Late Arrival
Needless to say, the Slytherins were not thrilled when they passed by the four giant hourglasses keeping track of the House points and discovered the emeralds in the Slytherin hourglass were a lot less than they remembered. Remus was not feeling at all pleasant when he declared that thirty five points would be taken from Slytherin for cowardly hexing. The Ravenclaws were overjoyed when they saw this, as they had been neck and neck with the Slytherins for the past month and could not find any way of overtaking them. Of course, James and Sirius were now bent on revenge against Snape and his cronies. They spent their time in class hissing out of the corners of their mouths the most outrageous plans, one of which involved turning Snape into an exact replica of Marie Antoinette. When Remus asked Sirius how he knew who the former queen of France was, he shrugged and said he saw a picture of her on the cover of a book in a trash bin outside his house.
James and Sirius went about their planning in their usual giddiness, Peter offering to help them eagerly, while Remus fought between trying to dissuade them from executing this scheme or offering up his own services as well. They had decided to run with Sirius’s idea of turning Snape into the French woman who was unfortunate enough to become better acquainted with a guillotine and periodically the three boys could be found poring through the oddest of books, some of which were entitled Looking for a Fancy New Do and Don’t Know the Proper Spell to Achieve it? In fact, James, Sirius and Peter were so concerned about this prank of theirs that their homework had mounted to such a staggering rate that they could never hope to catch up with it.
They frequently begged Remus, who was caught up with all of his assignments as he desperately needed something to quiet the arguing voices in the back of his head, to have a look at his essays. At first, he refused, shoving his essays out of sight and into his bag. After a while, however, they became so desperate that Remus was almost inclined to feel bad for them and he gave them just the general idea of what they were supposed to be writing about. It was enough to get them started, at any rate.
“How’s your mum?” Lily asked one night as she and Remus patrolled the third floor corridor. Now that Head Girl Cooper was on severe notice from Professor Dumbledore, every Prefect was taking advantage of her, requesting certain parts of the castle to patrol and the nights on which they wished to patrol. Remus and Lily had jumped on the chance to do the same; they did not want to patrol the Astronomy Tower for the rest of their careers at Hogwarts. Cooper was reluctant on doing anything that made Remus happy, but she had no other option.
Remus, who was thinking of how many ways his friends could find his homework (which was locked up under the newspaper lining of his owl’s cage), was startled by this question. He blinked a few times before only the latter part of the query sunk in. “Huh? What about my mum?”
Lily frowned, turning her head to the side to get a better look at him. “Is she feeling alright? You haven’t been to visit her in a few weeks.”
“Oh, yeah, I suppose she is…” Remus hastily tried to remember what they day was. If he was correct, it was the seventeenth of October. He would not have to disappear until the twentieth and, mercifully, he did not have Prefect duties that night. Unlike the other full moons, he was not anticipating this one with dread, more with excitement. Now that his friends could become Animagi, he didn’t have to spend the entire night biting and scratching himself.
“Did you do Slughorn’s essay on the properties of moonstones?” Lily asked, quickly changing the clearly uncomfortable subject.
Remus grimaced at the memory of it. “Yeah, that took forever to do.”
“It wasn’t so hard.”
“Says Slughorn’s favourite student.”
Lily’s face turned red, though she could not keep the small smile from creeping onto her lips. “I’m not his favourite.”
“No, of course not,” Remus chided her as they rounded the corner. “He just loves fawning over you every single lesson.”
“Speaking of Potions,” Lily pushed on loudly. “Do you still want me to tutor you this year? I thought you were getting on rather well last year.”
Remus nodded vehemently at the offer. “I think I need your help anyway, with the OWLs coming up and all.”
Lily grimaced at the mention of the infamous exams. “Don’t remind me. I heard from some of the older students that we have to get career advices from our Head of House. D’you know if that’s true?”
Remus nodded. His father had told him about it on their way to King’s Cross this year. He would have to talk to Professor McGonagall about his possible career options. Remus had wanted to laugh at this, but refrained from doing so when he saw the look on his father’s face. Remus knew they were thinking along the same lines: Who would want to hire a werewolf? “Do you have any idea what you want to be?”
Lily shook her head. “Not really, actually. I don’t really know all of the different Wizarding jobs. But I heard they give us pamphlets about all the different career choices.” She paused and held her lighted wand up, looking around as something rustled around them. The next second she saw an open window and realised it was simply the wind rustling the trees on the grounds. “How about you? Do you know what you want to be?”
Remus shrugged. “No… no, not really. There’re too many options to think of right now.” That was true; there was a myriad of selections. It was only that every time he thought of applying for a job, the incredulous or horrorstricken looks of his potential employers flooded his mind.
“Well, we have months to think about it, don’t we?” Lily went on optimistically, running the light from her wand across the stone floor.
Remus smiled. This was a nice thought, at least. “Yeah, we have months.”
The day of October twentieth seemed to drag on endlessly. It was a Monday and, for the Gryffindor fifth years, this meant double Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Kern, who still spoke in his monotone voice, not recognising the dulled expressions on his students’ faces to be ones of them being stuck in stupors. They thought there could never be a teacher more boring than Professor Binns; they had finally found a contender. The fifth years sat slumped in their seats as the man droned on about the proper usage of defensive spells. He didn’t even bother to demonstrate, which would have been the preferable course of action. Perhaps, if he did show them how to use the spells, the spell would backfire and send him into an irreversible coma and they would not have to listen to him any longer. No, they were not that lucky.
“James,” Sirius whispered out of the corner of his mouth. James was sitting with his head in his arms, his eyes half open. Sirius could swear there was drool leaking out of his best friend’s mouth and dripping onto the desktop. “James!” Sirius nudged him forcefully.
“What?” James hissed irritably, pushing Sirius’s arm away.
“Pinch me.”
James blinked. “Why?”
“So I can be sure I’m not having a nightmare.”
James shifted in his head, making himself more comfortable. “Pinch yourself.” Sirius shrugged and pinched himself, receiving a sharp pain that told him he was indeed awake.
On James’s other side sat Frank Longbottom, who was muttering repeatedly, “I want my life back. I want my life back.” Lily and Alice had abandoned all pretenses of pretending to pay attention and were playing Hangman on a blank sheet of parchment in Lily’s unused notebook. Peter was trying to scratch a chip in the wood of his desk out with his quill, knowing that he was not achieving anything by doing this. Remus was on Peter’s right side, blatantly asleep and snoring lightly. His fellow Gryffindors were amazed that Kern didn’t notice one of his students was ignoring him in such a way, especially since Remus was in full view of the rambling professor.
“And that is why a Shield Charm is best used during a situation where you will need to shield yourself,” Kern concluded, still staring at his textbook.
“Really?” Sirius remarked sarcastically, just loud enough for Kern to hear him. He had perked up in his seat and was wearing a look that suggested he was a three year old who had just discovered the joys of ice cream.
“Yes, Mr. Black, that is why.” Evidently Kern’s sarcasm metre wasn’t working properly. Any other teacher would have registered his sardonic voice in a second.
Sirius glanced amongst his fellow classmates, who were desperately trying to keep their chuckles in. “I never would have guessed!”
The bell blared from above them and every student had to restrain the cheers they so wanted to shout. In one swift motion, the entire class had made a break for the door, resulting in several collisions. Once they were safely down the hallway, the mutinous cries began again, and this time Lily was doing nothing to stop them.
“Push him out the window!” James declared, punching his fist in the air.
“Take his vocal chords out!” Sirius added.
“If you took his vocal chords out, you wouldn’t need to push him out the window,” Remus commented quietly, rubbing his eyes. “Kern is bearable when he’s unable to talk.”
“Yeah, we saw you were bearing him quite well.” Sirius walked ahead of the group and turned around, pointing to the corner of his own mouth. “By the way, Remus, you’ve got drool on your face. Right about there “ you see?”
Remus turned away from the rest of the group and wiped the corner of his mouth on his sleeve. “Git.”
“I’m with them on this,” Peter said, going into a huge yawn. “That was terrible.”
“Do you mean we’re going to have to run another teacher out of this school?” Alice asked, a smirk playing on her lips.
“No, someone else will probably do it before we do,” James told her, shrugging.
“I doubt it,” Lily muttered under her breath.
“What was that, Evans?”
“Nothing.”
“What’ve we got next?” Frank asked.
“History of Magic,” Lily informed him, grimacing at the thought.
“This day just keeps getting better.” Frank, Lily and Alice continued on to the History of Magic classroom while James, Sirius, Remus and Peter hung back.
“I’m think I’m going to go to the Hospital Wing,” Remus said, hitching his bag higher up his shoulder.
Sirius laughed. “Why bother? You can just take another nap in Binns’s class, he won’t notice.”
“Yes, but a bed in the Hospital Wing is a lot more comfortable than a wooden desk.” Remus yawned widely. “See you later.” And he took off in the opposite direction.
Sirius raised an eyebrow at James, who knew at once what his best friend was thinking.
“We can only help him during the actual full moon, not the day leading up to it.”
There was something about this month’s transformation that was unlike any other Remus had ever experienced in the twelve years he was a werewolf. It was painful, of course, when would there ever be a time when it wasn’t painful? He couldn’t stop the pain of his body morphing out of its natural form. But he was not dreading the night as much as he usually did. His heart still raced, pounding loudly and constantly against his ribcage, but his mouth did not go dry and the sweat that broke out on his forehead was less than usual. He could find no other explanation for this other than the fact that he knew he was not going to be alone tonight. He knew that he would not have to endure the monthly scratches and bites he inflicted upon himself. He knew there was a smaller chance of being incapacitated in the Hospital Wing for longer than he would like.
Remus sat on the dusty, wooden floor of the top floor in the Shrieking Shack, leaning against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his kneecaps, staring into his lap. His breaths were coming in steadily, not the ragged ones that he had every other month before this one. He knew his friends would be there soon; they had promised they would not wait too long to join him. They were probably hurrying down the grassy grounds under James’s Invisibility Cloak at this very moment, getting Peter to prod the tiny knot under the trunk of the Whomping Willow. He amused himself for a moment as he tried to imagine a stag, a large dog, and a little rat travelling under the Invisibility Cloak. Would James and Sirius accidentally tread on Peter? Would James’s antlers tear through the material on the cloak? No they weren’t stupid enough to dream of transforming under the cloak.
Full moon’s playing tricks with my head.
Remus gazed out the smeared window across the room; it had yet to allow in the trail of golden moonlight, but it was already fairly dark out. The moon would rise soon; it was only a matter of minutes. He looked up at the doorway and saw it was still empty. He wasn’t surprised; his friends couldn’t very well come in during his transformation, best not to catch a transforming werewolf off guard. Besides, he doubted his friends really wanted to bear witness to it. James and Sirius had heard him transform when they were at his house, but he knew they never actually wanted to see it. He knew he would never want to witness one of his friends have to go through this pain. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the first shades of moonlight fall into the room. This was it.
The pain that hit was too familiar to surprise him anymore. When he was younger, he used to be constantly shocked at the viciousness of the transformation. Not any longer. It was habit, tradition, by now to take it in shouts rather than silence. Taking it in silence was impossible, anyhow. It was physically impossible for him to keep his jaw clenched shut; his head would implode from the cries he was trying to restrain. His bones snapped and lengthened to accommodate his wolfish side. His green irises flashed and turned to a fierce gold. Hair sprouted over every inch of his body. And then it stopped.
The wolf lay on the cold, wooden floor, whimpering slightly before rising shakily to his feet. The wolf seemed to remember something from his human side “ he was not supposed to be alone tonight. There were supposed to be three animals here with him. Instinctively, he looked toward the doorway, only to find that it was still empty. His friends had not arrived yet. No problem; there were plenty of things to keep them from arriving on time. Perhaps Peeves was sending down some chandeliers in the Entrance Hall. That would be enough to keep anyone from getting where they wanted to be. No one wanted to walk around with large shards of glass sticking out of their head.
After fifteen minutes, it appeared to the wolf that his animal friends were not going to show up and he reverted to the old standby “ biting and scratching himself to make up for the lack of someone else’s flesh. Only, this time, it was with a force he had never before had. He could only attribute this to one thing “ his friends had not shown up. They had abandoned him to another lonely night in the Shrieking Shack. Maybe things had not gone as well as they had said the previous month and they chose not to get themselves in trouble again? Maybe they didn’t tell him this because they didn’t want to upset him? But why give him the false hope? The wolf raised a clawed paw, ready to bring it down across his face.
And he was stopped.
A large, black Labrador was on its hind legs, using its front legs to wrap around the wolf’s raised paw. Even as a dog, there was a familiar look of determination in his eyes that showed he was, indeed, Sirius Black. But the wolf, caught up in his rage, angrily threw the dog off his paw. The dog dropped to the floor beside a stag and a rat. The stag reared his head towards the rat and to the back wall, as if, if he were human, he would be jerking his head to tell the rat to go stand by the wall where it was safest. The rat did not hesitate to obey and scurried to the far wall of the Shrieking Shack.
The stag and dog were large enough to keep the wolf under check in case he got caught up in a rage, as he was in now. They really couldn’t blame him; they had been so late it must have looked like they were not going to show up at all. But now that they were here, they could hardly let him continue to demolish himself in this violent way. Wolf or not, he was still Remus Lupin when the night ended. He was still their friend whom they had promised to help. The stag and dog revolved slowly around the wolf, holding their breath, waiting for the moment the wolf might let his guard down and make any sudden movements. They had only dealt with a werewolf once, and he had not been upset then.
Now they were faced with an entirely new situation. How do you calm an upset werewolf?
Challenge him to a fight? They could do that, if the werewolf was in his human form. It would be less dangerous that way, though not all together possible at the moment. The dog and stag exchanged glances, both thinking along the same lines. They had to show the wolf, once again, that they were not his enemies. Last time they had no problem achieving this. Then again, last time they had not been late and the wolf had no expectations that he would not be alone for the duration of the night. The dog cautiously approached the wolf, whose jaw was set and whose yellow eyes were alert.
The dog took a step backwards as a low snarled ripped from the wolf’s throat. This was not going to be easy. The dog turned to the stag, as if asking if it was wise to continue. The stag made no suggestion that it was not unwise to do so. The dog tentatively stepped forward, each step deliberately calculated so as to not unsettle the wolf further. The dog inclined his head ever so slightly and, when the wolf did not strike out or back away, gently nudged the wolf’s left front leg in a manner that said: I’m your friend; I’m not here to hurt you.
The wolf recoiled at first and then something clicked in the back of his mind “ a human voice that recognised the dog and the stag and even the rat huddled against the wall. The wolf growled, though not in intimidation or ferocity. It was a growl of recognition, a growl that showed he knew who they were and he was not going to hurt them. And with this bit of reassurance, the night commenced on a lighter note than it had begun on.
“How much homework do we have left?”
“Defence Against the Dark Arts essay.”
“Brilliant.”
“Transfiguration questions.”
“I can deal with that.”
“Charms, Potions, and I believe you said you had a Muggle Studies essay to do.”
Sirius let out a cry of frustration and banged his forehead three times on the table he was sitting at. It seemed all they had been doing lately was homework. Since they had woken up, they had to go to class, do class work, and then come back to the common room and do homework. It didn’t help that they were dead tired after spending the better part of the night running around the Shrieking Shack with a werewolf. Still, the night had been fun once the initial fierceness had passed and they knew they would rather be doing that than writing countless essays.
“This is torture, that’s what this is,” Sirius declared mutinously.
“Yes, perish the thought. Imagine, teachers doing their job.”
“I thought you were supposed to be in the Hospital Wing.”
Remus had settled himself at their table, sitting between James and Peter. He certainly looked tired with the dark circles under his eyes, but there was a minimal amount of fresh scratches on his face and hands. The scratches that were there could be called just that “ scratches. They were not lacerations or gashes seeping with blood as they usually would be. James, Sirius and Peter exchanged quick grins, even with their lateness they managed to keep Remus from inflicting damage on himself.
Remus shrugged, covering his mouth to yawn. “Madam Pomfrey let me come back early.”
“Really?” James asked, amazed. “She shooed us out of there earlier, saying you’d be there until tomorrow morning.”
“I think she just doesn’t know what to do since I have no injuries.”
“You’d think she’d be thanking us,” Sirius lamented, stabbing his quill at his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay as he thought about what to write.
Remus rolled his eyes. “Because she’ll go right up to three boys she doesn’t even know are Animagi and say ‘thank you so much for giving me less work to do.’ That’s very likely, Sirius.”
“You’d think you’d be a little nicer to us, seeing as how we’re helping you.”
“I think I am being nicer, I haven’t thrown anything at you yet, have I?”
Peter looked up from his half-written Charms essay and looked between the two boys. “He has a point, you know.”
“Yeah,” James agreed, nodding vehemently. “By now one of you would’ve thrown something.” James scratched something out in his essay and frowned at it before returning his attention to his friends. “I’m disappointed.”
“Get over it,” Sirius shot at his friend.
The boys returned to their essays, occasionally muttering a swearword or a complaint or a suggestion as to where their professors could go. They had heard the warnings about fifth year from the older students; they had heard them numerous times. Why had they never thought to take them seriously? Was it because the other years had seemed a breeze and had no reason to cause alarm? But they knew that first through fourth year did not involve major exams that would help decide their future. Sure, just throw in some life determining situations and then you would get the boys absolutely terrified.
All around them in the common room were their fellow Gryffindors having fun. Some third years were playing a ferocious match of Exploding Snap. Some fourth years were trading their Chocolate Frog cards. There were also some first years laughing at a pitch that was far too distracting to concentrate in the slightest. Though he was not working at the moment, Remus still found it irritating enough that he went over to the group and threatened to deduct points from Gryffindor if they didn’t promptly shut up.
“Okay, I can’t concentrate,” Peter declared, throwing his quill down.
“Is it because everyone around us is allowed to have fun and we’re not?” Sirius questioned dryly, staring at his homework as though there were a fair few violent things he would like to do to it.
“Who says we’re not allowed to have fun?” James said innocently.
“The professors, the headmaster, the institution.”
Remus, whose head was resting in his folded arms on the table, opened one eye. “The institution?”
“Quiet, I’m having a moment.”
“As usual.”
“Seriously, we know this rubbish. Why do we have to write a million essays about it?”
“To prove you know it?”
“I said quiet, Remus.”
“Yes, you did.”
“And you’re still talking.”
“Yes, I am.” He smirked and shut his eyes again. The noise in the common room increased again as, from what it sounded like, some sixth years started tossing sweets to the younger students for no apparent reason. He groaned and was about to lift himself up to go tell the older students off, but a cry of female anger told him that Lily had this handled. He did, however, get up to go to the sanctity of the fifth year dormitory. Without his friends there, there would be some peace. Frank never disturbed him when he was sleeping. But, before he went up there, he had to make sure James and Peter were not entirely disappointed.
He had a crumpled piece of parchment in one of his pockets. Taking it out and gripping it in his fist, he called to Sirius.
“What?” Sirius replied, turning to see what Remus wanted, only to receive a ball of parchment to the face. Before he could react, Remus had disappeared up the stairs.
James and Peter laughed. “I feel better now.”
“Me too, James.”