CHAPTER 1- THE BEGINNING
“It’s not so much a prank as it is a favor, James,” Sirius explained persuasively, trying to convince his friend. James had just received a week’s worth of detentions for what was already being called “the ink incident,” and he had a policy of always completing his detentions before putting his next “project” into action, not so much because of the moral aspect as because detention was his strategizing time for the next adventure. James, whom Sirius had been working on for at least a couple hours now, began to waver.
“I don’t know…”
Sirius saw his chance and jumped at it. “It doesn’t have to be anything big. Just something to bring him out of his shell. Honestly, James, anyone would think that you were scared!”
James’s eleven-year-old pride smarted. “I thought you said it wasn’t a prank,” he responded contritely, but Sirius’ last sentence had demolished the little resistance he had left. So, when Sirius waved his hand dismissively at James’ comment, the messy-haired Gryffindor only had to pretend to consider the matter for about a second before saying (with a bit more eagerness than he would have liked to have shown), “Okay, then. It is for a good cause, after all.”
The subject was Remus Lupin. The goal was to prank him with the explicit purpose of making people notice him. Sirius and James had started a conversation earlier that day about how shy their dorm mate was. That particular conversation ended with them slipping out of bed as soon as Peter Pettigrew (the last to go to bed that night) began snoring so loudly that the boys were sure they wouldn’t be able to sleep that night. In silent agreement, James tiptoed over to Lupin’s trunk and quietly opened it, while Sirius glided over to his four-poster and parted the hangings.
The two conspirators were up early the next morning, in anticipation of Lupin’s reaction. After what seemed an eternity, their subject finally slid out of bed, and opened his trunk.
James and Sirius exchanged smiles of anticipation.
And Lupin did nothing. He slipped his scarlet robes over his scarlet boxers, put on his scarlet socks, and tied his scarlet shoes, as though they had never been any other colour. He even combed his bright red hair without so much as blinking. He nodded good morning to James, who had frozen in surprise, one sock on his foot and the other clutched in his hand, and to Sirius, who had stopped buttoning his shirt half way. He then walked out of the dormitory to breakfast, adjusting his scarlet collar, cool as punch, his retreating back giving Sirius and James a perfect view of the neatly written sign on it, which had been charmed to appear only after Lupin had put on his clothes.
“Hey Lupin!” someone called in the hallway, “You look like a Weasley!”
“Yes,” Remus agreed mildly, “I’ve recently been adopted by the Weasleys. Apparently, if you spend more than five minutes with the last name, you begin to get the hair. I’m expecting freckles any day now.” From anyone else, this would have been an insult. However, from Remus, who was actually quite fond of the Weasleys, it was more of a friendly jibe.
Remus proceeded to walk to Potions as fast as possible, short of running. He dearly hoped he would reach the classroom before someone else told him he looked like a Weasley, or worse yet, hugged him. He assumed the hugs he had been receiving all day had something to do with the sign on his back. However, the sign refused to come off, so he could only guess. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed it in the dormitory. He had more important things to worry about, however. Like Potions, and the inevitable meeting with Professor Crawley, who hated him. Remus had never been very good at Potions, not because he was unable to make them, but because he was always strongly distracted by the many vile smells wafting around the classroom. Since he was a werewolf, his senses were much more evolved than normal people’s, which meant that he was bothered when doing something most people would take for granted, like taking out an especially smelly bag of garbage, or having a noisemaker go off near his ear.
He had nearly reached the dungeons, when…
“Lupin! You look like a Weasley!”
No, he thought, it’s too much to hope that people can be original in their insults. Turning to answer the commentator, he prepared himself for a long day.
Having just barely survived Potions, Lupin settled into a seat at the back of the History of Magic classroom, opening a well-deserved book titled Merlin: The True Story. The title didn’t sound at all promising, but he’d read all of the other books he’d gotten for Christmas several times, and felt he should at least give it a chance. Unfortunately, the book’s chance was to be short lived. He hadn’t been reading for two minutes, when he looked up to see Sirius Black and James Potter sauntering towards him. He sighed and closed the book, carefully marking the page, mentally resigning himself to being called a Weasley again. He looked at them with an expression he hoped was a polite “How may I help you?” with faint undertones of “Please go away/I would rather not be bothered.”
“Y’know, we’re s’posed to wear black robes Lupin,” Sirius observed smugly, hoping that by targeting Lupin’s careworn but usually meticulous appearance, he would get a reaction. He was hoping for something along the lines of an “explosion,” which, if it didn’t break the ice, would be extremely funny. He wasn’t picky, though. He’d settle for a look of complete astonishment, or even a bemused expression. Anything, really…
“Yes,” Lupin agreed in a mild and courteous manner that was decidedly un-explosion like, much to Sirius’ aggravation and, consequently, James’ amusement. “But it matches my hair so well, you see.” He paused to look Sirius up and down. “I see you’ve color-coordinated your hair and clothes.” He analytically glanced over James. “You too.”
There was a pause, during which James’ and Sirius’ respect for Lupin rose considerably, along with Sirius’ determination to get a reaction.
“You have a sign on your back,” Sirius said abruptly, breaking the silence. He knew it sounded lame even before it was out of his mouth, but he needed that reaction.
“Ah. Would that have anything to do with why girls have been hugging me all day, do you think?”
“Girls?” asked Sirius, slightly jealous.
“Yes, well, would you hug me?”
Sirius considered it for a moment. It was a matter of pride. He would get his reaction, no matter what. He squared his shoulders, compressed his lips, and, with a set face, bent down and hugged Lupin as though he was a sharp bit of metal that a dragon had just regurgitated.
James, who was red in the face with suppressed laughter, let out a strange noise. It was something between a snort, a gasp for air, and a strangled chortle. But Sirius didn’t care, because he knew Lupin would have to do something now. Checkmate, he thought.
Lupin did do something. He raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m simply terrified,” he said in infallibly polite tones of simply scorching sarcasm. Then he turned back to his book, an obvious sign that, in his opinion, the conversation was over.
James couldn’t help it. One look at Sirius’ face and he burst into laughter, and both couldn’t and wouldn’t stop for a while. Sirius marched back across the classroom with as much dignity as he could muster. He tried to be furious with Lupin and, against all odds, failed miserably. James, who slid into his seat next to Sirius just as Professor Binns emerged from the floor, leaned over to Sirius and whispered, “He’s good.”
“Yeah,” Sirius agreed.
“I like him,” James declared after a moment’s consideration.
“Me too.”
“Then there’s only one thing for it.”
Sirius nodded. They both pulled out their wands and pointed them at Lupin. “Coloro Nativitas!” Sirius whispered at the same time that James murmured, “Abduco Scriptura!”
And suddenly, Lupin’s clothes and hair were their proper colours, and the sign on his back was gone. Lupin, who felt the tingle of magic being cast on him, as only a werewolf can, looked down at his clothes and quietly went into a state of shock, finally giving Sirius the reaction he’d worked the entire day to see.