A Nightmare to Remember

Chapter 3

Max smiled as he watched his son's dazed expression as they entered Diagon Alley. He had been to Diagon Alley several times before, but never with Remus. This was the boy's first visit to the magical street. Max always believed that a child's first glimpse of anything magical was a sight to behold, and he drank in every moment of it.

"Gringott's first," Max announced. He dragged Remus along, already looking forward to the day ahead of them. Remus barely had a chance to admire the magnificent white marble building before his father was impatiently pulling him inside. The building's exterior was quickly forgotten as Remus gazed in awe at the interior. Max walked over to one of the long counters and spoke to a goblin while Remus stared at the gleaming chandeliers high above their heads.

"Come along, Rem," Max said, and Remus stared curiously at the goblin that led them through a great bronze door, and down a flight of steps. Remus and Max settled themselves in a cart, and without warning, the cart took off. Remus' eyes sparkled in excitement, enjoying the thrill of the ride. Max shut his eyes to keep himself from being sick.

Remus stared in shock as the goblin opened the vault. There were piles of gold in here. Where did it all come from? Remus had been under the impression that they were barely scraping by.

"This is your trust fund," Max explained. "Your mother and I opened it the moment we found out we were expecting a baby, and we have been adding to it ever since. Well, I've been adding to it, at least. I don't know if she's made any recent contributions. Anyway, it's been gathering interest for the past eleven years in preparation for your enrollment at Hogwarts."

Remus was silent while they walked to the bookstore. The shop owner stared at them in confusion. "Term started almost a week ago," he stated.

"There was a slight mix-up about the Hogwarts letter," Max said pleasantly. With a shrug, the other man piled the books required for the first-year curriculum into a cart. And that was the excuse they used the entire day. They were pleasantly surprised to learn that there were after-school discounts available all over Diagon Alley. Max's opinion was that shop-owners were trying to draw in more customers now the rush of school shopping was over until next summer. Whatever the reason, it worked out to their advantage, and what sane person complained about low prices?

Max had to drag Remus from the Apothecary before the shop-keeper could convince the boy to invest in some suspicious-looking potions ingredients. Remus thought they might be useful, and it took Max a good ten minutes to convince him to settle for the standard ingredients needed for his Potions classes. It took twice as long to convince Remus that he really needed the cauldron described in his Hogwarts letter and not one of the others that had caught his eye. Overall, the only real trouble Max had was reminding Remus that there was a reason certain things were listed on his school list. Max almost relented and allowed Remus to get a beautiful crystal globe that was a perfect replication of the night sky, and it also showed the current phase of the moon.

When they entered Madame Malkin's Robe Shop, Remus was barely able to keep still while he was being measured for his new school robes.

"Remus, stand still!" Max hissed for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"I don't like needles!" Remus complained.

"They aren't needles, they're pins," Max replied.

"It's the same thing!" Remus retorted. "Ow!"

"It would be less painful if you would just stand still," Max said, his patience thinning.

"Why can't I have a standard Gryffindor uniform?" Remus complained, gazing at a robe on a rack that had a scarlet and gold lion emblazoned on the chest.

"Because you have yet to be Sorted," Max growled. "You don't know what House you'll be Sorted into."

Remus bristled in anger. "I'll be in Gryffindor!" he said loudly.

"No, you want to be in Gryffindor," Max corrected. "There is a difference."

"I will be in Gryffindor," Remus glowered, "or else."

Merlin help the Sorting Hat should it be foolish enough to put him anywhere else, Max thought. He enjoyed telling people that Remus could be described as a perfectly calm and agreeable child with a volatile temper. His temper flared easily at St. Mungo's in both his usual form, and also when he was posing as Romulus. He was the Healers' worst nightmare at St. Mungo's. The Healers tried their best to make sure nothing dangerous was around when Remus was there, and if they failed, they tried to stay well out of throwing range. Max could have told the Healers that it could be avoided if they would refrain from insulting werewolves in front of the boy, but the chaos was the only source of entertainment in the Werewolf Ward. Max was looking forward to seeing the looks on the Healers' faces when they learned that they now had a hot-tempered wand-wielding Remus to deal with once a month.

When werewolves weren't being downgraded, Remus was very mild-mannered, and the Healers would never have believed it was the same boy if they were to witness him outside St. Mungo's. Likewise, anyone who really knew Remus would never believe the Healers' descriptions of him. Max truly hoped no one at Hogwarts would find out what kind of creature Remus' father was. The pureblood elitist Slytherins would never leave him alone, and the other children simply wouldn't understand. Remus would calmly take any direct insults thrown in his direction without a care in the world, but say anything to slander his father or werewolves in general and the boy would not rest until the offender had been "taken care of."

"Can we go now?" Remus asked impatiently. "I still have to get my wand."

"Well, I can't send you off to school without a wand, now can I?" Max said teasingly.

"Dad!" Remus said in a half-strangled tone.

Max led Remus to Ollivanders'. The man inside was scolding a boy who appeared to be fresh out of Hogwarts.

"How many times must I tell you not to experiment with things you do not understand?"

"But Uncle, hybrids will make better matches!" the boy protested.

"Wand making is not a joking matter!" the older man snapped. "Put in in the corner. We'll deal with it later."

Ollivander turned around and regarded his new customer solemnly. "Shouldn't you already be at school?" he asked.

"There was a slight misunderstanding the acceptance letter," said Max.

"Maximus Lupin," Mr. Ollivander said with an eerie smile. "Cedar and phoenix feather, quite snappy, was it not?"

"Still is," Max shrugged.

"And its performance has not changed, despite your-"

"It's called Lycanthropy," Remus said clearly and belligerently. He glared at the silver-eyed man, as if daring him to contradict him.

"I meant no offense," Ollivander said quickly. "Not at all. It is merely that the werewolves I have met complained about their wands losing their effectiveness after the bite."

"I am still happy with mine," Max smiled, pulling out the object in question. "Remus has actually told me it takes on a silvery glow during the full moon. I wouldn't know, as I am never sane during that time."

"May I?" asked Ollivander.

Max allowed him to take the wand for a closer examination. Ollivander held the wand up to the light and gave it a cursory examination. "Peculiar," he murmured. "Cedar wands don't normally behave this way."

"What way?" asked Max with a slight frown.

"It appears your wand has formed a deep bond with you. It has even adapted to deal with the slight change in your personality. You have transformed with it?"

Max shook his head. "That's as good a way as any to lose it," he said.

"Do not be so sure of that," Ollivander replied, surrendering the wand to its rightful owner. He turned to Remus. "You need a wand do you not?"

Remus stared at him, a little unnerved at those eyes.

Ollivander turned to his nephew. "Start bringing some boxes in for trial," he said.

The older boy disappeared in the back of the shop and returned with an armful of boxes. Ollivander open the one at the top. "Cherry and unicorn hair, give it a wave."

Remus did so and jumped as the light blinked out. "Not the one," Ollivander muttered, lighting the lamps with a flick of his own wand. "How about this one? Dogwood and phoenix feather, nice and bendy."

This one set the desk on fire and Ollivander shook his head. "Olive and phoenix feather, slightly swishy. No? Beech and dragon heartstring, rather stiff."

It didn't work. As they progressed, Remus was starting to get a panicky feeling. What if he never found the right wand? Ollivander's nephew brought piles and piles of boxes, until finally they had exhausted all of their options.

Instead of being upset, Ollivander smiled. "There is only one thing left to do," he said. "Your wand will have to be custom-made."

"I didn't know you custom- made wands," Max said slowly.

"I do, but it's not a fact I like to advertise," said Ollivander. "Otherwise, every witch or wizard who walks in this shop will demand a custom-made wand when there is almost always a wand available that is a suitable match. Only when there is no match to be found will I sell a custom-made wand. Come with me."

Max and Remus followed him to a room at the back of the shop. There were many shelves filled with pieces of wood and jars of unknown substances. Ollivander guided Remus to the shelves with jars. "Let your hand hover over each jar in turn until we find a match," he said.

Remus doubtfully did as he was told, noticing the labels on each jar. Some were labeled "Unicorn," or "Phoenix" but others had things like "Welsh Green" and "Chinese fireball." Remus froze as one of the jars started to shake. Ollivander snatched it up and stared at its contents.

"Ah, the heartstring of a Hungarian Horntail," Ollivander whispered. "I didn't want to use this. It would make a very temperamental wand no matter what wood it was matched up with. But each to his own, nothing wrong with that!" He then guided Remus to the shelf covered with pieces of wood.

Remus repeated the process until a green vine began to vibrate.

"Interesting combination," Ollivander said softly. "When is he supposed to arrive at Hogwarts?"

"We were hoping to get him there by dinnertime, at least," said Max.

Ollivander nodded. "Come back in an hour," he said. "Your wand should be ready by then."

"Why don't we go for some ice cream?" Max suggested. "Fortescue has the best!"

Remus' eyes lit up at the thought of sweets. Ice cream sounded very good. Especially ice cream drenched in chocolate and caramel sauce!

"You will try to behave yourself?" Max beseeched.

"Mm-hm," said Remus as he licked up a trail of caramel syrup before it could drip down the front of him.

"I don't want to receive any owls from your teachers," Max warned.

"I said I'd try!" Remus protested. "I can't promise anything."

Max decided that was good enough. "And don't tell anyone that your father is-erm- a werewolf," Max said in a low voice.

Remus frowned. "Why not?" he asked. "It's not like I'm ashamed of you or anything."

Max smiled in pride but shook his head. "It's not wise," he said. "The other kids will give you a hard time, especially when they find out you prefer your werewolf dad over your human mum."

"She's not my mum," Remus said stubbornly. "And I don't care what the other kids think."

"Those kids will write to their parents," Max said. "Those parents will write to the Ministry. They'll claim it's for your own protection, but you and I know better. Then we'll be receiving visits from the Magical Child Protection Services. Then your mother will be pulled into this, and you know how thrilled she'll be."

A distant look had come into Remus' blue eyes, and Max bit his lip. He had always tried to avoid the subject of his ex-wife in front of Remus. Max had been fighting for full custody of Remus for the past three years. He only barely managed to get the court to deny Lisette visitation rights because Healers believed the child needed stability and also because of Remus' reactions every time he came home from such visits. Remus would flinch at the slightest touch, and he would never talk about these visits, so no one could ever actually prove that anything bad was happening during these visits. Max had only recently gotten his son to stop recoiling at the simplest of touches, but he would still grow silent at the mention of his mother. At times like these, it was best to just change the subject.

"Remus," Max said softly. "You do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

Remus suddenly shook his head as if to clear it of unpleasant thoughts. "Of course I do," he said with a smile. "But what will we do if they find out?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Max said quietly.

Remus stared dismally at the boat. "Must I get in there?" he asked his father.

Max glanced questioningly at the giant of a man waiting in the boat. "Hagrid?" he asked.

"Dumbledore insisted," Hagrid explained. "Said he didn' want Remus ter miss out on any o' the experiences the other firs' years went through."

Max nudged Remus forward. "Go on," he said gently. "Hagrid won't let you drown."

"Are you l-leaving now?" asked Remus tentatively.

Max nodded sadly. "Write to me as often as you like," he said. "I don't care if you want to send me a dozen owls a day, as long as you at least write."

Remus wrapped his arms around his father's waist in a tight hug. "I'll miss you," he whispered.

"And I'll miss you," Max murmured, ruffling his hair fondly. "But you'll be having lots of fun before you know it. It won't be long before you forget your old Dad."

"Never!" Remus gasped in shock. "I'll see you next month."

"Off with you, then," Max said, his throat tight. His little boy wasn't so little anymore!

Remus stepped tentatively into the boat. As he sat down, a cold fear settled into his chest as he realized this was for real. He and his father were really going to be separated, albeit for only a month. He had never been away from his father for that long. Hagrid commanded the boat to go forward and Remus watched the dark figure of his father illuminated by the moon. The figure grew smaller and smaller until it became an imaginary speck in Remus' mind.

This was it. He was gone. Remus' shoulders slumped. This would be a long month. Hagrid clapped a large reassuring hand on his shoulder, and only Remus' quick reflexes kept him from tumbling into the lake.

"But why?"

"Because you need to be Sorted, Mr. Lupin."

"But why can't I be Sorted somewhere quiet?"

"Because Professor Dumbledore insists that you are to be treated like any newly arrived first year."

"I have to be Sorted in front of the whole school?"

"Yes, Mr. Lupin."

"Is Dumbledore a sadist?"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Is Professor Dumbledore a sadist?"

Minerva McGonagall sighed. Max Lupin had assured her Remus was well behaved most of the time. She was now beginning to wonder what Max considered to be "most of the time." While she waited for Dumbledore to explain to the rest of the school why their dinner was being delayed, Minerva found herself wondering what house the boy would be Sorted into. The boy seemed fiercely loyal to his father, so that made him a good candidate for Hufflepuff. Even as she thought it, she quickly dispelled that thought. The boy had admitted to studying the entire first-year curriculum out of his father's old books. The books may have been slightly outdated, but not by much. He would have no trouble catching up to his peers, homework-wise. He was definitely Ravenclaw material.

"Why do I have to be Sorted? I know I'll be in Gryffindor!"

"No one knows what House they'll go to," Minerva said stiffly.

Remus scowled. No matter how many times he was told that, he knew different. He was going to be in Gryffindor. He couldn't see himself in any other House. And it would make his father proud. Suddenly the double doors opened of their own accord.

"Must it be so conspicuous?" he grumbled.

"It will be conspicuous no matter how we handle this," Professor McGonagall replied. "Come with me."

Remus stepped into the Great Hall, his eyes immediately finding the bright colors of Gryffindor Table. His gaze was drawn to the ceiling, where the stars winked merrily and the moon shone brightly, mockingly, reminding Remus of the reason he was here so late. He couldn't helped being impressed. He had read his father's book about Hogwarts and the enchanted ceiling, but nothing even came close to seeing it in real life.

Remus tore his eyes from the ceiling to find that all eyes were on him. He felt his cheeks burning in embarrassment. Professor McGonagall directed him to sit on a stool at the front. Remus did so, feeling as if he was on display. Professor McGonagall then approached him, carrying a very battered hat.

"This is the Sorting Hat," she announced. "When you try it on, it will tell us which House you belong in."

Before Remus could protest, she dropped the hat over his head. Everything went dark and Remus sat in shock, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do.

"You don't have to do anything," said a small voice. "Just let me do all the work."

With a startled yelp, Remus tugged the hat off his head. "This thing is evil!" he exclaimed. "It was reading my mind!"

Several students throughout the Hall erupted into giggles, and Minerva tried to hold back a smile. "That is how it Sorts you," she explained. "That does not make it evil. Put the Hat back on until it Sorts you."

With a look of trepidation, Remus placed the hat back over his head and braced himself. "There is no need to make a fuss," said the Hat once Remus had calmed down. "Now, where shall I put you?"

Gryffindor, he thought. Has to be Gryffindor.

"Gryffindor, is it? But I have to make sure it's the right house for you."

It is the right house for me.

"Not necessarily. Let's look at all our options before we make a decision, shall we?"

There is no need-

"Excuse me, I believe I am the one doing the Sorting here."

Then Sort me already, people are getting impatient.

"You mean you're getting impatient."

It's the same thing. If I'm getting impatient, then no doubt someone else is getting impatient as well.

"Well, one thing is for certain. You have the loyalty for Hufflepuff, but you do not have the patience for it."

How perceptive of you. Put me in Gryffindor.

"I haven't yet eliminated our other options-"

With a growl of frustration, Remus pulled the Hat off his head again and glared at Professor McGonagall. "It is evil," he insisted. "Must I listen to its tortuous voice all night?"

"You'll be Sorted much quicker if you would keep it on," Professor McGonagall said impatiently.

Grumbling under his breath, Remus placed the hat on his head and waited...and waited ...and waited.

Are you awake?

"I was hoping you'd learned some patience. I am afraid you are a hopeless case. Hufflepuff would teach you that much-needed patience, and you would be a credit to Hufflepuff House-"

"That's it! I'm not listening to this anymore!" Remus angrily pulled the Hat off his head. Before Minerva could reprimand him again, the Hat spoke aloud.

"But you are right," it said, continuing their previous conversation, "That is not the right House for you. If you would kindly place me back on your head, we only have two more Houses to eliminate before I can Sort you."

The students groaned as he put the Hat on yet again. If it had taken ten minutes for the Hat to eliminate one House, how long would it take to eliminate the other two? Especially since Remus couldn't seem to keep it on long enough to be Sorted?

"So, Ravenclaw might be a good choice."

"NO!" Remus said both out loud and in his mind.

"No? You have the brains for it. In fact, I am quite sure you can pass the end-of-year tests if you were to take them tomorrow. Ravenclaw is the perfect House for you!"

No. That's the House she was in.

"She? As in your mother? There is nothing wrong with being in the same House your mother was in. You are a bit like her."

Say that again and I'll incinerate you!

"Violent, aren't we? But I suppose we can eliminate Ravenclaw. Against my better judgment, I might add. Which leaves Slytherin and Gryffindor."

Then just put me in Gryffindor. I can't see myself in Slytherin.

"Not so fast. Your volatile temper is a trait found in both Houses. Let's look a little deeper so we can eliminate one of them."

This is ridiculous. Whose idea was it to leave the Sorting to a hat?

"Godric Gryffindor's, as a matter of fact. The wizard whose House you wish to join."

There was silence between the boy and the Hat for a full minute. Remus was trying to think of a good comeback, and the Hat was taking the opportunity to scan the boy's mind for any traits that would distinguish him as either a Gryffindor or a Slytherin.

He must have been desperate!

"Much as I enjoy conversing with you, I still have to Sort you. You are ambitious, very ambitious, and cunning enough for Slytherin. And you know exactly what to do in order to make things go your way. However, I cannot deny that there is an astounding amount of courage in you. There aren't a lot of children who would want to live with a werewolf."

Remus bristled in rage. That filthy, prejudiced, excuse for a ripped-up piece of cloth! He racked his mind, trying to remember the spell that summoned fire.

"None of that now," the Hat chided. "There are only two places you can go. Either one will work, but I will give you the choice. Slytherin or Gryffindor?"

"Gryffindor!" Remus said loudly.

"That's my line, I believe," the Hat said sullenly, causing relieved laughter throughout the Great Hall. "But you are right. It is indeed GRYFFINDOR!" Remus stood up and pulled the Hat off for the last time, but it had one last thing to say. "The incantation you are looking for is Incendio, I believe."

Remus gave the teachers' table a little salute and dropped himself down at a seat that a dark-haired boy indicated for him. Arguing with a hat was exhausting. But he was in Gryffindor! That thought perked him up, or maybe it was the food that had suddenly appeared.

"Hullo!" said a bright voice next to him. "I'm James Potter. We'll be sharing a dorm!"

Remus' eyes widened. How was he supposed to respond to that? He had never met anyone near his age before!

"And I'm Sirius," said the boy sitting on the other side of James.

"Serious?" Remus repeated. "About what?"

The two boys burst into loud laughter, and a plump blonde boy down the table laughed appreciatively. Remus flushed, wondering what the joke was.

"Sorry," the boy chuckled, "but that's my name. Sirius. As in the Dog Star, Sirius. Sirius Black."

"Black?" Remus had heard of the Blacks.

"My family's reputation precedes me," Sirius said darkly. "But I assure you, I am not anything like them, or you would see me in Slytherin."

Remus shuddered at the thought. "That twitchy little squeaker down there is Peter, by the way," James added. "Why exactly did you want to know the incantation for the Fire Summoning Spell?"

Remus scowled. "That warped piece of cloth was seriously considering putting me in Slytherin," he grumbled. "I told it from the moment I sat down where I was going to be placed."

"Oh? And where is that?" James asked curiously.

"Must you ask?" Remus sighed, piling potatoes on his plate. "My dad was in Gryffindor, so naturally it was the only House for me."

"Was your mum a Gryffindor too?" Peter asked curiously.

Remus narrowed his eyes. Rather than go into that delicate subject, he merely said, "I'm a half-blood."

"Ahem!" Remus glanced to the other side of him, where a cute red-headed girl was smiling at him. "I'm Lily Evans," she introduced herself. "If you need help catching up, I'm the one to come to, since your dorm-mates are completely clueless."

"Hey! We are not clueless!" James protested. "Just you wait, Lupin. You'll find out how brilliant we are. Someday you will wonder how you would have survived without having such geniuses for friends!"

"We are pranksters extraordinaire!" Sirius exclaimed. "Therefore, we have to be brilliant and talented."

"Pranksters extraordinaire?" Remus smirked. "Isn't it a bit early to have a title attached to you?"

"James!" Sirius gasped. "He doubts our abilities! We must show him how deeply mistaken he is!"

"Now you've done it," Lily muttered.