Interviewer (I): So, Professor, what do you think of the Marauders?
McGonagall (M): Who?
I: Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. I’m trying to get people’s opinions of them for the book I’m writing about them. What’s your most treasured memory of the four?
M: My most treasured ... (her lips go rather thin) Miss Price, do you not have better things to be getting on with?
I: Don’t worry, Professor, I’ll still get all my homework done. What is the memory that comes to mind when you think of those four special boys?
M: Probably their complete inability to listen to a word I say, yet somehow still get top marks. Now, I’m very busy, Miss Price, is there anything important you wish to speak to me about?
I: This is important. What would you say your experience has been like as an authority figure to the boys for so long?
M: (Quite darkly) Trying. If that’s all, Miss Price, you should really get along and enjoying the beautiful grounds before you leave for home, on Monday.
I: One last thing. If the naming off this book was up to you, what would it be?
M: I would call it “Martina Price really needs to be leaving now.” Happy?
I: Ecstatic. Thank you for your time, this has been most enlightening.
M: Go on, just go. And Marty?
I: Yes, Professor?
M: I hope that this book writing has not affected your overall grades this year. I expect no lower than an E, remember?
I: Yes, Professor. Don’t worry about me, Professor. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.
M: (Smiling slightly) I hope not.
Chapter Three: A Victim
[Remus]
“So, Moony, when’s the next full moon?” James asks.
I look up from my book, sharply. “July 24th,” I reply, cautiously. I remember the transformation a week ago, the last of this school year and am torn between smiling and grimacing. We had gone out of the Shack and into the Grounds and I had almost got free from them “ there was a young couple still out late in Hogsmeade and it took both Prongs and Padfoot to stop me going after them and “ well, whatever I would have done, it wouldn’t have been fun. In the morning, the others had laughed at our close call, but “ as ever “ I could not entirely see the funny side, which eventually Peter picked up on, silencing the others with a rare moment of leadership.
“So, how are you going to cope without us there?” Sirius asks, looking a little worried. I smile, remembering for a moment how terrified I was that my friends would desert me for my secret, when I first arrived five years ago.
“I coped before, Sirius and I’ll cope again.”
“Yeah, but now you’ve kind of gotten used to us being about and stuff ... maybe it’s worse than you remember.”
I give him a sharp look. He recoils slightly. “You think,” I say softly, fighting to keep my emotions down. “That I would forget something like that?”
Sirius says nothing. James leans forward. “That’s not what he’s saying, Moony, he’s just worried about you.”
“Then tell him there’s no need and I’ll be fine. I coped before and I’ll cope again. All right?”
“Remus,” Peter says timidly. “Um ... how do you cope over the holidays? I mean “ is there a Whomping Willow in your back garden, too?”
Now, Sirius and James have both looked up and leaned in closer without realising it. Nosy gits.
“There’s a ... we have a ...” my voice trails off and I look down at my hands, trying to quash the feelings of shame that always rise up when the subject is addressed. I know my friends don’t hold my condition against me, but I can never quite help but be ashamed. “We have a secure building near the house. The land we moved to when we first found out, it had some outhouses, one of which my Dad converted into something that could ... contain me.” I shudder internally at the thought of that cold building, its steel doors, my parents’ faces as they shut me in.
“Cool,” Sirius says, grinning. “So, we’ll come visit, yeah? You can let us in before you change and we can wait until you come and we can help you out. Easy.”
“What?” I splutter, appalled. “No! Sirius, it’s too dangerous, you don’t know the area, someone could get hurt! What if you were found, you could“” I lower my voice, ““You could go to Azkaban!”
Peter speaks up, unsurely, “They wouldn’t put three kids into Azkaban, Moony.”
“You’re not three kids any more,” I say heatedly, trying not to draw attention to our conversation. “You’ll all be of age next year! They’ll do anything for an arrest these days, you guys know that!”
“We don’t care,” James says flippantly. “We’re helping you out. You said yourself it’s so much better than before when we’re around. You shouldn’t have to go through that again.”
“But I can cope, James, I’ll be all right!”
“Come on, Moony,” Peter prompts. “We’re your mates. We want to help you.”
“I know that and I’m grateful, but “”
“You never complain here,” Sirius says. “What’s the difference?”
“The difference is that you’d be on my parents land. You wouldn’t be the only ones who got in trouble, you know.”
“We can risk it, we won’t get caught,” James says, shrugging. Doesn’t anyone get it?
“No, you can’t risk it, James! I’m not getting my parents into trouble, I owe them too much as it is!”
“But don’t you think your parents would want your time to be easier on you?” Peter asks. I am beginning to lose patience.
“I don’t care! I won’t let you risk so much for me! You know, maybe I should start complaining about you guys helping here, too, if this is your attitude. It’s not a game! You don’t know what it’s like, turning into a monster every month!”
“Oh, don’t start that victim thing with us, Remus Lupin,” Sirius sneers. “We all know your tragic fate.”
The look on his face causes anger to bubble up inside of me. And, as always in these situations, I start to feel the wolf inside growing stronger and try desperately to suppress it “ but this time, it’s harder. Maybe it’s all in my head, maybe I just imagine it inside me, feeding off my emotions. But whenever I imagine it getting stronger, I get suddenly scared and that just makes it worse.
“Victim? You think I’m being a victim, Sirius Black?” I spit out, glaring at him.
“Come on, Moony, that’s not what he meant,” James says.
“It bloody well is!” Sirius protests.
“D’you know what, Sirius? I am a victim! At four years old, I was attacked by a savage monster and now I’m cursed for the rest of my life! I think that just about counts!”
“That’s not being a victim, that’s being unlucky,” Sirius snarls. “Being a victim is harping on about it like no one else has problems and then refusing help when it’s offered to you!”
I stand and slam down the heavy book I had balanced on my lap seconds before. “Oh, go and die somewhere, then!” I say loudly and stalk away.
“Remus, no, wait!” Peter calls after me. I ignore him.
“You shouldn’t have said that, Sirius,” I hear James say.
“Whatever, Prongs.”
I slam the Portrait Hole shut behind me.
“There’s no need for that sort of treatment, young man,” the Fat Lady protests. “Do you know how old I am?”
I ignore her and thrust my hands in my pockets before storming darkly away.
[Marty]
Sitting on my bed in the Dorm, I am analysing the extra signatures I got from the Marauders when they signed my campaign. I have done Sirius’s, coming to the conclusion that he is both arrogant and highly born, yet trying to suppress it. James, according to his signature, seems to have the same elegant, upper-class flair, but is far too energetic and busy to spend too much time worrying about presentation. Peter has his mind elsewhere and no desire at all to keep himself “ or his writing “ immaculate. Which leaves Remus, who “ I have to admit “ I am finding a little more difficult.
I sit back for a minute and relax; or, as good as. My head is buzzing with excitement over the sheer popularity of my campaign, as I now have eighty-three signatures in total, after just three days of inadvertent promotion from the Marauders. Even the girls in my dorm signed up and they’re usually pretty sceptical about my campaigns.
“Hey, Marty,” Mary had said, yesterday, “That petition you have “ did James Potter sign it?”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking she would just ask to see his signature, so she could pretend it was on their marriage certificate or something (her infatuation with him is quite renowned, although James seems to neither notice nor care “ it doesn’t take daily observations to realise that he has a thing for Lily). Instead, she asked if she could sign it, too.
“And can I use the same quill and ink that he did?”
“Uh, sure, Mary. I have it right here.”
And while she was doing that, Roxie spoke up, too (a rarity in itself. She’s not shy, she just doesn’t see the need to talk all the time. That’s what I heard her tell Mary one time, anyway). “Did his friends sign it, too?”
“Yes, they did,” I confirmed, bemused but happy at the attention “ usually the girls don’t bother to talk to me. Not that I mind. I’m fine by myself. But still. “All the Marauders did.”
“Even Peter?” she asked breathlessly.
“Peter?” Phyll scoffed, turning round from the mirror she was brushing her short blonde hair in. “You like Peter?“
“He’s sweet,” Roxie insists, blushing. “Not smart like the others. I couldn’t go out with someone smart, because I’m not smart and what would we talk about? He’s just sweet.”
“But kind of odd looking, though. Not like Sirius. Did he sign it?” she sucks in her breath and closes her eyes, smiling as she sees something in her mind’s eye. “He’s so gorgeous!”
And then she and Roxie signed the petition too. It is in this way that I have managed to obtain most of my signatures since the Marauders signed up, something I haven’t failed to record for The Book (influence being a large part of who we are). Not just girls either “ the boys of the school aren’t interested in the Marauders romantically, but they certainly look up to the four and pretty much want more than anything, to be noticed and respected by them.
As I reflect on this, I stow away my notes into the Fifth Year file to complete at a later date, before storing the overflowing file in the bottom of my trunk, ready to join the others on my Marauder shelf at home, where I also have files for Fourth and Third Years, as well as the “Things I Can Remember From First And Second Year” file.
I wonder what to do next. There are still a few days until we go home and nothing in particular to do until then. Most people are spending time with their friends, enjoying the sunshine ... but I have no one to do that with. I get up off my bed and head to the window. It’s just after dinner and the sun is on it’s way down, very slowly. Maybe I should do some more research for the evening. There was a footnote in Pixies And Mythology about another book, apparently one by the Professor who first studied Pixies hundreds of years ago“ it’ll be hard work to read thoroughly, but perhaps Madam Pince has it in her collection, anyway. I make my mind up and grab my cloak as I leave the Dorm and head down the stairs.
As always, I locate the Marauders when entering a room. It’s just habit, really. I notice that Remus is not there and they are looking very depressed about something. I make a mental note to record it, later “ they are always fighting and bickering, but nothing serious ever comes out of it all ... I think, in a way, it’s mostly for show. Real arguments don’t happen very often.
I make sure I pass them on my way out, in case they say something interesting, but they are silent, all looking in different directions. Where is Remus, I wonder? He has been known to go off on his own occasionally, has done all through his time here, but he did that a week ago, it’s not normally as often as that ... and the rest of the Marauders never sit around, brooding when it happens. In fact, they usually leave soon after. So what could they have fought about to bring this on?
I think on this as I make my way through the corridors, towards the Library, so it’s very disconcerting when I walk in, to find him sitting at one of the tables. Alone. And every other table is full. I smile to myself and go in search of Madam Pince to enquire about the book. Which turns out to be in the restricted section. Who knew pixies were so indecent?
But, on the way back from The Lion’s Den (Pince’s office) I see a book called Modern Moral Issues Facing Wizardkind which sounds like it might have some interesting points for The Cause, so I pick that up and make my way over to Remus’s table.
“Can I sit here?” I ask, brightly. “There aren’t really any other tables.”
He looks up from the book I suspect he wasn’t actually reading and shrugs. “Yeah, sure, Marty. Whatever.” And goes right back to staring at a picture of an old fashioned wizard (who knows, maybe he was quite modern in his day, but to me he looks old fashioned) having his legs gnawed off by several goats. How friendly of them.
“So how are you?” I ask, cheerily, hoping to find the true reason behind their fight “ it could be interesting for The Book “ another angle on their friendship.
“What? Oh “ uh, yeah. Great. Just reading about ... um ...” he seems to see the picture for the first time. “Goats.”
“I like goats,” I say, smiling. You should always try and be friendly, my Mum says. You never know who you might cheer up.
“Mmm,” is all Remus gives for an answer. I don’t let it deter me.
“I’m just researching some more issues that might need to be addressed for The Cause. I’m currently interested in pixies, as you know, but you can never have too many campaigns.”
“Mmm.”
“Thanks for signing the petition, by the way. You really started a trend. I think that, if things keep going, by the time I get home I’ll barely have to get signatures from customers at all! Of course, it’s much easier to get customers to sign than students, I’ve found, because we do really good coffee, so people are generally in good moods. And I think that The Plight Of The Pixie is an especially interesting one, that could grab people’s attention, you know? Because it’s got a really unusual “”
“Marty,” Remus says, groaning. “Do you ever shut up about your stupid Cause?”
I am a little abashed at this. Of course, if I was talking to Sirius I would expect that kind of thing, but not Remus “ he’s always a very polite kind of guy. There must be something wrong.
“What’s up, Remus?” I ask, kindly, trying to be compassionate and inviting to people’s confidence, the way my Mum can be for customers at the drop of a hat. She’s always having people sob their problems to her over their tea and scones. I’ve never quite had her subtlety, though.
“There’s nothing up,” he says. “I’d just like to be in peace, all right? Can people not just leave me alone?”
I fix him with what I hope is an understanding stare. He looks uncomfortable.
“Look, all right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just that “”
“What?” I prompt, eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly, he looks startled all of a sudden.
“Nothing. Nothing. I had a little row with my friends, that’s all. It’ll work out. I’ve gotta go. See you, Marty.”
He stands and leaves, placing the book back in a random place, as he goes. I can practically hear Madam Pince having a heart attack.
I watch him leave, frowning a little. Something about his demeanour has made me terribly concerned, like I want to help him. Possibly give him some hot chocolate and a pat on the head. Perhaps ... it’s possible that Remus Lupin just made himself my new, secret, Cause.
AN: Look out, Remus! =D Please review! How are you finding it so far?