Remus
Perhaps it’s what comes out of being a werewolf from such a young age, but the feelings of others have always shown through clearly to me. Perhaps it’s because of how I interpret the way others are speaking to me to see if they’ve found out what I am. I’m quite perceptive; sometimes I read into other’s emotions a lot more than I should. More than I want to. Certainly I’ve read quite a lot in Sirius’ passing remark about James’ best friend, Gemma Spinnet.
Sirius is quite a complex character. He’s from a family full of Dark wizards, and yet he seems like an ideal Gryffindor. But was it from my imagination that Sirius had added that remark with the (possibly subconscious) idea of driving a wedge between James and his best friend? Maybe he’s never known friendship, and is jealous that James, who seems to be his best friend, has another best friend. I look at Sirius, who’s now laughing merrily with James about some joke, and shake my head.
Stop reading so much into things, Remus, you’ve got enough on your plate for the moment. Who are you to scrutinise others, anyway? You’ve never had any friends since the age of five.
The thought is sobering, and I remain absolutely silent the rest of the time. It is all very well now, Sirius and James are friends with me. But what if they find out about my monthly transformations? Will they still be willing to be friends with me?
We reach the dim dungeons without much incident, and join the students already waiting outside. Sirius gives us both nudges with his bony elbows. “Look, it’s Snivellus,” he hisses.
I squint through the gloom and sure enough, I see Severus Snape. He’s not wearing his surly expression though, he seems to be almost smiling as he chats to Lily Evans.
“Look how greasy his hair is, Evans will probably be dripping oil,” James says, enjoying himself immensely. When I shoot him a dubious look, he adds, “Give it a few more seconds,” which causes Sirius to hoot with laughter. The door opens and our teacher appears.
“Now, now, what’s all this ruckus about?” the teacher asks, and it is hard not to stare at him. He has a walrus mustache, and is immensely large; the buttons on his front seem to be straining from the pressure of holding the two sides of his robes together. His eyes scan through us critically, and singles out Sirius, who is still laughing. “Ah, Sirius Black! Welcome to Hogwarts. I’d personally hoped you’d be in Slytherin you know, but you were sorted into Gryffindor…” He shakes his head and sigh, while Sirius looks at James and me quizzically. We shrug. “No matter, no matter, come on in, everyone!”
We file into the dungeons where the teacher tells us to sit in pairs, with whomever we like. I end up sitting with Mary Macdonald, who is in Gryffindor too. James and Sirius sit together in front of us. By the time we settle down, the teacher has already written three words on the chalkboard: Horace Slughorn (which I presume is his name), and Potions.
“Good morning, everyone,” the teacher booms. “I am your Potions master, Professor Horace Slughorn.” He looks around genially at everyone. “Now, I presume everyone has browsed through your copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?”
Everyone nods their heads rapidly, as if afraid of being the only one who hasn’t looked through it.
“Excellent!” Professor Slughorn smiles widely. It is fascinating to watch the ends of his walrus mustache inch upwards as he does so. I try not to stare so much. “So I’ll begin with some questions.
“What are some of the most common ingredients in potion-making? Lily Evans?” he asks, looking up from the class register he is holding.
Lily Evans says alertly, “Belladonna, scarab beetles, and ginger, to name a few. Of course, they can be found in our potions-making kit.” She grins at Slughorn, who chuckles. As he does so, his double chin wobbles comically. I can tell from the way James and Sirius are elbowing each other that they have noticed it, too.
“Very good, Lily,” Slughorn says, nodding at Lily and smiling. The ends of his moustache bob up again. Not that I’m staring at it. Well, not too much, at any rate. “You’re a cheeky one. Take ten points!
“Lucia Flint! Could you tell me what an ingredient is used in a potion to cure boils?”
I know this answer. The potion is first one in the book, and is the most basic of them all.
Lucia Flint turns out to be a Slytherin girl, who has a blank, foolish sort of face (probably due to the fact that her eyes are widely spaced). She proves to be as vacuous as she looks. “Erm, I don’t know, sir.”
“It’s all right,” Slughorn says kindly before looking at the class register again. “Then” Abeley Higgs, could you answer the question?”
Abeley Higgs is quick to reply. “One ingredient would be porcupine quills, sir.”
Slughorn beams. “Well done, Abeley! Ten points to Slytherin!” He looks around at all of us. “Now! I hope that you are all looking forward to brewing Potions! Potions isn’t all about just popping ingredients into your cauldron and stirring, you will need utmost concentration, and of course, no potion is complete without the maker’s magic.”
I jot down notes in point-form at the blank sides of One Thousand and One Magical Herbs and Fungi, and jump a little as Slughorn, who has walked down the aisle till he is right beside Mary and me, claps his hand loudly.
“All right! We will start with this potion!” He waves his wand at the chalkboard, and at once, instructions to making a potion start to scrawl themselves out. It turns out to be the very same potion for curing boils. “Any ingredients that aren’t included in your potions-making kit are available in the student’s store cupboard” “ he flicks his wand in the direction of a door and it opens, leading into a larder-like room” “so feel free to help yourselves. Work in your pairs, and you have the next forty-five minutes to prepare your potions. Begin now!”
Mary and I agree that I go get the ingredients while she sets the cauldron boiling. I hurry to the stores cupboard, almost bumping into Severus Snape, who hisses, “Watch where you’re going, Bigfoot!”
“Crazy Snivellus,” comes Sirius voice behind me. “You all right, Remus?”
It’s a very nice surprise to hear someone other than my parents ask if I’m all right. I grin at Sirius and say, “I’m fine, thanks.”
“So what do you make of this Slughorn character, eh?” he asks, smirking. “Did you see how his double chin trembled?”
“Alongside with his bobbing walrus moustache,” I quip. He bursts out laughing, to my surprise and delight. I’ve never had friends laughing at what I say. However, Slughorn turns to look at us and I feel a stab of guilt. “But he’s a very nice teacher,” I add quickly, as we make our way into the store cupboard.
“Yeah, a regular old softie,” Sirius agrees, getting some porcupine quills and passing them to me.
After getting all of the ingredients we need, we go back to our respective seats and carefully follow the instructions on the board. Mary and I take turns chopping up the ingredients and adding them to the potion accordingly, and at the right time. After about forty-five minutes, the potion is a brown colour, as opposed to the shimmery black it is supposed to be.
“What did we do wrong?” Mary says, feverishly tracing her fingers in the space between lines as she reads the instructions. “I thought we followed all the instructions.”
“We did,” I say, reading the instructions as carefully as I can, but Slughorn’s cry of “five minutes left!” makes me jumpy and I cannot concentrate.
As Slughorn passes by, Mary hails him and asks, “Professor, our potion’s gone brown, and we don’t know what we’ve done wrong. We’ve looked through the instructions countless of times.”
“You’ve probably missed a stir or two before adding the sprig of baby’s breath,” he explains. “There’s nothing you can do now, but it’s close enough for amateur potion-makers like you! Very good, the both of you!” He beams at us before continue his walk around the dungeon.
In no time, time is up, and everyone stops stirring their potions. Slughorn walks around examining each cauldron, and nods and explains where each pair has gone wrong. When he sees James and Sirius’, he commends on how their potion is black, which is a colour no pair has reached as of yet. What is needed to it to have the shimmer, Slughorn explains, are more porcupine quills. When he reaches Lily and Severus’ cauldron, he stops and stares. And then smiles the biggest smile he has smiled all lesson. His mustache goes crazy.
“We have our experts here!” he cries delightedly. “Everyone gather around Lily and””
He breaks off, looking questioningly at Severus Snape. “Severus Snape,” Snape mutters.
“Lily and Severus’ cauldron!” There is a noisy scraping of chairs as we all get up from our seats and go over to Lily and Snape’s table. The potion in their cauldron is the exact colour as described in the book.
“See how it is shimmery at the surface?” Slughorn points out. “Well done! Twenty points to Slytherin and Gryffindor each! Now, everyone clear their desks and afterwards you are all dismissed. Good job, all of you!”
Mary is a little dissatisfied that our potion isn’t mentioned, and I share her disappointment, too. I had wanted to be the best student in every lesson, to show Dumbledore that he hasn’t made a mistake in letting me attend Hogwarts. But it didn’t seem possible now.
My disappointment persists through the clean-up and afterwards. When Sirius and James join me they seem to sense it, too.
“What’s wrong, Remus?” James asks.
“Nothing,” I say, and force myself to smile. They won’t want to hear about it, anyway.
“C’mon, it’s not nothing, and you know it, so save us the trouble of pestering you and tell us, will you?” Sirius says.
Caving in because I also feel the need to pour out my troubles to friends, I tell them about how I want to be the best. Instead of just saying a few words of comfort and then going on to a more interesting topic, they take my problem seriously.
“That’s crazy,” James says. “Why would you want to be the best in everything?” He glances sideways at me. “You’re not a teacher’s pet, are you? I didn’t think you to be the type.”
I laugh. “No, I’m not.”
James and Sirius stare a little unconvincingly at me.
“Okay, maybe I am, a little,” I admit. “I just want to show Dumbledore that he hasn’t”” I stop myself just in time.
“Show Dumbledore what?” Sirius asks.
“Show him that I’m worthy of Hogwarts,” I say. There, I’ve managed to hide my problem, but instead I sound like a sad little swot.
“Remus, that’s just insane,” Sirius says seriously. “I mean, it wouldn’t be living. Living means you’ve got to let go a little; be wild sometimes.”
I inexplicably think about my transformations. I certainly become wild in those times. Literally. “Oh, I do get wild sometimes,” I say truthfully.
Sirius and James grin. “Now that’s living,” James says.
Just then, Gemma’s voice comes from behind. “Hey, James, d’you want to have lunch with us?”
We all turn around to see her, along with Mary.
“James is having lunch with us,” Sirius says. It may be just me, but there is a note of coolness in his tone that wasn’t there a moment ago.
“Oh, right,” Gemma says, looking a little surprised. “I mean, all of you could join Mary and me for lunch, of course.”
“All right,” James says, smiling. “We’ll all join you and Mary for lunch. All right, Sirius, Remus?”
“It’s fine with me,” I say, nodding.
“It’s okay,” Sirius says. The cool note is still there.
There is an awkward pause” and then suddenly Gemma and James start talking about how they find the lessons this morning. We all chip into the conversation, apart from Sirius, who doesn’t say much at all.
An unbidden thought makes its way into my mind. Is Sirius jealous of Gemma, somehow?
Then Mary asks me a question about Charms that I have no answer to, and I tell her that I am not sure. But what I am sure about is this: I have a lot to learn about my new friends.
And I am looking forward to it.
Peter
Stewart, a few other first years from Gryffindor, and I are eating our lunch when an owl soars into the Great Hall and deposits its mail in front of Sirius, who is sitting along the table a little way from us with James, Remus, and a two other Gryffindor girls whose name I do not know. As most of the owls have arrived and delivered their owners their respective presents or letters in the morning, all eyes follow the lone owl.
When Sirius sees the letter attached to the owl’s feet, he groans loudly. “It’s a Howler,” he announces to the people sitting around him.
“A Howler?” I say, turning to look at Stewart for an explanation. Although I’m Half-Blood, I don’t know quite a lot of things that happen in the magical world because my mother doesn’t exactly sit me down and tell me everything that goes on.
Stewart explains, “A Howler is a sort of letter that””
But he is cut off as Sirius opens the letter, and a screechy female voice that is a hundred times louder than Stewart’s fill the Great Hall.
“WE’VE NEVER FELT SO ASHAMED OUR WHOLE LIVES WHEN WE READ THE LETTER YOUR COUSIN NARCISSA WROTE TO US. WE’VE KNOWN ALL ALONG THAT YOU WEREN’T AS SUITABLE AN HEIR AS YOUR BROTHER REGULUS WOULD BE, BUT TO HEAR THAT YOU WERE SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR IS SOMETHING THAT WE HAVE NEVER EXPECTED FROM EVEN YOU. YOUR FATHER IS ON HIS WAY TO HOGWARTS TO REQUEST THAT YOU SWITCH TO SLYTHERIN. DO AS YOU’RE TOLD TO SALVAGE WHAT IS LEFT OF YOUR REPUTATION.”
The Hall is silenced as the Howler curls up and bursts into flames.
“” does just what that Howler did,” finishes Stewart lamely.
Everyone stares at Sirius, probably wondering what he is going to do. Sirius doesn’t seem to know that he is being observed by hundreds of pairs of eyes.
“Reputation, schmeputation,” he dismisses loudly to his friends. “I am definitely not going to switch to Slytherin and be roommates with slimy Snivellus.” His friends hoot with laughter and James slaps him on the back. They continue eating.
My eyes jump to the Slytherin table. I know who exactly “slimy Snivellus” is, seeing as James” the bespectacled boy” had called Severus Snape that just the night before. He is not there. Neither is his friend, the nice girl called Lily Evans.
Slowly, the buzz of chatter returns, and before long, everyone is talking, the Howler and Sirius Black forgotten.
Sirius
James, Remus, Gemma, Mary, and I are hurrying to Transfigurations when a burly Hufflepuff stops me in the corridor.
“You Sirius Black?” he grunts. “Dumbledore told me to look for some tall, dark-haired Gryffindor first-year.”
“That’s me,” I say, shooting glances at James and Remus. They’re both frowning, and I know that they suspect what I suspect: my father is already in the Headmaster’s office, and that my presence is required.
“Dumbledore wants you to go to his office. He didn’t say why.” The Hufflepuff looks keenly at me, as if waiting for me to explain. I don’t.
“Where is his office?”
“I’ll take you.”
I wave goodbye to James and Remus, and a nod to Gemma and Mary, before setting off after the Hufflepuff. He brings me to a pair of stone gargoyles and says, “Peppermint Pixies!” It seems to be the password, as the stone gargoyles spring aside, revealing a door. The Hufflepuff ushers me through the door and up on the first stair of the staircase. As soon as we’re on it, the staircase spirals upwards and we find ourselves before another oak door. The boy knocks and calls out, “Sirius Black here to meet you, sir.”
“Ah, excellent, Wesley,” comes Dumbledore’s voice. “Please send him in.”
Wesley opens the door and pushes me into a very fine-looking circular room full of books and various strange objects. Dumbledore sits behind a table, and before him sits a wizard who I know to be my father.
Dumbledore turns to face us, smiling. “Thank you, Wesley. You may leave now.”
Wesley turns to leave reluctantly, obviously wishing he could stay and find out what this is all about. I, on the other hand, have no other wish than to leave.
“Good afternoon, Mr Black,” Dumbledore says, beams at me. “As you can see, your father came to me with a request.”
My father stands. “Sirius,” he acknowledges.
“Hello, Father,” I say.
“Headmaster, I want my son to be transferred to Slytherin,” Father says, turning back to Dumbledore.
I don’t want to be transferred to Slytherin. I would rather be force-fed poison and have all my fingernails pulled out.
“Ah, so you have told me,” Dumbledore says to Father patiently. “But what I was wondering is… does Sirius here want to be transferred to Slytherin too?”
“I” what?” my father asks in disbelief. He turns to look at me. “Headmaster, Sirius does want to be transferred to Slytherin. Do you not, Sirius?” His grey eyes, so like mine, flashes at me, daring me to disagree.
Oh, yes, as much as I want to be Snivellus, I think.
“No, I don’t,” I say loudly and defiantly. “Slytherin’s the last house I’d want to be in.”
My father’s mouth drops open in disbelief. Then disbelief becomes anger. “You silly boy! Slytherin’s the best place for you, Sirius. No one in Gryffindor would want to be your friend””
I shake my head. “I do have friends, Father,” I say. “They don’t discriminate against me. Unlike Mother and you.”
Father turns red in the face. “You unreasonable boy!” he says, then turns to Dumbledore. “The Sorting Hat must have made a mistake, Headmaster.”
“The Sorting Hat has always been right, but if you want to, Sirius can put it on and be Sorted again,” Dumbledore says courteously.
“Yes, that’s what I want,” Father says savagely, before attempting to calm himself down and adding, “Headmaster.”
Professor Dumbledore takes the Hat from off its shelf, and brings it to me. Before he puts it on my head, he looks at me with his piercing blue eyes, as if telling me to stop him, encouraging me to defy my father…
And I take heed.
“Father, what do you not understand?” I ask testily. “I want to be in Gryffindor. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have never wanted to be in Slytherin.”
My father stares at me. “Never?” he asks.
“Never,” I confirm.
He stares at me, and I stare back.
“I still want you to try on the Hat,” he says.
I look at him in disbelief, then at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore puts the Hat on my head and before I can begin to protest, he says quietly, “It won’t matter, Sirius,” and winks.
That alone sends me back into silence.
“You again?” comes the Hat’s disgruntled voice, seemingly in my head. “I was just ready for a nice long rest until the next year.”
Yes, me again, I think. My father wants to know if I’m really in Gryffindor.
“You’re brave and daring, to the point of stupidity,” says the Hat lazily. “Tell him that.” Then it shouts, “GRYFFINDOR!”
And then Dumbledore removes the Hat from my head.
“Er”” I clear my throat. Both men look at me. “The Sorting Hat wants you to know that I’m brave and daring to the point of stupidity, Father.”
I feel like bursting into laughter at the sight of Father’s furious face. “All right,” he says. “All right. Gryffindor it is. Thank you, Headmaster. See you at Christmas, Sirius.” And then he exits the office.
“Welcome again to Gryffindor,” Dumbledore says quietly, his eyes twinkling.
“Thanks, Professor,” I say, grinning.
“Now, why don’t you join your housemates in Transfigurations with Professor McGonagall? I think you’re a little late,” he says, and hands me a note tied with a silver ribbon. “Hand this to her, and I daresay you will not be interrogated.” He smiles, and I mumble another thank you before leaving.
My father has often said that Dumbledore is a deluded, Muggle-loving fool.
I find that I really like this deluded, Muggle-loving fool.
James
Professor McGonagall, our Head of House and Transfigurations teacher, is halfway through explaining the theories of said subject when there is a knock on the door, and less than a second later, the door bursts open, and Sirius dashes into the class.
“I see you have kindly decided to join us, Mr Black,” Professor McGonagall said. “I was almost led to think that you have decided to skip classes.”
“Oh no,” Sirius assures her, “I would never dream of skipping classes.”
I am dying to drag him to the seat Remus and I’ve saved for him, and demand what has happened in Dumbledore’s office. Sirius hands Professor McGonagall a letter. She opens it, reads it, and nods at him, almost smiling. Then, at my wave, he heads to the empty seat between Remus and me.
“What happened? Are you still in Gryffindor?” I demand in a strangled voice.
He looks at me, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief. “Where else would I be?”
“Excellent!” Remus and I hiss, and I add dramatically, “I am about to faint with happiness.”
“I’d like to see you do that,” Sirius says, his eyes glinting with amusement.
I promptly sprawl over my desk in a realistic swoon (if I do say so myself).
“Potter, do rouse yourself from your sudden fainting fit, we have a class to carry on,” says Professor McGonagall’s crisp voice, and a few students nervously giggle.
I immediately sit up and find Sirius and Remus trying to contain their laughter.
“Of course, Professor,” I say, grinning at my two friends. “I would never dream of interrupting your class.”
A/N: Well, here's the fourth chapter! What do you think of it?