily rolled her eyes and glanced back at Alice Bell, one of the only ones not clapping, who shrugged her shoulders as though to say she didn’t see anything special about it.

James caught Lily’s eye on the other side of Peter Pettigrew, who was struggling, only four or five feet off the ground, the broom seeming to buck and twist uncontrollably beneath him. “You’ve got to hold your hands up a bit more,” Lily suggested to Peter. Peter moved his hands, but the broom didn’t calm down.

“You’re too nervous,” James announced, looking over, “Calm down your nerves and you’ll do better. The broom can feel you’re scared and it doesn’t like not being controlled so it’s trying to throw you for a better rider. Take a deep breath and tell yourself you can do this. You can. Take it from a professional.” He grinned.

If he had thought that helping Peter Pettigrew would impress Lily, he was wrong. Lily looked positively exasperated. “A professional? Where? I don’t see one here.”

“Well, p’raps not yet but one day I will be,” James replied.

He saw over Lily’s shoulder that Severus Snape, who was on her other side, was grinning in amusement at Lily’s obvious dislike for James. He expected Lily to turn and grin back at him, but instead she kept her eyes turned straight ahead.

Had Severus done something to upset her? James wondered.

The lesson went on basically the same for some time. Peter struggling, Lily and James exchanging glares and eye rolls, and every time James did something particularly good the others in the stands cheered or shouted comments like ‘good one Potter’. James was feeling particularly good about himself by the time the sky was starting to turn to dusk and the lesson was nearly over. Madam Hooch finally blew her whistle and shouted it was time for them all to put up their brooms for the night and head up to the Great Hall for supper.

Then Derek Bell jumped the stands and rushed across the pitch.

“Madam Hooch,” he called, “I know it’s time to go but, uh, would it be possible…” he held up a blue Dooble’s Best Blowing Gum ball, his eyes moving to James.

Madam Hooch looked at the tiny blue gum ball, then back at James, too, and it was obvious she was torn between wanting to be professional and wanting to see James catch the gum ball as badly as Derek Bell and all the others in the stands did. She hesitated, then said, “Well, I suppose just once…”

“Alright!” Sirius cheered, pumping the air with his fist. “Go on James!” he grinned, slapping his best friend on the back joyfully.

James felt his stomach roll over several times and he took a deep breath. He grabbed onto the broom’s handle and climbed onto it, on his tip toes again, every muscle tingling. “You ready, Potter?” Derek asked. He nodded and Derek chucked the gumball hard as he could. It soard much further away than the one Sirius had tossed the week before, but James just put on some extra speed, crossing the length of the pitch effortlessly, leaning forward over the handle of the broom severely, his hair streaming straight back from the wind. He stretched out his hand and pulled up on the broom handle to give himself a curved trajectory, his eyes following the blue of the ball as he moved beneath it until the point of intersection came suddenly into view and he yanked up, hard, and he stretched his hand wide… The moment he felt the gumball hit his palm, he heard them all begin shouting, screaming, clapping, beating the wood stands with their hands and feet.

He’d done it.

“Jumping gargoyles!” laughed Derek, “I never -- I didn’t really -- Wow! Very impressive, Potter!” He was grinning ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling. “I mean -- and it was blue, too!” The Gryffindors were all hooting and hollering with excitement. Even Alice and Lily were looking wide-eyed at the end of the pitch. The Slytherins were scowling - but none as hard as Severus Snape was, who was staring at Lily Evans’s impressed expression with a loathing sort of hatred darkening his pale face.

Derek flung his arm over James’s shoulders as he landed and grinned as he pulled him in for a side-hug. “Bloody brilliant, that’s what you are,” he said. “C’mon, come with me, we’ve got to talk to McGonagall about maybe breaking a few school rules!”

James felt his heart leap up into his throat as Derek pulled him along away from the pitch and up the grounds to the school, still carrying the crummy school broom, followed closely by the rest of the Gryffindor team. James felt as though he were being heralded by a parade or something, like he was some sort of big hero.

“We’re sure to win the House Cup if you’re on the team,” said an excited third year, Bradley Macmillion.

Derek marched James right through the entrance hall and up the staircase to the corridors above, leading him along until they’d come to the Transfiguration wing of the castle, where he found Professor McGonagall’s office and knocked excitedly. “As head of Gryffindor house, McGonagall’s gotta be the one to approve you being on the team as a first year,” explained Derek as he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Come in,” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang sharply from within, her accent ringing through the words. Derek pushed the door opened and dragged James inside, leaving the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team - plus Sirius, Remus, and Peter Pettigrew - outside. McGonagall had her glasses perched on the tip of her nose, stacks of parchments spread across her desk. She looked up over the frame of the glasses as the boys walked in. “And to what do I owe this pleasure, Bell - Potter?” she asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Professor,” began Derek, “I’ve just been down to the pitch, watching the first years flying practice - surely you’ve heard about the gumball Potter caught last week?”

McGonagall nodded, tight-lipped, “I seem to have heard about it, yes, the whole school was talking of nothing else. What does that have to do with you being in my office?” she asked.

“Well see, I didn’t really believe he could’ve done it,” Derek said, “So I went out to watch the practice today and I brought along a blue Drooble’s, just to see… and… well -- Blimey, Professor, he really can catch it. Clear across the pitch, ma’am.” He stared at her, wide eyed, “A gumball is much smaller than a snitch is all.”

Professor McGonagall stared across the table and slowly took the glasses off her nose. “Mr. Bell,” she said, “What exactly are you getting at?”

“Only that Gryffindor needs a new Seeker, Professor, and --” he gestured at James.

She folded the frames. “I understand Gryffindor’s need,” she said slowly, “But… the school has a strict rule against First Years playing Quidditch. There’s too many of them that just don’t know how to fly properly and --”

“But James has proven he can,” interrupted Derek.

“But if we bend the rules for one, we must bend the rules for all of them,” McGonagall replied. She shook her head and then picked the glasses back up and put them back on. “I’m sure you understand. One more year, Potter, then you can try out to be on the Quidditch team.”

James felt his excitement deflate.

“But Professor!” cried Derek, “See reason! We’ve got to win this year! We just’ve got to!”

“So train hard, Mr. Bell,” Professor McGonagall replied, “But I cannot permit a first year permission to be joining the Quidditch team.”

Derek was hopping when they left the office a moment later. “Bloody hell,” he complained. “Slughorn wouldn’t have hesitated a moment if you were in his house. He’d do whatever it took to win the house cup.” He scowled a moment, then sighed and lightened up a bit, “Not that I’m willing to play as dirty as Slytherins are,” he added.

James sighed, “Well, maybe I could come watch the training anyway?” he suggested hopefully, “Maybe me and my friends could? Then we’re familiar with the team and how things are run for next term?” He stared up at Derek pleadingly.

Derek shrugged, “Sure why not. Maybe we can even sneak you on a broom some times and you could… you know… play along sometimes.”

“That’d be amazing!” James exclaimed.

The other Gryffindors were waiting at the end of the corridor for the verdict of James and Derek’s visit to Professor McGonagall’s office. When Derek shook their head there was a general murmuring of disapproval and disappointment. “Next year, Potter,” said Bradley Macmillion, “Next year.”

Moony

“You know what this place needs is a bloody map!” exclaimed Sirius.

It was Monday, and they were lost trying to find their way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Remus had no idea as he’d never been, having been “ill” the week before, and none of the other boys seemed to have a clue where they’d gone. They’d just followed Lily before.

“A map would be spiffing about now,” James agreed, looking agitatedly up and down the corridor. “Blimey, they all look the same, don’t they?” he asked.

“I think we’ve seen that portrait before,” said Remus, pointing at a small square on the wall featuring a knight with a fat pony. The knight had just been thrown from his steed and he was trying to climb back on but kept getting his armor stuck in the horse’s saddle footholds.

Peter looked up at it, “Yeah. Sir Cadogan.”

“Sir Cadogan the Lame,” muttered Sirius. “Oi! Seriously!” They’d just rounded a corner and found themselves at the mouth of the stairs that led down to the entrance hall again. They’d been back to this point several times.

James looked at his watch. “We’re quite late.”

Remus frowned. “I’m never going to learn any defensive theory at this rate.”

“There you are!” The boys turned around to find Professor Tutman coming up behind them, Lily Evans in tow, carrying a box under one arm. “We’ve been looking for you,” he said jovially.

“We’ve been looking for you, too,” James said.

Professor Tutman waved them along, “Our class is outside today,” he said, leading the way.

The boys charged down the stairs with Professor Tutman and Lily, across the entrance hall and out onto the grounds. It was a crisp early autumn day, one that promised a cold winter ahead. Lily pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and Sirius rubbed his palms together. Professor Tutman led them all down to the lake where there was a big oak tree and they set themselves down under it on the grass and Professor Tutman set the trunk he’d been carrying down on the ground.

“The reason I’ve brought you out here is so that I can show you some of the dark magic detectors I’ve got that simply won’t work in such close quarters of the other students within the castle,” he said. He reached into the trunk and pulled out a bunch of shiny instruments, some of which Remus recognized from having seen them before in Dumbledore’s office. Professor Tutman set them up on the trunk for them to see. There was a great big silver thing that looked like a top that seemed to levitate on its spindle, a mirror, a set of scales, and a couple other odd shaped things that James was keen to crane his neck to see from where he sat slightly behind Peter Pettigrew who had combed his ashy blonde hair upwards that morning, trying to make it look messier, like James, but had only succeeded in making it bushier.

Once all the instruments were laid out on the trunk, Professor Tutman waved his wand to activate them and they started to move and flash. The top-like thing spun, blurring with it’s wobbling speed, and the mirror fogged up with shadowy figures while another thing that looked like a long rectangular box with lights on it blinked madly. “Well, either we are not far enough from the school as I had thought or else someone here has a very dark secret,” Tutman said, looking around at them.

Remus furrowed his brows, trying to look as concerned as the others, but under his Hogwarts robes he felt very hot indeed. Were Professor Tutman’s tools sensing that he was a werewolf?

“Well blimey everybody’s got a secret!” Sirius said with indignation.

Professor Tutman chuckled, “Perhaps. But these are special tools and won’t pick up on things like shirking off homework to play gobstones. They are tools used by aurors at the Ministry of Magic.”

Most of the first years looked deeply impressed.

Lily raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss. Evans?” Professor Tutman asked, looking at her with amusement because she’d bothered to raise her hand at all in such a small class. The boys always just spoke out of turn.

“What is an auror?” Lily asked.

“You don’t even know what an auror is?” Sirius asked, incredulous.

“Excuse me for being muggle born,” snapped Lily, turning to look at him, “Does it bother you?”

Sirius looked surprised at the heat in her words. “No,” he said, “Not even a bit.”

She glowered at him anyway, then turned back to Professor Tutman, who was frowning at them both for the outbursts. “Sorry, Professor,” Lily said.

“Yeah, sorry Professor,” Sirius muttered, too, not to be outdone.

“No worries,” Professor Tutman replied. He cleared his throat, “Now… as we were saying… Lily, aurors are sort of like a muggle police investigator, except for the wizarding world. They’re dark wizard catchers. They go out and arrest and testify against known doers of evil and they guard the wizarding prison, Azkaban, along with the help of some of the most fearsome creatures imaginable… the Dementors.”

“Dementors?” Sirius asked.

“Don’t know everything then, do you?” Lily hissed.

Professor Tutman cleared his throat. Lily looked abashed. “Dementors are creatures which feed off people’s happiness, they suck the joy out of everything… When a dementor is near and feeding off of you, you feel as if you’ll never feel happiness again. Ever.” Tutman looked around at them. “You feel as if your entire world has gone black, all the colors have gone. They’re mighty dark creatures, dementors, and they have no allegiance, no loyalty. They’ll go wherever they can feed the most. They are most useful as guards at the wizarding prison for they keep the prisoners feeling so dismal that they lose the will to fight. Some go insane or die from depression within those walls. Particularly nasty inmates will suffer the dementor’s kiss, which is much like a muggle death penalty. A dementor’s kiss means they’ve sucked out your soul and you’re worse than dead.”

They were all wide-eyed, staring up at Tutman.

“This,” Tutman said, turning to his silver instruments, “Is a sneakoscope. When it spins, it is detecting the presence of a sneak - someone with a dark secret is around, usually that indicates an enemy but there are many forms of dark secrets, many reasons why one might keep them, and the sneakoscope cannot judge the difference between a good and an evil secret keeper, only that there are secrets being withheld.” The students all looked ‘round at each other, wondering who it could be that had a secret like that. Remus hoped that his stares had been convincing enough.

Professor Tutman turned next to the mirror, “This is a foe glass. In the glass, you see not your own reflection but the shadowy figures of your enemies - unless of course your worst enemy is yourself. I suppose there are some who peer into the foe glass and see themselves in perfect clarity. The closer one’s enemies are, the more clearly they can be seen in the reflection.”

“Wow, neat…” James said, leaning closer, his eyes wide. “This is cool. Can’t see anything, though.”

“Good thing, isn’t it?” Professor Tutman said, smiling, “Means you haven’t got any enemies around.”

Tutman went over the other instruments over the rest of their lesson, going on about the uses of them and the sorts of dark magic that they each detected. James kept glancing at the foe glass as a figure wove in and out of the shadows in the glass, a face nearly appearing but not quite becoming recognizable.

They walked back across the grounds to the castle, following along behind Professor Tutman. Lily Evans was talking to him about the instruments, chattering away and keeping Tutman distracted. Sirius looked around at the other boys. “I’ve been thinking. We should really do something about that map idea I had.”

“Do something?” Remus asked, “Like what?”

“Like make one,” Sirius said. “The three –“ he paused, seeing Peter’s hopeful stare, “—four of us.”

“How? We don’t know where anything’s at in the castle,” Remus pointed out.

“Like any real map makers do,” Sirius answered, “Exploring.”

“But we haven’t got time to explore,” Remus argued. “During the days we’ve got classes, the evenings we’ve got homework…”

“We could go at night,” James suggested.

“Brilliant,” Sirius chimed, grinning.

Remus shook his head, “We couldn’t go at night, that’d be against the rules. We aren’t supposed to be out of the dormitory at night.”

James grinned. “Rules were meant to be broken.”

Remus looked uncomfortable.

Sirius was grinning, too. “We could sneak off after everyone’s out of the common room. The only one we’d really need to watch out for much is Filch.”

“And Mrs. Norris,” Peter piped up.

“But what if we get caught?” Remus asked. He was thinking of how carefully Dumbledore had been to get him into the school. Could sneaking out of bed at night get him expelled?

Sirius smacked his hand to his forehead, “Detention! That’s right, too, I’ve got that ruddy detention today with Madam Hooch and Snivelley.”

“Sounds exciting,” James laughed.

“Very,” Sirius agreed. “But this is exactly the sort of situation that our map would come in bloody handy; I haven’t a clue where Madam Hooch’s office is.”

Lily

Severus was standing outside the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom when Lily stepped out after helping Professor Tutman put away the instruments. She paused in the doorway and stared at him a long moment, then sighed and pushed her way by him into the hallway. She was still angry from the way he’d acted the other morning, when she’d walked over to the Slytherin table. He followed after her now, his robes swishing at his ankles, just a little too short for his height because they’d been bought second hand. The sound of the fabric’s movement annoyed Lily more than it should have. But then, most anything about Severus Snape would have annoyed her at that moment.

“Lily,” he begged, “Wait a minute… c’mon, Lilly… Talking to me is the least you could do.”

She stopped at the end of the corridor and turned around to face him quickly, making him stop suddenly in his tracks to keep from running right into her. “Sev, I don’t understand why you’re acting like you’re the one that’s been wronged,” she said.

“Because you’ve been ignoring me,” he replied, pouty, “For days.”

“Because you acted like a prat when I went over to see you!” she cried. “I was worried about you and you told me to go away, acted like we weren’t friends, like you were annoyed by me.” Lily shook her head. “That’s not fair, Sev.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he really was. “Look, it’s hard, okay? I don’t expect you to understand it. Gryffindor is different than Slytherin is.”

“At least you aren’t all alone,” she said hotly. “I’m all by myself in Gryffindor, other than those stupid boys from the train. I tried to see you, my best friend, and you tell me off!”

“Because they don’t understand what we are, Lily,” Severus said under his breath. “None of the Slytherins get it.”

“Get what? What are we, Severus?” Lily demanded.

He felt his face flush and he hesitated. If she didn’t know… if she was asking him… He wondered if he was maybe imagining the entire thing altogether. Was he worrying about what everyone would think of him falling in love with a mudblood for nothing? Did she not feel the same way that he did, as though he had found his entire future? He looked at her with dark grey, nearly black, eyes. “Lily… aren’t we… aren’t we… you know… best friends?” he asked.

Lily took a deep breath, “Yes, we are. You know that.” She’d been afraid that he’d been about to suggest something more - something that she wasn’t sure about because it was something that she didn’t honestly feel.

“I just can’t explain that to the Slytherins,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” he hesitated, “Lily, look, the whole blood purity thing… I’ve tried to tell you about it, but… I don’t know; I don’t think I’ve explained it really well to you. Wizards are really funny about the blood status of the people around them, Lily. If someone doesn’t have pure blood they get real nutty about it. I told you my mum isn’t close to her family and it’s because she’s married a muggle.” Severus stared at her, imploring her to understand.

“What’s marrying a muggle got to do with it?” Lily asked.

“Well not married, obviously,” Severus said, feeling the heat rising in his neck. “Just, they notice things like that, like who others are hanging around with.”

“So you’re afraid of what people will say about you being friends with me because my parents are muggles?” she demanded. “Do you think I’m any worse off for being the daughter of a couple of muggles? Do you?”

Severus hesitated. The answer was yes, but he could tell by the way her tone of voice had been that what she wanted to hear was no. He didn’t know how to answer, torn between the truth and making her happy. He stared at her. “Lily, it’s hard. It’s not as easy as whether I think you’re worse off for it or not. I’m in a house where things like that matter – it’s not like that for Gryffindor. And it’s bad enough that I’m half-blood myself. They remind me every day that I’m not pure. Every day, Lily. They… they bully me about it.”

“So tell Dumbledore.”

“I can’t tell Dumbledore,” Severus said. “Don’t be ridiculous…”

“I’m not being ridiculous!” she cried. “I’m being reasonable! If they’re bullying you for your blood status –“

“Lily, it doesn’t work like that. You haven’t been a part of this world as long as I have, you don’t understand it!” Severus shouted angrily.

Lily’s fists were balled in frustration. “So what do you want to do then, Severus? If I’m not allowed to be your friend, then why are you even talking to me now?”

“You are my friend, Lily, I just – we need to be more… more discreet about it,” he answered.

Lily frowned. “So maybe we should only be friends back home, when you’re the good-for-nothing one, living down on Spinner’s End. Don’t forget, I stayed friends with you there, where everyone else thought you were no good. I didn’t give a damn about what they were saying!”

Severus looked hurt. “I – They were – Who said --?”

“Everybody,” Lily exaggerated. Really, it’d only been her sister and her friends who had said anything. Nobody else really knew much about Severus, other than Lily’s parents, who certainly had never said anything of the sort about him. Quite the opposite, Mrs. Evans had always been quite proud that Lily had befriended Severus and had sent along sandwiches and muggle treats in paper lunch sacks for Lily to share with ‘that poor boy from Sprinner’s End’.

Severus swallowed back a lump, realizing he was an outsider in both the magical and non-magical worlds for exactly opposite reasons, neither of which he could help. “Look, Lily, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry I was horrible to you, and I’ll think of something to make it so we can be friends here, okay? I’m sorry. Also… there’s… there’s something I need to talk to you about,” he added. “Something that’s bothering me and you’re the only one that will understand.”

Lily raised one eyebrow.

“I’ve been having funny dreams again,” he said quietly. He had told Lily once before about the dreams he had at home and she’d been worried about him because some of them had been quite alarming in nature, dark and brutal. He took a deep breath. “And… okay, well the other day I dreamt I was playing Quidditch and there was a dragon that attacked and –“

“You’re telling me about a stupid dream when you’ve just basically called me rubbish because of my blood? Seriously?” Lily demanded hotly.

“You’re not rubbish, I didn’t say that,” Severus argued.

“You may as well have,” Lily snapped.

“No, I was telling you how the Slytherins think,” he argued, “Not how I think.”

“Well why were you sorted to Slytherin if you don’t think that way at least a smidge?” she demanded.

Severus didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t know,” he said. Then, more slowly, “Perhaps there are… exceptions.”

Lily frowned.

“I think I’m going crazy, Lily,” Severus said. “With the dreams. I can’t sleep. That’s why I looked so tuckered the other day when you came over. I hadn’t slept. It’s why I was late to the flying practice – the only time I can sleep peacefully is when there’s nobody else in the dorm with me.” He looked about to be sure they were alone, then he lowered his voice, “I think I can see other people’s minds when I’m sleeping, Lily.”

As angry as she was, this last statement drew her in. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“When I sleep,” Severus explained quietly, “I think somehow other people’s dreams are ending up in my head somehow. I had that dream about the quidditch match and the dragon and I found out that Dimitri Goyle had the exact same dream.”

Lily whispered, “Is mind reading a real thing in the wizarding world?”

Severus shrugged, “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe you ought to talk to Dumbledore about that, then,” she suggested.

Severus shook his head. “I don’t know. What if he thinks I’m looney?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem like the sort that would think that,” Lily answered.

“I want to figure it out on my own first,” he replied. “I thought you might’ve read something about it, but I guess not.”

Lily shook her head, “I’ll let you know if I see something, though, Sev.”

“Alright, thanks,” he said. He sighed, “Look, I’ve got detention, so I’d better go. I just wanted to see you.”

Lily nodded. “Okay.”

“See you,” he said.

“Yeah, see you.”

Lily watched as Severus turned and walked off down the corridor. She chewed her lower lip nervously until he had turned the bend at the far end of the hall and she rushed back down the other end, headed for the Gryffindor common room to do her homework.

Padfoot

It took Sirius a ridiculous amount of time to find Madam Hooch’s office, which was why he was so surprised to find that Severus hadn’t arrived yet by the time he got there. “Well there’s one of you,” Madam Hooch said when she opened the door to find Sirius standing in the hall. “Once Mr. Snape has arrived, we shall go.”

“Go?” Sirius asked, confused. He’d thought they would be staying at the office for the duration of the detention, but before Madam Hooch could respond, Severus came rushing down the hall.

“And there’s the other!” she said. “You know, many of the other instructors at this school might give you a second detention for your tardiness!”

“Sorry,” panted Severus. He’d just run all the way from his meeting with Lily in the Defense corridor.

Madam Hooch huffed and pulled her office door shut behind her, locking it with a flick of her wand. “Come along, then, off we go.” She led the way down the hall to the entrance hall and out onto the grounds.

Sirius was surprised they were going out of doors. It was a nice day, the sunlight streaming down in great big, warm rays, shining off the lake and the leaves of the Whomping Willow. Across the grounds they could see the gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, out digging in his garden with a spade, wiping his brow with a gigantic kerchief as he took a pause and waved at them. “Mornin’,” he called out as they passed by.

“Good morning, Hagrid,” called Madam Hooch, but she didn’t pause to talk.

Madam Hooch led the pair of them into the equipment house by the quidditch pitch and opened up the broom cupboard. “These brooms,” she said, waving her hands around herself at the motley collection of school broom, “Have not been serviced in some time and are in desperate need of some attention. For the next two hours, the two of you shall consult the owners manuals of the brooms, which can be found there on that shelf in the corner, and trim the brooms’ twigs to standard length, polish and wax the handles, and hang them back on the walls in their proper places. You will find the servicing kits there on the bookshelf as well.” She eyed them beadily. “I will be in the very next room here, making out the gaming schedule for this term. I shall hear if you begin fighting and it will result in another detention if you do. I recommend working together in, at very least, a civil manner. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” both Sirius and Severus chorused together.

“Okay then. Let me know if you finish before the two hours are up,” she added, and she turned and disappeared into the next room.

Sirius and Severus exchanged a look. Finally, Sirius reached up and took down one of the old brooms and looked it over. Severus inched across the room and lifted a manual off the shelf. “What sort of broom is that?”

“This is a Comet 360,” Sirius replied.

Severus ran his finger along the spines of the books until he found the manual for the Comet and pulled it off the shelf. He carried it and the servicing kit over to where Sirius was sitting down on a bench, the broom laying across his lap. Severus dropped the kit beside him and opened it. “You wax it and I’ll trim it, I suppose,” he suggested.

Sirius shook his head, “I don’t need help servicing a broomstick. It’ll go twice as fast if you do your own brooms.”

Severus felt a flare of anger flash through him, but he shoved the kit at Sirius and got up to get the other one and the manual to another broom as Sirius flicked through the pages of the manual for the Comet 360, looking for the standard twig length for the Comet.

Neither one of them spoke to the other as they worked, the only sound in the broom cupboard being the swishing of their rags or the clicking of the scissors as they trimmed the twigs. Every once in a while one of them would get up to hang up their old broom and get a new one to work on, though Severus was definitely switching brooms more often than Sirius, who kept perusing through the manuals while he worked, reading about the broom specs and manufacturing information instead of staying focused on the task at hand. As he worked, he couldn’t help thinking about calling for the Black family house elf, Kreacher, to come do the work. But then Snape might pitch a fit, he thought, glancing over at Severus. He was too poor to have a house elf and he could just see Severus tattling to Madam Hooch if Kreacher appeared, and that would probably just land him even more detention time. So he slowly did it himself.

His mind wandered as he sat there, trimming broom after broom, and he thought about his idea for the map of Hogwarts. It really was a brilliant idea, he thought, and it would be a great thing for the four first years to work on together. Maybe they could even sell the maps to other students and make some extra galleons to spend. He imagined the four of them making millions and being able to send an owl to the Quality Quidditch Supply in Diagon Alley and order themselves each a top-of-the-line broom, like the one James had back home, and all become stars of the quidditch team next term.

Sirius was grinning stupidly as he thought about the glory of being the best damn keeper Gryffindor ever saw when Severus’s low voice cut through his day dream, “Is that the last one?” he asked.

Sirius blinked out of his reverie and looked around, “I guess it is,” he answered with a nod, clipping the last of the twigs.

“I’ll go tell Madam Hooch,” Severus said and he turned away.

“Whatever you want, Snivellus,” Sirius answered, and he hung the broom back up on the wall.

Severus balled his fists and gritted his teeth. “Stop calling me that, will you?” he hissed.

Sirius grinned. “I will once you stop being so snivelley.”

“I’m not snivelley,” Severus snapped.

Sirius shrugged. “Go on and tell Madam Hooch we’re done then.”

With a sigh of exasperation, Severus turned around and stormed into the room where Madam Hooch was working on the schedule. Sirius looked around the room and spotted the lockers off the side and he glanced at the door Severus had gone through and snuck over to the lockers. It was the Slytherin team’s locker room they were next to and he ducked in, looking around at the emerald and silver hangings on the wall and the snake mascot head in one corner. Green and silver robes hung up all around the room on pegs. Then he spotted a small wood box, like a little suitcase, leaning against one wall and curiosity got the best of him.

He glanced back through the door to the broom cupboard once to make sure Madam Hooch and Severus weren’t there already, and knelt down in front of the little box, tipping it onto the floor and opening it up. Inside he found a whole bunch of quidditch balls – a great big quaffle, a couple bludgers, and a tiny snitch. He reached out a shaking hand and took hold of the snitch, releasing it from the little compartment it was held in and looked it over. The tiny gold ball looked so innocuous. He grinned and shoved it into his pocket, picturing how excited James would be if they could practice catching an actual, real snitch in the common room.

He heard the footsteps of Severus and Madam Hooch and quickly slammed the case shut again, leaning it back up against the wall with haste, and rushed back to the broom cupboard just as they returned from the other room. Though Madam Hooch didn’t notice, Severus gave Sirius a look that clearly said he knew that Sirius had been up to no good. Sirius tried to catch his breath quietly.

“These brooms look very nice, you boys did a very good job servicing them,” Madam Hooch declared. She glanced at her watch. “And that was near enough to the two hours for your detention, you can go back up to the castle for supper now. No more fighting you two!”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said again in chorus, and before she could change her mind they both ran off out of the pitch.

Severus looked over at Sirius as they ran. “What were you doing before we came back?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Sirius replied.

“I saw you come back out of that locker room.”

“I was just looking in there is all.”

“Then why did you look so panicked about it?” Severus demanded.

Sirius scoffed, “I didn’t look panicked. I was just looking – there’s nothing to be looking panicked about.”

Severus didn’t look like he believed Sirius, but he didn’t pry any further and when the boys got to the castle and stepped into the Great Hall, they split up and each went their separate ways. Sirius joined the other first years at the Gryffindor table, where they were just starting supper, and threw himself down onto the bench next to James.

“Well hello there,” James said. He gave a great theatrical sniff, “You don’t smell too horrible, so I guess his greasy hair didn’t touch you.” He paused then said, “But you do smell like broom wax. Were you servicing the brooms, then?”

“Good nose,” Sirius laughed. “That’s exactly what we were doing. Trimmed about a hundred brooms myself while ol’ Snivelley sat about and read the manuals.”

“What a great prat, making you do all the work,” James scoffed, shaking his head.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Sirius added under his breath.

“Do you? What is it?” James looked excited, eyes sparkling with eagerness.

“You’ll see,” Sirius said, “In the common room.”

Severus

Although Severus didn’t know what Sirius Black had been up to in that Slytherin locker room, he knew one thing for certain – there’d definitely been a look of no good about him when he’d come back out. Whatever he’d been getting into, Sirius hadn’t wanted Madam Hooch to know about it, which made Severus feel very, very suspicious indeed. If Sirius Black had been stepping out of line, then Severus needed to know about it so that he had something to use against Sirius next time he bullied him. So Severus decided right then, as the boys split up in the Great Hall and he watched Sirius trot away with a swagger almost as arrogant as James Potter’s, that he would be watching the four Gryffindor first years very carefully. Anything and everything that he noticed about them would be used as defense against them when they tried to torture him in the future.

If it was one thing that Severus was very skilled at – it was the art of blackmail. After all, he had grown up with the two best at the craft – his mother and father. Eileen and Tobias had been very carefully blackmailing each other day in and day out for as long as Severus could remember. Neither Tobias nor Eileen had loved the other in years, but they stayed together for a spiderweb of secrets and lies that had twined itself so deeply that neither could easily separate from the other without falling apart. Severus’s entire life had been like living in a house of cards.

But it had made him a master at facades, at straight faces and double meanings – it was a talent that he lauded quite proudly.

That night, Sirius laid awake in the dormitory bed, staring up at the ceiling of his four poster, listening to the sleeping sounds that surrounded him. A snuffle here, a kicked blanket there. He took a deep breath, wishing that he dared to fall asleep. The worry of having another of those crazy mixed dreams unnerved him now that he suspected they were other peoples’ dreams, though, and even if he closed his eyes all he could do is lay there and worry.

Finally he decided that laying in the darkness was doing him no good, so he got up and shrugged on his pajama robe and some slippers and snuck out of the dormitory, being very careful about closing the door behind himself silently. He’d only planned to go down to the common room to read, but when he emerged onto the landing before the doors that led up to the dormitories, he halted and crouched down.

In the common room was Lucius Malfoy and a couple others, including the elder of the Mulciber brothers and Walden McNair. They were gathered together in front of the fire and in the smoldering ashes there was a face – a face unlike any that Severus had ever seen before. The features were that of a handsome man, but the details were starting to blur together until what had once probably been a good looking face was now rather like a grotesque figure. He felt his throat tighten up and he clutched the rails of the stairwell, peering down with wide eyes.

He’d seen folks communicate with the floo network before, but there was something obscene and clandestine about the scene before Severus that made him feel funny – as though he were seeing something he shouldn’t.

“Master,” Lucius Malfoy was saying, bowed so low on the carpet that his nose nearly touched it.

The other two bowed as well.

“Tell me Lucius,” said a low, mystic sort of voice, “How did your little meeting go with the Slytherin students of Hogwarts?”

Lucius appeared to be groveling. “Very well, master, very well indeed. Nearly half the house turned out… all interested in helping you purify the wizarding race.”

“I see…” the voice mused. Severus realized, the way Lucius kept saying ‘master’ that this weary face in the fire must have been none other than the Dark Lord himself. A sort of thrill travelled up Severus Snape’s spine as he thought of how close he was to such power at that very moment… and how excited he was that he was able to sneak so close without being detected by one of the most powerful wizards that had ever lived and breathed upon the earth. “And do you think any are trustworthy, Mr. Malfoy?”

Lucius nodded feverishly, “Oh yes, my Lord, several of them are quite trustworthy, I’m sure.”

“Hmm,” mused the Dark Lord.

Severus clutched the stairwell, his heart seeming to pound in his throat.

“The boy on the stairs… Is he one of the trustworthy ones?”

Lucius’s eyes flashed through the dark to Severus on the landing. Severus scrambled to get away as Malfoy seemed to lunge for him in a motion that Severus had only previously seen on muggle television when they’d watched documentaries about African wild cats attacking their prey. Mulciber and MacNair looked quite alarmed, too, and the fiery figure of the Dark Lord there in the hearth seemed amused. Malfoy caught Severus by his arm and slammed him into the wall. “What in bloody hell are you doing?” he hissed into Severus’s face.

“I just was going to the common room,” Severus stammered.

“How long have you been standing here?” Lucius demanded, eyes blazing.

Severus shook his head and tried to tug away, “Not very long.”

“Bring him down the stairs,” came the voice from the fire.

“Now you’re in trouble,” Malfoy swore under his breath and pulled Severus along after him, his fists balled up around Severus’s robes. “Come along.” He yanked him down the stairs to the hearth and threw him down there, upon a great fluffy bear rug with its head still attached at one end. Severus laid there in front of the dying fire through which the Dark Lord was appearing. He could feel the beady eyes upon him, appraising him. “I’m sorry, my Lord, he snuck out onto the landing – I didn’t see – I’d checked –“ Malfoy was simpering.

“Silence,” hissed the Dark Lord.

Severus chanced a peek at that face. He’d expected a sour, nasty face once he’d gotten closer. He had expected the Dark Lord to be sneering at him with displeasure. But instead when he looked up, the face in the fire seemed to be chuckling. Severus froze. Somehow the amusement was even more terrifying than the sneer would have been.

“You’re a most interesting young man,” he said.

Severus cleared his throat, “Am I?” he asked.

“Don’t you disrespect the Dark Lord,” hissed Malfoy.

“Am I… sir?” Severus amended.

The face was still grinning up at him. “Indeed,” he confirmed. “Severus Snape, you are most interesting indeed!” There was a pause. “Tell me, Mr. Snape, how long have you been studying Occlumency?”

Severus blinked uncomprehendingly at the fire. “Occlumency?”

“Yes,” hissed the Dark Lord, “You are a most skilled Occlumens… You see, I am a very powerful Legilimens and to be able to withstand my… attacks, if you will… even through the Floo… Well, you must be quite good.”

Severus could feel every eye upon him. He cleared his throat, “I – I’m not the best,” he stammered. “I’m sure there are others much better than I am.” He would have to look up Occulens and Legilimens in the library. Whatever it was, if he was any good at it then it was a natural talent, for he’d never heard the terms before in his life. Whatever it was, too, seemed to interest the Dark Lord, and therefore was a trait he needed to pretend to be quite aware of.

“Tell me, boy,” the Dark Lord said lowly, “Were you among the trustworthy members of the Slytherin house that attended Lucius Malfoy’s recruitment meeting?”

“Y- yes,” Severus nodded.

“He’s my cousin, my Lord,” Lucius Malfoy spoke up, leaning forward, “And the cousin of Narcissa Black.”

The Dark Lord eyed Severus. “And are you pure, boy?” hissed the Dark Lord.

Severus swallowed and answered the only way he ever had when facing that question: “I am a half-blood Prince, sir,” he said thickly.

“Half blood Prince!” The Dark Lord appeared even more amused. “Very well. The Half-blood Prince, you shall be. This is your first year at Hogwarts?” he asked.

Severus nodded.

“Welcome, then,” he said, as though Hogwarts were his to welcome Severus to. “May this place be as great a home to you as it was to me during my time here.” The Dark Lord’s voice dipped with reverence. “Now… go back to bed, Severus Snape. For now, you are too young for the things which I have planned, but one day I shall be in touch to test you for entry into the ranks of the Death Eaters.”

“Thank you sir,” stammered Severus, unsure what else to say.

“Go on,” hissed Malfoy thickly behind him as Severus lingered dumbly before the fire. “Go to bed.”

Severus nodded and rushed off to the dormitory, careful not to look behind him to see if the Dark Lord had taken his eyes off of his back. He had the distinct feeling that he was still the center of attention. He locked the dormitory door behind him and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher, his heart racing. Finally, he obeyed the Dark Lord’s commands and laid himself down on the mattress of the four poster and closed his eyes.

Even a troubled, mixed-up sort of sleep would be better than lying awake, imagining he could still hear the voice in his mind, with the smirking, amused expression upon his face…

Prongs

After returning from the detention, James and Sirius had eaten their supper quickest of all the Gryffindor students and rushed off to the tower so that Sirius could reveal his surprise to James. When they reached the dormitory, Sirius pulled the snitch from his pocket with a flourish. James’s eyes widened with excitement. “A real snitch!” he cried, excitedly, and Sirius dropped the little golden ball into James’s hand, grinning. “Wow, it’s heavier than I imagined,” he said, running his fingers around the little ball and weighing it carefully with his palm. It felt comfortably at home. As he stared at it, the little ball unfurled its wings and fluttered against his fingers. “Where did you get this?” he asked, looking up.

“I found it in the locker rooms,” Sirius said, quite proud of himself.

“Isn’t that sort of stealing?” James questioned, nervously.

“They’ve got loads of snitches, I’m sure just one won’t be missed. Plus it’s not like I’ve really stolen it, have I? It’s still on school property.”

James nodded, eager to accept any excuse at all that would allow them to keep the little winged ball. He grinned up at Sirius. “By next term, when we can really try out we’re going to be practically bloody professionals!” he looked around and quickly backed across the room to be opposite of Sirius and tossed the little winged ball across to him.

Sirius reached up and snatched at it, but it zoomed off with its little wings humming, zipping about the dormitory. “Quick, get it!” Sirius laughed, jumping up onto his bed.

James jumped up onto his own, then across the gap to Remus’s, leaping onto Remus’s heavy trunk and waving his arms about over his head desperately as the snitch zoomed by. “Blimey, they’re faster than I imagined, too,” James commented.

“I got it!” Sirius cried – but he hadn’t. He landed with a heavy thump onto Peter Pettigrew’s bed and tumbled off the other side.

James laughed as Sirius’s legs kicked up over the side of the bed, “You could go pro with moves like that.”

“And so could you,” Sirius replied, rubbing his buttocks as he laughed back at James, who was straddling his and Remus’s beds, his arms flailing about in the air.

When Remus and Peter came back into the dormitory nearly an hour later, Remus frowned at the mess of jumbled pillows and paper airplanes that the boys had been chucking about trying to knock the snitch from the air.

“What have you two been up to?” he asked, jaw-dropped, “This mess!”

“Sirius got us a snitch,” James offered with a grunt as he hurtled himself off Remus’s bed and onto his own.

“James hasn’t caught it yet,” said Sirius from the bed. He’d given up some time ago and just let James jump from bed to bed trying to capture it himself.

“There’s obviously something wrong with it,” said James sourly, whose level of amusement at the snitch had been steadily dropping the longer it took to capture the thing as it zoomed about. “As though it’s repelled by us, or something.” He frowned. “Where’d it go now?” He looked around.

Peter Pettigrew held up his palm. He had the snitch, which was laying calmly in his hand, its wings barely fluttering, as though it had been tamed. All three of the other boys looked surprised. Sirius was sitting up, having flung a copy of James’s quidditch magazine aside. “How in the bloody hell did you do that?” he demanded of Peter.

Peter Pettigrew shrugged, “It flew over and I just sort of caught it. Wasn’t too hard, really, it was as though it wanted me to catch it.” He stared at the little gold ball in his palm. “Maybe it was tired.”

Sirius’s brows stitched together and he looked at James with concern.

James glowered, “Like I said, obviously there’s something wrong with it if Peter can catch it before I can.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Remus stared at the door, then turned to look at little red-faced Peter and the still dumbfounded Sirius. “Sore loser, isn’t he?” Remus commented.

“I guess so,” Sirius said.

Peter locked the snitch into the drawer of his nightstand upon Sirius’s suggestion, though the snitch didn’t show even the slightest interest in attempting an escape. It lay serenely in Peter’s palm and seemed more agitated once it was in the drawer than it had at being held his captive.



James Potter wasn’t sure why he was so angry that Peter had caught the snitch before him, he just knew that it felt just as badly as if he’d been cut in the stomach. He walked quietly through the corridors of Hogwarts, taking deep breaths and staring up at the paintings that lined the walls. He felt badly that he’d been so nasty to Peter. It wasn’t Peter’s fault, after all, that the ball had proven harder to catch than James had expected snitches to be. He felt like a horrible person for having reacted the way that he had. He’d have to say sorry. But he wanted to cool off first.

Wandering through the castle was calming and he soon felt better. He paused in the corridor he stood in and looked around, hoping to spot some familiar painting or something, but this was a part of the castle he’d never visited before. He turned back and started walking on the way he’d come, but he’d been so deep in thought about snitches and Peter Pettigrew that he hadn’t paid attention to much of anything he had passed by on the way.

Sirius was right, he thought, a map of Hogwarts would come in very handy indeed.

He’d been wandering for some time when he heard the echo of footsteps along the hall before him and the sound of Mr. Filch speaking in a low, coddling voice to his cat, Mrs. Norris. “Yes, my love, I hear the little sneaks,” sing-songed Filch. “It’ll be detention for ‘em if I catch ‘em…” He cackled.

James didn’t want detention. He glanced around and spotted a door and, expecting it to be an empty classroom, flung himself inside it, pulling it closed silently behind him. When he turned around, he found not a classroom, as he had expected, but another long corridor. Afraid that Filch would look in here, he pelted down the corridor and took a left because that was the direction he’d been going before, and rushed along past large suits of armor that turned their heads to watch him go before returning to their original positions.

At the end of that corridor, James was panting to catch his breath, but fairly confident that Mr. Filch would no longer be a threat, and he slowed down, putting his hands to his knees to breathe deeply for a moment and regain his bearings. He knew he’d run up at least one flight of steps since he had fled from filch, and he was pretty sure he’d been on the fifth floor before, so that would put him on the sixth now… But in what part of the castle? Maybe, he thought, it would have been easier if he’d just let Filch catch him. At least then he could’ve been shown how to get back to Gryffindor tower.

He heard voices in the hall behind him and, afraid that it was Filch again, he ducked through another door, which really was a classroom this time, and he pulled the door just to close so he could hear when the bearers of the voices had passed by. As they neared, he recognized Professor Tutman and the headmaster, Dumbledore, just outside in the hallway.

“If only the dark detectors could tell us where in the castle --“ Tutman sighed with frustration.

“I do not think that Tom would be so foolish as to attempt to physically enter the castle so long as I am here,” Dumbledore was saying lowly, “I have managed to instill some level of fear over the years... Or so I am told.”

Tutman asked, “Perhaps we should monitor the Floo network?”

Dumbledore’s voice was fading down the corridor as they passed and walked on, “Perhaps that would be wise, indeed, Professor Tutman.”

James waited until he couldn’t hear them at all any longer, and snuck into the corridor and rushed back the opposite direction from where they’d gone. They must’ve been coming from Tutman’s office because it took James only a few moments later to discover he was in the corridor that the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was in, and he knew his way back to the Gryffindor dormitories from there. He scurried through the castle, listening carefully for Filch, Mrs. Norris, or any other members of staff that might be in the halls until he finally found the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Gillyweed,” he called to her quietly and she swung open without comment, giving a wide yawn as she stretched her limbs and shifted in her painted chair.

“There you are,” Sirius was the only one still awake. He was laying on the rug by the fire in the common room, a piece of parchment in front of him, chewing on the end of a sugar quill as he stared at the stuff he’d written. “Thought you might’ve been caught by Filch,” Sirius explained.

“Nearly was,” replied James. He dropped down to the rug beside Sirius. “Your idea for a map is a brilliant one, by the way.”

Sirius grinned. “Yeah?”

“I think we should work on it. All of us. We’ll make a million galleons from the first years every year if we market it!” James laughed, “I would’ve gladly paid my entire years’ allowance on one while I was down in the Dark Arts corridor.”

“Bloody hell, you did go for a jaunt didn’t you?” Sirius laughed.

James nodded. “Oh and I heard Dumbledore and Tutman talking, too,” he added, and he told Sirius about the bit of conversation that he’d overheard from the two Professors while he was hiding. Sirius’s eyebrows had shot up onto his forehead.

“So they think there’s some dark wizard trying to break into the school?” he asked, awed.

“Apparently so,” James said.

“You know, I do remember at the platform at King’s Cross, Mother said something to my Father about how she wished she’d signed me and Regulus up for Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. Durmstrang’s the one in Bulgaria, you know, and they’re known for their Dark Arts teaching, which my parents are all for, of course, being Blacks, and my Father said that no, the Dark Lord had plans for Hogwarts. I wonder if that’s what’s happening?”

James looked worried. “Maybe,” he breathed. “Whoa.” He bit on his lower lip nervously, “Sirius, do you think we ought to tell Dumbledore what your father’s said about the Dark Lord?”

“Maybe.” Sirius rubbed his chin, “But it’s really not a lot to tell him about right now. Maybe on the holidays I can try and find out more about it and then we can tell him when we get back. That way when we tell him it’s really something substantial, you know?”

James nodded, “Good idea.”

“Besides, for now it sounds like Tutman’s got it under control,” Sirius pointed out. “And you said Dumbledore said that whoever it is won’t be barging in so long as he’s here, and Dumbledore’s not going anywhere. Don’t reckon the headmaster’s going to take a vacation during term, do you?”

James shook his head.

“And we have way more pressing matters to attend to,” Sirius added eagerly, flipping over the parchment he’d been writing on. “Our map!”

Moony

It wasn’t much of a challenge for James to get Peter Pettigrew to accept an apology for his insults. It took all of a minute for the four Gryffindor first year boys to be back to normal the day after the mysterious incident with the snitch, though James continued to insist there was something funny about the way the snitch had behaved while the others maintained that there wasn’t anything wrong with the snitch, only with James’s ego.

Their bigger concern was beginning to work on the map, which James and Sirius presented in a much more serious tone once the boys were back on speaking terms again. Sirius suggested that they work together during free periods in walking about the castle one level at a time and marking down all the different turns and corridors that they encountered. What they hadn’t counted on was the abundance of time that walking the entire floor plan of the castle would take. They spent hours the first day and hadn’t even covered the full of the first floor before having to give it up to go to supper in the Great Hall.

“Blimey,” James had muttered as they’d settled onto the benches along the Gryffindor table, “At this rate we’ll be finished our seventh year before we complete the map.”

“Too bad we couldn’t go out at night,” Sirius commented, “Would make it a lot easier to get things done without constantly being interrupted by everybody.” It was true that they’d been stopped several times as they passed by elder Gryffindor students that wanted to say hi to James, who was still a bit of a celebrity thanks to his gumball catching stunts on the pitch.

“We’d be caught and thrown into detention by Filch,” Remus said. “I don’t know about you lot but I don’t want to serve a detention with Filch. Merlin knows what he’d be having us do for it!”

“Neither do I,” Peter piped up.

“Scrubbing the toilets, most likely,” Sirius murmured darkly, ignoring Peter altogether.

James frowned, “Too bad there wasn’t a way to go at it without being seen.”

“You’d have to be invisible,” Sirius said.

Remus laughed, “Good luck casting the charm for that mate, you’re still working on getting the hang of wingardium leviosa, aren’t you?”

“Wingardium leviosa!” Sirius said, flicking his wand at Remus’s pork chop, which twitched slightly but didn’t levitate.

“Good try, at least,” Peter said.

The next day was much of the same – classes, classes, mapping the castle, eating, homework, eating… And the day after was, too. It was lunch on Thursday, just before the Gryffindor-Slytherin flying lesson that anything even remotely exciting happened.

The boys were sitting at the table, eating sandwiches and crisps and laughing about the look on Professor McGonagall’s face when she had realized that Peter had successfully transfigured a match stick into a pencil, only to discover that the pencil’s erasers were more flammable than they should have been when they lit up on fire, unprovoked. She’d nearly gone cross-eyed with shock, an expression that James was animatedly enacting for the others with a certain theatrical flair that none of them particularly recalled McGonagall herself having had. Suddenly there was a grunting sort of cough behind them and all four turned to look at the oversized potions master, Horace Slughorn, staring down at them.

Well, specifically at Remus.

“Good afternoon, good afternoon!” Slughorn said, smiling brightly. He touched a palm to Remus’s shoulder. “Mr. Lupin, am I correct in assuming that you are Lyall Lupin’s son?” he asked.

“Um… very, sir,” Remus answered blankly. “Why?”

“My stars, boy,” Professor Slughorn replied. “Your father is famous isn’t he? For having signed the Werewolf Restriction Act.”

“Wrote it, more like,” muttered Sirius.

Remus nodded, “Yes, sir, that was my dad.”

Slughorn’s face split wide with a toothy grin. “My boy!” he cried, chortling, “I don’t know how I’ve forgotten to invite you along to a little get-together I am hosting this evening…”

“A party?” Sirius’s face lit up at the words.

“I’m sorry, Clifford, I’m afraid it’s only certain students who are invited, you understand, very exclusive…” Slughorn said.

“Sirius,” Remus corrected him.

“Yes, my boy, I am most serious!” Slughorn misunderstood, returning at Remus once more. “Most serious indeed. Come by my office this evening, after your flying lesson. We’ll have food and drink at the party, of course. I’ll see you there!” And before Remus could turn down the invitation, Professor Slughorn had hobbled away, rubbing his thumb over his pocket watch once more.

“Ugh,” complained Remus, turning around.

“What’ve you to complain about?” Sirius demanded, “You got invited, didn’t you?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve got to complain about!” Remus answered. Down the table, Lily Evans was watching the whole thing unfold with a scowl, but she looked away the moment she and Remus made eye contact over the bowl of dill flavored crisps.

After another flying lesson before an audience, the boys parted ways in the entrance hall, where James, Sirius and Peter went on into the Great Hall for supper and another round of quidditch talk with the Gryffindor team and Remus took a deep breath and went for the stairs to the dungeons. He was halfway down the steps when he heard his footfalls being echoed by a second pair and turned ‘round to see Lily following him. She kept her eyes carefully away from meeting his surprised stare.

“You’ve been invited too?” he asked in shock.

Lily tilted her chin up, refusing to answer.

“What have you been invited for?” Remus questioned, rushing after her down the hall. “I thought you were muggle-born?”

Lily whirled ‘round at him, “Why’s it so shocking I’ve been invited because I’m a muggle-born?” she demanded, “Are you one of those bloody purists I keep hearing about from everyone? Thinking I’m dirty or something because my parents aren’t wizards?”

Remus looked taken aback, “No – blimey, no – I don’t care what your parents are. Only that’s why Slughorn invited me, so I thought Slughorn knew everyone’s parents.”

“Oh.” Lily paused. “No, I’ve been invited for my grades.”

“Well good on you, then,” Remus said.

They walked quietly down the corridor toward Slughorn’s office door down the end. “Sorry I yelled at you,” Lily said as they were approaching the little stairwell that led up to the Potion Master’s office. “It’s only that I’m getting quite tired of all the talk of blood purity around here.”

“Trust me,” Remus said thickly, “I am the last person that’s ever going to judge someone else for what they are that way.”

Lily smiled.

It was the first time Remus had really seen her smile properly and the way that it lit up her pretty green eyes, like she’d turned on a lamp behind the emerald orbs. He couldn’t help but smile back.

The door to the office swung open suddenly and Slughorn appeared, framed by the opening. From behind him came the sound of big band swing music like they listened to in the 1920s and 40s. “Welcome!” shouted Professor Slughorn, grinning widely as he held up his hands, one of which held a goblet with a heavy burgundy mead inside, which sloshed with his movements. “Come in, come in.” He ushered them inside and they saw there were great green curtains hung ‘round the walls to cover up the dungeonous feeling to the room, and squashy arm chairs surrounding a huge fireplace that twinkled with flames. There were shelves along one wall covered with jars of interesting potions ingredients and colorful solutions. One table in the corner held a gigantic brass phonograph, from which came the music with a raspy sort of quality to its tone that only improved the old time feeling.

When Slughorn had called the get-together exclusive, he hadn’t been kidding. There were only maybe a total of fifteen people in the entire room, Lily and Remus were easily the youngest. She looked at him uneasily and he shrugged and they both knew at that moment that if they were stuck in this together that, at least here, they would be friends. “Get yourselves a drink and come and join us by the fire,” Professor Slughorn instructed. He waved a palm at a long buffet style table which had goblets of the same dark mead that he was drinking and cups of pumpkin juice and little plates with lamb skewers laying with beds of rice. Lily and Remus both took a pumpkin juice and a plate and walked over to the hearth where the others were sitting. All the chairs were taken, so they sat down next to one another on the carpet.

“Now where we were,” muttered Professor Slughorn, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Oh yes…” he looked over to one of the older girls with a grin, “Do you think you’ll find some better players for the team this year and finally win the quidditch cup?” he asked.

“I think it every year,” answered the girl. “The problem is all the students in Ravenclaw house are more interested in getting their homework done than practicing. Makes it hard to get the team synced that way.” She sighed. Remus recognized her as the Ravenclaw quidditch team captain, only because Derek Bell had pointed her out. Her name was Gwen and according to Derek she’d gotten herself accepted by some quidditch team when she graduated in the summer. Derek had said she was the only brilliant one at quidditch in Ravenclaw and she was the only reason the house had been second for three years running in the quidditch cup.

“Yes, yes, that is true,” Slughorn said, “Well I won’t pretend that we don’t rather enjoy the results ourselves in Slytherin.” He grinned and winked and Gwen forced a smile and took a mouthful of mead as an excuse to look away. Slughorn chuckled, “Don’t mind it at all, do we, Isaac?” He turned to a tall, slim boy who was chewing on a large mouthful of the lamb, the Slytherin star player – a beater named Isaac Horan.

Professor Slughorn went on like this, calling attention to various people and the things which made them special enough to have been called into attendance and Remus got the feeling that Slughorn had collected only the most important people in the school – whether they were important for their own efforts like Gwen, Isaac, or even Lily, or because of who their family was, like himself and another boy, Harry Warbeck, whose mother was apparently a popular singer.

“So Remus, your father’s a great politician, then?” Slughorn asked, finally getting around to Remus in his tedious appraisal of the group.

Remus shrugged, “He works at the ministry. He’s not so much a politician.”

“Not running for minister, then?” Professor Slughorn asked.

“No,” Remus answered. There’d been a time, long ago, that Lyall Lupin had dreamed of such a thing but ever since Remus had been bitten the family had laid low in attempts to keep the secret their own. If Lyall had become minister of magic there would have been no way to keep the nosy reporters for the Daily Prophet from finding out about Remus and it would certainly have been all over the news that the man who drew up the Werewolf Restriction Act was indeed the father of a werewolf. Such awfulness would have come from that discovery that Lyall had given up completely on the ambition of politics and settled himself into his quiet job at the ministry where he was delightfully anonymous.

Slughorn paused a moment, “What about you, son, do you have ambitions for the ministry when you’re old enough?”

Remus shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Slughorn had moved on to talking to Harry Warbeck next and Remus had the distinct feeling that he probably wouldn’t have to worry about sitting through another one of these tedious meetings of the Slug Club again. He glanced at Lily, who shrugged apologetically, and took a bite of her rice as though to change the subject.

“So how was the party?” Sirius asked the moment Remus walked into the dormitories that night.

“A right snooze,” Remus replied. “We just sat around and listened while Slughorn talked about everybody’s skills and parents.” He rolled his eyes. “Nearly fell asleep a couple times. Lily had to nudge me to wake me up.”

James looked up from the History of Magic book he was reading. “Lily Evans was there?”

“Yeah,” Remus answered. “She has good grades, Slughorn asked her there for her smarts. Said she’s best in our class. But that’s not surprising. Look at what she’s got to compete against.” He waved his hands around the room at the four of them.

James asked, “Was that Severus Snape kid there?”

“No,” Remus replied and he went over to his four poster and pulled his pajamas out of his trunk. James looked back down at his book, though Remus got the distinct impression that James was no longer thinking about Goblin Wars at all.

Lily

September seemed to pass by in a flash. The leaves on the Whomping Willow slowly turned gold and burnt orange and fell onto the grounds. There was a bite to the air that made Lily think of hot chocolate. She sat in the large window seat in her room, staring out across the grounds at the Forbidden Forest, which looked like a water color painting she’d once seen at an art Museum with Petunia and her parents. She missed Petunia more and more as the month wore on, as students built up big piles of leaves that had fallen and swung from tree branches below during free periods, and she buried herself in homework to keep from thinking about the fun she and Tuney used to have, picking apples and learning to bake pies. October had always been her favorite month, for Mrs. Evans had a lot of wonderful apple and pumpkin recipes and they made them all leading up to Halloween, her favorite holiday. She was dreading October’s arrival this year because it would be the first time she’d spent it away from home, and she knew she’d become homesick. Especially given her lack of friends at Hogwarts.

Alice Bell was in second year and that meant she had more classes than Lily, so although they were together during lunch and in the evenings after supper, they very rarely had any time during the days to hang out together. Severus was still being elusive and hadn’t spoken to Lily since their talk in the corridors outside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, though he’d stared at her across the Great Hall every day. Remus had proven to be alright, but even after several meetings of the Slug Club, she still wasn’t ready to be around Remus Lupin outside of that setting. Especially since Remus was rarely away from James Potter and Sirius Black, neither of which she could stand. She didn’t understand how Remus could stomach the boys and she’d even asked him once on their way back to Gryffindor Tower from Professor Slughorn’s office.

“They’re just immature, mostly,” Remus explained. “Neither is really bad.”

“Sirius Black is a bully,” Lily argued, “And James Potter couldn’t be more arrogant if he tried.”

Remus shrugged, “James talks a big line but, you know, between me and you, I think he does it because his self-esteem is rubbish.”

Lily scoffed, “Uh huh.”

“Just my opinion, of course,” Remus said.

“And what’s Sirius Black’s excuse?” Lily demanded, “Not self-esteem as well?”

Remus replied, “Sirius’s family is his excuse.” He shrugged, “Doesn’t know any better, does he?”

“Maybe he should learn,” Lily suggested hotly.

“He will,” Remus answered. “Eventually.”

Remus’s words, of course, had not been enough to change Lily’s mind about the boys – and even if it had been, she would’ve changed back quickly enough as James and Sirius seemed to be especially obnoxious. But she would’ve been lying if she said that she didn’t start watching them a bit more carefully, thinking of the things they said and did through the new lens that Remus had provided her.

It was a Friday, the first of October, when Severus finally talked to Lily again.

She was sitting in the library, reading a book for a resource in a paper she was writing for Professor McGonagall and a little paper butterfly landed on the very tip of her nose. She blinked in surprise and when she moved the butterfly fell to the desk before her and unfolded to reveal itself as a note in disguise. She lifted the paper and read it over, recognizing Severus’s cramped handwriting.

Meet me in the Occlumency section.

“Occlumency section?” she breathed and she turned around to see the very bottom of his robes disappear behind a great stack of history books. She got up and tucked her parchment into her place in the Transfiguration book and quickly hurried in the direction he’d gone, ducking past the librarian, Madam Pince. Down the aisle she walked, following after Severus who was a couple yards ahead. When he turned a corner she hurried after him only to find he wasn’t there. “Sev?” she said quietly, looking around.

“Here I am,” he said from behind her, in a tiny alcove of books she hadn’t even noticed.

Lily looked around at the books that surrounded them. “What’s all this about, then?” she asked.

“I’ve figured out what’s going on with my dreams,” Severus replied. He held up a book that he’d been carrying, open to a page with an illustration of a man with several thought bubbles around his head, looking rather miserable. “I really have been seeing other people’s dreams.”

Lily’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yes,” Severus said. “It’s called Legilimency, being able to read other people’s minds, seeing their thoughts in my head, like I see my own.”

Lily stared gape-mouthed at him a moment. “But you only see their dreams, right?” she asked, suddenly nervous that maybe Severus was sifting around through her mind and she didn’t even know it.

“For now,” Severus answered, “But that’s how it starts. It’s a gift. There’s wizards who have learned it, but it’s really hard to learn it. If you have it naturally, like I do, it’s something you discover, just like you discovered you were magical.”

“Wow,” Lily whispered.

“It’s really rare,” Severus told her. “And I’m not only good at legilimency, but also at occlumency, which is when you block out other legilimens out so they can’t read your mind.”

Lily took the book from his hand and started ruffling through the pages slowly, “How did you find this?”

Severus hesitated. “One of the other… Slytherins,” he said.

“You told someone else about your dreams?” Lily asked, her feelings hurt.

Severus shook his head, “No, he’s a legilimens, too, and when he couldn’t see my mind, he asked how long I’d been studying occlumency. I looked it up and… I’ve read a load of books on it now and I’m pretty sure that’s what I’ve got.”

Lily looked up from the pages she was reading in the book that Severus had handed her. “It sounds like everything you’ve talked about happening,” she agreed. She pointed to the page, “They say you can learn to purposefully practice it, too. Are you going to?”

“Why not,” Severus answered. “Could be interesting, if nothing else, and maybe if I learn how to better control it I could actually get some sleep at night and see my own dreams for once.” He grinned at the thought of it.

Lily thought about how much she’d always taken her own dreams for granted and how odd it must be to be unsure if one had ever had their own dreams or only experienced the dreams of others all of their life. Severus’s wistful expression made her feel almost guilty for having never experienced the strange phenomenon he was going through.

“I thought maybe you’d want to help me,” Severus said quietly.

“Help you?” Lily asked.

“Yeah,” Severus answered, “Practice legilimency, I mean.”

“How could I help you? I haven’t got it.”

Severus shrugged, “You’re really smart. Maybe between the two of us we could figure out how the best way to learn how to control it would be and you could help me… you know… practice.”

“By letting you see my mind?” she asked nervously.

“Yeah,” said Severus.

Lily wasn’t sure she wanted to let Severus see her mind. The idea that there could be others like him in Hogwarts made her uneasy, and those were people she didn’t even know, not to mention him, who she did know. She thought of all the doubts and fears she had that she kept buried deep inside, all her secrets. He’d know all of them. She stared at him. Did she really want Severus Snape to have all of her?

“You can think on it,” he suggested.

“Okay, I will,” she answered.

He smiled. “I’ve really missed you, Lily,” he said.

She blushed, “I’ve missed you, too, Sev.”

Severus nodded awkwardly. “Well. Okay. I better go. Can we meet here again? Maybe Monday after lunch?”

“I have Herbology after lunch,” Lily replied.

“After that, then? Before Supper?” Severus asked.

“Don’t you have classes?”

Severus shrugged. “Just potions.”

“Slughorn’s teaching a shrinking potion this week,” Lily said, “You wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“I’ve known how to make a shrinking potion since I was a kid,” Severus said with a shrug. “I’d rather spend some time with you. Besides, I’ll only be skiving off the second half of a double potions. I’ll go to the first half anyway.”

Lily hesitated.

“Please? It’s the perfect time for us to start looking for answers and all… All the other Slytherins will be busy in classrooms. Nobody will be able to judge us.” Severus gave her the saddest puppy eyes she’d ever seen.

“Okay, alright,” Lily sighed.

He pumped the air excitedly. “It’s a date, then.”

“Yes, a study date,” Lily answered.

“Exactly,” Severus said, nodding.

Severus


Lily was already sitting on the floor in the Occlumency section when Severus arrived there. He had snuck out of his class and arrived to the library a few minutes later than they’d agreed upon originally, so he was relieved to see she’d waited. She had a large book called The Brain Is an Open Book and was paging through it with a nervous look on her face as she went on. She hadn’t even heard him walk up.

Severus dropped his own book bag next to her and dropped to the floor, too. “Hullo,” he greeted her. He leaned closer to see the book’s pages. “What’s this?”

“Just one of the books about legilimency,” she answered. “I wanted to catch up is all. You’ve already done a fair amount of reading on it, and I haven’t, so -- I didn’t want to be behind.” She closed the book. “It’s quite an interesting subject, really,” she added, turning to look at him as he sat down beside her.

Severus smiled. He liked being the focus of an interesting subject. It meant that he would be holding her full, undivided attention for some time and that it would be rather easier to talk her into these clandestine little meetings where he could be all alone with her. “It is very interesting,” he agreed, nodding eagerly.

Lily crossed her legs and asked, “Severus - are you going to read my mind?”

“That’s the idea,” he replied.

She twisted her lips off to one side. “Are you reading it now?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Truly?”

“Truly,” he said. “I don’t know how to read anyone’s mind yet, remember? That’s what we’re trying to figure out together. How I can control this stuff.”

Lily asked, “So… so you’ll read my mind once you can, then?”

“Do you want me to?” he asked.

Lily shook her head.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because,” Lily answered, “I have secrets and stuff.” She shrugged, her cheeks turning just the teeniest bit pink.

Severus’s voice was hurt, “Secrets? From me?” he asked.

Lily laughed, “Of course, Sev. Every girl has secrets. Loads and loads of secrets!”

“Even from me, your best friend?”

“That’s just how we’re built!” Lily said with a smile. “Besides. It’s not as though you don’t have any secrets from me.”

Of course Severus had secrets from her. He had plenty of secrets from everyone, really. He had the secret of the Dark Lord appearing in the fire of the Slytherin common room. He had secrets about his family, about the darkest days of his childhood, when his lousy muggle father had been treating his mother like rubbish. But his biggest secret of all was the way he felt when he was alone with Lily, like right now, sitting close enough their knees touched. He couldn’t bare to think about what it would be like if Lily knew.

“No,” he said, “I don’t.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “Liar,” she accused. “Everyone’s got secrets.”

“So what are you saying, then, Lily? That you don’t want to help me anymore?” Severus demanded, frowning.

“No, I want to help you,” Lily argued, “Just… promise you won’t go reading all of my mind. Like just stick to the stuff on top, okay?”

“Alright,” Severus answered.

“Okay then,” Lily said, smiling, contented. “So how do we do this?”

Severus had been planning this moment for some time, ever since he’d asked her to help him out with this whole project, he’d been envisioning this moment. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “Well, first, I think it’s important to start a connection.”

“A connection?”

He nodded, “Yes. Of my life and your life.”

Her eyes were wide, “How do we do that?”

“Holding hands,” Severus answered. He held out his palms to her and his heart raced as she placed her warm, soft hands into his cold, clammy ones. He’d been dying to feel her touch again. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his heart rate, because he was sure that even if she couldn’t hear it pounding that she’d be able to feel the throb of his pulse accelerating through his veins in his hands.

“No what?” she asked, staring benignly at him.

“Now…” Severus tried to recall what else the books had said. “Well, I guess you’ve got to sort of push your thoughts at me.”

Lily thought for a moment. “How does someone push their thoughts?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Severus admitted, “Maybe just sort of concentrate a bit; maybe imagine your thoughts going through our hands, sort of.”

“Okay.” Lily scrunched up her nose and concentrated really hard.

Severus concentrated hard, too, trying to read her mind. He closed his eyes to keep from being distracted by how pretty she was.

“Do you feel anything?” Lily asked.

The only thing he could feel was the hangnail on her left ring finger, digging into the heel of his palm and his still rather speedy heartbeat over the thrill of her touch. He tried to open his mind’s eye but all he could see in there was a mental image of the pretty gold color of her fingernails, shiny like a galleon. Alice Bell had shown her a charm to make her fingernails all sorts of colors - purple and blue and gold and red of all shades.

“Not yet,” Severus answered her.

They sat there like that for some time on the floor of the library, facing each other and holding hands, before Lily broke the silence. “Severus?”

He knew what she was going to say, but not because he’d read her mind or anything. Her stomach had growled several times in the last half hour or so, and he’d felt her fingers beginning to get fidgety in his hands.

“Severus, I’m rather hungry. It’s dinner.”

It was a miracle that Madam Pince hadn’t come back there and shooed them out anyway. He let go of her hands, reluctantly, and nodded, “Yeah, we should go eat,” he agreed.

“We can try again on Saturday,” she said, thinking his reluctance was because of the lack of results more than it was about their time together coming to an end. She put a hand on his shoulder, “You’ll be great,” she said, “We just need more practice, that’s all.” Lily smiled. “Soon, you’ll be reading everybody’s minds all over the place.” She stood up. “Don’t be discouraged.”

Severus nodded.

Lily smiled. “Okay, that’s settled then. I’ll see you on Saturday. I’ll keep reading some of these books, too,” she added, scooping them up, “And I’ll see if I can come up with a better way to practice.”

“Alright,” Severus said. But he liked the way they were practicing now, results or not, it was nice to be so close to Lily.

“Well… bye, then,” Lily said, and she walked off with the books balanced in her arms to check them out and then go off to dinner.

Severus sat in the quiet of the Occlumency section for a time, staring at the spines of books that surrounded him. He ran his finger along one dusty shelf and closed his eyes. If he sat really still and really quiet, now that Lily’s scent wasn’t distracting him, he could hear a quiet whisper in his mind - as though there were a far off crowd that he could almost overhear, way in the distance.

Lily


It was two o’clock in the morning when Lily awoke suddenly from a dream. She laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, where the trail of moonlight cut the darkness, trying to reorient herself with where she was. In her dream, she’d been in the Forbidden Forest, riding on the back of a beautiful stag. The stag had been warm and large and a comfort to her, such as she’d never felt before. She didn’t know where they’d been going or why they were running through the forest, but she’d been completely at peace with the beast itself, certain that so long as it was there, she was safe. She hugged the blankets to her chest and breathed deeper the crisp air of autumn.

There was a sound out in the common room that jostled her awake again. She realized that the sound had probably been what had woken her up to begin with and wondered what it was. She rolled out of bed and pulled on her robe, stepping into some slippers, and snuck from her bedroom to the top of the stairs that led to the girls’ dormitories. Peering over the edge, she saw a figure just stepping through the portrait hole -- it was one of the first year boys.

“Of course it is,” she whispered angrily. “Skiving off somewhere…” Ruffled, she hurried down the steps, determined to stop them because they were certain to be caught and lose a bunch of points for Gryffindor id she didn’t catch up and make them come back and go to bed. Lily’s footsteps were practically silent as she rushed to catch the common room door before it fully closed and she peered into the darkness beyond the portrait hole. She saw no one there in the corridor.

She hesitated, afraid that she would be caught out in the halls, but realized quickly that she could simply say she’d been trying to find a teacher to alert. She crawled through the hole and moved quickly down the stairs after the boys, angry they were causing such trouble.

For the hundredth time, she wondered why on earth she’d been saddled with such terrible classmates. Why couldn’t she have been a year older and been in Alice Bell’s year? The Gryffindor Second Year was full of such interesting and intellectual people, even the boys were kinder. But no, Lily Evans was stuck with James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter as her classmates. She rolled her eyes in the dark and scurried along.

She heard footsteps ahead and she hurried to catch up, sure they were one of the boy’s - probably Peter’s, as he seemed the least stealth of the four of them, and the most likely to do something stupid to be caught. They were nearly to the entrance hall, and she worried that in all that distance heading back to the common room would be nearly as dangerous as going on forward because somewhere in that big old castle lurked Mrs. Norris and Argus Filch, just waiting to get them all expelled. She imagined what Petunia would say if she were to be expelled before Halloween! How let down her parents would be!

Suddenly, they were at the grand staircase and Lily heard the steps creaking and was about to rush down after them and reveal herself when she spotted, at the foot of the steps, Albus Dumbledore. She jumped back behind the banister, thankful for the darkness that filled the first floor corridor and had kept her hidden, and ducked down to watch between the rungs. On the stairs, she realized, was only one figure and - surprise caught in her throat - it was only Remus Lupin, not the other three.

Of all of them, she would have least expected this sort of behavior from Remus.

And now there he was, about to be caught by Dumbledore. She wondered if Dumbledore would give him detention or simply send him off on the next train to London? Would Dumbledore be furious at him? She pictured what it might be like if the headmaster shouted and chills ran along her spine - Dumbledore didn’t seem like the type who would be very pleasant when they were angry. She waited with baited breath, scared of what would come next, and very much afraid that she might be caught, too, if that moonlight shifted too much.

“Good evening, Remus,” Dumbledore said. The sound of his voice and the cheerfulness of his tone surprised Lily and her eyebrows stitched together.

“Hullo, sir,” Remus answered.

Dumbledore was leading Remus across the entrance hall now, toward the great doors, his hand on Lupin’s shoulders, guiding him along. “You do remember how to get in, I assume?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Very good,” he said, and his beard looked silver in the moonlight. “Very good, my boy.” He opened the doors to the castle, allowing even more moonlight in, and Lily had to move to keep herself from being lit up in the corridor, her heart pounding rapidly against her ribcage. “We shall see you again soon, Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore’s voice said. Lily couldn’t see anymore from her new hiding place, but she heard the doors close and Dumbledore relocked them, muttering a spell as he replaced enchantments he must’ve broken before.

Then, a most terrible sound, Dumbledore was climbing the stairs!

Lily held her breath, being very careful to stay crouched in the darkness beside the suit of armor she’d chosen as her cover, and pressed herself as tightly against the wall as she could do. But it was no use. Albus Dumbledore came to a stop directly in front of her. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading him not to expel her for being out of bed, and she had the excuses already building in the back of her throat.

“Miss Evans,” he said quietly, “I shall keep your secret… if you will keep ours?”

Lily took a moment to process what he was saying. She wasn’t in trouble? As long as she kept it a secret she’d seen Dumbledore let Remus Lupin out of the castle? That was easy enough! After all, who was she going to tell that would care about such information? She nodded eagerly.

Dumbledore smiled, “Very good. Now pip-pip, off to bed with you.”

Lily leaped to her feet and ran back to Gryffindor tower, her heart racing, still afraid of meeting Mrs. Norris or Filch, but she didn’t pass another soul - not even a ghost - all the way up to the tower.

“Wrackspurt!” she called to the portrait as she approached and the Fat Lady swung open with a yawn. Lily rushed through the common room, up the stairs to the dormitories, and into her bedroom, which she was very pleased indeed to see. That had been her first, and, she decided, her last venture through the portrait hole during forbidden hours.

She turned herself over in bed and sank into the pillows in relief. She would’ve fallen asleep except the moment she closed her eyes she began to wonder what the secret was that she was keeping, exactly, and whether, really, it was the sort of secret that really ought to be kept…



Next morning, Lily had decided that she wouldn’t be breaking any unspoken deals with Dumbledore if she asked Remus himself what she’d overseen. She planned to find out exactly what the secret was that she was keeping - she felt that she deserved at least that much as secret keeper. So she went to breakfast in the Great Hall, intending to pull Remus aside and demand details from him. But when she arrived in the Great Hall, it was to find only three of the four Gryffindor first year boys at the table.

Remus didn’t show up at any of their classes, either, nor at lunch.

At dinner, Lily kept stealing glances at James and Sirius, who were bewitching their potato jackets to dance about on their plates while Peter clapped excitedly, quite amused by their little show. Lily wondered if the boys knew about Remus’s secret.

Finally, unable to hold back any longer, Lily cleared her throat. “Potter.”

James was so surprised by the sound of Lily’s voice calling her name that he nearly dropped his wand, causing the potato jacket to flip backwards onto the floor at his feet. Sirius laughed heartily as he ducked to retrieve it. “Are you talking to me?” he asked.

“Is there another Potter around here?” she asked pointedly.

James grinned. “Good point,” he drawled in a cocky voice. “I’m the only one.” He winked.

“Where’s Remus?” Lily asked.

James stared at her, still rather in disbelief that she was speaking to him on purpose, and he felt Sirius kick him in the shins under the table, reminding him to actually speak. “I - I don’t know,” James stammered. “The hopsital wing, I think.”

“The hospital wing?” Lily repeated.

“Yeah. The hospital wing.” James turned red.

Lily’s eyebrows furrowed, “Is he sick?”

“Yeah,” James said.

Sirius was grinning ridiculously beyond him.

“What from?” Lily questioned. He hadn’t seemed sick at dinner Sunday night, nor when she’d followed him along the corridors to the entrance hall.

James shrugged.

“Something chronic, we think,” Sirius spoke up quickly, leaning around James. Peter was pointing his wand at the potato jacket on his plate, trying to make it dance like the others had done, but with no luck. “It’s the same as last month, we figure,” Sirius added, turning to Peter to show him how to hold his wand correctly to cast the charm on the potato.

Lily had forgotten that Remus had been missing for several days the month before, too.

James hadn’t stopped looking at her, but Alice Bell arrived at the table then, and Lily turned to talk with her and Frank Longbottom, who eagerly took the empty seat beside her. Alice was going on about the newest Broomstick Boys single she’d heard on the radio the evening before. Finally, he turned back to Sirius and Peter and they got back to their antics.

Later on, while Alice and Frank were discussing subjects they were learning in their second year Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Peter nudged Lily. She looked at him, “What is it?”

“Do you fancy him?” Peter asked.

“Fancy who?” Lily asked. “Frank Longbottom?”

“No,” Peter said, shaking his head, “Remus.”

Lily shook her head, her nose scrunched up. “No, I don’t,” she said. “I’m just curious, that’s all.” The last thing in the world she wanted was for some kind of stupid rumor to start that she liked Remus Lupin or any of the Gryffindor first year boys, for that matter. Severus would go positively crazy at the thought.

“Oh,” Peter said, turning back to Sirius and James as they goofed around across the table.

Lily sighed and turned back to Alice and Frank, driving the thought of Remus Lupin and his secret out of her mind. After all, it didn’t really effect her, whatever it was.

Padfoot


“What do you think really is wrong with Remus, anyway?” James asked that night as the boys were all getting ready for bed.

Sirius shrugged, “Cauldron Pox, maybe.” He grinned as James laughed and dug his pajamas out of his trunk.

“Those are contagious,” squeaked Peter with wide eyes.

“Which is why he’s in the hospital wing,” said Sirius. He crawled under the covers of his bed and kicked his legs to loosen the sheets around his feet as Peter shook his head and got into his bed, looking warily in the direction of Remus’s.

“It’s not Cauldron Pox,” James said. He tugged his pajama top on over his head. “Why do you think Lily wanted to know about Remus?” he asked, voice muffled as he struggled through the neck hole.

Sirius glanced at Peter with a smirk. “Maybe she likes him,” he suggested.

Peter frowned.

James finally got the top on and turned to look at Sirius. “What? Lily likes Remus?” His hair was even messier than usual. “Who said that? Did she say that?”

Sirius’s smirk grew. “Dunno,” he said, “Just - I heard it is all.” The edge of his mouth twitched with amusement.

“Well good for Lupin then.” James’s tone gave away his jealousy. He got into bed and made a job of fixing the blanket ‘round him.

“Actually,” Peter spoke up, punching his pillow into shape, “Lily said he isn’t the one that she fancies.”

Sirius and James both looked at Peter in surprise. “When did Lily Evans talk to you?” Sirius demanded.

Peter shrugged as he snuggled into his blankets. “At dinner,” he replied. “We’ve had a few long talks before, too, while you weren’t paying attention.”

James fidgeted. “Right. So I suppose she told you who she does fancy, then?” he asked hotly.

Sirius’s eyes flashed between the two of them.

Peter shrugged again, and moved even deeper into his blankets and rolled over.

Sirius and James looked at one another. “Are you saying she fancies you?” Sirius scoffed as James scowled. Sirius in no way believed Peter, but he found the whole interaction hilarious. He wondered how James could possibly believe that Lily liked Peter for even a moment. Peter, who couldn’t fly a broomstick to save his life, whose marks were the lowest in the entire first year. James was just blinded by his own fancy, and the funny part was that James had no idea how smitten he was…



Next day at lunch, the boys agreed to go up to the hospital wing and visit Remus after Herbology. When they’d finished going over various plants and fungi with Professor Viridi, they ran back up to the castle and through the halls to the hospital wing. All the way, Peter second-guessed their choice to visit their ill comrade. “What if he’s got Cauldron Pox, for real?” Peter questioned.

“Then I guess you’d better get ready for oozing boils all over your face, huh?” Sirius laughed, leading the way along the corridor.

Peter didn’t look amused at all. “Cauldron Pox is not a laughing matter,” he argued. “Haven’t you ever seen’em? My gran had’em once; she was covered in boils, so much you couldn’t hardly recognize her!”

James rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Peter? Are you a Gryffindor or not? You’re acting like a bloody Hufflepuff.” He and Sirius high-fived one another.

Peter scowled. “If you’re calling me a coward because I’m nervous about catching Cauldron Pox, then you don’t obviously don’t understand how contagious --” Peter stopped talking mid-sentence, though, for they’d arrived at the hospital wing and Sirius had led the way quite boldly inside.

Madam Pomfrey was measuring out a potion that smelled sour and terrible. She looked up as the boys walked into the room. At the far end of the wing was a moaning Ravenclaw third year who’d fallen from his broomstick during Quidditch practice on the pitch. Other than him, the wing was empty.

“No visitors!” Madam Pomfrey announced. “Mr. Turin has a knee cap to regrow, he needn’t be bothered right now. Out with the lot of you.”

Peter started to scurry off at once, but Sirius said, “Actually, we’re not here to visit Turin. We’re here to see Remus Lupin. Can we see him?”

“Remus Lupin?” Madam Pomfrey looked confused. “I haven’t seen Remus Lupin. Now out, you. Go.” She shooed the boys into the hall roughly and shut the door behind them.

James and Sirius exchanged looks once they were in the corridor. “He’s not in the hospital wing?” Sirius said, his eyebrows screwing up into a perplexed expression. “So where’s he been at then?”

“Dunno,” murmured James, looking puzzled.

Peter said, “Isn’t it obvious? I told you Cauldron Pox was dangerously contagious - they’ve obviously sent him off to St. Mungo’s.”

“We don’t know that he’s got Cauldron Pox,” James reminded Peter with exasperation. “We made that bit up, don’t you remember?”

“Besides, I’m sure that Madam Pomfrey can cure Cauldron Pox without sending students off to St. Mungos,” said Sirius.

“Maybe he had a family emergency,” James suggested. “You know, like a death in the family or something.”

“Perhaps,” mused Sirius. But he was less than convinced.

“Think he’ll come back?” Peter asked.

“Why not?” James asked.

“Well, he’s missed a lot of classes,” Peter pointed out.

Sirius shook his head. “He’s got good marks.”

Peter sounded miserable. “That’s true, I ‘spose. If it were me and I missed that many classes, I’d never catch up.”

“They’d just have you repeat the year is all,” Sirius said, still thinking on where else Remus could be.

“Or else they’d just officially declare you a squib,” James taunted.

Peter scrambled to keep up. “I’m not a squib,” he argued.

James laughed.

They walked on up to Gryffindor tower to complete their homework that was due in astronomy, though Sirius wasn’t really able to concentrate on any of the charts and books… He was too busy trying to figure out what was going on with Remus.



It continued to bother Sirius what was going on with Remus. The most curious part that Sirius just couldn't get over was the fact that none of the teachers seemed to either notice nor care where Remus was at. Sure, Binns barely noticed any of the students were there at all, ever, but Flitwick was much more attentive and he hadn't said a word during their Charms class that morning. As they made their way up to Transfiguration, Sirius thought for sure that something would finally be said about Remus missing, but even Professor McGonagall didn't say a word about his absence.

Sirius decided it was time to find out what was going on. He raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Black?" McGonagall asked.

"Do you happen to know where Remus is?" he asked, then added a quick, "M'am," to the end. He stared up at her hopefully.

Professor McGonagall's stern eyes peered down at Sirius as she stood before him at the desk. "Does Mr. Lupin's location somehow effect your ability to transfigure that pin cushion into a porcupine?" she asked.

"Well," Sirius hesitated, "No, professor, but -"

"Then it does not matter at this time, does it?" she asked rhetorically with a tone of finality.

Lily was frowning down the table over Remus's empty seat. When Professor McGonagall turned back to her chalkboard, she leaned over and hissed, "I thought you guys said Remus was in the hospital wing?"

James looked over at her and said, "I thought you didn't fancy him?"

McGonagall cleared her throat. "The speaking I overhear better be a discussion about the task at hand."

Lily frowned, then grabbed hold of her pin cushion and waved her wand. "Ericius factus!" And suddenly before her sat a quivering porcupine.

"Bloody hell," Peter murmured, glancing over. "How'd you do that?" He was awed.

McGonagall turned around. "Oh very good, Miss. Evans! Ten points to Gryffindor."

"I don't fancy Remus," whispered Lily as Professor McGonagall inspected the porcupine proudly. "I'm just curious."

"Well be curious some place else," James replied, and he grabbed his own wand, trying desperately to turn his pin cushion into a porcupine as well, but all he could seem to do was make his pin cushion turn brown.

Moony


Remus was exhausted. He got back to the castle late Wednesday afternoon, while the other Gryffindors were having their free period before supper. He was careful not to be spotted as he rushed across the grounds in the fading sunlight and through the doors to the entrance hall. Professor Dumbledore was just crossing from the staircase to the Great Hall as Remus entered. Dumbledore’s half moon spectacles reflected the candle lights as they puffed to life all around in their holders.

“Welcome back, Mr. Lupin,” Dumbledore greeted him, smiling kindly. He motioned for Remus to join him on the way into the Hall. “But my, you do look rather tired. I understand why, of course…” He paused by the Gryffindor table and rapped upon the wood with his knuckles three times in a pattern and a single plate of warm food appeared before Remus. Dumbledore bent low, “Perhaps get a little food into your belly before the others come and pummel you with questions of your whereabouts?”

“Thank you, sir,” yawned Remus.

Dumbledore smiled. “You are most welcome, indeed,” he answered. He squeezed Remus’s shoulder, then continued on his way up to the staff table, where Professors Viridi and Tutman were already seated, tearing at butter-soaked rolls as they discussed Devil’s Snare.

Remus ate some of his food, slowly, wanting nothing more than his bed upstairs in Gryffindor tower, and knowing he had some time before he would get to go and lie down in it.

The Hall doors burst open once more and the students began filing in for supper. Remus took a deep breath, preparing himself for the questions he knew Sirius, James, and Peter would be asking. To his great surprise, though, the first person to approach him was Lily Evans.

“Where have you been?” she hissed, pausing by him on her way to go sit with Alice Bell, like usual.

Remus replied, “I was ill, in the hospital wing.”

“Not according to James and Sirius, you weren’t,” she answered. “They said they went to visit you and Madam Pomfrey told them you hadn’t been.” Lily leaned closer, “I saw you leave the castle Sunday night. I know there is a secret; Dumbledore told me so. I just want to know what it is.”

Remus felt his face flush hot-hot-hot and his brain scrambled for something to say, some excuse to give. “There isn’t a secret,” he lied. “I was ill, that’s all.”

Lily stared at him. He got the impression she could tell by his eyes he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Fine,” she said. “Don’t tell me then.” She stormed off to take her seat.

Remus could feel his insides crawling with nervousness. He’d expected questions, sure, but not from Lily. And if Sirius and James had gone to the hospital wing and discovered he hadn’t been there - well, he was in for quite a lot more questions than he’d prepared for. He looked longingly in the direction of Dumbledore, wishing he had asked what to tell everyone in this sort of situation. Dumbledore, though, was deep in conversation with Professor Flitwick and had his back turned to Remus.

“Well there you are at last,” Sirius’s voice came from behind Remus and he turned to look as James and Peter sat across the table and Sirius sank down beside him. “Been bloody wondering where you’ve been,” he added.

“And don’t say Madam Pomfrey’s either, we tried to visit you,” James said.

Peter was looking Remus over suspiciously. “You didn’t have Cauldron Pox, did you?” he asked.

“Cauldron Pox?” Remus exclaimed, “No! Galloping gargoyles, I’d look like that Mulciber bloke in Slytherin if I had!” James snickered and high-fived Remus for the burn against the notoriously nasty Slytherin student. “I just - I had to kip home for a bit, that’s all.”

“You went home?” Peter sounded surprised.

“Family emergency, then?” James asked.

“Yeah, something like that.”

James turned to Sirius, “I told you! You owe me a chocolate frog, mate.”

Remus blinked in surprise, “You were betting on where I was?”

James nodded as Sirius dug a chocolate frog from his bookbag and chucked it at James. But Sirius wasn’t ready to let the conversation go as easily as he had done the sweet. “So what was the emergency? Nobody died or anything, I hope?”

Remus shook his head, “Nobody died.” They had no idea how much of a relief that was to say that after a full moon cycle. Every month Remus worried - would this be the month that he killed? Would this be the time that the wolfish instincts completely controlled him?

“So what was so important that Dumbledore let you leave Hogwarts for?” Sirius demanded.

Luckily, it was at that moment that the headmaster stood up, waving his palms for silence in the Hall and Remus had the perfect excuse to turn away without answering.

“Before we begin eating,” Dumbledore said, his voice magically amplified throughout the Great Hall, “I do have an announcement to make. In light of recent discoveries, the school will be shutting down access to the floo network as a form of communication within house common rooms until further notice.” A great deal of complaint rippled through the Hall and Dumbledore raised his voice to carry over it until the protests had died down. “Floo network access will be limited to just a few rooms of the castle, and will require the use of a network pass, which can be obtained from your head of house. The network will be monitored. There are dark wizards in this world, and I must caution those whose wishes are to communicate with them that there is much at risk. Much indeed. Do think twice before joining the ranks of those who must request your allegiance, rather than earn it.” Dumbledore stared around the room carefully, then clapped his palms together. “Let’s eat!”

Sirius grinned, “Well there’s my excuse for not flooing home to Mother.”

“Who do you suppose was talking to dark wizards on the school’s floo network? The prat!” James exclaimed. Unlike Sirius, he was a bit more disappointed by the extra work he would need to put in to call home.

“Probably some git from Slytherin,” said Sirius darkly, looking over at the table across the hall. “Perhaps it was Snivellus. He looks awful guilty.”

Peter and James turned ‘round in their seats to look at Severus Snape. Remus sucked on the bone of the chicken leg he had just finished.

“That Lucius bloke seems mighty smug, too, doesn’t he?” James commented.

“I’m sure he’s involved somehow. His family’s close to the Dark Lord,” said Sirius lowly. “He’s cousins on one side and his girlfriend, Narcissa, she’s my cousin, too. They’re both quite nasty.” Sirius scowled.

“They should chuck the lot of Slytherin out,” boasted James in a carrying voice, “Filthy lot they are; too keen on blood purity to give a damn about being any good!” The words were out of his mouth before he noticed Lily staring at him with a disapproving look. He shrugged guitily at her, but it was better she know. “Lot of traitors, they are, only interested in power and being better than everybody else. Well they aren’t any better.” He turned away, trying to push the way Lily had looked at him out of his head.

While the subject of blood purity wasn’t the best topic that Remus could think of to be discussing, it was certainly a relief to have the spotlight off himself and so he ate in silence while James and Sirius went on about the Slytherins and their bloodlines.





At midnight, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw first years were huddled on the top of the astronomy tower with Professor Zosma, setting up their telescopes, preparing to begin their star charts. Remus stared up at the waxing moon and frowned. It was too close to full for his liking. The hairs on his arms stood up and reached for it and he felt itchy all over, as though every pore in his body could feel the light hitting it. He wouldn’t turn, though, it was safe, but it felt strange being out in it. He hated the moon. It was his enemy.

Lily had separated herself a few feet from any of the boys, annoyed by their secrets and their contempt for other houses. She had already assembled her scope completely before any of the others had done. Remus was a far second, but still had completed his before James and Sirius, not to mention poor Peter, who Remus finally leant a hand to.

Zosma walked along behind them instructing them in the degrees to which their telescopes needed to be aimed. “Tonight, we will be talking about Uranus…”

Sirius cackled.

“...and the meaning if it’s placement in the sky,” Zosma finished, ignoring Sirius. “Have you all correctly aimed your scopes? You should see Uranus to the left.

James glanced back to be sure Zosma was facing the other way then aimed his telescope at Sirius’s rear end. “I see Uranus, Sirius,” he giggled.

Sirius laughed so hard he snorted.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Really!” she said in indignation.

“Really,” snickered James.

Sirius helped him realign the scope to find the planet as Zosma continued lecturing them. Remus tried to ignore them, they were quite immature. He understood why Lily was always so annoyed by them. He glanced over to give her an apologetic look but she scowled back, still angry at him for not telling her where he had been.

He wondered if she had told Sirius, James, and Peter she’d seen him leave the castle on Sunday.

“Who’s that down on the lawn?” asked Peter suddenly.

Remus pulled back from his scope to look. Peter’s scope wasn’t even aimed at the sky. In copying Sirius and James jokes, he’d managed to throw off the aim of the scope so abysmally that he was looking down past the whomping willow towards the shore of the lake. Sure enough, there was a dark figure there, walking along in the shadows of the forest.

“Can I see?” Remus asked.

Peter moved for Remus to peer through his scope. Adjusting the focus for his eyes, he watched the figure moving, skulking along. It looked rather familiar, he thought, and he waited for the figure to step into relief of the moonlight.

“I think it’s Professor Tutman!” said Remus in surprise.

“What would Tutman be doing on the grounds at this hour?” hissed James. He’s whirled his scope to take a look, too, and Sirius peered into James’s scope.

“Does look like him, though,” said Sirius.

“Funny,” muttered Remus. “I wonder what he’s up to.” He gave Peter back his scope, looking at James with a puzzled expression.

James shrugged.

Peter continued watching Tutman, though, long after the other boys had returned to looking at Uranus.

The Opening Match (Prongs)



October moved along quickly as the first year Gryffindors stayed busy with classes and homework. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter managed to get through mapping the first two floors of the castle, having marked off all the basic landmarks along the corridors on a couple of large sheets of parchment that Sirius kept locked in his trunk. Despite their efforts, however, to be sure they opened every door and looked in every nook and cranny, they still felt that they were missing parts of the castle. It seemed that Filch could materialize from one part of the castle to another instantly.

“Perhaps he’s disapparating?” James suggested one evening as they walked across the grounds to the pitch for flying lessons.

Remus shook his head, “Bilius said there isn’t any apparating on school grounds. That’s why they’re scheduled to practice out in Hogsmeade.”

“Well bloody hell,” mumbled Sirius, who had been quite excited by the idea, “How is he doing it, then?”

The others were getting quite good at flying in their lessons on the pitch with Madam Hooch - though the only one who came close to flying as well as James was Lily, who had actually proven to be rather good naturally. But that wasn’t much of a surprise as she was the best in every other subject as well. Professor Slughorn simply adored her, doting over every potion she brewed as though she were some sort of prodigy. All of the teachers were forever marvelling over Lily and her talents.

“Why don’t they just go on and coronate her and get it bloody over with?” groaned Sirius after a particularly arduous Transfiguration class, upon the conclusion of which Professor McGonagall had shown them Lily’s perfect china pie bird, transfigured from an actual bird. “It wasn’t even that clever,” he grumbled. “Anyone could’ve thought to make a pie bird out of a real bird, couldn’t they?”

Meanwhile, James and Sirius were becoming known less for their marks and more for their talent of getting in (and out of) trouble. The boys were always up to some sort of no good and the teachers were endlessly keeping their eyes on them, both in and out of classes. It wasn’t uncommon to be sitting in the Gryffindor common room and hear a shriek of surprise as some unfortunate soul happened upon a booby trap or a practical joke of some kind that they’d set up. One of their favorites had been a spell Sirius had found in a book in the library which set a little rain cloud on Peter Pettigrew that wouldn’t stop pouring down upon him. This had been quite funny until the counter-charm had failed to work and the boys had to present their tomfoolery to Professor McGonagall in order to get the rain turned off. She’d been most disapproving and taken five points from Gryffindor for it.

The first quidditch match of the season was a hot topic around school come the middle of October. It would be between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and there was a lot of speculation about the teams, which both had apparently been granted a new captain over the summer because their prior captains had graduated. It was to be an exciting event and, to triple the excitement, it was on the day before Halloween, on which there would be a great holiday feast.

Day of the match came and it was rainy and bleak outside. James and the boys bundled up to brace themselves against the cold, refusing to miss the match over a spot of poor weather. They weren’t the only ones to brave it, either, it seemed most of the school was trooping down to the pitch in their galoshes and rain jackets. James used the impervious charm to keep rain from getting on his maroon-and-gold trainers.

Despite the rain, the stands were alive with anticipation and Sirius had saved a box of Bertie Botts for them to share in the stands while they waited for the game to begin. The boys laughed and swapped beans with one another, daring each other to eat the ones that looked as though they may taste nasty. They were just starting to get antsy, bored after Peter refused to eat another one of the nasty beans no matter how many triple-hippogriff-dare-yous they issued him, when there came a ripple of excitement through the crowd.

Madam Hooch had stepped onto the pitch below… the doors to the locker rooms were opening up… and there came the Hufflepuff team… and then the Gryffindors…

“Welcome everyone to the first match of the 1971 Hogwarts House Championship Quidditch Season!” The commentator was a Ravenclaw fourth year named Oskar that James recognized only because he’d stopped the boys in the hallway one of the days they’d been mapping the first floor corridors. “We begin this season with a match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor!” A considerable applause went up for each of the houses, though the Slytherins booed mightily for the Gryffindor team and nobody had booed for Hufflepuff.

“Gits,” muttered Sirius, scowling toward the little huddle of green and silver at the end of the pitch.

“New captains Wally Jones and Derek Bell approach one another for the customary handshake… and the snitch is released! We’re off!” Oskar’s voice picked up with excitement as he offered up a play-by-play of the action.

James and Sirius leaped about on the stands, shouting manically at the players, waving their arms in glee. Derek Bell was fantastic as chaser, moving with speed amongst the other players in his scarlet Quidditch robes. “Bell with the quaffle,” said Oskar’s magically magnified voice over the pitch’s full stands, “Dodges Jasper Kensington’s bludger -- ‘round to keeper, Jones -- and shoots and --- ten to zero, Gryffindor!”

The Gryffindor side of the pitch went wild as Derek’s throw went through the gold hoop at the end of the pitch and James did a sort of jig in his seat. Even Lily and Alice, who were sitting at the far end of the row the four boys were in, seemed impressed and clapped for Derek’s good job done. They’d come mainly to root for Derek, who’d confided exclusively in his little sister that he was nervous about his first game as captain, and of course Lily was eager to help Alice in cheering up her brother. James’s eyes flickered over to Lily as she clapped and he smiled.

Following James’s glance, Sirius smiled, too, and announced boldly, “Just think, mate, next year it’ll be you that’s star and they’re all clapping for.” James laughed as Lily looked their way. “You’ll be the star of the Quidditch team,” Sirius roved on, “And you’ll have the girls queuing up to be ‘round you in no time. Anybody looking to be with you ought to have a go at it now, while you’re still available!”

Lily sniffed and turned away.

“Bloody hell, Sirius,” laughed James, “What are you going on about? I’d give’em all a shot, if they’d have me,” he said, side-eyeing Lily, who, although she’d turned away, was clearly still listening.

“Maybe we could hold a lottery,” Sirius said, “Like the muggles do with their pounds… only instead of galleons you’d be the prize.”

“I wouldn’t even pay a knut,” whispered Lily to Alice.

Oskar’s voice broke over them, ending the conversation. “Rowling blocks Roekby’s attempt at the quaffle… it goes back to Bell -- to Weasley -- off to Bones… Quaffle’s in Hufflepuff’s possession now. Bones with the quaffle… down the pitch…. Aims… Rowling dives but Bones scores! Tied game!”

“Damn!” shouted Sirius.

“Watch your tongue, Mr. Black,” came Professor McGonagall’s voice from behind them, making all four boys jump in surprise, having not realized that McGonagall was so close at hand… directly behind them, to be exact!

The game’s action only picked up as the quaffle moved about the pitch from player to player. Bilius Weasley scored and the Slytherins booed loudly - a cry led by the pale-faced Lucius Malfoy, which set Sirius’s teeth on edge. He yelled something that angered Bilius, and Derek Bell had to hold Bilius back from marching off the pitch into the stands to clobber Malfoy.

“T’aint worth it, mate,” they heard Derek shouting at Bilius.

The score was climbing steadily, though, despite Slytherin’s nasty attitude, and soon the game was 110-90, Gryffindor only just holding onto the lead throughout. It was then that James spotted it - the gold snitch, hovering near by, seeming to watch the game itself from a high vantage point. The rain made it damn near impossible to see it, as the sun wasn’t reflecting off it’s gold shell but James knew what he saw. “There’s the snitch,” he said to Sirius, pointing, but Sirius couldn’t see it. Neither, for that matter, could either of the seekers.

It was mighty frustrating for James, knowing exactly where the snitch was and being unable to help out and grab hold of it!

“Blimey, why can’t they see that thing, it’s right there!” wailed James as the seekers zipped about, searching without seeing.

“I think you’re the only one that can,” Remus said, squinting in the direction James was frantically pointing.

“There -- right there --” he said, “By Tinnamin’s shoe! OI! TINNAMIN!” James shouted, waving at the snitch with all his might.

The seventh year seeker for Gryffindor team, Andy Tinnamin, only just heard James’s shout over the pounding rain and he looked over, trying to spot him through the rain. James was pointing… pointing down… and Tinnamin looked and he saw the snitch and with a dive that would’ve blown the minds of most anyone, Tinnamin shot forward and snapped the snitch up in his palms faster than you could say the word quidditch.

“I don’t believe it!” yelled Oskar, “I don’t believe it! Gryffindor wins with the snitch 160-90! Good try, Hufflepuff!”

The crowd went wild and people were chanting out the Gryffindor seeker’s name with enthusiasm. Sirius glanced back over his shoulder and hissed, “Let’s go.” James looked, too, and Professor McGonagall looked torn between anger that James had interfered and revently thankful that he had, kind of all mixed up together.

James nodded, “Yes, let’s; before she decides how she feels ‘bout this all.” He nudged Remus and the three of them slipped away from the stands before McGonagall could turn on them for James pointing out the snitch to Tinnamin.

Later that night, the common room was a buzz with excitement, even after everyone had started to settle down and relax for the night. The four first year boys were laying on the carpet in front of the fire doing their revisions when Derek, Bilius, Andy, and the other players of the Gryffindor Quidditch team came in through the portrait hole. Bilius carried a bag stuffed with sweets and treats from the kitchens, a bottle of butterbeer in his fist, a grin on his face as he waved his arms about excitedly for everyone to see. “Hey, mates! Snacks on the Gryffindor win!” he shouted as the house leaped back into excited action around him, collecting their treats and butterbeers from the sack as though he were Father Christmas or something. “To Tinnamin!” shouted Bilius excitedly, cheersing to Andy.

Andy raised his bottle, but before taking a sip he said, “Really we owe it all to Potter!”

“To Potter?” Derek asked in surprise as half the room turned to look at James.

“I hadn’t seen the snitch and he spotted it from the stands and shouted and pointed it out to me,” Tinnamin explained, turning and raising his glass to James instead. “To you, Potter.”

“To Potter!” Bilius cried out. Everyone who had grabbed a butterbeer already shouted ‘here, here!’ and Sirius grinned, miming lifting a glass with his empty hand.

“Ruddy good job, Potter!” Derek exclaimed proudly.

Andy grinned, “I reckon you lot won’t have any trouble replacing me next year at this rate,” he said, winking at James.

The players were submerged in excited Gryffindors collecting their snacks and shouting congrats to them and thanking James. Sirius elbowed James with pride, “Sounds like you won’t even be needing to try out next year.”

James grinned, quite excited at the prospect of his exciting future in Quidditch.

Meanwhile, across the room, Lily and Alice Bell were sitting on a couch, Lily doing homework while Alice read Teen Witch’s new issue. Lily scowled, watching everyone make such a big deal about James. She rolled her eyes, “Can’t they see Potter’s ego is large enough without their help in making it even bigger?” she groaned. “Honestly!”

Alice didn’t even look up. “James is really good at quidditch,” she said, “Of course they’re going to make a big deal about it.”

“He makes out like he’s some great gift to Hogwarts - and Sirius with all that bloody racket about girls lining up for him… he’s just an arrogant git. He’s not even that good looking with that awful, messy hair of his…”

Alice’s eyes traveled over the edge of the magazine and landed on James across the room. She shrugged, “I don’t know… He’s not exactly a troll,” she said slowly.

Lily looked over at Alice in disbelief. “You like him?” she demanded.

Alice shrugged again, her cheeks turning pink. “I don’t know. I mean… he’s young yet but… but he’ll probably be handsome when he gets a bit older… I’m just saying.”

Lily turned back to her spellbooks, frustrated, annoyed that even her best friend was under whatever spell it was that James Potter had cast on the entire Gryffindor house.

The Mind of Lucius Malfoy (Severus)


Halloween morning came with much the grandeur as one might expect of a holiday. There were no classes as it was a Sunday, yet everyone was up early and the Slytherin common room was a ruckus of noise. Students were shouting and laughing, messing 'round with one another and talking about the feast. The older students were telling all the First Years about the floating candles and jack o'lanterns that filled the air all 'round the long tables in the Great Hall. There were shouts and squeals of excitement and shrieks of laughter as the students talked and exchanged every last detail that any of them knew about the festivities of the day… and it was a great relief to Severus Snape that everyone was too busy down in the common room to notice how strange it was that he was up in the dorms, fast asleep, finally able to quiet his mind now that his room mates were gone.

He had only been asleep for maybe a half an hour, though, when he was shaken awake.

“Severus,” the cool voice said and he groaned. “Severus, wake up.”

His eyes cracked slightly to find Lucius Malfoy sitting on the bed next to his, grey eyes staring intently down at him, face serious. “What is it?” Severus asked, loathing Malfoy for having interrupted his only time to relax. He slid the book he'd been reading by wandlight when he fell asleep under the pillow.

Lucius was standing across the room, leaning against one of the other First Years' desks. He ruffled through the boy's notes and tossed them aside, turning back to look at Severus. “The Dark Lord is curious about your...” he paused, searching for the right word, “Er, talent.”

“My talent?” Severus asked.

“The legilimency,” Lucius replied.

The book on Severus's lap seemed to suddenly weigh a million pounds. Something deep inside him sparked and for some reason, though he didn't quite know why, he felt that Lucius needn't not know that he was studying his so-called talent by night, and getting stronger at it everyday.

“What about it?” Severus asked in a challenging tone.

“Well, as you recall from the night that the Dark Lord spoke with us through the Floo Network, he desires to know where you learned such an interesting skill.” Lucius was studying his wand tip, like an old time western film gunslinger might study his gun. Severus had seen one of those motion pictures with his father, long ago, when his father had still tried to make an effort to uphold the image that they were a Normal Family. “After all,” Lucius said, still staring at the wand, not at Severus at all, “It is a very unusual talent for such a young, inexperienced - half-blood wizard, like yourself, to possess.”

Severus felt a twinge of unease begin to sink in. He quickly calculated his options: tell the truth or tell a lie. But which lie? How much truth? Careful to keep his eyes level with Malfoy's, avoiding all of the classic elements of body language that came with a fib, he said smoothly, “I didn't learn it, I've always had it.” He shrugged as though this were the plainest, simplest thing in the world. He stared up at Lucius with what he hoped was an innocently blank expression.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, “Always?” he asked.

“Always.”

Lucius considered this for a moment, and lowered his wand, which Severus mistook for Malfoy letting his guard down. He turned away, and Severus thought he was about to leave the room and was thankful for it, when suddenly Lucius turned back. “Tell me what I am thinking now,” he demanded, “Keeping in mind that the Dark Lord is not the sort of person with whom you mess around. Telling the Dark Lord that you've a talent he deems valuable without actually having it is --” he paused, stopping mid-sentence. “Well,” he finished, a dark look clouding his eyes, “It's not something you would be well advised in doing.”

Again, Severus paused to survey his options. He couldn't see where he had many. Though he hadn't yet managed to actually read anyone's mind yet, he could either find a way to do it – right here, right now, on the spot with Lucius Malfoy – or, he could confess the truth, that he was still learning. Which would reveal that he had yet to fully learn to control his talent, as Lucius called it.

This moment, Severus realized, was very important and may just be the one moment that would define his entire life. This talent had gained him the attention of the Dark Lord, the most powerful wizard in the world, the one whose coming his mother had looked forward to all of his life, whose rise would mark the cleansing and reclaiming of the wizarding world… and here he was, a half-blood with something to prove. This was his chance, perhaps his only chance, to do so.

He could do this.

He could.

And so, he took the chance.

Severus closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing at all, as the books had all instructed him to do. He tried not to think anything at all and empty his brains right out and hear nothing but the ringing silence in his mind. This step, the books all said, was by far the hardest of learning Legilimency and the one which made most wizards desist their study of it. It took the utmost of concentration.

Lucius stood before him with a smirking grin spreading across his face as Snape squeezed his eyes tighter shut. He was about to open his mouth to tell Severus to forget it when a sort of chilled feeling went over him and he was reminded of the feeling of a disillusionment charm being placed upon him or something like it. He looked around, a bit panicked, caught off guard, a shiver sent down his spine.

“You don't believe me,” said Severus.

Lucius turned back to look at him as Severus opened his beady black eyes.

“You're just pretending to give a damn about me because you feel like you have to, as you're my cousin, but you don't really because I'm a half-blood and you don't believe that I could be any good at Legilimency. What do you think, that I've somehow tricked the Dark Lord?” Severus demanded.

Lucius's face rang with surprise before he could contain it. “I – you're mistaken,” he stammered.

Severus felt a thrill of accomplishment. He'd guessed correctly. “You're afraid, too,” he said, “Afraid that you're wrong and I'll actually be good at Legilimency and it will make me be the Dark Lord's favored one, not you. You're afraid to fall out of graces with him.” Severus grinned at the uncomfortable expression these words brought to Lucius's face. “That really gets your goose, doesn't it, Lucius?” he asked, “Imagining that me, a half-blood Prince might be more important to the Dark Lord than you, the latest in a centuries-long line of pure-blood Malfoys.”

The two boys stared at one another. Lucius's chin tilted upward, staring coldly down his nose now at his cousin. Severus thought that if Lucius could have, he would have squashed him like a bug just to be rid of him. Finally, after a long moment, Lucius cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. Clearly you truly do possess the ability, then.”

Severus nodded.

A long moment passed again, and then, as though it was excruciatingly painful for him to do so, Lucius reached out a hand, offering Severus to shake it. It was a peace offering. A general acknowledgement that they both knew now what was going on in the mind of Lucius Malfoy, and were agreeing to let it go in the name of the greater good. Slowly, Severus reached up and grasped Malfoy's hand and they shook.

Malfoy swept from the room afterwards, closing the dormitory door behind him.

Severus sat in silence for a few moments, listening to Lucius's footsteps on the stairs leading into the common room. His heart was racing now, delayed anxiety. He'd gotten lucky, very lucky indeed. He didn't know what would come next, but he was certain, beyond a doubt, that now more than ever it was absolutely imperative that he figure out exactly how to practice occlumency and legilimency before any further questions could arise from either Lucius Malfoy or the Dark Lord himself.

With that in mind, Severus pulled the book out from under the covers and quickly set to work in reading it.





Later, Severus could tell when the feast was to begin in the Great Hall because the sounds echoing from the common room slowly quieted as students started heading up. He dog eared the page he was on in reading and shoved it under his mattress carefully, tucking his wand into his pocket and hurrying to keep from being missed at the table. He'd read quite a lot of useful information about how to get into somebody's mind and he was eager to give it a try. Being in the Great Hall would give him quite a lot of minds in close proximity, including Lily Evans'.

The Great Hall was tressed up quite marvelously, the air filled with grinning pumpkin lanterns and black, dripping candles that flickered their lights across the walls. The tables had been covered with orange and black cloths, and snaked along them were decorative cobwebs (with no spiders, of course). Professor Slughorn had brewed a potion that bubbled in the front of the Hall, near to the staff table where he could keep an eye on it, that spread about a scent most pleasant, which conjured the spirit of Halloween festivities deep within one's fibers. Even Severus couldn't help but feel an excited thrill as a waft of it made it's way up his nose. He stared around a moment from the doors, admiring the way the ghosts seemed to be more transparent, nearly fully formed. Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost was floating overhead, talking with the Bloody Baron and the Fat Friar and Severus could easily see the fine details in the lace on the ruff that surrounded Nick's neck stump. It was most impressive.

“Watch out, coming through,” came a voice.

Severus rolled his eyes. Wasn't there any place in the main portion of the castle where he could stop without encountering Sirius, James, and his cronies? he wondered. He was about to posture this question, when he realized that the boys were in such a rush that they hadn't noticed him and, more importantly, directly behind them came Lily. “Happy Halloween,” he said to her the moment she was within ear shot.

Lily turned, looking surprised to hear his voice and a smile spread over her face. “Hello Sev,” she replied. “Happy Halloween.”

“The lanterns are pretty, ey?” he asked, waving a hand up at the floating pumpkin heads and candles, so plentiful that one could scarcely see the enchanted ceiling high above.

“Oh yes,” Lily said. She eyed Severus curiously. “Everything alright?” she asked.

“Of course,” Severus replied, “Why shouldn't it be?”

Lily shrugged, “It's just that you seem… much more up than you usually are,” she answered.

“Up?”

“Yes, like more positive.” When Severus gave her a funny look, she amended, “It's a good thing, Severus.”

“Oh. Well. I dunno. I suppose it's been an alright day is all,” he said.

Lily smiled, “Well, I hope you have more of them.”

Students were streaming in around them, some getting frustrated with the bottle necking that was occurring where they stood, but Lily didn't seem to notice and Snape outright ignored the dirty looks because talking to Lily was more important to him, and in this crowd the Slytherins couldn't see what he was doing so he was safe from being questioned about it later on. Last thing he needed was, just as he was getting his big break to prove himself not the typical half-blood muggle-born sympathizer type, he was caught getting on with a muggle-born.

Lily was different from other muggle-borns, though, he thought.

At some point, she would get a chance to prove that to them and then they'd see and they'd understand and he would be able to talk to her whenever he liked then.

But for now, he was glad for the cover of the crowded room.

“Oi! Lilly!” Derek Bell waved a hand as he walked by, his sister Alice at his side, waving frantically to Lily to come join them.

Lily smiled and waved back, then turned to Severus. “I've got to go, Sev. My friends are here.”

A spark of anger twinged through Severus. My friends, she'd called them, as though he were not a part of that category. But he quickly shook it off. That wasn't what she had meant at all, he told himself, she just meant that Alice and Derek were friends with her, and not with him. Not that he wasn't her friend, but that they were not his. Which was fair by him, the Bells had plenty of muggle blood in their veins.

“Enjoy the feast,” Severus told her.

Lily's eyes twinkled in that way that seemed to send jolts right to his toes. “Thanks, Sev. You, too!” She petted his shoulder and rushed away, running to where Derek and Alice were standing, still waving for her.

Severus jostled his way through the crowd to the Slytherin table, where he found a seat as far away from Lucius Malfoy as he could, where the other, larger students, like Alistor Mulciber and Germaine Avery, blocked Lucius's view of him. He looked over at the Gryffindor table, where Lily was now seated with Alice, Derek, and some other second years named Frank Longbottom and Marlene McKinnon. Lily was smiling still, her bright green eyes and her pretty red hair was easy to see, even from way across the Great Hall. Not for the first time, Severus wished he could sit with her and, with a glance down each way of the Slytherin table, wondered if he didn't wish he'd been sorted differently. After all, what exactly did Slytherin offer him?

Everything, he found his mind reminding him. Being in Slytherin was everything. It was important to be friends with these people, these powerful people whose lives were bound for greatness with the rising of the Dark Lord. These clean, pureblood witches and wizards, whose veins did not carry foulness, but exuded nobility. It was here, in the Slytherin house, that he would find the way to overcome his horrible father's contribution to his existence, where he would undo the marring that his mother had done and reclaim the nobility that he should have been born with, as a cousin to the noble houses of both Black and Malfoy. Being a half-blood Prince would only mean something if he could salvage the name, and that could only come to fruition here, in Slytherin.

Besides, he had far more important things to think on than whatever was making Lily laugh and smile over at the Gryffindor table, he remembered. He needed to work on this legilimency stuff before something more came of all the questions Lucius had been asking back in his dormitory. He needed to learn how to use the talent to hear people's thoughts – on purpose – and learn how to guard his own even more securely than he already could.

According to the book he had been reading, it was best to practice on people that one knew very well in order to be able to gain access to their minds more easily because their thoughts were familiar to your own usually and would be easy to pick up on if you were thinking similar things. The only person in the entire Great Hall that thought like him, he believed, was Lily. Lily had told him once that she didn't particularly like the idea of him prodding about her head, but it was important he learn. Surely, she would understand if he'd told her the whole story about Lucius and the Dark Lord in the floo and everything. But he hadn't really dared to tell her that stuff because he was afraid that she might tell someone else about it, being as she was in a different house and everything now, who knew where her loyalties might lie in conjunction with the Dark Lord. Once upon a time, when they'd been best mates and seen each other every day, it would've been easy for Severus to tell her about it. He could have made her understand that the Dark Lord wasn't as horrible as everyone made him out to be and that his intentions for the wizarding race were good, not evil, which she'd certainly been told by those prats in Gryffindor. And, besides, Lily was easy to focus on which, he thought, should make it easier to pick up on her mind, even across the vast distance between them.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out all the noise of the room to concentrate on silencing his mind, as he had done earlier, but also thinking hard about Lily and trying to connect his thoughts to hers, to read her mind. It was like trying to tune a radio in on a particularly static-filled channel, or reading by a severely flickering lantern. He concentrated all the harder, listening for something that felt familiar.

And then, to his very great surprise, something happened.

Pictures filled his mind. Pictures that were not his own. Thoughts he had not thunk.

Thoughts, he realized, startled, not from Lily Evans but about Lily Evans.

Very familiar thoughts about her.

Beautiful. She's beautiful. She hates me. Can't blame her, I suppose... Flashes of the memory of Lily on a broom, of the way her hair sailed behind her as she flew, calling instructions to Peter Pettigrew… Always so kind to others. Hates me. Wish I'd done better at it when I first met her… We got on alright at first, when we were alone on the Express. What I wouldn't do to get my hands on a Time Turner and make it right that day...

Severus opened his eyes and looked along the Gryffindor table, trying to spot whose mind it was he'd gotten into instead of Lily Evans'… whose thoughts were so similar to his that he'd easily heard them like that. To his astonishment, and horror, his eyes fell on James Potter – who was staring down the table at Lily as Sirius, Lupin, and Peter seemed deep in conversation around him. James Potter? Severus felt his insides churn with disappointment and anger. First of all, of all the people in the Great Hall, the first whose mind he had ever read had to be James Potter's? It couldn't have been some stray Ravenclaw's or something. Not even one of the weak-minded Hufflepuffs! No, of everyone in the Hall, it had to be Potter. And while he was thinking about Lily, no less!

The thought of James Potter fancying Lily - his Lily – made Snape's blood boil within his veins and he clenched his fists under the table in frustration. He wanted to march over there right that very moment and punch James Potter right in his smug, arrogant face. He wanted to shout “you can't ever have her” to him, and forbid him from ever letting her name cross the threshold of his filthy, blood-traitor mind again.

Severus was so caught up in the moment, that he didn't even notice the headmaster had stood up at his place in the center of the staff table and cleared his throat. He noticed once the hall fell into a hushed silence, though, and looked up at Dumbledore. “Happiest of Halloweens, students!” Dumbledore said with a wide smile that seemed to glow beneath his auburn beard. “Tonight, we feast with the living and recall the dead, whose spirits live on, reminding us of the shortness of time which we are bequeathed upon this earth,” he said, looking about the room. The ghosts clapped cordially from their places, floating above the house tables. “Let us lay aside our differences.” He smiled and raised a goblet of mead to the students. “Trick or treat,” he called instead of cheers.

“Trick or treat!” The students echoed.

And, as if in reply, the table burst forth with a most impressive assortment of dishes, steam rising up from them to twist and turn it's way into their noses.

But, even as the students all over the Hall dug in, grasping great pieces of cake or chicken legs from the various platters before them, Severus couldn't tear his glaring eyes from James Potter, who grinned as he piled his plate high with mashed potatoes and laughed at something Sirius Black had just said.

Midnight Mapping (Padfoot)


As though the weather was waiting for Halloween to be over to begin it's assault on the castle, the boys woke up on November 1 to find the grounds of Hogwarts had been coated overnight with a light dusting of snow. Not even enough to fully cover the grass. They agreed that, after double Defense, they'd go outside during their break for lunch and have a snowball fight. But by the time Defense was over, the snow had melted in the afternoon sun. “Bloody classes,” complained James, shoving his glasses up his nose with a frown of disappointment. “Always sapping off the fun of things, aren't they?” Even as they trooped across the grounds after lunch, headed for the Herbology greenhouses, they still didn't find enough snow for a fight, though Sirius did manage to scrape up just enough to throw a dirty ball the size of a bludger at Peter Pettigrew, who danced about as some of the snow broke apart and slipped down the back of his robes.

“We ought to sneak out of the common room tonight and see if we can't add to our map,” suggested Sirius quietly as they worked on extracting Bubotuber pus. He looked 'round at the others with an eager grin.

“Yeah,” agreed James, “I'm telling you, there's got to be more to the Third Floor. We never did find a corridor that connected through the center, like it seems Filch sometimes uses. There has to be some door or turn we've missed.”

Remus stared very hard at the Bubotubers. “Maybe we shouldn't be going out in the night at all,” he said.

“Afraid of Filch then, are you?” Sirius demanded.

Remus shook his head, “No, I just don't think it's a very wise idea. You and James have had enough detentions already and Merlin knows what'll happen if McGonagall catches you two out of the dormitory in the middle of the night.”

James shrugged, “So we get a detention from her and a couple points taken off Gryffindor. What we're working for is for the benefit of generations of future Gryffindors!” he said heartily. “It's worth a couple points!”

Remus shrugged, “I just don't think it's a very good idea, that's all.”

“So stay in the dormitory then,” Sirius said.

Remus didn't reply.

Peter spoke up instead, obviously seeing his opportunity to be more favored than Remus for once. “I don't think it's such a terrible idea,” he said, glancing at Remus with a sort of apologetic look, before giving Sirius and James one of a rebellious nature.

“Well, good, then,” said Sirius, thinking having Peter along could make for an excellent scape goat, should they need to make a quick escape. “You come along and Remus can stay in the Gryffindor common room like a prat.”

“I'm not a prat,” Remus said hotly, “I just don't fancy breaking the rules and ending up expelled!” he glowered down at the Bubotubers and when the bell rang signaling the end of the class, he got up and huffed away, leaving the other three behind as he rushed on out of the green houses.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “When did Remus get to be so uptight anyway?” he asked James as they brought the jar of pus they'd extracted up to Professor Viridi's desk amongst a throng of Hufflepuffs.

“Dunno,” James answered with a shrug.

When they got up to the common room, Remus wasn't anywhere to be found and Sirius figured he'd stormed off to brood some place alone. He grabbed hold of the roll of parchments they'd been using for the map, a new sheet for each floor, and started cutting a new sheet to the same measurements as the others for the next floor for their venture out into the halls that night. Meanwhile, James and Peter got a bit of homework done before supper.

Remus never showed up to supper.

“He's gone and disappeared again,” James whispered to Sirius.

Sirius nodded, thinking. Disappeared again, for the – what? The third time now since the start of term? What on earth could possibly be going on at home that would draw him away three times in as many months? He rubbed his chin, leaning his elbow on the edge of the table. Three times in three months… He wrecked his memory trying to recall if the dates when Remus had been absent were the same each month, but no, they couldn't have been, as this was November 1 and on September 1 they'd been on the Hogwarts Express together. It had been a few days into the term before Remus went missing. And again in October… slightly less than a full month ago… but there did seem to be some sort of pattern to it.

“Oi, Sirius, are you with us, mate?” James asked, kicking his friend in the knee.

“Huh?” Sirius shook out of his head and looked over at James and Peter, who were sitting opposite him at the table. Peter laughed. “Sorry, was thinking.”

“Is it that unusual that you're thinking that it's so noticeable, then?” James teased.

“Imagine what it'd be like if you were thinking,” Sirius replied back with a smirk, “All of England would have a holiday in honor of the rare occasion.”

“A proper bank holiday, even?” James questioned with a grin.

“Of course,” Sirius replied, “Even the goblins would take a day off. Or else they'd all drop dead from the shock of it when they heard the news that your gears were grinding in there.”

The two boys laughed while Peter ate a carrot, quite left out of their jeering fun, before finally interrupting their giggles, “So when are we going to – you know --” he glanced about to be sure none of the other Gryffindors were listening, “Go and work on the map?” he asked.

“Tonight,” Sirius replied, “Maybe 'round midnight or so?”

James nodded, “Brilliant.”

“Are we really not going to bring along Remus?” Peter asked.

“If Remus is 'round we'll ask him of course,” James answered, at the same time as Sirius confirmed, “Let the prat stay in the dorms!” James frowned at Sirius. “It's his map, too,” he said.

“But if he's so afraid of a detention --”

“He's just worried about his grades,” replied James with a wave of his hand, “You know Lupin, he's worried about things like that. Deep down, he's our kind of guy, just a bit more cautious. Bet his folks make a big deal about his grades or something. His mum's a muggle, isn't she? Muggles put a lot of stock in grades and the like.”

Peter nodded, “They do. It's true.”

Sirius laughed, “Why on earth would they? If you can do the magic in the end, who cares how quickly you caught on? I mean, that's all a grade really signifies, isn't it?”

James shrugged, “I suppose it shows how well you listen and maybe catching on quick is a part because – I don't know – adapting to situations or, or something.”

“Well we've plenty of time to worry about grades when we're older,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Not as if we're being made to choose careers and take OWLs this year. Might as well have a bit of fun before we get on taking things seriously.” He grabbed a piece of treacle tart. “Besides, I don't know, there's something else funny about Remus.”

“Something else funny?” James asked around a bite of pork.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied.

“Like what?” Peter asked.

“Like this disappearing bit he does every month,” Sirius replied. “Where's he go?”

James was cutting his chops up into little bites. “He went home he said.”

“But why?”

“Family emergency,” James answered. “Remember?”

“Once a month?” Sirius challenged.

Peter was nibbling at an ear of corn. “Maybe he has a standing dentist appointment.” Both James and Sirius looked at him with raised eyebrows. Peter swallowed hard and turned red, “It was just a suggestion,” he said.

“Every month since the start of term,” Sirius emphasized his last point, as though Peter's dentist suggestion hadn't even been brought up. “For several days at a time each time. And none of the teachers acknowledge it. None of them ask us where he's at. None of them scold him next time they see him. By now, Dumbledore himself should've been involved. Remus should've been expelled or something by now. Something's going on.”

James shrugged, “Whatever it is, he doesn't want us to know about it or he would've told us.”

“Well I want to know,” Sirius said. “Remus calls us his friends and yet he's got some great deal to get himself out of having to sit through History of Magic with Binns or that blast Potions class. He needs to let us in on his secret to getting out of classes.”

That night, the boys went up to their tower dormitory early in hopes that the other Gryffindors would follow suit so that they could get out of the common room with most of the night to map the corridors below. Bilius and Derek sat up in the common room for some time, though, going over new Quidditch strategies by the fireplace. It was nearly one o'clock before they carried their parchments up to the sixth years' dormitories and cleared the way for Sirius, James, and Peter to sneak out through the portrait hole.

“This way,” Sirius said, and he led them down some of the moving staircases to the lower levels of the castle, headed for the fourth floor, where they could begin mapping out the new territory. There were no signs of Filch or Mrs. Norris and for that they were all quite thankful. After all, the less obstacles they faced, the better.

They reached the fourth floor without any trouble at all, and quickly located an empty classroom to lay out their parchments and draw in the way they'd just come, turning the page to line up with the one they'd drawn for the third floor so that the stair cases were where they ought to be. They'd just finished getting the parchment prepared and were about to strike out into the halls again when they heard an echoing voice in the hallway.

James's eyes were wide, “Dumbledore,” he hissed.

The boys quickly darted back into the classroom, where James and Peter ducked into a supply closet at the far side, but Sirius dropped his wand and had to double back. He'd only just gotten through the door and pressed his back to the wall before Dumbledore's footsteps were too close to chance moving again, lest he be heard, so he stayed very still.

There were two voices, he realized, as they came closer. The not-Dumbledore voice was speaking and he realized with a jolt that he knew that voice. Knew it very well. It was Remus! “It's very lonesome during the days, when I'm not – you know.” He paused and Sirius heard them come to a stop. “There's no one to talk to. I miss my friends.” Remus sighed.

“I'm very sorry to hear of that,” Dumbledore said sadly. “It's quite a challenge, being alone, one which I myself suffer with quite frequently.” He paused. “I wish that I could help, that there was a way to keep you from having to be so very alone, but for the safety of the others...”

“I understand,” Remus said.

“Professor Slughorn is working very hard with many prominent potion masters all over the world, trying to find an antidote,” Dumbledore added. “One day, we hope to end all of the suffering that those with your condition must endure.”

Remus sighed, “Wish we had it now.”

“As do I, my boy,” Dumbledore agreed. He sighed, too. “I do wish there was more I could do to help you.”

Remus said, “Well. It would help if you could tell me what to tell my friends. They keep asking after me whenever I go – and, well, I think they're getting suspicious.”

“As good friends tend to do,” Dumbledore replied.

“What should I tell them?” Remus asked.

Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment and Sirius felt strangely as though Dumbledore somehow was aware that he was there, just behind the wall, but he didn't know why he thought so. Sirius held his breath.

“Tell them only what they need to know,” Dumbledore answered. “Only what you trust them with.”

“Yes, sir,” Remus answered.

“Now come, we must get you downstairs,” Dumbledore said, and the sounds of their footsteps echoed on down the hallway, fading the further away they got, until finally they were gone and Sirius finally let out a gasp for air, filling his lungs fully.

“You can come out now,” he called to James and Peter, who came spilling from the cupboard, the map parchment in hand.

“That was close,” Peter said, wringing his hands, “Maybe Remus was right. Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

James rolled his eyes, “First sign of trouble and this one wants to go back to the common room. Don't be such a sissy, Peter.” He turned to Sirius, “What in bloody hell was Dumbledore doing roaming 'round the corridors at this hour?” he asked.

“Don't know,” lied Sirius.

James was still dusting off for the cupboard had been quite stuffed with old fur jackets that had been collecting dust for eons it seemed. “Well – Blimey!” he complained, frowning.

Sirius glanced at the hall. “You know, I think we really ought to go back up to the common room,” he said.

James looked surprised, “What? Why? We were going to map.”

“I know,” Sirius said, thinking of how sad Remus had sounded, saying he missed his friends. “But maybe we ought to wait until Remus is back. I feel bad leaving him out of it, even if he was being a prat about it. I mean, you're right, it's his map, too. It's not right working on it without him. Besides, look at that shoddy staircase we drew. Remus is much better at the drawing parts than we are. That looks awful, that staircase does.”

Squinting at Sirius, James had a feeling there was more to Sirius's sudden change of heart than he was letting on. Sirius glanced at Peter, then back to James, trying to send him the message that he'd tell him more about what was going on once Peter was asleep back in the dormitory. “Alright, fine, let's go back to the common room, then.”

“How come he's not a sissy for wanting to go back to the common room?” demanded Peter as Sirius ducked his head out of the classroom to look both ways and listen for Filch or his cat.

“Dunno,” replied James as they followed Sirius along the corridor, back to the staircases.

Peter sighed as they climbed the stairs, “Sometimes I don't feel like you like me as much as you like each other or Remus,” he complained.

James looked up at Sirius for help in bridging the awkward moment. Peter was right, of course, but James was fairly certain being honest was not the best policy at that moment. “We like you plenty,” replied Sirius, “Don't worry about it so much. You just over think it, that's your problem. Just believe us we like you and leave it at that.”

Peter nodded slowly.

Back in the common room, Sirius and James laid silent in their beds until Peter had fallen asleep and his snores filled the dormitory before Sirius quietly snuck out of bed and led the way past the other years' doors and the two boys sat near to the fireplace, huddled together. “So what really went on?” James asked, voice in a hushed whisper, “What made you decide to turn back?”

“Remus was with Dumbledore,” whispered Sirius. “Dumbledore and him were talking. Wherever Remus is going, he's going alone and he says he misses us while he's gone, but Dumbledore said that it couldn't be helped for our safety.”

James looked confused, “For our safety? What's that mean, ey?”

“I dunno,” answered Sirius. “But whatever it is, it's got to do with why Remus has been disappearing. And Dumbledore's the reason why Remus hasn't been telling us. He asked Dumbledore what he ought to be saying to us to make us stop asking him where he's gone and Dumbledore told him to tell us what we need to know.”

The confusion on James's face only deepened. “That's weird,” he said. “Why would Dumbledore want Remus to keep it a secret where he's going every month?”

“I don't know,” Sirius replied.

“And for our safety, too,” James mused.

“Strange, the lot of it,” Sirius agreed. “None of it makes sense.”

“None of it,” James confirmed.

Sirius said, “Anyway, I felt like a bugger going on and mapping without him, when he's missing us and all.”

“Don't blame you,” James said.

“But I'm bloody well going to keep asking him about where he goes,” Sirius added, “I don't care if he has Dumbledore telling him not to. If we keep asking him, eventually he's bound to crack and tell us, right? If he's really our friend he'll trust us not to tell anyone 'bout it.”

James glanced back toward the staircase to the dormitories. “Maybe he's not told us because of Peter,” he whispered even quieter than before.

“Because of Peter?” asked Sirius.

“Yeah. You know, because Peter's always there. Maybe Remus only wants to tell us, you and me. I mean… maybe he doesn't trust Peter.”

“Maybe he doesn't trust us,” Sirius countered.

“Maybe we ought to show him he can,” James suggested.

“How?” Sirius asked.

James shrugged.

Sirius thought for a few moments, but nothing came to him – no great inspirations. He looked at James. “You know, if I had a big secret, I would tell you first thing.”

“I'd tell you, too,” James agreed, “You're my best mate.”

“Mine, too,” Sirius answered.

There was an awkward moment in which neither of them really knew what to say next, now that their great declaration of friendship had been made. They shifted uncomfortably.

“Anyway,” muttered James, “We better be going back to bed. There's Charms first thing.”

“Right,” Sirius agreed, “But we can have a nap in History after at least.”

James laughed, “Of course. What else is there to do while Binns is going on about Goblin Wars?”

The two boys went back up to the dormitories and climbed into bed, neither aware that Peter Pettigrew had awakened and found their beds empty and knew that they'd gone off to talk without him.

An Invasion of Privacy (Lily)


Remus was missing once again.

Lily stared at his empty place in Charms the next morning and once again found herself wondering why Professor Flitwick wasn't addressing the fact that one-fifth of his First Year Gryffindor class was missing. After that great production of a speech he'd made the first day of term about the Gryffindor class being such a small one that not a single mite of mischevious activity would get by him, it seemed most unusual to Lily that he really didn't notice Remus's absence. Clearly, then, by deduction, Flitwick was aware of the missing student and simply not calling attention to his skivving off.

Lily looked over at Sirius and James, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. There was obviously more to this disappearance thing than anyone was letting on and she was quite tired of guarding the secret as Dumbledore had requested without a good reason why. Last they'd spoken about it, the boys hadn't known much of anything about Remus's disappearances, but perhaps they'd learned something more in the mean time? ...a girl could hope.

When Charms let out, Lily rushed into the hall to catch James's arm by his robes and bring him to a stop. “Where's Remus?” she asked.

James shrugged, “Dunno, do we?” he said, “Not anymore than you do.”

“Didn't he tell you?” Lily pressed, “Didn't you all ask him last time?”

James's face was blank with a clueless expression. “Well of course we asked him,” he said defensively.

“Well, what did he say?” Lily asked pointedly.

“Said to stop being a nosey git,” Sirius said, appearing out of no where at James's side, intervening before James could answer.

“You stay out of this,” she said, “I'm having a conversation with James, not with you.”

Sirius grinned. “Oh, I see.” He nudged James, “Look at that, James, you arent't even on the Quidditch team yet and she's already changed her tune about fancying you.” He winked.

“Ugh!” Lily dropped James's arm, which she'd forgotten altogether that she'd been holding at all, and pushed by him and Sirius, “Nevermind,” she said, “I don't care about Remus Lupin enough to sit here and listen to your nonsense and wishful thinking.” She stomped off down the corridor, leaving them behind.

She only just barely heard James ask, “What'd you go and do that for?”

A few moments later, and two floors up from the Charms corridor, on her way to Transfiguration, Lily was still infuriated by the boys and reciting to herself all the nasty things she should've/could've/would've said if she'd only had a moment longer to think... She heard a low whistle and her name hissed. “Psst... Psst! Lily!” She turned to find Severus peeking out from a boys' toilet. She paused, glancing behind her to be sure the other First Year Gryffindors weren't right behind her, and walked over.

“Sev, what are you doing?” she asked.

He beckoned her into the toilet and she stepped inside timidly with a couple more glances behind her. The moment she stepped into the room, Severus pushed the door closed behind her quite hard and pressed his back to it, wedging his sneaker against the frame to keep it closed should someone try and come in. “I need to talk to you,” he said, still hushed, as though he thought someone might be listening in. “It's very important.”

“Well I'm on my way to Transfiguration,” she explained, “I can't really talk right now. McGonagall hates when we're late to class and -”

“Lily, I did it,” he breathed.

Despite herself, despite her need to get to class, Lily found she couldn't help but be utterly transfixed. “You did?” she whispered back. Something about the announcement that he'd successfully read somebody's brains seemed to call for the lowered tones. “Seriously?”

Severus nodded, “Yes. Last night. In the Great Hall.”

Lily stepped toward him, excitement thrilling through her. “How?”

“Well, just by reading the books and really concentrating hard, I suppose,” he said.

“Whose mind was it?” she asked nervously, hoping it wasn't her own.

“Some Hufflepuff's,” Severus lied.

Lily at once breathed a sigh of relief. She turned away from Severus and paced, “That's incredible,” she said, admirably. She paused, then, and turned to look at him. “You must be really excited.”

“I am,” he agreed, nodding. “Lily, you know what it means, don't you? It means we can do anything!”

She raised an eyebrow, “Do anything?”

“Well with an ability like this – being able to control it and read people's minds as I want – it could make me quite… quite powerful,” Severus said. “I could use it, you know, as leverage. The things I know from hearing people's minds. People will do anything to keep their secrets.”

Lily thought about what he was suggesting for a moment, imagined a mighty and powerful version of Severus Snape, like a ruler, standing a top of mountainous peak, a self-proclaimed god, the gateway to all the secrets in the world… “That doesn't sound very noble,” she said, “Not like a good sort of powerful. The bad sort. Like Hitler or somebody.”

Severus looked taken aback by the comment. “What?”

“Using people's thoughts against themselves as a weapon,” she said, “It isn't very nice, is it? Nor is it fair. It's… it's an invasion of privacy, really.”

“I'm not talking about using it against good people, Lily,” Severus argued, “Just against bad people. They have it coming anyways, if they're going to think terrible thoughts, then they should have to answer for them, shouldn't they?”

Lily shook her head, “Haven't you ever had a terrible thought before, Sev? Something you wouldn't want anybody at all in the world to know about? Something very, very private?” She looked at him with pleading eyes, wanting so badly for him to understand what she as saying. It seemed so very basic a right – having one's own mind and the things that one thought in it to oneself. Why couldn't Severus understand how awful it would be to invade someone's thoughts and then use what you found out against them?

He shrugged, “Sure I have. Everyone has, haven't they?” he asked. “But that's exactly my point. I'd do anything to keep my darkest thoughts a secret, and so wouldn't anyone else. Lily, that's where the power comes from, don't you see? Because if we know a really powerful person's darkest secrets then we have control over them and --”

Lily shook her head.

“What?” Severus asked.

“It sounds like a rubbish way to be, that's all,” Lily answered. “If you're powerful, it should be because people under you trust you to lead, trust you to keep them safe. Who wants someone leading who's just a sneak under it all?” She looked directly into Severus's eyes. “Sev, you're better than that, I know you are.”

Severus didn't know what to say. He leaned against one of the sinks and stared at the hardware.

“I've got to go to Transfiguration,” Lily said quietly. She touched Severus's arm. “Promise me you'll really think about how you want to use your ability before you go using it in the wrong way. Promise me you won't go seeking power in the wrong places, in the wrong ways.” Her green eyes were wide and bright and impossible to refuse.

“Promise,” Severus mumbled.

“Thank you, Sev,” Lily replied. She smiled, “Now get on to class or wherever you're supposed to be!” Her voice was playfully scolding.

“I'm on free period,” Severus answered. “Good luck with McGonagall. Sorry I kept you late.”

“Bye, Sev.”

“Bye.”

Lily rushed out of the boy's toilet, checking to be sure nobody was in the corridor before she stepped outside, and ran out to the Transfiguration classroom. The door was closed, and she hesitated outside, wondering if she ought not to just skive off the whole lesson, but she remembered that McGonagall had said today would be an important lesson, and she took a deep breath and pushed her way in.

The moment the door opened, McGonagall stopped talking, mid-sentence, pointing her wand at a diagram of a conch shell on the blackboard. She lowered her wand and held it in her palm, watching as Lily walked between the mostly vacant desks to her usual seat in the front and sank into place. She felt Sirius, James, and Peter's eyes on her as well.

“Well, Miss. Evans,” said McGonagall, her Scottish accent particularly sharp today, “I am very pleased that you have finally chosen to join us in this classroom.”

Lily felt her cheeks turn red.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Tardies do call for detention, Miss. Evans, and so I shall be spending some time with you on Saturday next, five o'clock, my office...” Having doled out the punishment for the crime, McGonagall turned back to the black board.

Lily looked around again to confirm that Remus had not magically appeared and then she asked, “Well hold on now… Why do I get a detention for being tardy when Remus Lupin isn't even here at all? When's his detention?”

McGonagall turned slowly back to face the room. “Mr. Lupin's punishments are none of your concern, Miss. Evans,” she replied.

“Well I'm just confused, I suppose you could say, that Remus Lupin is absent multiple times since the start of term – in more than one class, mind you! - and I've never once heard of him having served a detention. Me, I'm late by a couple minutes just once and I get sentenced a detention? How is that justice?” she eyed Professor McGonagall with scrutiny. “It isn't fair.”

“Again, Miss. Evans, Mr. Lupin's punishments are of none of your concern, and I recommend, unless you wish to have a second detention, that you let it go.”

Lily wasn't pleased, but she did let it go – for now – mainly because of the seriousness of Professor McGonagall's eyes as she glowered at Lily from the black board. Sirius and James sniggered under their breath as McGonagall shut Lily's argument down. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat as McGonagall got on with her lesson, but was too angry to hear much of it.

The Moon Sign (Prongs)


Remus still had not returned next night, when the Gryffindors trooped up to the astronomy tower at midnight. Overhead hung the waning moon, filling the sky over Hogwarts castle and casting the blue-white glow that illuminated their telescopes and star charts. Professor Zosma walked between them, helping to adjust their scopes before beginning her lesson, skipping past Lily, whose scope was perfect already. James looked over at her, wondering if he ought to apologize for the way Sirius had snapped at her before, when she'd inquired about Remus. It seemed Lily had been extra quiet and distant from them since then and James didn't like that. He liked the rare times that Lily Evans spoke to him, and when she'd grabbed hold of his robes the day before, outside their Charms class, he'd felt a sort of spark that ran all up and down his arm.

“Tonight, we will be determining your moon signs and learning more about the lunar patterns discovered by Copernicus...” Zosma began, her voice only loud enough so that the four students could hear her. “The position of the moon can greatly tie into your personhood, into your identity… The moon is a very powerful, very strong celestial body… As Hermes Trismegistus said, 'as above, so below'...”

James peered into his telescope at the craters and marks all over the surface of the moon. “Think it's really made of swiss cheese?” he whispered to Sirius.

“Looks more like Snivelly Snape's acne to me,” Sirius whispered back.

James chuckled lightly, glancing at Lily to make sure she hadn't heard the comment before he did.

“...effects our energetic make-up, our personal selves can be identified by our moon signs, just as our more public selves are evident in the sun signs...” Zosma was going on, her voice fading in and out as she walked one end of the tower to the other behind the students.

“You think the muggles really got to the moon?” Sirius asked, adjusting his scope.

“Dad says it was with the help of wizards,” replied James.

“Break into pairs and, using the time of your birth, we will calculate your moon signs and chart them on your personal star charts. For homework, you will write a foot on the comparison of your moon sign and your sun sign, describing in detail why, or why not, you believe the signs fit your personality.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Rubbish. Homework.”

“Peter,” called Lily, “Come work with me.”

Peter looked for a moment at Sirius and James, but they'd already broken off themselves and he frowned, reminded again that he was the third wheel in the group. He went and sat down with Lily.

James sat down in a little patch of light under a torch glowing near to the door that led back into the castle. He pulled his star chart onto his lap and started going through the list of signs for his birthday as Sirius settled in beside him and started doing the same. “Looks like I'm a double Aries,” he laughed, “Will be easy to compare for the homework at least. Says I'm impatient.” He looked over at Sirius. “What's yours, mate?”

“Sagittarius,” Sirius said. “I'm alert and open. Impulsive.”

James was staring down at Sirius's parchment. “You're looking at today's chart,” he said, “You got to look at your birthday.”

“I am looking at my birthday,” Sirius replied, his face reddening.

“OI! Today's been your birthday, then?” James demanded, eyes wide, “Why didn't you tell us? I would've asked Bilius to knick you a cake from the kitchens or something! We would've skivved off classes and done something fun, you prat!”

Sirius shrugged, “Never much done anything for my birthday, really,” he said, “It's not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” James gasped. “Of course it's a big deal. It's the day you was born, innit? You can't just ignore that, it's special!”

“Not in the Black family,” replied Sirius, “We never celebrate birthdays.”

“Well blimey,” said James, shaking his head, “We're celebrating it now.”

“Now it's over,” Sirius answered.

“Bugger on that,” James replied, “We'll celebrate it a day late this year is all.” He shook his head, “Not telling me your birthday; and you dare call me your friend.”

Sirius laughed. “So when is yours, then, if it's so important?”

“27 March,” answered James. “Wonder when Remus's is,” he said, running his finger across the book. “Would be interesting to know all our moon signs, wouldn't it? Wonder if we could guess by the description?”

The two boys spent the rest of the class laughing and making up reasons why different signs fit Remus Lupin, trying to guess his birthday from the signs, while Peter and Lily worked dutifully on their own charts across the rooftop from Sirius and James. When Zosma finally let them off from class, she led them back down through the castle to the Gryffindor common room and deposited them outside the portrait hole.

“Well tonight was interesting,” James said. He glanced at Lily, “What'd your moon sign say?” he asked, trying to be friendly.

Lily replied shortly, “Pisces. Good night.” With that, she trotted on up the steps into the girl's dormitories.

Peter offered, “Mine was Taurus.”

But Sirius and James were already headed up the steps and Peter had to scramble to follow after them. “What were yours?” he asked as he caught up, eager to get them to talk with him again.

“Aries,” James replied boredly. “Found out that today was Sirius's birthday, though. Still can't believe you never told us,” he added.

“I'm Sagittarius and I told you, we don't make a big fuss on it, I didn't think it mattered much,” Sirius said as they were approaching the landing of the first years dorms.

“My mum makes a big deal of my birthday,” said Peter. “Every year.”

“See, even Peter knows birthdays are important,” James said to Sirius. They pushed open the door to their room and stepped inside.

There, in his bed and already asleep, was Remus.

Sirius stopped and the boys crowded around Remus's bed. He was fast asleep, in that exhausted sort of way that one sleeps when they have had a very, very long day, still in his clothes, though they looked dirty and there was a rip in the knee of his slacks. “He's back,” Sirius said.

“Too bad he missed tonight,” Peter said, “That was a very interesting class.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said.

James grinned, “At least he'll get to join in the fun tomorrow, when we celebrate your birthday.”

Sirius smiled, though he continued to stare at Remus's sleeping form as the other boys changed out of their robes and into their pyjamas. He was curled up, his nose nearly touching his knees. Remus twitched as a cloud shifted outside and a beam of moonlight crept through the room, across his sleeping face. His hand moved up and swept over his cheek and the combination of the way he was curled and the way he pawed at his face like that, Sirius was reminded of a dog… and then something was blossoming in Sirius's mind, something he couldn't quite put a finger on, some sort of understanding or idea beginning to form, something he wasn't sure he dare voice aloud. He looked 'round at the other two finally, and Peter was already tucking himself in as James poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door. Sirius took one last look at Remus and moved for his own pyjamas, feeling a bit dazed as the idea coursed through him, facts falling into place like puzzle pieces...

But he couldn't be right… could he?

“So Lily's a Pisces,” James said, the water having reminded him of fish, which had reminded him in turn of Lily's moon sign. He thought about what they'd learned about Pisces in the class they'd done on the sun signs and nodded to himself. It made sense that Lily would be a moon-Pisces. For a fleeting moment, he wished they'd been assigned to compare the signs of others to their personalities because he felt he could write a mile on Lily's attributes. James climbed into bed and stared up at the coverings of his bed, snuggling down into the pillows and the blankets. “Do you think the sun and moon really can tell us a lot about ourselves and other people like Zosma says?” he asked.

“As much as anything else can,” replied Peter.

“I think the moon could maybe tell us a lot about a person,” mumbled Sirius, staring over at Remus in the darkness.

Barking (Moony)


“So how far along did you get with the map the other night?” Remus asked as the four boys collected their things the next morning, preparing to go down to breakfast before classes. He was jamming quills and parchment into his school bag.

“Added a staircase,” answered James, “Then we were interrupted by Dumbledore and decided on coming back to the common room.”

Remus paused, a chill running through him. “By Dumbledore?” he asked, nerves prickling just under his skin, “What on earth was Dumbledore doing up at that hour?” Remus tried to chuckle, but he couldn't quite force it out.

Sirius watched Remus closely, stuffing his own school bag with supplies.

“Beats me,” James answered, “We were in a cupboard, hiding. Couldn't see or hear a thing from in there.”

Remus breathed a sigh of relief. He knew perfectly well, of course, what Dumbledore had been up to and for a fleeting moment he'd feared that his cover had been blown. He snatched his wand from the nightstand.

“Well,” Sirius said, keeping his eyes very carefully adverted from Remus's, “I wasn't in the cupboard myself.”

“That's right,” James said, turning as he looped the knot of his trainers, “Forgot you didn't make it in there. Did you overhear anything?”

Remus's stomach had flipped right over several times.

Sirius looked up and met Remus's eyes for a tense moment. “Not a thing.” He shrugged. “Maybe Dumbledore was just out for a nice walk. In the moonlight.”

Remus felt sick.

“We're going to be late,” Peter advised. He was standing on the stairwell landing just outside the door.

“We're coming, we're coming,” James exclaimed, jumping up and rushing out the door as he slung his bag's strap over his head.

Sirius turned, breaking his eye contact with Remus, and hurried after James, jumping up onto the banister and riding it down to beat him to the bottom. Remus moved slowly, stiffly, his stomach knotted up. “You alright?” Peter asked, “You look pale?”

“Just ducky,” Remus replied.

Did Sirius know? he wondered, or was he messing around with his head? He didn't know how to confirm what Sirius did and did not know without outright asking him and he was afraid to outright ask because, should Sirius not know, asking him would be a sure way to help him along in figuring it out. But why else would he have made such pointed eye contact? Or said the bit about walking in the moonlight for that matter?

Remus was very uneasy and jumpy as a result, which was why he was quite startled when a second year Slytherin girl rapped him on the shoulder during breakfast and jabbed an envelope into his face. “From Professor Slughorn,” she said shortly before leaving without any further explanation.

“What's that?” James asked around a mouth full of french toast dripping with jam and butter.

“Dunno,” Remus replied, ripping it open. He glanced down the table to see Lily was being handed another, identical, envelope by the same Slytherin girl. “Must be something about the Slug Club,” he said dismally.

Sure enough, inside was an invitation to a Christmas party in Professor Slughorn's office, scheduled for the next month, just before the holidays. The invitation described a social atmosphere, to which he was entitled to bring along a guest. He sighed and tucked the envelope and card into his school bag, “Apparently there's going to be a Christmas party and I can bring someone along.”

The other three boys exchanged glances and James quickly put down his fork. “Who're you gonna bring?”

“Trust me, none of you want to go,” Remus said.

“I've never been to a Christmas party,” Sirius commented. “Mother thinks Christmas is a Muggle holiday.”

“Well, really, it is,” James pointed out. “But it's a fun one.” He turned back to Remus. “I heard Gwen Jones has contact with some league Quidditch teams,” he said. “You could really be helping my future career as a Quidditch champion if you bring me along and I could meet her. You said she goes to these things, didn't you?”

Peter started poking at his pudding. “I'd like to go, but you're going to bring one of them,” he said, nodding at James and Sirius.

Remus held up his palms, “Oi. I don't know who I'm going to bring. I've got a whole month to choose. I may not even go at all,” he added, glancing at the dates again and mentally counting through the moon's cycle. But the date would definitely not be interfered with that way. “They're really dull,” he said as explanation for his lack of commitment to the party.

“You'd have to be barking to miss a party, though, right?” Sirius said, a little smirk playing his face.

Remus looked away and said, to his breakfast as much as to Sirius, “Right. Barking.” He shoved a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth quickly as a distraction.

All through classes, Remus worried, stealing peeks over at Sirius, wondering what he should do. He wished Dumbledore had given him a better answer to the whole what do I tell my friends dilemma because he could really have used an excellent excuse about now. Part of him wanted to bring it up himself and divert Sirius's attention by laughing it off, but he wasn't sure he could trust himself to laugh convincingly once Sirius said the words. The only thing that kept him from being positive about whether Sirius knew or not was the fact that, if he did know, then Sirius wasn't bothered by the knowledge that one of his best mates was a werewolf. One would expect that to be a rather jarring thing to learn about a friend.

In flying lessons, Madam Hooch treated them to a surprise for one of their last basic lessons, pairing the lot off into groups of two to toss a ball back and forth to practice dexterity and quick steering. Before James could ask him, or Remus could ask someone else, Sirius called, “Hey. Remus. Pair up, shall we?”

Remus nodded, having expected it a bit, “Alright.”
James looked surprised, though, not to mention a bit less than pleased with being left to pair up with Peter, but Lily had already turned to Severus Snape, who was glowering at James over Lily's turned shoulder. Peter was better than having to work with a Slytherin, he supposed, though only just.

“So,” Sirius said, as Remus followed him across the pitch to the pile of brooms. “How've you been? Feels like we haven't really much time to talk, me and you, since you came back.”

“Been okay,” Remus answered. “Yourself?”

“Alright,” Sirius replied, nodding. He lifted a broom up and inspected it carefully as Remus sifted through a small stack of them for one that wasn't rubbish. “Can't believe it's almost Christmas already,” he mused, flinging the broom over one shoulder, like a miner carrying his pick axe. “You staying here or going home for the holidays?”

Remus had been thinking on the options for some time. “Probably staying here,” he answered.

“Been home enough already this term, 'ey?” Sirius questioned.

Remus shrugged. “How about you? Going home?”

“Probably.” Sirius shrugged. “Would be nice to see my brother at least. Don't know how Mother's going to react, though; still haven't heard from her since I've been sorted Gryffindor.”

Remus was thankful that whatever problems he might face in his life, at least the acceptance of his mum had never been something that he had to question. She'd always embraced him fully, despite the fact that he turned into a literal monster once a month. He couldn't imagine how unsteadying and awful it would be to be always on tenterhooks for approval from parents, as Sirius Black seemed to be. He pitied Sirius for that, really.

They walked back off down the pitch, carrying their brooms and the ball Madam Hooch had given them to play with. Sirius said, “You know. Whatever's going on back home that you keep having to leave for… You can tell me about it if you need to talk to somebody. I'm really good at keeping secrets.” He looked at Remus steadily for a moment. “You can trust me.”

“I know,” Remus answered.

“I'm serious,” Sirius said. “And not just because my name is similar to serious.” He grinned reassuringly and held out Madam Hooch's ball. “Friends are for confiding.”

“I'll keep it in mind,” Remus answered, taking the ball.

“Alright,” Sirius said.

An hour later and the First Years arms and brooms were all tired and they marched off back up to the castle. James had thought it unfair at first that he'd been paired off with Peter for the activity but it had turned out to be quite the opportunity to show off his flying skills as Peter's aim turned out to be absolutely abysmal and James had been forced to dart all over the pitch in an effort to catch the ball each time. Remus was thankful that Sirius was quickly distracted listening to James recap some of his more exciting catches as they walked back up to the castle, but he had a feeling he hadn't heard the end of the questions and still wasn't sure if he thought Sirius knew about his condition or not.

The Slug Club Christmas Party (Severus)


Of all the students in the castle, it turned out that the Slytherin lot actually had the most boring thoughts, which surprised Severus. Several of the boys in the Slytherin house seemed to have no thoughts at all, or at least very few and very dull ones. Severus spent every meal in the Great Hall as an opportunity to practice tuning in to a new mind, getting better at listening in each time he attempted it. He found quickly that the Ravenclaws were always thinking of lessons or logic puzzles in complex and speedy tracks and the Hufflepuffs were often contemplating humanitarian causes or gossip that was passing around the school. He tried to avoid his abilities extending to the Gryffindor table, as most of their thoughts were about Quidditch or else he'd stumble upon James's thoughts about Lily, which was the worst. Hearing James think about Lily was the mental equivalent of stepping into an ice-cold puddle without knowing it was there. But as November got on, Severus got better at blocking out the thoughts he didn't want to hear as well as he was getting on with hearing the ones he did. So far, too, he'd respected Lily's wishes and left her thoughts alone, despite his keen desire to know what she really thought of him.

November meant cold weather rolling in and the wind whistled 'round the turrets of the castle, chilling the Slytherins to the bone when they were up the astronomy tower with Zosma. Severus created a little pile of blue flames to keep warm with as they peered through the telescopes, tracking various constellations and marking them on their charts. By mid-month, the castle had been coated with snow that did not melt as easily as that first dusting had, and the students were spending free periods out on the grounds playing in it. Severus personally hated snow, hated the cold in general, as he'd spent the first ten and a half years of his life living in a dusty, run down old house, freezing all of the time. He used all the time in the empty common room to continue studying up on his ability, afraid everyday that Lucius would return to question him once more.

It was the end of November when Lily sought him out. He was in the library, studying for an essay he was working on writing for Potions, when she suddenly appeared beside him. “I have a question,” she said simply.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Professor Slughorn's got a sort of club,” she explained, “And for some reason he's got me in it and he's given out invitations to a Christmas party and I'm entitled a guest. Do you want to go with me to the party?”

Severus was surprised. “Yeah? You don't want to ask Alice Bell?”

“Well,” Lily said, “If you say no I will, but I thought you might like to come with me.”

“Yes,” Severus said.

Lily smiled, “Okay, then. Smashing.”

“When is it?” Severus asked.

“The night before holiday,” she answered.

“Alright.” Severus nodded.

“While we're at it,” Lily said, “Do you want to share a compartment on the Express going home, too?”

Severus shook his head, “I'm not going home.”

“You aren't?” Lily looked surprised. “Why not?”

“Why would I?” Severus asked, “This place is much better than my house. I'd much rather stay here, where it's warm and there's a load of food, than go home where I can hear my parents shout at one another all holiday long.” He added, “I take it you're going home, then?”

Lily nodded, feeling guilty for her normal, functional family. “I'm hoping I can make up with Tuney over the holiday. We didn't leave things on very good terms before.”

Severus shrugged.

“I know you don't think it's important I make up with her, but she's my twin. It feels very odd being apart from her. We've never really been apart.”

Severus answered, “It's odd that you're such a grand witch when she's a muggle. She must be a squib. Never heard of a muggle-born squib before, but I guess it must be technically possible. I mean, that's how muggle-borns come to be at all, you know, a squib marrying into a muggle family and that recessed gene eventually makes the way forward.”

“So technically, doesn't that make all of my family squibs?” she asked.

“I guess half maybe.”

Lily said, “You know, I'm sure mum and dad would be okay with it if you came and stayed with us for Christmas.”

For a moment, Severus considered the offer. It would be nice to be at a home, or anywhere, really, that Lily was. But he didn't want to intrude and he knew that Petunia wouldn't be open to working on her relationship with Lily if he were there, and Lily was too hopeful about her opportunity to get close with Tuney again for him to sabotage it with his presence. “That's alright,” Severus answered her, “There's a few people from my house that're staying. My friends,” he added.

“Well that's lovely,” Lily answered. She glanced around the library. “Anyway,” she said, “Sorry I bothered you when you weren't alone, I just wanted to extend that party invitation.”

“Thanks,” Severus answered.

“Welcome,” Lily answered.

He watched as she walked away, her long red hair in a braid down her back that swung like a pendulum as she walked. He turned back to the parchment of notes and the open book on the desk before him, but found he couldn't concentrate. After all, he'd basically been asked on a date with Lily Evans. His confidence level soared. Whatever James Potter may be thinking about as he sat there on the Gryffindor benches, it didn't matter. Lily had asked him, Severus, out. Not Potter.





The night of the party seemed to come extremely fast. Severus stood in the Slytherin dormitory toilet, staring in a mirror as he fastened his dress robes, trying to get his hair to do anything besides hang dismally at the sides of his face. He tried to mess it up and get it to look cool, as all the other boys in the school had taken to doing recently, but it just wouldn't do anything except lay flat and heavy atop his head, no matter what he did to it. There had to be a spell for this, he thought, but looking cool wasn't exactly something they taught you in Transfiguration class.

He was supposed to meet Lily in the entrance hall, so he stood at the end of the staircase, nervously staring at his fingers as he waited for her to come down. When he heard footsteps on the stairs, he turned 'round and saw her approaching him, wearing a plaid jumper and a dark green cardigan that complimented the color of her eyes. He smiled as she walked down the steps.

“Hello,” she greeted him. “I'm sorry if this whole party turns out to be really boring. Most Slug Club things are.”

“I like your sweater,” Severus blurted out.

Lily laughed, “Thank you.”

There were more footsteps on the stairs and Severus looked up to see Remus and James coming down the stairs, talking lowly. He stiffened at the sight of them. Lily glanced over her shoulder and saw them, too. She turned back to Severus, “Oh don't bother with them. They aren't going to cause any trouble.”

She'd no sooner got the words out than the two boys reached the bottom of the landing and James gave Severus the once-over, his eyes darting to Lily and back, as though trying to compute that the two of them were, evidently, together. “This your Christmas charity for the season?” James called as him and Remus rounded the corner at the base of the staircase. “Bringing along him?”

Severus felt his face grow hot and Lily turned red, too, and turned to face James. “Shut up, you prat. Like you're one to talk about having to be brought along to this party. You didn't earn your own way, either, did you?” James shut up at that, but Severus had a feeling if he listened in he'd have heard much more on the topic in James's head. He and Lily watched in silence as James and Remus disappeared down the steps to the dungeons off to the Potion Master's office.

When they'd disappeared, Lily turned back to Severus. “Ooh, he's such a git,” she hissed, balling her fists and shaking her head in disapproval. She let out a sigh. “Sorry about them. I hope that's all they get up to. If they bother us at the party, let's leave, alright?”

“Fine by me,” Severus replied. Of course, he would've been just fine with not going to the party at all and using the time to sit alone somewhere in the castle and catch up, like old times, when they'd sat by the river, under their tree, and talked about the magic community and Hogwarts for hours on end. It seemed like so long ago now, those days when spending time with Lily had been Severus's entire world. He smiled tentatively at her, and she smiled back, and they walked on down to Slughorn's party together.

The room was nice, decorated like a rich man's study, and Severus was surprised to realize that he hadn't been in his head of house's office before. Never had a reason, too. The room smelled very good, like all of Severus's favorite things wafting about in the air. He breathed deeply of the scent and murmured, “Wow,” as a house elf, hoisting a platter of hor d'uerves walked by.

“It's rather pretentious,” Lily said apologetically.

“This is nice,” Severus answered, shaking his head.

Professor Slughorn himself spotted them, then, and disengaged from a conversation he seemed to have been having with an older student neither of them recognized, and came over to greet them. “Miss. Evans, I am delighted you've made it, and – why, Master Snape,” he greeted Severus. “Why – I'm surprised – but you must be friends, of course, being partners in Potions, yes.” He smiled widely. “Amazed by Miss. Evans potions skills as I am, 'ey?” He winked indulgently at Severus.

“Oh yeah, of course,” Severus agreed.

“Cannot blame you at all,” Slughorn chuckled. He rocked himself on the ball of his feet and tugged at the hem of his waistcoat proudly. “Well, I'm very pleased you could make it, too, very pleased indeed. You're doing quite well at potions, too, and I've heard some very promising things about your marks in Defense...” Slughorn nodded. “And Master Malfoy has had a lot of very positive remarks about you as well.”

At the mention of Lucius Malfoy, a shiver went up Severus's spine. He hadn't even considered Malfoy when accepting the invitation to this party. Would Malfoy be here? And if he was, what would he have to say about him, Severus, being there with Lily Evans? Lucius had already made it quite plain he didn't approve of Severus hanging around with her at all, not to mention attending an event like Slughorn's party with her.

“It's too bad he couldn't make it tonight,” Slughorn boomed, as though he knew Severus was worried about running into him. “Oh. Excuse me, it looks like Derek Bell's just arrived.”

They stepped out of the way for Slughorn to go greet the newest guests and Severus breathed a sigh of relief that Malfoy was at least one obstacle that he wouldn't need to contend with tonight. But there was plenty others, people who might tell Lucius about him being there with her, and so he knew he needed to make a short time of it at the party and get Lily out of there, some place they could hang out and talk alone before she left for the holidays.

But extricating Lily from the party turned out to be a lot harder than he thought as they moved from cluster to cluster, greeting hello and Happy Christmas to each group as they moved through Slughorn's office slowly. It seemed hours before they'd made their way to the back of the room, standing near by a little buffet table that held all the various trays the house elves weren't carrying throughout the party. Severus got them each a goblet of mulled cider and held one out to Lily.

“Thank you… Actually, first, could you hold it a mo'? I have to run to the loo,” Lily said, leaning in to speak in Severus's ear.

“Yeah,” he answered, “Let me walk you,” he added, thinking this would be the perfect opportunity to get out of the party.

“No, wait here, I'll only be a second,” Lily replied.

Severus frowned, “Alright, then.”

“Brilliant. I'll be right back.” Lily dove into the crowd and he watched as her red hair moved along and out the door.

He stood there awkwardly, looking around and holding two goblets. There were plenty of people he recognized in the room, he realized, and quickly put together that these were all the well-connected people from all of the houses, the ones whose family members he'd heard of for various reasons or who were famuos 'round the school for their skills or excellent grades. There were children of high ranking ministry officials and musicians and Quidditch stars. It was quite an impressive collection and he was quite an unimpressive piece among them.

“Could've at least cleaned your hair for her.” Severus turned to find James Potter at the other end of the table, a little plate in his hand as he plucked lamb kebobs from a platter full of them. “She deserves at least that.”

Severus took a deep breath and, not wanting to draw any attention to himself being there with Lily, he turned away.

“Seriously, Snape,” said James to Severus's back. “Take a shower once in awhile and you wouldn't be so repulsive.”

“Leave me be, Potter,” Severus hissed.

“Not trying to be mean, just being honest,” James shrugged. “I mean even Lily's got to be grossed out by that oil slick you've got on your head. She's just too damn polite to say it. I'm sure she thinks you're right nasty with your hair all parted down the center like that, like a couple of greasy black curtains.”

Severus closed his eyes, counting to ten to keep from reacting.

“Perhaps somebody will give you shampoo for Christmas,” James said and he took a bite off his skewer, smiling 'round the lamb chunks, and walked away. “Then she won't have to be embarrassed by you anymore.”

Severus put down the goblets and walked away from the table. He wanted nothing more than to pull out his wand and send a terrible spell directly to James's heart. He balled his fists and hurried out the door of the party. He was furious, his feet stomping the stone floor. Lily was just coming back down the corridor toward him and her face lit up with concern, “What's the matter?” she asked the moment she saw him. “Sev?”

“Are you embarrassed by me?” he asked.

“Embarrassed by you?” Lily asked, confused.

“Of me and the fact that I'm poor,” he said.

“I don't give a damn if you're poor,” Lily replied, affronted. “What on earth's made you ask this?” she gave him a funny eye.

Severus said flatly, “James Potter.”

“Blast him,” Lily growled. “What did he say? I'll punch him right in the bloody nose!”

“Said you were embarrassed by me,” Severus answered, “Called me repulsive. Said someone ought to give me shampoo for Christmas.”

Lily's anger faltered. Something flickered in her eyes and it made Severus's stomach drop to his toes. He knew if he asked her why she would never tell him and so, instead, he listened to her mind for himself...

She was thinking it wouldn't be such a terrible idea, that he could use some, really, and perhaps now he'd been told he'd change. She was agreeing with James Potter.

His mouth formed a tight line.

“I've got to get back to the dormitories. It's late. You have a Happy Christmas back home with your perfect little muggle family, making right with your muggle sister, and doing all your bloody muggle holiday traditions,” he snapped. He turned on his heels and stormed off down the corridor toward the Slytherin common room.

“Severus, wait,” she called, rushing after him, “Why are you leaving?” She sounded stunned.

“Because, you agree with him,” Severus shouted, voice echoing off the stone of the dungeons.

Lily stopped dead behind him. “You looked into my mind, then, did you?” she demanded.

“So what if I did? Is that why you didn't want me looking in the first place? Because you have all sorts of awful thoughts about me and you didn't want me finding out what you really think of me?” Severus yelled. “That you agree with a great bully like James Potter?”

“Sev --”

“Well go on thinking it then, I don't give a damn what you think!” he shouted, “I don't give a damn about you at all.”

Lily clenched her teeth. “Well… good! Fine, then. I don't care if you do! I don't give a damn about you, either! It isn't as though you've never thought nasty things about me, too, I'm sure. So go think them all in your bloody dorm.”

“I will!” Severus yelled. They were quite far apart by now, down opposite ends of a long corridor.

“Good!” Lily screamed. “And just so you know - everyone is thinking the shampoo thing, not just James and me. Everyone in the school!”

Severus turned the corner and heard her squeal in frustration echoing down the hallway but he didn't turn back. His feelings were too hurt to look her in the eyes.

The Train Home (Lily)


Once she'd had time to blow off steam, Lily felt pretty poorly about the things she'd said to Severus. She wanted to take it back, but she didn't have time to find him – and wouldn't have been able to get into the Slytherin common room even if she had. The students going home for the holiday break had to be down in the entrance hall first thing the next morning and were packed into carriages drawn by invisible horses before even breakfast.

“But I'm starving,” complained Frank Longbottom from behind her and Alice Bell in the line waiting to board the carriages.

Derek Bell poked his stomach with the handle of his broomstick, “Could do with a couple hours starving, couldn't you?” He joked with a smirk. Frank laughed just as heartily as the others in their little cluster.

Bilius cleared his throat, “But don't fear, you won't have to.” He opened his school bag to reveal he'd done a bit of knicking around the kitchens the night before and winked, quickly closing up the bag again before Professor McGonagall could catch sight of it.

“Brilliant!” Derek exclaimed.

A half an hour later, they all piled onto the train and found themselves a compartment. Bilius distributed the treats around and they started snacking as others loaded onto the scarlet red train. Lily couldn't help but peer out the window toward the castle, wondering if Severus was up and if he was still mad at her, if he'd still be mad when she got back from the holiday. She sighed, hating having somebody mad at her. So far, every time she'd been on the Hogwarts Express, she'd had this feeling. The first time she'd worried about Petunia and now Severus.

The thought of Tuney made Lily's stomach flip-flip with nerves. Would Petunia still hate her?

“Hey! Come in and have some snacks!” Bilius called suddenly, waving one of the pumpkin pasties from his bag.

Alice's eyes flashed to Lily, which was what made Lily look up to see who Bilius was calling in, and to her horror it was James and Sirius. Alice looked between the two boys and Lily. As she only other person in the compartment that knew about what had happened the night before at the Slug Club party, only Alice noticed Lily's expression of disapproval. Lily crossed her arms.

“Thanks!” exclaimed James, taking the pumpkin pasty from Bilius. He waved to Derek and smiled at Frank, Alice, and Lily, before sitting down beside Bilius. Sirius joined him. “Think anybody's staying at Hogwarts for holiday?” James asked, “Seems every single compartment on the train is packed!”

“Well Remus is,” Sirius said as he reached for another cake Bilius was holding up.

“And Severus,” offered Lily.

James looked over at her. “Is he?” he asked.

“Is that the Slytherin boy you're mates with?” asked Bilius around a mouthful of cake. “How'd you meet him anyway? It isn't often you see a Slytherin befriend a muggle-born.”

Lily shrugged, “Sev's not a typical Slytherin.”

“Besides, he's half-blood himself, isn't he?” Sirius spoke up. Lily looked at Sirius, expecting him to say something nasty. “It'd be mighty hypocritical of him to go on judging someone by their blood status, being what he is.”

Already on the defense, she demanded, “Being what he is? What's that supposed to mean? Exactly what do you think he is besides a brilliant wizard?” She looked at Sirius with a fire in her eyes.

Alice, Frank, and Derek exchanged amused expressions.

Sirius looked surprised by the venom of her response, “Wel it's just that whole blood status debate all over again, isn't it?” he asked with a shrug.

James smirked at the way Sirius seemed almost timid to reply to Lily's snap. It was rather impressive how quickly Lily had managed to put Sirius into place. As much as he felt sorry for his friend that a girl had jumped down his throat that way, he still couldn't help but admiring the tenacity Lily was displaying. She was a real live wire, he thought, which was something that his father had once said about that sort of person. It was apparently a muggle term, like calling a person electric.

Lily was certainly electric.

“And what's the big deal with blood status?” Lily asked hotly. “Even muggles are people, so why's it gotta be so black and white and separate? It doesn't matter or make any sense at all! I don't really care about who any of your families are; if I like you – or hate you,” she added with a sharp glance at James, “- it's based on you. As a person, on how you treat others.”

Sirius shrugged. “Not all wizarding families agree with you.”

“And not all of them disagree with you, either,” added Bilius. “Look at my family. We're one of the oldest pure-blood families in all the wizarding world and yet we don't give a damn about that blood status rubbish. The Weasley family's always been very open minded about that stuff. As long as you aren't evil, you're welcome with a Weasley.”

Lily waved her hands at Bilius, “See! Now there is logic!”

“None of us are arguing with you,” James pointed out. “Severus is the one who cares about all that, remember?”

“Him and that lot he's been hanging 'round with in Slytherin,” Sirius added. “I know. They're my family. Most of them are my cousins. They're into dark magic and support the Dark Lord. I've heard loads of nasty things about Lucius Malfoy. He's my cousin, you know.”

Lily shook her head, “Well obviously Severus doesn't care.”

“He will if he keeps hanging 'round those people,” Sirius replied. “It's too easy to fall blindly into it. I know. My family kept me blind to it for years.”

“So if your family's so awful, why aren't you like that?” Lily asked.

“I'm a rebel, aren't I?” Sirius asked, puffing up his chest proudly. “I'm only the second in the whole extended family and everything to be sorted outside of Slytherin. First in the Blacks. And to Gryffindor, no less! The ultimate disappointment.” He laughed sarcastically and shook his head with a sigh, “Expect Mother will be waiting at the station with balloons to celebrate my return. I'm sure the whole family's quite proud.”

Lily leaned back, the fight in her taken out by the realization that maybe, as much of a bully as they were, maybe Sirius and James weren't all bad.

Silence filled the compartment.

“So...” Derek Bell said after a few moments of awkwardness, “...It's Christmas.”

“It's here again,” agreed Bilius, nodding.

“Comes a bit faster each year,” Derek said.

“Indeed,” Bilius agreed. He glanced down at the empty bag beside him on the seat, all the sweets he'd knicked from the kitchen gone. “Blimey, we ate all the cakes already!”





At King's Cross station several hours later, the little group shattered into parts as they went to greet their families across the platform. The last to walk away, James and Lily watched Sirius walk dejectedly across the platform towards a dismal looking wizard down the way. James turned to Lily. “Well,” he said, “That's everyone. I hope you have a Happy Christmas.”

“Thanks,” Lily answered. Then, as an afterthought, “You too.”

James nodded. “There's my folks over there,” he said, pointing. “That's my mum with all the kleenex over there.” Lily looked and saw a woman wiping her eyes with a ball of kleenex as she waved frantically to her son. James smiled. “Anyways. You have a good break. See you on the way back.”

“Yeah. See you,” Lily replied.

He winked and turned away. He'd gotten several feet away and she'd picked up her bag and was about to walk away to find her parents in the main hall of King's Cross, when James turned around again, walking backwards away from her. “Hey… Lily… if Severus told you about last night at the party…” he paused, frowning, “Well. Anyways. I'm sorry about it.”

Lily felt a funny twinge roll over her skin, like a warmth from an unexpected source. “I'll make sure he knows,” she said.

“Yeah. Do.” James said.

Lily watched as James rushed off to join his mum, who wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tightly to her chest.

Kreacher's Master (Padfoot)


Orion Black did not greet his son at Platform 9 � with a hug, nor a smile. Not even a hello. When Sirius arrived to his father's side, Orion grabbed hold of his forearm and pulled him into the apparition zone and, using side-along disapparation, brought him home to Number 12, Grimmauld Place without so much as a nod. They apparated on the top step of the front stoop of the house and Sirius looked around while his father unlocked the door. The park opposite was dusted with snow and the lanterns had been decorated with rolls of garland and twinkle lights. The other houses in the cul-de-sac of Grimmauld Place were like Christmas cards, each door sporting an evergreen sprig or a wreath. By comparison, the Black house was dark and just as unwelcoming as his father.

The door opened and Sirius turned to face the dark, musty house. It was cold inside, as it always had been, but now, used to the Hogwarts warmth and light, it seemed so much worse. Sirius stood in the doorway as his father retreated into the depths of the house the instant the front door had slammed shut behind them without ever speaking a word. Sirius rubbed his hands together to generate some warmth and lowered his school bag to the floor.

The house was silent.

Leaving behind his luggage for Kreacher to carry up to his room, Sirius began to climb the stairs. Each step creaked as he made his way upward, a noise that seemed to echo off the walls. He winced with each groan of the wood until he reached the landing outside the library. He paused at the door. “Hullo? Mother?” he called, but there came no answer from within. “It's me… Sirius… I'm home for Christmas.”

He wasn't sure what he'd expected. A ticker tape parade, perhaps, he thought sarcastically.

There was a creak on the steps ahead of him and he turned and found the ugly grey Kreacher standing there, his dirty old rag cloth tied at his shoulder like a toga. The old house elf had hair growing out of his big bat-like ears and his eyes were wide and bulbous. He stared at Sirius, his nose twitching in disapproval.

“You're home.”

Sirius looked up, following the sound of the voice to find Regulus, leaning though the rails of the banister overhead. His hair was messier than it had been back in September – grown out a bit now. Regulus stood up and walked down the steps, coming to a stop beside Kreacher, staring at Sirius with a sort of distrust in his eyes. “She didn't think you'd come.”

“Mother?”

“Yeah.”

“Why wouldn't I come?” Sirius asked, “It's Christmas, of course I'd come.”

Regulus still didn't look sure, but he forced a smile just the same. “So tell me about Hogwarts.”

Sirius grinned, tossing his arm 'round his kid brother's shoulder. “Oh, Reg, it's everything we thought it might be. It's marvelous!” He looked at Kreacher. “Go fetch my bag, elf, and bring it up to my room. We'll be waiting for you there.”

Kreacher hesitated, looking at Regulus, as though asking if he really had to follow the order. Regulus said, “Go on, Kreacher, do as he says.”

“Yes master Regulus,” Kreacher replied obediently, snapping his fingers and disappearing from sight.

Sirius frowned. “What's with Kreacher?”

“What do you mean?” Regulus asked.

“Well you saw him, he wasn't going to listen to me at first just then.”

“He's just fickle is all,” Regulus brushed off the question, following Sirius up the stairs towards the bedroom. “What's the Common Room like?” he asked.

“Warm, much warmer than here,” Sirius answered, “There's a great big fireplace and loads of big puffy armchairs. There's a big painting of Godric Gryffindor over the mantle and --”

“Gryffindor,” snorted Regulus. “So it's true then? You've been sorted to Gryffindor?”

Sirius nodded.

Regulus frowned.

Kreacher had already gotten the bag apparated to the bedroom and had it unzipped, laying on the bed. Sirius reached inside and pulled out a great big red and gold banner with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned on it and quickly hung it up on the wall over his bed. Regulus stared up at it as Sirius continued unpacking a few more of his items, putting them about the room.

“I've met this great friend… James Potter. And there's other boys, too. Remus and Peter and I'm friends with the captain of the Quidditch team, too, Derek Bell and our Prefect, Bilius Weasley --”

Regulus flinched at the name. “Aren't the Weasleys, like, poor or something?”

“I dunno,” Sirius answered. He was fluffing up the pillows at the head of the bed. “But he's brilliant. Last term, he lit a cat's tail on fire with a filibuster firework! Everyone at the school talks about it!”

Regulus barely cracked a smile at the thought of a cat's fiery tail. He was standing at the end of Sirius's bed, hugging the mahogany post, watching his older brother unpack.

“My friends and I are working on this real neat map of the castle,” he said excitedly, “We've been wandering all over, writing down all the landmarks and everything. I reckon by the time you get to Hogwarts, we'll have it finished and you'll be able to use it to get to your classes real easy!” Sirius grinned at Regulus. “I'll help you, of course, too.”

Regulus sat down on a trunk at the foot of Sirius's bed.

“So what've you been up to here?” Sirius asked, realizing he hadn't shut up about Hogwarts yet since Regulus had asked.

Regulus shrugged. “Not a lot,” he answered. “Just… you know, the usual.” He picked at a thread on Sirius's quilt. “Kreacher and I have mostly just hung around the house. Kreacher's main job now is to be my friend. Mother ordered him.”

Perhaps, thought Sirius, that was why Kreacher had hesitated in going to get his bag at the door.

“Does he still always let you win at Exploding Snap?” asked Sirius with a laugh.

Regulus stared up at him and shrugged.

Sirius's laughter died away as Regulus didn't join in. He stood awkwardly alongside his bed and stared at his brother for a moment. Regulus reached out and looked at Sirius's Defense textbok, lifting it up and opening the cover of the old tome. He started flipping through pages, looking at the things that Professor Tutman had been teaching them on – the dark instruments. Sirius watched his brother's eyes skim the pages. Finally, he said, “You know, it's not so bad, Gryffindor.”

Regulus looked up from the book.

Sirius hesitated, but he didn't like the way, in just a few short months, Regulus had changed toward him so much. Back in August, Regulus and him had been best mates, hadn't they? And now Regulus could barely seem to speak a word to him. Was it truly because he'd been sorted Gryffindor that nobody in his family could seem to speak to him properly? He sat down on the bed so him and Regulus were eye-to-eye. “The reason Mother hates Gryffindor so much is because they accept muggle-borns and half-bloods.” He thought of the dispute they'd had on the train with Lily Evans. “And they aren't all bad, you know. Muggles aren't bad. Muggles are just people.”

Regulus blinked up at Sirius and there was a long pause between them as the words Sirius said hung in the air, so thick they were nearly tangible. Finally, Regulus put down the text book and stood up. “Mother was right,” he said, shaking his head.

“Right about what?” Sirius asked, eyebrows narrowing.

“Dumbledore's brainwashed you at that school,” replied Regulus.

“Dumbledore –?” Sirius sputtered, “Brainwashed –? What?”

Regulus paused at the door. Kreacher was simpering at his feet, big eyes staring up at Regulus, awaiting an order eagerly, hovering close to his master's side, ears twitching. “He's got you believing muggles are good, like they aren't trying to take over the magical community, like they haven't been killers for generations, burning witches and wizards for sport and making a joke of our world in theirs. They use us and they kill us and you think that's alright? Like they aren't filthy and full of hatred and evil.” Regulus shook his head. “You ain't the same, Sirius. You're changed.”

Sirius shook his head, “Maybe I've changed, Reg, but it's for the good. I see now, I understand. I've met muggles and muggle-borns and half-bloods. I'm friends with them. They're good people, they're good wizards. The smartest students in my year are a half-blood and a muggle-born,” he added, thinking of Remus and Lily. “Mother is the one who is brainwashing us. Mother is the one who is wrong, not Dumbledore. Dumbledore's the one who's had it right all along. And those books Mother used to make us read, they're wrong, too.” He sprang for his history of magic book and waved it at Regulus, “It's all in here. All of it. Those things happened centuries ago, and they weren't even identifying real witches and wizards! They had the definition of what we are all wrong, that's why they were against us – because they were afraid of what they didn't understand and they got it all wrong.”

“You're all wrong,” Regulus replied. He turned. “Come, Kreacher.”

“Yes, master,” simpered Kreacher, crouching and following alongside his master out the door.

Sirius threw the book at the floor, angry, and not at all satisfied by the sound of the thump of it on the dusty carpet. He swore and stood up, reaching into his bag and pulling out the rest of his things in a temper, his hands shaking with anger. He'd hoped all along that if nobody else accepted him at home, that at least Regulus might. Among his things was the little box he and James had sealed the rouge snitch into that night after Peter Pettigrew had caught it in the dormitories, and he opened the box and stared down at the little gold ball, thinking of James and Remus and Peter and wishing that he were back at Hogwarts with the lot of them instead of stuck here, in Number 12 Grimmauld Place. What a horrible Christmas it was going to be, he thought, as the snitch rose up from the box and began to zoom lazily around his bedroom.

The Silver Cloak (Prongs)


The Potter house was tressed up for Christmas like all the muggle homes on their street. All the way home from King's Cross station, Charlus bragged as he drove along in the muggle car he treasured so, telling James how he'd gotten up in the wee hours of the night and magicked the twinkle lights all along the trim of his house. “All the neighbors are delighted,” he said, “We get comments everyday!” Charlus was grinning, quite proud of his accomplishment as James's mother, Dora, smiled and laughed in all the right places, despite having heard the story about a hundred thousand times already from her excitable husband.

“It's brilliant, Dad,” James said when the old muggle car rolled to a stop and Charlus had waved his wand to turn on the lights for his son to see. “Just like all the muggle houses!”

Charlus beamed with pride.

It had been quiet in the Potter house without James at home and his parents were excited to have him home. That much was obvious if for no other reason than because they seemed to circulate around him, like planets in orbit around the sun. James grinned and told them about the term so far at Hogwarts, telling them all about his friends and the things he was learning in his classes and describing the teachers they hadn't met during their own time at the school. He kept them laughing as they ate the feast that Dora prepared, telling them about the many hi-jinx that had gone on around the halls – being careful, of course, to leave out the fact that it was mostly him and Sirius that was getting up to all the mischief. Though James was fairly certain his dear father would high-five him for the news that his sun was causing laughter and harmless trouble around the school, he wasn't so sure his mum would have the same reaction.

But indeed Charlus's eyes glowed as James spoke, and he leaned back in a nostalgic air as Dora waved her wand, clearing away dishes into the wash tub. “Ah, Dora, love, do you remember our days at ol' Hoggy-warty-Hogwarts?” he asked, grinning.

Dora smiled, “They were the best,” she agreed, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him, fondly remembering the days gone by, the way he'd looked then, the way he'd made her feel…

“What I wouldn't do to be back there with you now,” Charlus mused, “Flying down the pitch, eating those marvelous biscuits those house-elves bake, skivving off Herbology to lie out on the grounds in the sun by the lake, getting lost on those bloody moving stairwells...”

Dora grinned, turning to the wash.

“Well, my friends and I, we've been working on a remedy for those blast staircases,” James boasted. “It's a map of the school and so far it's quite good.”

Charlus looked interested, “A map?”

“Yeah,” James nodded. “We walk about and mark down all the rooms and staircases and all so that it's easier to get around. We've been working at it all term. Ought to take about a century, though, at this rate. We can only work on it during free periods, see, and the halls are crowded then so it's hard to keep updating the map with it so overrun in the corridors.”

“I imagine it would be,” said Charlus.

“It'd be much easier if we could go when there was nobody around, like at night or something,” James lamented, “But old Filch, the caretaker – him and his cat, they seem to get around the castle so fast. It's like they can go through walls or something!”

Charlus glanced over at his wife, to be sure her back was turned, and lowered his voice. “Have you found any of the secret passageways?”

“Secret passageways?” James asked, leaning forward. “Blimey, I knew there had to be other ways around… Filch makes it from one corridor to another like lightening!”

“Well back in my day, Apollyon Pringle --” Charlus stopped suddenly as Dora turned back to them, carrying a plate full of green Christmas fudge. “Well doesn't this look delicious!” he exclaimed loudly, to cover the conversation they'd been carrying, “Thank you, love!”

For the first time in his life, James would've done anything to wait just a little bit longer for his mother's Christmas fudge.





It was three o'clock in the morning when James awoke with a start to find his father shaking him awake gently. Charlus had one finger over his mouth to signal James to be quiet, and waved, beckoning him along. James got up, sliding off the bed and into his slippers, and followed his father out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the basement of their house, where Dora's old potions-making equipment was stored, along with their summer Quidditch supplies, and Charlus's assortment of muggle-befriending accessories, like his fishing poles and golfing clubs. Past all the stuff, in a corner, sat a trunk that James knew well. It was his father's old school trunk.

Charlus sat down in front of the trunk on the floor, put the lantern they'd brought along down on stack of boxes, and took a deep breath, his palms on the lid. “You must solemnly swear to me that you'll never tell your mother about this,” Charlus said. “She would kill me if she knew I gave this to you knowing that you were up to no good.”

James prickled with eagerness. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Swear,” Charlus urged.

“I solemnly swear,” James said with a smile.

Charlus took a deep breath and pushed open the trunk. James hovered excitedly, unable to contain his curiosity as Charlus began to dig through the contents, which James knew all too well. Wizarding photographs and Charlus's old Quidditch robes and dozens of old textbooks. The deeper Charlus dug, the more dust covered the objects he withdrew were. He was unearthing things from the bottom that had not been seen since he'd packed it all away in the dormitory in his Seventh Year. Finally, just when James was sure that whatever Charlus had been looking for was lost, he exclaimed, “There we are!” and, with a flair as though he were presenting James with the entire world, he withdrew a tiny little box.

The box was small enough that it fit on James's outstretched palm. It was the size of a Rubrix puzzle cube. James stared at it for a moment, utterly confused, then looked up at his father's excited face. “What's this then?” he asked, underwhelmed.

Charlus grinned, taking the box back, and put it down on the floor in front of them. He reached down and opened it up… then, much to James's shock and awe, he bent forward and stuck his entire arm down inside the box – an absolutely impossible feat, yet something James was seeing with his very own two eyes. He stared at his father, his jaw dropped, eyes bugged, as Charlus reached around, up to his shoulder in the tiny little box, biting his tongue in concentration as he dug about, searching for something by touch.

“But – but how -” spluttered James, blinking in disbelief.

“Undetectable extension charm,” Charlus explained. “Capacious extremis,” he elaborated. “Make it bigger on the inside, so to say. I could fit loads in here. Came in right handy when I needed to hide things from the staff or from other students. Or your mum. You know, when we were dating, I knew she used to sneak 'round and snoop in my things - she was ruddy good at it, too. When I wanted to surprise her with her wedding ring, I had to hide it in here.” He grinned.

“Wow,” James whispered, still watching as Charlus leaned all the way in, up to his shoulders in the thing, even his head inside now. “So what else is in there, then?” he asked, curious.

“All sorts,” echoed Charlus's voice from within the box.

“Christmas presents?” asked James hopefully.

Charlus laughed. “Better.” And with that, he withdrew himself from inside, pulling with him a shimmery cloak, made of silver fabric that moved like liquid and seemed to reflect the light from the lantern. He grinned up at it as he held it up, waving the dust out of it. “There we are,” he said. “Your grandfather gave this to me when I graduated Hogwarts, and my grandfather gave it to him on his graduation and his grandfather and so forth… generations… centuries.” He smiled, “I was going to wait until your graduation to give it to you but...” Charlus turned to his son and held it out, draped across his arms. “I think it might help you in finishing your map with your friends.” He bit his lips excitedly.

James looked at the shiny material and back to his father. “A cloak might?”

“Not just any cloak, son,” Charlus said. “This cloak.”

Jame couldn't fathom how any cloak could help with getting the map finished, but then Charlus reached over and took the cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders… and disappeared.

“What!?” James gasped in surprise, “But – I - how? Dad?”

Charlus took the cloak back off, draping it again over James's arms. “It's an invisibility cloak,” Charlus told him with a low, reverent voice. “It makes you invisible.”

“Invisible?” James's eyes were wide and excited.

“Nobody can see through it,” Charlus said thickly, “You just put it on and it makes you transparent. You can use it to get 'round the castle without being caught. You know. At night.” He turned a bit pink at the tips of his ears. “Which is why your mother mustn't ever know I've given it to you.”

“This is ruddy amazing,” James said thickly, wrapping the cloak 'round his shoulders and looking at himself disappearing in a mirror in the corner of the basement. “Wow,” he whispered. “We'll be able to get anywhere without old Filch seeing us.” He was imagining all the pranks he and Sirius would pull, thanks to the power the cloak provided. The first prank he'd play with it would be on Sirius himself – thank Merlin he had time to come up with just the right thing before he saw him next! “Oi, Sirius's eyes ought to fall right out of his skull when he finds out about this,” he muttered, excitement touching every nerve of his body.

Charlus said, “Make sure you don't tell just anybody about this. This cloak must remain a secret between you and your closest friends or else the staff might take it away.”

James nodded. “I'll keep it between me, Sirius, Remus, and I guess Peter.”

“Very good,” Charlus said, smiling. “Now you can get that map made!”

“Speaking of,” James said, taking the cloak off and laying it over his arms, “At dinner – you started to say something about secret passages?”

Charlus nodded, “Oh yes. Apollyon Pringle – the care taker when I was at the school – he used to get 'round the school as fast as you say Filch does today. Well, there was a rumor going about back in the day that the reason why was because of a secret map that the caretakers have and pass on generation to generation.”

“A secret map?”

“Yes, of all the passageways. They go all over the castle,” Charlus nodded. “The rumor says they keep it locked up in their office.”

James fingered the silvery material over his arm. “In his office, 'ey?” he asked, envisioning already the daring attempt he and Sirius would be making to retrieve the secret map.

“Yes, the caretaker's office,” Charlus said. “But you don't want to be – uh - seen sneaking in there,” he added… and then he winked.

A Curious Happening (Moony)


Hogwarts was particularly deserted. The Gryffindor common room was silent and the halls were nearly empty. Remus felt like the only person in the castle practically. He sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, at an awkwardly clear Gryffindor house table, a stack of textbooks on the bench beside him where James, Sirius, or Peter usually sat, and watched the cluster of Slytherins across the Hall as they leaned close together, talking in muted voices amongst themselves. Most of the students had gone home for the holidays, leaving behind only thirteen - seven of which were Slytherin. The only other Gryffindor was a fourth year girl who had a boyfriend in the fifth year Ravenclaw house and she'd spent all her time either in the library with him or at the Ravenclaw table, making friends with them, leaving Remus quite alone. Remus hated being alone, it reminded him of his time spent in the Shrieking Shack, missing his friends.

“My, my,” came a voice, “Aren't we studious?”

Remus looked up to find Professor Tutman standing opposite, looking down at the stack of books that towered around him. “Oh. Yeah. Well, all my friends went home for the holiday,” Remus explained with a shrug, “So I thought I'd just keep brushed up, sir.”

“Very good,” Tutman said with a smile.

Somebody cleared their throat from the doorway of the Great Hall and both Tutman and Remus looked over and saw Lucius Malfoy in the frame of the great arched door, peering in their direction before walking swiftly across the Hall to the Slytherin table, where he bent low, talking into the ear of Severus Snape.

“Odd,” Remus commented. “That Malfoy bloke is strange. I'm surprised none of your dark detectors pick up on him. I'll bet he's loaded with dark intentions.” He frowned, thinking of some of the things Sirius had said about Lucius.

Tutman seemed nervous. “Well… I suppose… too many variables...” he murmured. Then, “I'll see you in class, Remus. Keep up the good work studying. I need to go and see Professor Slughorn about… something. Good day.” And off he went, quickly, his robes swishing around his ankles.

“Odd,” he murmured for the second time.

Remus turned back to his books for but a moment because before he had even figured out where his place had been in the book, none other than Horace Slughorn came in the room, nearly walking into Professor Tutman as he crossed the entrance hall, and disappeared through the door to the dungeons, glancing back over his shoulder as he went.

Remus's suspicions rose.

Tutman had not even slowed down to pause when he passed Slughorn.

He'd lied to Remus about where he was going.

But why?

Remus got to his feet, nervous, and tucked his school books into his bag hastily, then rushed after Tutman into the corridor that led down to the dungeons, trying to move lightly to keep his trainers from making a racket on the flagstone steps. He could just see Professor Tutman's robes disappearing around the next bend in the corridors as he rushed past Professor Slughorn's office and the potions storeroom. Remus clutched his book bag to his hip, pausing in the stairwell that led up to the storeroom to watch down the next corridor and catch his breath.

Tutman had come to a stop in front of a doorway, looked both ways (luckily Remus ducked back into the well just before being caught) and then went inside.

Remus's heart was pounding so heavily in his chest that it felt as though it might burst at any moment. He sat down on the step, staring across the dungeon, wondering what on earth that room was. His mind went fleetingly to the map that Sirius had proposed and how nice it would be to know what every room in the castle contained – if that were even possible, given the magical properties of a place like Hogwarts, that is.

One thing was certain, however, and that was that Professor Tutman was someplace that he shouldn't be. He was miles away from the Defense Against the Dark Arts wing, and nobody but Slughorn had offices in the dungeons. The only other thing down here was the Slytherin house common room.

Remus decided to go and see if he could hear anything through the door. He got up and snuck down the corridor, hoping for some clue for what was in there.

“What are you doing down here?”

Remus turned around quickly and found Lucius Malfoy's steel-blue eyes staring down at him quite coldly. Severus Snape was at his side, giving Remus a funny sort of look. Remus looked up at Lucius Malfoy, glowering down at him, and thought quick as he could, reaching into his bag and withdrawing his potions book. “I had a question for Professor Slughorn, if that's quite alright by you.”

Malfoy stared for a long moment at Remus, and Remus hoped against hope that Malfoy hadn't seen Remus see Slughorn enter the Great Hall or else his whole lie would collapse. “So go to his office then,” he said sharply, “We don't want any Gryffindor half-bloods skulking around Slytherin corridors.”

Remus feigned surprise, “Oh. Sorry. I though this was his office. I must be lost. Is this the Slytherin Common Room, then?”

Lucius and Severus answered at exactly the same moment:

“It's a toilet,” said Lucius.

“You're lying,” said Severus.

Remus swallowed back his nerves.

“You know where Slughorn's office is, you were at the Slug Club Christmas Party. I saw you. You brought along Potter.” Severus said Potter with so much contempt that the name sounded like a curse.

“Snooping about, are you?” Malfoy sneered.

“No, no,” Remus replied, shaking his head, “I thought – I thought I saw Slughorn and Tutman… go in this – this door -”

Malfoy stared at Remus.

The door opened and Tutman stepped out and for the split moment that it was opened, Remus saw past Tutman that the room was indeed a toilet. A very nice toilet, indeed. One wall was entirely lined with a mirror and there was a great sunken bath and an ornate sink. Then the door slammed closed.

“Get out of here,” Malfoy snapped. “Stop putting your filthy nose in where it doesn't belong or you'll be bloody sorry.”

Not about to question Malfoy further, Remus ran from the corridor as quickly as he could, his trainers smacking the stone floor and his books thumping against his hip without a mite of hesitation. He rushed up the stairs, through the castle, all the way to the Gryffindor common room, the only place in the whole castle where he was sure they wouldn't follow him. He didn't stop to catch his breath until he was safe, the door locked behind him, in his dormitory, sitting on his bed, hugging his pillow. He panted, his lungs burning.

What had he just witnessed? What was going on? Why was Professor Tutman in that Slytherin toilet? Malfoy had something to do with it, Remus was sure of it, and if Malfoy had, then so had Severus Snape. Maybe there was something to Sirius's issues with Snape, more than Remus had given credit for. He'd always felt a bit bad for Severus whenever Sirius and James started teasing him, but now… Remus wasn't sure what to think. He was so confused, and he wished more than anything else that one of his friends were there to discuss this with him, to help him figure out just what was going on.

When he'd caught his breath a bit better, he got up and went to his desk, pulled a bit of parchment to himself and quickly wrote a letter to James. Of all his friends, James seemed like he would be the best to write to because his parents weren't into dark magic, like Sirius's were and Remus was much closer to James than to Peter, really, and so it was James to whom the note was written.

Something just didn't seem right about it, Remus wrote, his quill scratching the parchment urgently. Tutman never paused at all when he saw Slughorn and then Malfoy and Snape just happen to be in the corridor at that exact time as well… It looked like a prefect's toilet. Why would he be sneaking off to a Slytherin prefect's toilet?

Once he'd finished his note, he rolled it up and sealed it and carried it off to the owlery tower, jumpy at any sound that might be Malfoy or Tutman coming after him. He was glad to find Bubo, James's owl, on a perch among the school owls. He called Bubo down and tied a note to his leg. “Bring this home to James,” he said to the owl. “It's very important.”

Remus stood and watched as Bubo flew off, becoming a dot over the Forbidden Forrest, frustrated that he was alone and having to ponder such a curious happening without any of his mates.

The Reflection in the Mirror (Severus)


Lucius Malfoy's eyes never wavered from Remus until he'd disappeared from the corridors of the dungeons. He waited for the footfalls to fade completely out of range before he turned back to look at Tutman down the length of his long nose through cold, calculating eyes. “Did you get it done?” Malfoy asked.

Tutman nodded shakily, then said, defensively, “I didn't know he was following me.”

“Well. It's very lucky indeed that Severus and I were here to stop him causing too much trouble, isn't it?” he mused quietly. He rubbed his chin and looked down at Severus. “He didn't find out any more than he let on, did he?”

Severus shook his head, though he honestly didn't know because he didn't even know what was going on yet himself, not to mention be able to align his thoughts with Remus's… He still hadn't entirely mastered the ability to read minds, after all, and it was still hard unless he could figure out what the person was thinking before hand. And there had been a curious sort of texture to Remus's thoughts, too, like they were from a different breed or something. Maybe it was just because of how new at it he was, but Severus hadn't been able to hear Remus's mind when he'd tried.

No way was he going to tell Lucius that, though.

Tutman glanced between Severus and Lucius, unsure what was happening, looking nervous, as though he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. “We'll see if the Dark Lord finds you as lucky,” Lucius murmured. The color drained from Tutman's face. Lucius stepped around the Defense teacher and up to the door, mumbling the password - Salazar - and pushed it open.

Severus followed him into the bathroom, and so did Professor Tutman.

Inside was quite dark, lit only by an eerie light cast from low-burning torches in the four corners of the room. Severus's eyes roved about, taking in the deeply excessive grandeur of the bathroom. The sink was shaped like a giant snake holding up a great big silver wash basin, the snake's shape echoed around the room by curling marble statues that lined the walls. An in-ground bath, tinted green by underwater lighting, filled the better part of the room, bubbling with airjets and warm water. The most striking thing about the Prefect's Toilet, however, was the mirror that covered an entire wall. It was an old mirror, one could tell by the way it had a vignette effect due to the fading around the edges.

The room smelled of soap and power.

Lucius stood before the mirror, his eyes drinking in the sight of it. He reached out a palm and touched the glass, a look of hunger filling his expression. “Is there an incantation?” he asked.

Severus looked back at Tutman, who was standing near to the door, which he'd closed behind him, a terrified expression on his face. Tutman replied, “No.”

Turning back to the mirror, Severus was keen to see what exactly they'd gathered there for, to learn what Lucius needed him to come for, what Tutman's part was in all of it. He hadn't a clue. He had been calmly eating when Lucius approached him and brought him down, promising to explain it on the way. So far, nothing had been explained, and Severus didn't dare to ask what was going on, afraid Lucius would realize that he didn't truly have as much control over the occlumency as he'd pretended.

“How does it work?” Lucius asked, staring into the murky mirror.

It was then that Severus realized, as he stared at the mirror trying to figure out what was special about it, he wasn't at all looking at a reflection. Lucius stood before it, touching it, even, but there was no Lucius in the glass. Severus shivered, it was eerie – looking at a reflectionless mirror. He looked at Tutman. The closest to this he'd ever seen was the foeglass that Tutman had shown during class once. In the Slytherin DADA class on the instruments, the foeglass had instantly clouded with so many figures it'd been hard for him to describe exactly what the glass did, Severus remembered. This mirror wasn't crowded with people, though, it was the lack of people within it that made it so unnerving, for there were none where there ought to have been three.

“You look in this one and see what ought to be reflected by his and he looks in his and sees what ought to be reflected in yours,” Tutman explained.

“When who looks in his?” Severus asked, looking from Tutman to Lucius with questioning eyes.

“The Dark Lord,” said Lucius.

Tutman shuddered at the words.

Severus's eyes widened.

Lucius reached for his sleeve and rolled it up, revealing his forearm and the tattoo that was burned onto his skin there. He reached into his robes for his wand. “Let's see how well it works then,” he drawled, and he pressed the wand against the forehead of the black snake, which was weaving out of an evil looking skull in the design of the tattoo. A pained expression took over his face as the dark mark on his arm slowly glowed from black to poison green and seemed to move, like there was something living just beneath the skin at his wrist, writhing and undulating like a true snake. Severus felt his stomach churn at the thought of what it must feel like, and he looked nervously between Lucius Malfoy's arm and the span of dingy mirror before them, waiting for something to happen, the anticipation leaving him breathless and scared.

Tutman looked utterly horrified from where he stood, weak-kneed.

Then the mirror began to change.

Severus realized that the other mirror, the one whose reflection they were seeing, must have been a hand-held mirror for they'd been looking at a ceiling, and now the reflection moved and he could see an old stone fireplace with bright flames roaring within it and dark, snow-covered windows. Then there was a face – a face that Severus recognized from the floo in the Slytherin common room. This time, though, there were details Severus had been unable to discern from the fireplace. The man was older, though not by too much – maybe around Tutman's age – and he had dark, almost black eyes, and a bored sort of expression on his face. He was the sort of person who might have been handsome, but his disposition made it less obvious. He didn't smile at them, did not wave, but kept a very cold, hard stare as he looked 'round at them.

“My Lord,” gasped Lucius, falling to his knees before the mirror, bowing his head low so that his long blonde hair nearly touched the floor before him. Severus followed suit numbly, scared beyond belief, but too scared not to mimic the motion Lucius had done, eager to please the appraising eyes that faced him.

“I am very pleased to see you found it within yourself to help me, Mr. Tutman,” said the Dark Lord, and Severus felt a shiver run through his spine at the sound of his voice. Higher than one might expect, yet the voice was still deep in a strange way. Despite the fact that it was very raspy, it was the sort of voice that held power and commanded authority.

Tutman looked as though he would do anything not to be there. He looked as though every part of him was being tested. He hugged his arms tight 'round himself and closed his eyes and his lower lip trembled. Severus wondered what had caused Tutman to help the Dark Lord, for it did not look as though Tutman was there by his own choice, as Lucius was, he looked as though he were there because he had no choice. And there was Severus, somewhere between the two opposing emotions of the adoration of Lucius and the repulsion of Tutman.

“My Lord,” gasped Lucius, “I brought the boy.”

Severus looked over to see Malfoy waving his hand at him and the Dark Lord's eyes travelled to Severus. A dark smile crossing the man's face as he studied Snape for several long moments. “Severus Snape,” he breathed, “Your abilities proceed you. Lucius Malfoy has told me more of the capabilities which you possess and I am very interested in them.”

Severus had no choice. He couldn't say now that he'd lied to Lucius. He couldn't back down. All he could do was hope against hope that things would work in his favor. “Interested in what about them, exactly?” he asked in a tone he hoped was more off-hand than his nervous system was truly allowing him to feel.

“I was hoping,” the Dark Lord replied, “That you might teach them to me.”

Lucius was looking at Severus with an expression of longing, jealous of the abilities Severus had, and even more so of the Dark Lord's interest in him. For Severus, it was one of those moments during which he was fully aware that something life changing was happening. He could feel it in his bones, like the pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

He could not refuse, even if he wanted to.

“Yes, sir,” he said as calmly as he could.

The wickedest smile yet crossed the mouth of the Dark Lord and Severus wondered exactly what he had gotten himself into.

Awkward Christmas (Lily)


Lily lay awake in her bed, the covers tucked up around her chin, staring at the wizarding photo on her nightstand. It was of Alice and Derek and the rest of the Bell family, standing on a short staircase in matching holiday jumpers, waving and smiling at her. The photo had come, along with a letter from Alice wishing Lily a Happy Christmas, by owl the day before, much to her parents' delight. The Evans could not get enough of how brilliant it was having a daughter who was a witch. They asked her questions constantly, delighting in the answers as their imaginations caught hold of the way things worked in the wizarding world. Each word out of Lily's mouth made Petunia glower at her with a bit more of a sour face, though. Lily had tried avoiding the topic, in hopes that would ease Tuney's anger with her, but no matter how hard she tried not to talk about Hogwarts, it seemed her parents were relentless in bringing it up.

Now it was Christmas, and normally by now the girls would be up and waking their parents, excited for their presents from Father Christmas and eager to get going with the festivities. A year ago, Lily remembered, she'd awakened her sister about this time with a snowman in that very room. It was the last smiling moment they'd shared, and even that had turned sour in the end. She hugged the blankets even closer and fought back tears as the sun streamed in their bedroom window.

In her bed, Petunia lay awake, also, listening to Lily's breathing, knowing her sister was also awake. She was torn between saying sorry to her and never speaking to her again. It wasn't fair, after all, that only one of the twins were granted with the powers and, as the slightly older sister, it should have been her that got them all. Wasn't it her birthright as the first born to be given power?

But it wasn't Lily's fault that was how nature had done it, Petunia thought. Fraternal twins, after all, were not the same as identical twins. They'd just grown together, that is all, from two separate eggs. One egg had been magical, the other had not. That was all there was to it. And that was biology, not Lily, that had done that.

It wasn't Lily's fault that their parents couldn't shut up on the topic of how lovely it was having a witch in the family – all of the time, even when Lily wasn't there, it was all that they talked about.

Nor was it Lily's fault that the horrible man called Dumbledore that ran that nasty old school she went to had said 'no' to Petunia's pleas to be allowed to learn magic, too. If he'd just let her learn, she, too, could be a witch. She, too, could come home with brilliant stories about Hogwarts and the games and the lessons and the ghosts. But Dumbledore had called her a muggle, which was a terribly offensive sounding word to Petunia, even though their parents seemed perfectly happy to be classified as such. Petunia hated it. It sounded dirty and ordinary and she didn't want to be dirty and ordinary. She wanted to be special, too.

And so the two girls laid there in bed, each staring their own direction, each with their backs towards the other, wishing things were different.

“Girls,” came Mrs. Evans voice through the door, “Are you awake?”

“Yes, mother,” called Petunia.

Lily felt a sting of sadness that Petunia had been awake all this time and had not said even a 'Happy Christmas' to her.

“Are you coming downstairs? Your father and I are headed down… There are presents,” she added hopefully. Mrs. Evans had been feeling the disconnect between her daughters, but was clueless about what had caused it, too enamored by Lily's magic to believe for even a moment that Petunia was not equally excited.

“Coming, mother,” Lily answered, hoping spitefully that Petunia would feel the same sting she had to find that she, too, had been awake all along.

They continued on laying there until they heard the stairs creaking as Mrs. Evans went away from their doorway, and then Lily heard Petunia get up and she, too, got up, pulling her bathrobe around herself and tying it at the waist before kicking her feet into her slippers. She turned around to say something to Petunia, but her sister was already opening the door and leaving without saying a single word. Lily frowned and pulled her hair out from the neck of her robe, the bright red falling down over her shoulders.





That night, after awkward Christmas day, filled with her parents talking about their trip to Diagon Alley to purchase Lily's Christmas presents, Petunia was even more angry with her than she'd been in the morning. When it was time for bed, they carried their gifts upstairs to the bedroom and Petunia deposited her little pile onto her desk and went straight to bed, pulling the covers up over her head.

“Tuney,” Lily tried, “I'm sorry about how they go on about Hogwarts, I really am. I'd love to hear about your school, won't you tell me about it?”

Petunia didn't answer. Didn't even move.

Lily sighed and put her brand new copy of Hogwarts, a History, First Edition into her trunk, along with her new potions kit. She turned back to her bed, where several new sets of robes were folded neatly, along with a lovely new book bag and, the main gift, a broomstick of her very own. She ran her thumb over the fancy gold plate on the handle. She knew nothing about brooms, if this was a good one or not. Petunia had been given a new bicycle – pink, Petunia's favorite color – and Lily had received this Shooting Star model broom. It looked much nicer than the ones at Hogwarts, but she would have to ask someone there about how impressive the model was. She hadn't the heart to tell her parents she wasn't allowed her own broomstick at school yet, as she was in her first year, and so she carefully tucked the Shooting Star into the closet behind some of her muggle clothes to keep it safe until next term.

Maybe, she thought, she'd ask James about it on the Hogwarts Express.

The thought of James Potter made her feel a strange mixture of things since they'd left Hogwarts for the holidays. She felt equally excited to see him and put off by the idea of him, and it made for a sort of lukewarm emotion she couldn't quite place.

Lily sat down on her bed and stared down at her lap, wishing she were already back at Hogwarts because the holidays had been anything but merry and bright as they were supposed to be. But then again, she reminded herself, things had been quite stressful those last couple days at Hogwarts, too, and she wondered about Severus and if his Christmas at the castle had been any better than hers back here at home.

As though in reply, there was suddenly a tapping at the window and Lily looked up to see a tired-looking barn owl, pecking at the glass. Bits of snow were stuck to her feathers, and a cold gust of wind spun into the room as Lily let the bird in carefully. Petunia let out a frustrated noise and pulled her covers tighter. “Why do you have to open that blasted window?” she demanded angrily.

“I've got an owl,” replied Lily.

Petunia made another frustrated noise, but didn't say anything.

Lily hastily pulled the note from the owl's leg and dove into her trunk to withdraw a knut to put in his little coin purse. The owl hooted and flew back out into the snowy night. Lily watched it disappear among the flakes of snow as she closed the window before turning to the rolled bit of parchment she'd taken from it. She unrolled it and found Severus's untidy handwriting, slanted and tight, scrawled across the page.

Happy Christmas, it said. I hope you're having a good muggle holiday back home. I do miss you. I am sorry for how I acted and if I embarrassed you at Slughorn's party. Love, Sev.

Lily stared down at the words, tears threatening her eyes. She hugged the parchment to her chest. She wished she hadn't sent the owl away without reading the parchment first for she would've sent a note back to Severus, but now it was too late to. She needed an owl of her own so that she might write to her friends when she was home, and she thought she might mention that to her mum the next day, before she went back to Hogwarts.

Lily fell asleep that night, dreaming of going back to Hogwarts.

Return on the Hogwarts Express (Prongs)


James was nearly as excited to get back to Hogwarts as he'd been to go in the first place. The moment his mum had let go of him, he made a mad dash across Platform 9� to find his friends. He was looking forward to showing the invisibility cloak to Sirius Black and getting back to the castle to find that map of the secret passages in Filch's office. James found Sirius in a compartment about midway through the train, laying across the seat and staring up at the ceiling. “There you are, mate, been lookin' for you,” James exclaimed as he shoved his way into the compartment and slid the door shut behind him. “I've got some brilliant stuff to tell you 'bout. My dad told me --” James stopped short, seeing the look on Sirius's face. “What's the matter with you?” he asked.

Sirius sighed and sat up, not looking directly at James. “It's my folks,” he said, “They don't get me.”

“Don't get you?” James asked. “Was your mum mad about Gryffindor then? Did she shout at you?”

“Worse,” Sirius answered, “She didn't speak to me, all of Christmas. Nor did Father. Regulus, my brother, he did a bit, but we didn't get on real well. It was dreadful being in that big dark house, basically alone up in my room.” He sighed. “The summer's going to be even worse.” He shook his head and ran a hand along the back of his neck absently.

James frowned, “I'm sorry, Sirius,” he said. “I thought you and Regulus got on okay?”

“We used to,” Sirius answered, “Which is part of why it was so awful. Mother's got him good and trained in believing everything she always has. He said everything I worried Mother might about my being a Gryffindor.” He looked out the window for a long moment, then shrugged, “I guess it just bothered me more than I thought it might,” he admitted.

James was about to answer when the door burst open again and they both looked up to see Peter Pettigrew. “There you two are,” he exclaimed as though he'd been looking for them for eons. “I haven't seen you since we boarded in Hogsmeade before the holidays!” James realized, only as Peter said it, that he hadn't seen him since they'd been in the carriages coming down from the castle itself to the station and he felt a teensy bit bad that he hadn't. Peter was forgettable was all, merely a part of their clan because he was the only other first year Gryffindor there and it would be rude to simply leave him out, though if James were honest (if any of them were, really) he'd prefer if they could.

“Been wondering about you,” James lied, “Wondering where you'd got to and such.”

“I had to share a compartment with this strange bloke, Xenophilius,” said Peter. “Nobody else wanted to sit with him and I couldn't find any other compartments.” He sat down now beside Sirius. “Good Christmas, you two?” he asked.

“Bloody brilliant,” Sirius murmured.

“Was alright,” James understated.

“Oh. Well, mine was great,” Peter said, and he paused, looking 'round at them, as though he expected one of the two of them to ask him what had been so great about it, but neither did, so after a few moments of silence, Peter launched into his story about one of his uncles having jinxed one of his other uncles and having to spend some time Christmas Eve at St. Mungo's trying to get it all sorted out while one uncle tap-danced and the other sneezed uncontrollably.

About halfway through the ridiculously long tale, the door slid opened and Lily Evans, followed by Alice Bell, stood in the doorway. Peter looked up, surprised to see them willingly stopping by the compartment. Lily cleared her throat, “James,” she asked, “Can I talk to you a second, I have a question.”

Sirius and Peter exchanged looks behind his back as James nodded and got up to follow Lily out of the compartment. He could hear them chanting embarrassing things at him, even after he'd closed the compartment door to block them out. Alice flanked Lily, looking about like she was a bodyguard of some sort. “What is it?” James asked her.

“Do you know anything about the Shooting Star broomsticks?” Lily asked.

James hadn't been expecting that for a question. “I – uh -the Shooting Stars, you say?” he stammered, “Sure. I mean, they're pretty new. Great racing brooms. They have some killer speed...” he paused, “Why?”

“I've gotten one for Christmas,” Lily explained.

“No way,” James said, impressed, “You got a broom for the Holidays?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad are new to the wizarding world and they wanted to get me something fantastic. Apparently they asked a bunch of kids about our age 'round Diagon Alley what the best present they could think of would be for Christmas and all those kids told'em a broomstick was best. So… I got a broomstick.” Lily shrugged.

“Well, wish my folks would do that,” laughed James. Lily laughed, too. He smiled at the sound of her voice all sparkly like laughing made it sound. When she'd stopped, he gestured at the door of the compartment. “D'you want to join us?”

“I've just seen Derek down the end of the train,” said Alice, answering before Lily could, proving she'd been listening all along.

Lily pointed the direction Alice had indicated, “Our group's down that way.”

“My group's in here,” James answered, waving at the compartment where Sirius and Peter were.

Lily nodded. “Alright.”

“Alright,” James echoed.

“See you, then,” Lily said, “Around the castle.”

“Yup,” James nodded.

“Oh come on then,” Alice groaned, grabbing Lily by the wrist and hauling her off. James hung 'round the door for a moment, watching them go and distinctly heard Alice hiss, “And you said you wouldn't even pay a knut for him! Really!” as they walked away.

Grinning, James let himself back in the compartment. Sirius's attention instantly snapped to James, even though Peter was still talking, and he leaped up, interrupting Peter's new story. “So what was that about?” Sirius demanded.

“She just had a question,” James answered nonchalantly.

“What sort of question would Lily Evans have to ask you?” Peter asked, hurt about having both his stories interrupted and meaning his question quite as offensively as it sounded.

“About a broomstick,” James answered. “Seems that Lily's parents got her a Shooting Star for Christmas.”

“A Shooting Star,” gasped Sirius enviously.

“Why didn't she just ask Derek Bell about it?” demanded Peter.

James was haughty in his reply, “Because Peter, she wanted to ask me.”

Sirius held up his hand for a high-five, which James gladly slapped him on, and exclaimed, “She likes you! I knew it! She does like you. Oh just wait, James, when you get on the Quidditch team and all the school is amazed by you, you'll see… you'll see, she'll be your main witch.”

James was red about the ears.

The entire ride to Hogwarts was made even brighter for James, who kept thinking of how she'd hesitated to go, and she'd sought him out just to ask him a question she could've asked Derek Bell. He felt quite good about himself, and was able to day dream very effectively the entire time that Peter droned on and on about his holiday. He was so distracted that James forgot he'd meant to tell Sirius about the invisibility cloak and the maps in Filch's office until they were nearly at Hogwarts and by then he was so annoyed with Peter and his rambling on that he decided to wait and tell Sirius later on in private, without Peter's ears about to hear it.

There was a rush of students on the platform at Hogsmeade Station and the boys had to work to stay together. James felt Peter clutch onto his robes. “I'm not getting separated again,” Peter explained. They got into a carriage going up to the castle and watched as outside a light rain that had been falling turned into sleet and began to coat everything with a fine layer of ice.

“Carefully now, don't go slipping on the ice,” called McGonagall's voice over the tinkling of the sleet. James stuck close to Sirius and Peter and they climbed the stairs into the entrance hall and on to the Great Hall for dinner. They were all frozen half to death but the Great Hall was warm and each place at the table was equipped with a steaming stein of hot chocolate.

James looked around once they'd sat down, his eyes skimming over to the Slytherin table, where he saw Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape sitting together, and then up and down the Gryffindor table with confusion. “Remus isn't here,” he said.

Sirius looked about once really quickly to confirm. He leaned in to James's ear and said, in a low voice so that Peter, who was talking eagerly to third year boy about his uncles again, would not hear. “I didn't think he would be. We need to talk after dinner. Alone.” He looked over at Peter to make sure he wasn't listening in, then said, even more quietly, “I know what's going on with Remus.”

A Good One (Padfoot)


Peter seemed determined not to fall asleep that night. James and Sirius lay in their beds, listening to him prattle on and on until, finally, he quieted down around nearly midnight. Even then, he continued to lay awake for another hour, pretending to be asleep, obviously somehow aware that the boys were planning to sneak off without him. Finally, though, Sirius heard Peter's breathing level out and fall into a rhythmic pattern of sleep, and Sirius sat up to peek over and be sure there wasn't any stirring in Peter's bed. Satisfied that he'd gone to sleep, Sirius motioned for James to follow him, and the two of them slipped out of bed and scrambled noiselessly down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, by the fire.

A quick look around the room confirmed they were the only two still awake, everyone else was fast asleep, and the common room was theirs alone. Sirius turned to James eagerly. “I've got it figured out what's going on with Remus, like why he's going missing every month and how come he's so dodgy about it.” James's eyebrows were raised with interest. “I've been thinking on it and – I've got it figured out. James, I just know it for sure.”

James had leaned closer as Sirius's voice lowered toward the end of the sentence. He waited with breath held for Sirius to continue on, but he didn't. The silence dragged on between them. “Are you going to tell me or are you just bragging on about your superior brains?” James asked once the moments had stretched on for what seemed an infinity.

Sirius took a deep breath, “Well. It's just that it's a big - a huge - a serious - accusation to make – and -” He rubbed his face with his palms. “Alright. They've obviously got it all under control somehow. I don't know how, exactly. Dumbledore's in on it, though, so -”

“In on what?” demanded James, interrupting Sirius's rambling.

“Shhh!” Sirius hissed. James had been a bit louder than he'd meant to and they both sat, motionless, peering up at the dormitory doors, half expecting all the other Gryffindors to crash down into the common room around them. But everything remained silent. Sirius inched even closer, lowering his voice even further, until the word he said next came out as but a breath. “He's a werewolf.”

A chill rushed down James's spine at the word. He pulled back, looking at Sirius with wild, disturbed eyes, his nostrils flared. He looked quite unsure how to react and Sirius wondered if he ought not to have told him about what he'd come up with.

James looked even more perplexed, if that was possible.

It was absurd to think about – a good werewolf! Wizard kids grew up trading tales of werewolves on their playgrounds. There had been many a time that Sirius's older cousins – including Lucius Malfoy – had set nightmares into the heads of the youngsters at family get togethers by telling them about werewolves. They'd told tales about old Fenrir Greyback, who was supposedly the most evil werewolf in all the world, with bright fiery-red eyes, who fed on children like they were snackboxes and used their bones to pick his teeth clean of their sinew and veins. Werewolves were what wizard kids feared more than anything else in all the world.

Sirius himself had suffered many nightmares thanks to Lucius's tales, and, judging by the look on James's face, so had he.

The only thing kid wizards might fear more than werewolves would be maybe giants, but the giants hadn't come south of the northern mountains in centuries, making werewolves way more imminent a danger.

“Obviously he's a good ---” Sirius cut himself off before saying the W-word again.

James's voice shook – he was obviously suppressing being scared as he spoke, “Is there – is there such a thing as – as a good… one?” he asked.

Sirius shrugged. “I haven't got a clue if there usually are or not,” he said, “But Remus seems alright… and, like I said, Dumbledore's in on it. Why would Dumbledore help him hide it if he wasn't a good one?”

James shook his head, not sure of an answer. “Good or not, why would Dumbledore bring… one… here, to Hogwarts?”

“Because -” Sirius struggled with an answer, “Because – well, for the same reason that he teaches muggle-borns, I suppose.”

“There's a big difference between a muggle-born and a werewolf, Sirius,” hissed James quickly, under his breath.

“I know that, but if they're good and – and --- Well, like Lily Evans said on the train that day, they're just people – who can't help --” Sirius floundered for a clear line of reasoning.

James was shaking his head. “And what about Remus's father? He's the one that passed the Werewolf Restriction Act, remember? That's exactly why he wouldn't have been allowed to come to the school,” James said.

“Well that was part of what was hanging me up,” admitted Sirius, “But I think it's something like there was a werewolf who was angry at Mr. Lupin for having passed that law, and, as revenge, bit his son and made him a wolf.”

“You've got to be wrong, Sirius. There's gotta be some other explanation for it all. No way can this be true – how'd you even –?”

Sirius leaned forward, “Listen to me James. I'm right, I know it. He goes missing at the full moon. Disappears late evening the day before and stays gone until early morning a day after. Every month. Look.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper – notes he'd scribbled along the edge of a page torn from his astronomy book from Professor Zosma's class – the moon chart for the year. He flattened it on the coffee table between them. “See here? He went missing before our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the term, remember? That first weekend here? Full moon.” Sirius jabbed his finger at the page. “And then he disappeared about a month later, that first week of October. That's the weekend Andy Turin, that Ravenclaw, got clobbered at Quidditch try outs and we saw him up at the hospital wing trying to find Remus, remember? Full moon. And the day after Halloween? Full moon. First of December! Full moon! Now - right now, James – look out the window.”

James's eyes traveled to the windows. Sure enough, through it, he could see the full moon glowing blue-white and pale over the Forbidden Forest.

“Mark my words,” Sirius murmured as James stared out the window, “Remus will be back tomorrow at breakfast. What's more is he'll disappear again come 'round about the 29th.” He pressed a finger at the dates on the moon cycle chart from Zosma's class.

The evidence was certainly stacked and James couldn't come up with a single bit of substantial proof against it. Sirius might actually be right, he thought with a shiver. “Blimey,” he whispered.

“I know,” Sirius said.

“But a werewolf,” whispered James. “Blimey.”

“How should we tell him we know?” Sirius asked at exactly the same time that James asked, “How do we keep him from finding out we know?”

James's eyes widened. “You want to tell him?” he asked, perplexed. “Are you mad? Tell a werewolf we know he's a werewolf when the very last thing said werewolf wants anyone to know is that he's a werewolf?”

“Well he's still our mate,” Sirius said with a shrug, “Nothing's changed that way, has it? Not really...” He frowned. “And I think Remus could use knowing we're there for him. It's got to be awfully lonely keeping a secret like that. We gotta show him he can trust us, that we're not gonna tell his secret to anybody else, so he can talk to us about it. I think it'll help him out.”

James nodded slowly, “Yeah,” he said, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So how do we tell him?” Sirius asked.

James thought hard for a moment, then shook his head, “I dunno.”

“Me either.”

“Maybe we need to just wait for the right moment to come up and then we will, when the time's right and all,” James suggested.

“Alright, then,” agreed Sirius, nodding. “That's what we'll do, then.”