Strained Relations and Lifeless Hands
The full moon shone, illuminating the otherwise dark night. The usually calm and tranquil air of Hogsmeade was pierced by vicious howls coming from the Shrieking Shack. The villagers were used to the monthly disturbance. After three years, it was expected. What they did not expect was the increased violence with which the spirits yelled. Sometimes the yells were more violent than was normal, but never did they sound like this. It seemed that they were more ferocious this night than they had been at any other time, though no one could understand why. There was nothing especially different about this night, at least not to the villagers. Maybe this night was significant to the spirits; the villagers couldn’t tell.
The wolf wanted out. It didn’t want to be stuck in that rundown, foodless shack again. There were people around; though it could smell them only faintly. The wolf knew they were there, nonetheless. The wolf wanted to get at them, to bite them and scratch them. The wolf wanted to taste their blood, feel their flesh through its teeth. The wolf wanted to hear their screams of agony. But there were no people within reach. The walls barred them away. Those wretched walls, the walls that kept the food out and kept the wolf in. The wolf wanted to get at them, but there was no way to do it. So, the wolf was left with nothing else to do except get at himself. It was better than nothing.
When Remus’s eyes opened the next morning he was blinded by the sickeningly white ceiling of the Hospital Wing. Repressing the urge to retch, he tried to roll over onto his side, and retched anyway. He wished someone would turn down the lights, before he realised that it was the sun. Then he wished that someone would make the sun go away. He wanted the clouds to cover it. He had never felt so tired, so exhausted, after a transformation. He had shooting pains in his head, his limbs were on fire, and now all he could smell was his own sick.
Where is Madam Pomfrey? Every other time he had woken up in the Hospital Wing the nurse was at his side, trying to see what had happened to him the night before. Why would she not be there at that moment, after he had had possibly one of the worst transformations of his life? He groaned as his stomach churned and pressed his lips together, praying that whatever was inside of him remained there. Where is she? He wanted a potion to put him to sleep or to pass out again. The pain would disappear so he could rest.
The Hospital Wing door opened and the nurse walked in with none other than Severus Snape. The Slytherin was nursing a bloody nose and looked particularly disgruntled. Remus could only guess who was behind this.
“Stop your muttering, Mr. Snape,” the nurse hissed. “I have other patients and they should not be disturbed.”
Remus groaned, but not from pain this time. He was hoping that Snape would not notice that he was there. To Remus’s displeasure, Snape’s eyes flashed over to his bed and a strange look crossed the boy’s face. Remus turned his head down, trying to shield the injuries that may have been scarring his face. The nurse sat Snape down on one of the empty beds, tilting his head back and pressing the tissue to his face. “I’ll get Potter back,” he muttered angrily.
“Mr. Potter has already been dealt with,” Madam Pomfrey said reproachfully. The quiet of her infirmary was being ruined and she didn’t like it. “Professor McGonagall has given him detention every night this week.”
Remus rolled his eyes. Naturally James would get detention for an entire week. He knew Cory Hamilton would be upset about that. They were scheduled to have Quidditch practise every night that week. James had landed himself detention put them at a disadvantage. He knew for a fact that, as it was a Saturday, the Gryffindor team was having an all day practise session. James definitely didn’t want to miss the Quidditch sessions, so what had possessed him to hex Snape?
Madam Pomfrey had handed Snape a potion to ease the bleeding and moved over to Remus’s bed. “Ah, you’re awake.” She laid a hand on his forehead. “Hmm… You’ve got a rather bad fever.” Remus didn’t need her to tell him that. He felt as though someone was pressing a hot iron against every inch of his body. Remus looked over the nurse’s shoulder at Snape, who was watching the two intently. “What’s the matter?” Madam Pomfrey inquired. She turned to where Remus was looking and saw what was making him uncomfortable.
She drew the curtains around the bed and began inspecting his various injuries. She prodded his sides, checked his pulse, and bent his arms and legs before coming to a final assessment. He had several broken ribs, a sprained ankle, a broken arm, and a number of nasty lacerations. Remus didn’t mind this. It was actually better than what he had expected. He had been anticipating every inch of his body to need mending. What he did mind was that he was going to have to spend the entire weekend in the infirmary. Any chance of celebrating his birthday at all was destroyed. Madam Pomfrey left to go check on Snape, who was doubtlessly wondering what the nurse was tending to for such a long. He heard their whispered exchanges before the nurse went back to her office. It was only when the door to the ward opened that Snape spoke again.
“Oh, it’s you, Black.” Sirius was making his customary drop in after a full moon. Remus wondered where Peter had gotten to.
“Ah, it’s you, Snivelly,” Sirius snarled back. “That’s a nice shade of red.” Clearly Sirius was noting the smeared blood that must have been on Snape’s face.
“Potter attacked me behind my back.”
“With a nose like yours, you should have smelled him coming.”
Remus heard Snape mutter something under his breath, but could not make out the words. All he heard was the infirmary door slam shut.
“I know you’re in here, Remus,” Sirius said in a sing-song fashion. “Show yourself!”
“Do you have to be so loud?” Remus groaned, his ears hurting.
“I can be louder if you want.” Sirius pulled back the curtains around the bed and sat down at the foot of it.
“No thanks.” Remus carefully rolled onto his back. “Where’s Peter?”
“He’ll be in here in a minute. He had to ask McGonagall about something he wrote in his last essay.”
Remus nodded slowly. “So, James has detention all week?”
“Yep, Hamilton’s not too happy about that.” Sirius was fishing for something in the pocket of his robes. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Remus. “This came for you.”
Remus turned the letter over and saw that it was from his parents. He set it down on the nightstand, he would open it later. He cast his mind around for something to talk about. “Did you see that article my dad wrote?”
“The one about that prat Dirk Umbridge?” Sirius responded, his voice full of malice. Dirk Umbridge was one of the latest members of the Ministry of Magic to speak out about people he deemed as half-breeds. This included Vampires, Merpeople, Giants and Werewolves.
“Yeah, that one.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your dad write so madly before.”
“What was his dad writing about?” Sirius and Remus turned at the new voice to see that Peter had arrived. He was clutching a piece of parchment in his right hand and looking at the two.
“The article he wrote, remember?” Sirius supplied. “We read it the other day.”
“Oh, yeah, that one.” Peter took a set on the other side of Remus’s bed. “Your dad was mad.”
“He tries not to think about it,” Remus said, rubbing a sore spot under his left eye. He knew he had a bruise there, though he could not see it. “How’s your essay, Pete?”
“Its fine, McGonagall said there was nothing wrong with it.”
“That’s good. I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
Peter shrugged; he had only wanted to make sure. A sudden grin flashed across his face. “You know what I heard while I was at McGonagall’s?”
Sirius’s and Remus’s interest peaked immediately. “What?” Remus asked, eager for something interesting to talk about.
“Flitwick was there and he was telling her how he heard that Crane’s been working millions of Muggle jobs because no Wizard wants to hire him.”
Sirius laughed harshly. “I almost feel sorry for the man.”
Remus couldn’t help but agree. “How’d Flitwick find that out?”
“He heard it from Jankes, who was at a Muggle shop looking for something for her next class.”
“Should we feel bad we put him out of work?” Remus questioned, his voice full of mock pity.
“Maybe we should send him a gift basket,” Sirius suggested in false tones of thoughtfulness.
“And have it explode in his face?”
“Naturally.” Sirius and Peter jumped up when they saw Madam Pomfrey coming over, no doubt to check on her patient again. It only took five minutes before she retreated back to her office. When the office door shut quietly, Sirius turned to Remus. “So, chances of celebrating your birthday are…?”
“Zero to none.”
“Yeah,” Peter consented. “Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t like us making noise in here.”
Just as the words came out of Peter’s mouth, there was an eruption of noise right outside of the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, a look of fury blazing in her eyes. Every Hogwarts students’ last act of defiance would be to make noise within earshot of the nurse. She yanked the door open and began shouting at whoever had dared disturb the peace of the ward, coincidentally making more noise. Sirius and Peter, who were not confined to a bed, hurried over to see what was going on. Sirius’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw who the offenders were. He pushed past the nurse and broke up the fight on his own.
“Alright, go on, get going, you gits!”
Madam Pomfrey made a noise of disapproval, but seemed relieved that Sirius had taken care of the problem. She stepped back into the ward and Sirius backed in after her, clutching Regulus by the scruff of his neck. Regulus was struggling against his brother’s grip, muttering wildly under his breath.
“Merlin, Sirius!” Regulus shouted, earning nothing but another hiss of impatience from the nurse.
“What are you doing fighting with Lovegood?” Sirius barked, finally releasing his brother.
“I wouldn’t call it fighting; he didn’t do anything back!”
“Look, I don’t think Xeno Lovegood would pick a fight, so what were you doing?”
“None of your business.”
“Stop fighting and maybe I’ll stay out of your business.”
Regulus scoffed. “Yeah, right.” Regulus glanced at Peter and Remus briefly, a scathing look in his eyes. “Find better friends and maybe I’ll consider letting you know why I do things.” And he swept from the infirmary.
“You know,” Sirius said, looking at his friends, “you two are lucky you’re only children.”
“I guess so,” Peter agreed, shrugging.
Sirius threw himself back down at the foot of Remus’s bed and glared at the wall opposite him for a moment. When he seethed long enough, he forced a smile onto his face and engaged his friends in a conversation about their latest prank. Peter and Remus seized the topic with unusual enthusiasm. They knew that the last thing Sirius wanted to think about was his brother.
March tenth came and passed with no more excitement than if it had been any other day. James, Sirius and Peter had made a point to visit Remus in the Hospital Wing, only to find that he was too exhausted to celebrate anything. He fell asleep within seconds of their arrival. The three boys, now left with nothing to do, as it was a Sunday and classes were not in session, spent the day in the Room of Requirement. They only broke their research when James had to go to detention. There wasn’t much they could do at the time; there were ingredients that were not available to them at the school. They merely discussed who was responsible for which ingredients.
When Sirius and Peter returned to the common room at eight in the evening, they found Remus resting in one of the armchairs, a book open on his lap. Sirius and Peter took seats on either side of him and Sirius took the liberty of reading the page Remus was on. He didn’t recognise the title; it must have been a Muggle book. Remus’s mother must have given it to him. It was about a ring and strange, tiny folk called Hobbits. Muggles are weird, Sirius thought, grinning. He flipped through the pages, making sure to keep a mark on the one his friend was on, and read lines at random. He closed the book and turned to Peter.
“Can rings destroy the world?”
Peter seemed taken aback by this question. “I don’t think so… why?”
“This Muggle guy,” he consulted the front of the book, “Tolkein, says they can.”
Peter shrugged. “Maybe they can… I dunno.”
They lapsed into silence, which was broken rather abruptly by a loud, irritated, “ARGH!” from the head of the common room.
“Merlin, James!” Sirius exclaimed when he located the source of the yell. “What’s your problem?”
James, disheveled and angry, was rushing towards them. “McGonagall! Five hundred lines! FIVE HUNDRED! For making Snivelly’s nose bleed? I got easier when I made his nose the size of his face!”
Sirius snickered at the memory. “That was a funny one.”
“Five hundred!” James ranted on, either not hearing or not caring about what Sirius had said. “My hand is dead! Dead, I tell you!” He waved his limp hand in Sirius’s face. “Look at it! It’s pathetic!”
“It’s like its owner,” Sirius observed brightly.
“If my hand wasn’t incapable of movement, I’d slap you with it right now.” James waved his hand lightly and it tapped Sirius on the cheek.
“Ow, that hurt.” Sirius pretended to furiously rub the side of his face.
James groaned and sat down. “Maybe I should cut down on the hexing for a few days?”
Sirius gasped dramatically. “James Potter, give up on hexing! Peter! The world is ending!”
“Should I get the kids and load them on the broom?” Peter jibed.
“And the dog!”
“What about the cat?”
“Forget him, I hate cats.”
“Fine, the cat stays and dies.”
“We’re going to need a bigger broom.”
“Okay… I’ll take one with the dog and little Peter and you take one with the luggage and little Sally.”
James’s head was turning back and forth during the exchange between Sirius and Peter, his limp and useless hand forgotten. “You two are mental.”
“Thank you,” Sirius said, a large grin plastered on his face. “Seriously, James, you’re going to stop hexing Snape?”
“For a week at least, until my detention is over.”
“The world has got to be ending…”
“Well, it’s not.”
“I thought boys are supposed to mature when they get older.” The boys turned at the new voice and saw Lily and Alice Gordon making their way through the common room. James wondered if they had been sitting there through the entire pronouncement of the world’s imminent demise.
“No, Alice, girls are the ones who get mature. We’ve got about five years on boys.”
“So we’re about nineteen when they’re fourteen?”
“Basically.”
“I was trying to be mature, Lily,” James pointed out.
“By saying you’re not going to hex Severus for a week? Try for a month and maybe I’ll believe you.”
“He can’t do a month,” Peter told her, shaking his head sadly. “He’d explode.”
The corners of Lily’s mouth turned up slightly, but she flattened them at the next second. “Tell him,” she inclined her head towards the oblivious Remus, “that I’ll tutor him Thursday at half past six.”
“Sure thing,” Sirius said, propping his elbow up on the arm of Remus’s chair.
Lily thanked him and she and Alice disappeared up to the girls’ dormitory. James planted his head on the palm of his living hand. “Is she ever going to not think I’m a git?”
“I don’t think so,” Peter said. “Unless you actually do stop hexing Snape.”
“Which means she will never think anything else about you,” Sirius added.
“Brilliant,” James muttered angrily.
“You’re only thirteen; you’ve got years before you actually have to grow up.”
“Unless you want to be able to talk to Lily without ending up in makeup before you turn sixteen.”
“Thanks, Peter.”
“Always here to help.” Peter stood up and cracked his knuckles. “It’s nice having hands that work.”
“I love how everyone decided to pick on me tonight.”
“Not yet, Remus still hasn’t had a go at you.” He peered down at Remus and saw that any opportunity his friend had to make fun of James was not going to come soon.
“You have a message to give him, Sirius.”
“Oh, right.” Sirius jumped up and pulled out his wand.
“What are you doing?” James inquired, eyeing Sirius confusedly.
Sirius said nothing. He simply muttered something under his breath and waved his wand until words appeared scrawled across Remus’s forehead. James shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling. “He’s going to kill you.”
Sirius shrugged. “What’s he going to do? Snore at me?” He pocketed his wand. “We never gave him his present, you know.” He dashed up the stairs and came back clutching a soft package to his chest. He set it down on Remus’s head and gestured for James and Peter to follow him. Once the three were gone, Remus shifted slightly in his seat and the package fell onto his lap. Remus stirred, his eyes opening slowly, and he noticed it lying there. Wondering where it had come from, he ripped the note off the top of it.
Your old robes were getting a bit shabby. Happy fourteenth birthday!
- James, Sirius and Peter
Remus did remember James saying something about his robes the other day. He pulled off the paper and saw a new set of school robes folded up inside. He grinned to himself, thinking of his old pair of robes, patched and frayed, lying under his bed in the dormitory. He shakily stood up, intending to thank his friends. He collected his book and his gift and went up to the dormitory. He found the three getting ready for bed.
“Thanks for the robes,” he said, passing them on his way to the bathroom.
“No problem,” the three called back.
Remus stepped into the bathroom and his eyes were instantly drawn to the mirror when he saw something out of the ordinary. He moved closer, his eyes widening with every step he took. Scribbling across his forehead were the words, written in a flaming pink: I, Remus John Lupin, hereby profess my undying love for all things Slytherin. P.S. Lily’s tutoring you on Thursday at six thirty, don’t miss it. Love, Sirius.
The relative quiet of the third year boys’ dormitory was broken by a furious yell from the lavatory.
“Sirius Black, I’m going to murder you!”
James chuckled lightly. “Told you, mate.”