All of his life, James Potter had gotten what he wanted. Never had someone uttered the two letter word that is so beneficial for children to hear on occasions, ‘no’. He had gone through his first ten years of life without a care.
Some might call him spoilt, and they would probably be correct, though there was a complexity to James that even he was not fully aware of, and would not be until much later.
James had developed as any little boy should, showing healthy amounts of interest in athletic activities as well as learning things. It was clear very early on that despite his slightly small and skinny build, he would be an excellent candidate for Quidditch. He took to a broomstick easily and never ceased to enjoy impressing visitors with his tricks. Nor was his brain lacking. He was a quick learner, and always seemed to be asking questions.
Now, all this was wonderful, but what of his character? One would expect a child as pampered as he was to grow up haughty and indifferent to others. In the case of James, there was no doubt that he had, as some would call it, ‘a head similar to a hot air balloon’. However, James was not oblivious to other people’s pain, and he had a sensitivity about him that could only be hindered by his arrogance. Neither his conceit or his thoughtful streak was challenged at home, and it was not until he started school at age eleven that he would have any cause to consider them at all.
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Sirius Black had always been rambunctious. As a baby, he was always fussing, -as a young child, he was always talking out of turn. His mother was consistently badgering him to not do this, or to keep out of that. The situation was really out of his hands, however. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not keep from being curious, loud, stubborn, or fidgety.
Though he was the eldest son, and thus had the largest bedroom, as well as the first and best of everything else by default, he was not the most loved. For as long as he could remember, he had been told how much smarter, how much sweeter, and how much better behaved his younger brother, Regulus, was. This hurt him more than he would let on, and he began to resent his family from an early age, pushing them away with as much ferocity as they pushed him.
When his letter from Hogwarts came, he became excited. He had no desire to make his family proud; that had faded at an early age. He wanted to rebel-- something he was good at. He wanted them to see how clever he was, but be unable to claim him. It was finally his turn to show them, and he had no intention of passing it up.
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If one were to pass by a certain house on the edge of a forest, and look through the trees, they would see a stream, most likely with the figure of a small boy beside it. Remus Lupin was a quiet boy, one who was apt to shut down or become passive, even cold, when upset. The traumas he had experienced had taught him that it did little good to convey feelings to others. They would not be able to help, and it would upset them needlessly. Even he, however, could not always keep himself in check, and the clearing in the woods was his only place to be alone.
He had never had friends, and he knew very little about what it would be like to have them. They didn’t live near anyone, and Remus declined all opportunities to interact with his parent’s friends children. He knew they would not like him. Even if he kept his lycanthropy a secret, he had convinced himself he was a rather dull and unlikeable person, and nobody would want to be around him anyways.
On the contrary, Remus was a very sweet, sensitive child, and he longed, desperately, for human companionship. However, he also had an unusual amount of self-control for a boy his age, and he would not leave himself open to it. He had been hurt too many times before; he couldn’t bear for it to happen again. Nevertheless, when he had been admitted to Hogwarts, against all odds, he could not help hoping that perhaps he would find a friend. That hope was something new to him, and he treasured it those last few months before the start of term.
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Peter Pettigrew was a short, rather chubby boy. His mother always told him he took after his father, who, when Peter was two, had run off with a pair of South American seers and an Arabian witch to search for the world’s hidden treasures. What exactly they were, Peter’s mother always said, she didn’t know. Apparently they had been unsuccessful, since Mr. Pettigrew never returned home laden with jewels as he had promised he would. Peter never gave up hope, though.
His father’s escapades gave Peter a sense of adventure that far outweighed his actual courage level. It is doubtful he would have truly found fighting a centaur enjoyable. He certainly did not really want to ride on a Muggle aeroplane. He fancied he did, however, and since nobody was there to challenge his bravery, he was quite full of it.
Being his mother’s pride and joy, he had almost not been allowed to go to school. She had wanted to teach him at home, but Hogwarts was an adventure Peter could not bear to pass up. She had relented eventually, and Peter began to prepare himself for what would surely be the most exciting thing that ever happened to him.
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Sirius had been waiting for the Sorting eagerly. He wanted to break the family tradition. Meeting James Potter had only made his resolve firmer. He was determined to be in a house other than Slytherin.
So, when he was called early on to be sorted (he was briefly grateful for the fact that his last name began with a ‘B’), he nearly ran to the stool. The hat began to speak almost as soon as he touched it to his head.
“A difficult choice, very difficult. You come from the Black family, which would point you towards Slytherin.”
Not Slytherin, please, anything but that, he thought.
“Oh! A rebel, I see. Plenty of courage and loyalty, that’ll be Gryffindor. Bright, though, very intelligent…Well, I think I’ve made my choice. GRYFFINDOR!”
Sirius didn’t see his cousin’s reactions from the Slytherin table. He was too busy delighting in the fact that he had actually done it. He had shown them all.
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Upon reaching the castle, Remus grew nervous. His parents had informed him of how you got sorted. His father had been in Ravenclaw and his mother in Hufflepuff. He didn’t know what house he would be in. He wasn’t sure if any of the houses would want him. He watched as many others were sorted, first the A’s and B’s, going through the E’s and F’s, and finally to the J’s and K’s. He was coming up. Sure enough, Professor McGonagall called his name. He went to the seat in the front of the room. The hat nearly fell over his eyes.
“Hmm….-you aren’t going to be easy, are you? You have a thirst for knowledge. There’s also a good deal of kindness and a willingness to work for the things you want. Certainly there is bravery, though there is also great discretion and insecurity. Do you have any ideas?”
I…I don’t know. My dad probably wants me to be a Ravenclaw.
“What do you want?”
Does that matter?
“More than anything else. However, I think I have it. You would fit well in several houses, but I think your best bet is GRYFFINDOR!”
Remus was shocked. He had never thought he would be a Gryffindor. It wasn’t until he sat down that he realized that was really what he had wanted all along.
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“Pettigrew, Peter.”
Peter shuffled over to the stool and placed the hat on his head, his hands shaking.
“Ah…another interesting mind. Not too much intellect, but a nature that yearns for adventure. You’ll want Gryffindor, I suppose?”
If it’s all right with you. I mean, if you think I’d be good enough.
“Being good enough has nothing to do with it. You have a desire to be brave, there’s no denying that. There’s a spark there, and it can easily grow, given the chance. But I wonder if you’re willing to give in to that chance.”
Oh, I am. Peter squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as if doing so would make the thought come through more clearly.
“Very well. If you truly want to be brave, then there’s really only one place for you, isn’t there? GRYFFINDOR!”
Peter’s heart swelled with pride as he made his way to the Gryffindor table.
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James had been sorted rather easily. The Sorting Hat had not said a word to him other than the loud “GRYFFINDOR!” that the whole school had heard. He had eaten with Sirius. They were getting along splendidly and James knew he had found a good friend in Sirius Black.
After the feast, James and the other newly initiated Gryffindors were led to their Common Room. As they settled into their dormitory, James looked around at the boys he would sharing a room with for the next seven years.
There was, of course, Sirius, who slept in the bed next to his. Next to him on the other side was a short, rather lumpy boy. On the other end was a pale, tired looking boy whose light brown hair fell into his eyes, almost as if to hide his face. Neither of them had identified themselves.
James watched as Sirius asked the small boy his name.
“Peter Pettigrew,” was the timid reply.
Having gotten the desired response, Sirius then turned to the other boy, who was writing on a piece of parchment. He didn’t notice Sirius sit on the edge of his bed and stare at him until Sirius gave a loud “Hey!” causing the sickly boy to jump.
“What’s your name?”
“Remus Lupin.” The boy’s voice shook slightly, though his face betrayed little emotion.
“What are you doing?” He ripped the piece of parchment out of Remus’ hands and began to read it.
“Dear Mother,
The train ride was fine. I got sorted into Gryffindor, which I didn’t expect. I hope Dad’s all right with that, I know he wanted me to be a Ravenclaw. The feast was delicious, but not as good as-”
He stopped and looked at Remus. “That’s all it says. Why do you need to write to your mum so bad?”
Remus stared at Sirius for a moment before answering. James didn’t know how Sirius could stand it. There was something in his eyes that was unnerving and intense, though his voice never changed its calm, steady tone. “Can I just have my letter back?”
Sirius handed the paper to him, grinning mischievously. “Fine, go on writing to your mum. I’m sure she’s worried about you. You’ve probably never been away from home before, have you? Always been close to your mummy and daddy, right?”
Remus glared at Sirius before returning to his letter. Sirius’s smiled faltered; he seemed upset at this lack of response. With a graceful turn of his head, he was staring back at the others.
“Well, I guess we should get some sleep. We’ll all sit together at breakfast tomorrow. Well, maybe Mummy’s Boy here won’t.”
Remus looked up. He didn’t say anything, but James watched him look down once more, his head dipping even closer to the parchment. His quill was shaking, and eventually he set it down, giving his head a small shake. He looked at the letter for a long while before picking his quill up again. This time, his hand was quite steady, though his other hand occasionally clenched and unclenched, almost convulsively. He didn’t look at anything beyond his parchment.
James felt something tighten in his stomach and chest. He didn’t know what exactly was making him feel so tense and worried, but he knew it had to do with Remus. While Sirius was engaged in a conversation with Peter, he walked over to the boy’s bed.
“Hey,” he said. “How’s your letter going?”
Remus didn’t look up. “Are you trying to be funny? Because you’re not.”
“No, I’m not. Actually, I’m supposed to be writing to my mum as well. I guess I probably should, she’ll worry if I don’t.”
Remus nodded. James didn’t know what to say; he still wasn’t looking up from his letter.
“You can sit with us tomorrow, if you want. Sirius is just kidding. It’s just that his mother isn’t very nice, I guess.”
Remus finally looked up. He stared at James for several seconds before responding. “Thanks, but you don't have to sit with me if you don't want to.”
“Trust me, if I didn’t like you, you’d know it. So, will you sit with us?”
Remus hesitated, looking at the others. “Yes. I’ll sit with you. Thanks for asking me.” And with that, he turned back to his parchment, leaving James somewhat bewildered. He wasn't sure when he had ever met such a strange boy before.
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James refrained from telling Sirius about inviting Remus to sit with them until they had gone to the Great Hall for breakfast, deciding to wait until they were seated.
“You know the boy in our dorm? Lupin? I asked him to sit with us.”
“What?” Sirius stopped in the middle of grabbing a piece of sausage. “What do you want with him? He’s obviously a loser.”
“Not anymore than that Pettigrew bloke.”
Sirius sighed. “Fine, be nice to him. I’m not talking to him, though, and you can’t make me.”
James grabbed his friend’s arm. “Sirius, would you please be nice to him? I think….I think something’s wrong with him. He looks so sick and sad. You don’t have to talk to him much, but would you please not make fun of him?”
Sirius didn’t respond. When Remus came down shortly after Peter, he hovered awkwardly over the table before James offered him a seat.
Sirius was horrified when he realized James had sat Remus down next to him. He turned and glared at him. James had been right; the boy was most certainly sad. He was biting his lip fiercely, almost drawing blood. His eyes were flickering nervously from person to person. Sirius didn’t know why he said what he did, but it came out regardless.
“I don’t know who you think you are, but I think I made it clear that I don’t like you. Are you so pathetic that you can’t find any friends to sit with?”
Remus stood up from the table, looking at the floor. He opened his mouth, but Sirius was quicker.
“Going to cry to Mummy? Some Gryffindor you turned out to be.”
Remus’s eyes widened. Sirius expected him to say something, but he didn’t. He only turned on his heel and walked out of the Great Hall. Though he didn’t run, there was an urgency to his step. Not once did he look back, and soon his slight figure had disappeared. In an instant, Sirius felt sickened by what he had said. James was shouting at him, but he couldn’t hear. He knew what he had said was wrong. It had been cruel. Worse, it had been something his cousin Bellatrix would say, something his mother would do. He didn’t want to be like them.
What if it was inevitable? What if, whatever house he was in, he turned out like them? It was, after all, in his blood.
“- asked you not to, and you did it anyways!” James voice was coming back into focus.
Sirius turned to look James. No. He wouldn’t let this happen. He had just found an amazing friend in James and he wasn’t going to lose him because of this. He wasn’t going to let his family be right.
He sprinted out of the Great Hall, ignoring James’s protests. He nearly got lost several times before finally reaching the common room, breathless and panting. Remus wasn’t there, but there was still the dormitory. Sirius clambered up the stairs, still out of breath. Sure enough, Remus was there, lying on his bed. His face was in his pillow and his shoulders were shaking. Sirius wondered if he would make it worse by announcing his presence; he knew personally that crying was not something a boy wanted to be caught doing.
He didn’t have to choose though; Remus looked up. He groaned when he saw who it was. Wiping his eyes, he turned away. Sirius went towards the bed, not sure exactly what he should say. He sat down on the bed and was about to say something when Remus’ head whipped around. His gaze was furious.
“What do you want? What could you possibly say that would make me feel worse? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Besides the obvious anger behind his words, there was a slight tremor, one that Sirius would have given anything not to hear. He had finally broken the boy, and he didn’t know if it was within his power to put him back together.
“I- listen- I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“No, really. See, it’s just that I- I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
Remus didn’t miss a beat. “Why not? They’re true. I don't belong in Gryffindor, and I don't know why the Sorting Hat put me here. I'm not brave at all.”
Sirius was taken aback. “No….no that’s not true. Even if it was, how would I know that? I don’t know anything about you. And it was horrible of me. I really am sorry.”
Remus sat up, unwilling to look Sirius in the eye, and Sirius felt a wave of sympathy for his classmate. If only he would say something, he thought. The silence became unbearable, and Sirius forced himself to speak.
“If you want, you can come back and sit with us. You didn’t eat anything yet.”
Remus looked up at him, hesitant. For the first time, Sirius saw fear in his eyes. He didn’t trust Sirius at all. Perhaps he never would. But Sirius knew he couldn’t just leave him there.
“Come on,” he said. “James will kill me if I don’t come back with you.”
Remus followed Sirius back to the Great Hall, hovering behind him like a lost dog. Sirius saw James staring with his mouth open at them. Ignoring him, Sirius sat down, motioning for Remus to do the same. The two were civil to each other, but nothing more. Sirius still wasn’t sure if he liked Remus or not. He didn’t seem to find anything he said funny, as James and Peter did. He didn’t talk much, either.
When Transfiguration started, their first class of the day, they were partnered up. Peter had asked to be with James. Sirius protested slightly, until James motioned to Remus, who was still standing behind them.
Sirius turned to Remus. “Do you want to be my partner?”
Remus looked about the room before answering. “Sure.”
At first, things weren’t going any better between them than before. Then Sirius made his matchstick, which they were supposed to be turning into needles, set on fire. It had been entirely on accident, but McGonagall had scolded him all the same. Remus had not laughed, or even smiled. He had only looked at Sirius.
“Good job,” he said dryly.
Without looking at his face, Sirius might have thought he was being genuine. While his mouth was set in a straight line, his eyes were sparkling. Sirius let out a laugh, and Remus smiled. It suited his face well. From that moment on, Sirius didn’t dare consider Remus dull. He had a wit about him that, while far less obvious than Sirius’s own, was entertaining. By the end of class, they were getting along well; by the end of the day, they were laughing together as though that morning had never happened.
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That night, Remus pulled out his book for some reading before bed. Sirius ripped the book out of his hands.
“So, are we friends, Lupin?”
Before Remus could answer, James spoke up. “I think we’re all friends now, aren’t we?”
Remus nodded. Though his demeanour was calm, inside he was delighted. He had finally gotten what he wanted. He had friends. He had started the day off hopeful, then miserable, and now he couldn’t be happier. He smiled and reached for his book, which Sirius handed back to him.
“Go on and read your book, Lupin. I know how important it is to you.”
By his smile, though, Remus knew he was kidding. They were indeed friends, though perhaps they were destined to clash more than any of the others. Such would be the nature of their friendship, but neither of them cared much. Certainly Remus didn’t. He had friends, and thus far, no enemies. He went to bed, eager for the new day. He had no way of knowing what was in store for him and his newly found friends.
Hearts of Red and Gold by moonyschick
Chapter Notes: Hope you enjoy! Thanks to my beta, Lydia, for helping me with my most important concerns, my silly little mistakes, and all sorts of things in between.