“Did…did you see that!” Peter squealed excitedly, suddenly clasping on to Remus’ arm and pointing up into the sky above the Quidditch Pitch. Remus looked up to see James standing precariously on his broom, one arm out to his side, the other stretched out in front, grasping the Snitch, which was fluttering pointlessly in his hand. A group of Gryffindor girls who had been watching clapped enthusiastically, shouting things like “That was fantastic, Potter!” and “They won’t know what’s hit them!” to the boy who circled triumphantly above them. James took a bow before lightly allowing himself to slip back into a seated position, flying over to where Sirius was waiting to release the Snitch again.
James had only been playing in the position of Seeker since the start of term but was already showing more skill and dexterity than his predecessor. A swift team re-shuffle had been in order, Alice King had announced at their first team practice of the season; casting reprimanding looks in Sirius’ and James’ direction. Not only had their rival teams grown to despise how antagonistic the partnership of James and Sirius was during matches, even the Gryffindor team itself grew increasingly impatient at their cocky camaraderie. So it was that a new season had stared, Anthony Althrop had been found to replace James in his former position, and James had been promoted to the position of Seeker, with the power to win or lose a match often resting on his shoulders.
Remus nodded to pacify Peter, who was standing, shaking, as he watched the Gryffindor team practice, his eyes fixed on the figures of Sirius and James, laughing carelessly at the opposite end of the pitch. Remus hadn’t even been watching them practice; his mind had been full of the events of that morning, and the things that James had said. The thing about Sirius is….he doesn’t like change.
Remus could hardly believe this to be true as he looked at the dazzlingly confident boy zooming along on his broomstick, his eyes firmly fixed on the Quaffle that was flying towards him. He had always assumed that he was so fearless. That he would embrace the future better then any of the other Marauders; he would be the one to seize it and claim it as his own.
For a moment Remus held his breath as the Quaffle appeared to just be out of his reach. Yet at the last minute Sirius reached high and caught it with great ease, and was met with applause and sighs from the Gryffindor girls. Relieved, Remus allowed himself to exhale.
“Peter?” he asked cautiously, turning his attention from the friends above the pitch to the friend sat beside him. Agitated, Peter dragged his eyes away and looked at Remus. “Do you ever…get frightened?”
Peter’s vermin-like features darkened with confusion; his brow furrowed and his nose seemed to become more pointed than usual as he replied, “What do you mean, frightened? You know….you do know who you’re talking to…right?”
Remus smiled warmly at Peter’s self-deprecating nature and, after adjusting the sleeves of his robes he continued, “I mean…do you ever get frightened of things changing? For all of us?”
For a moment Peter’s face dropped and his eyes became dark as he shifted guiltily in his seat. He snapped his attention away from Remus and gazed once more up at the friends in the sky, his face black as he drummed his fingers nervously on the side of the stand. Remus watched his friend, confused by the way this question had been received as he said gently, “I didn’t mean anything by it, Wormtail. It was just something that James said earlier…that’s all.”
“What’s he got to be frightened of?” Peter said, his face hot, his eyes flashing peculiarly as he gazed up at the boys above. Remus blinked steadily, his hands folded tightly in his lap.
“I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it, what rumour and suspicion can do…” Remus’ voice was reflective as another cheer from the Gryffindor girls that told him that a particularly impressive stunt had been pulled above. “I mean, you only have to look at a copy of The Daily Prophet recently to know that things are changing. And just…” Remus paused, his eyes scanning the faces of his fellow pupils, so absorbed with what they witnessing above, though he remained completely oblivious to the face of Peter beside him. “I can’t help feeling that something…something isn’t right. There’s something happening that I just can’t work out. I don’t know what…I don’t even know if it makes sense. But I can just feel that things are changing.”
Peter had frozen; he was no longer squirming uncomfortably, nor was he writhing with the excitement of his friends performing above. He was no longer drumming his fingers. Instead, his hand was gripping the side of the stand tightly; his knuckles had turned white. Remus turned to Peter and was shocked to see a cold expression on his otherwise childish face. Remus shuddered.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Peter asked, his voice so quiet that it could hardly be heard amidst the cheering. Tentatively, Remus leant forward, his eyes fixed on Peter’s immobile face. Yet suddenly the darkness that had shadowed Peter’s face seemed to be lifted; his eyes once more glittered with excitement and admiration as he said a little breathlessly, “I really think we’re going to beat Ravenclaw next week.”
The heavens had opened not long after the practice had ended and Remus was now standing alone with his back against the damp tarpaulin, the rain falling heavily all around. He raised his eyes to the fabric above his head with suspicion; its centre was dipping lower and lower as the water collected in a great pool in the middle. He had been waiting for Sirius and James for half an hour now and still they showed no signs of emerging. Peter had left, wide-eyed and slightly delirious, as soon as the practice had ended, mumbling something about The Daily Prophet and that things wouldn’t have to change. Once again Remus found himself waiting for his friends and, as he pulled out his wand to strengthen the fabric above him, he sighed despondently, kicking the damp turf under his feet.
“That’s quite a useful charm,” said a girl who had rushed from round the side of the Quidditch Pitch to underneath where Remus was finding shelter.
Remus shrugged and pocketed his wand with the words, “It helps to know these kinds of things when you’re waiting for friends who make a habit of leaving you in the rain.”
The girl laughed at this, but whether or not she found his words truly humorous Remus couldn’t tell. For a moment there was silence; his sanctuary had been invaded by someone he didn’t know and it made him feel uncomfortable as he silently prayed for the rain to stop. The girl seemed to notice and, after tossing her blonde hair out of her eyes and down her back, she said lightly, “Eleanor Figg.” She then held out her hand in a strangely formal gesture that made Remus suddenly feel more at ease. With a brief smile he took it and said, “I’m Re…”
“Remus Lupin, I know.” Her hand fell from his and she stuffed both of them into her pockets, sticking out her chest and whistling lowly.
“But how do you…”
“You’re friends with Potter and Black, aren’t you?” she interrupted once again.
A little disappointed, Remus nodded. Why was it that he only ever seemed to exist in conjunction with his friends? Eleanor didn’t seem to notice his expression as she continued, “I’ve never really understood that you know. You’re quite a quiet person and they’re…well they’re so…”
“Loud?” Remus offered. Eleanor’s lips curled into a pleasant smile and Remus could feel himself tingle with the threat of a blush. Quickly, he turned away, his eyes searching for any signs of his friends amongst the blurred landscape around them. The greens of the grass seemed almost indistinguishable from the greys of the sky and as Remus watched, his nostrils filled with the pleasant smell of wet, lush earth. However, he couldn’t help but fear that more pleasantries may come. Would they be forced to speak endlessly about Quidditch (a subject which Remus hardly knew)? Would they try to uncover some common friends or enemies, and laugh falsely at the idiosyncrasies of each? Would they talk of the lessons that they did and did not enjoy, or would she (perhaps worst of all) quiz him about the inner workings of James and Sirius?
Yet, as they stood in a silence which was only softly broken by the rain on the fabric above them, Remus found himself pleasantly surprised by the lack of conversation between them. Each seemed too absorbed in the views that surrounded them; each was silently waiting for the arrival of friends. Remus could hear her whistling lowly; that same, deep song she had been whistling earlier, and something about this made Remus relax. He could almost forget about Sirius slamming the window behind him; about James’ solemn words and Peter’s strange reaction to when Remus’ innocent question. Standing here beside this girl he hardly knew made him feel at peace, forgetful of the concern he felt at making Sirius lose his temper, and reflective on the possibility that the rain could stop.
“Looks like your friends are here.” Her voice broke the repetitive sound of the falling rain. Remus could see James and Sirius running over to where Eleanor and he were sheltering.
“Sorry…we kind of…got caught up in something…” James managed to pant, peering at Remus through rain-splattered glasses. Suddenly he seemed to notice Eleanor, who had been watching the two boys with a silent smile playing about her lips, and he gulped hard before saying, “You’re Eleanor Figg, aren’t you? The Ravenclaw Chaser?”
The blonde girl shrugged as if the name meant nothing and inwardly Remus was pleased that she seemed so flippant. Yet immediately she had turned her attention to Sirius, whose wet hair was rippling in front of his face, barely hiding his scowl of displeasure.
“I guess we’ll be up against each other on Thursday then,” she said sweetly. Sirius said nothing; his eyes seemed to be moving between Eleanor and Remus, trying to piece the scene together.
James grinned confidently and, clamping an arm around Sirius’ shoulder he shook him out of his staring for long enough to reply, “I don’t think there is really much competition.”
Inwardly, Remus winced at the sharpness of this reply but Eleanor seemed to find it amusing and after she had finished wringing the bottom of he jumper free of water, she turned her eyes to Sirius and said, “Perhaps not. After all, how could anyone compete with the…” She paused, placing one hand over her heart before saying, every inch of her voice mocking, “ The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”
James laughed at this, but Sirius did not; his eyes had turned opaque with fury as he stared directly at Eleanor. Remus could feel the air around them grow tense as he waited for Sirius to lose his temper, to retort with something cutting and hurtful. He did not, however. Sirius simply smiled tightly and, after looking at Remus for a brief moment he said to James, “Shall we go in?”
James nodded and they moved away, Remus following a little way behind them, the rain falling heavily all around. Remus imagined Eleanor Figg watching them go, her blonde hair falling around her slightly red face, still humming that tune under her breath. Yet something interrupted this thought; something inside him forced him to relinquish this daydream as he stared at the back of Sirius’ head. His heart grew tight within his chest as he wiped the rain from out of his eyes. Something inside him was forcing him to feel awkward; a strange kind of guilt was rushing through his veins. Shaking his head as if to rid himself of this feeling, he found it only grew, and he once again heard James’ words in his head: The thing about Sirius is….he doesn’t like change.
Without you, I'm nothing by Clare Mansfield
Chapter Notes: Change is in the air as Remus talks to Peter about being afraid.
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