Saving Face

Saving Face

"What is that?" James demanded.

Remus lifted his chin determinedly. "I don't know what you mean?" he said.

"That," James levelled an accusing finger, "that thing on your face."

Remus raised a hand to his mouth, though he knew perfectly well what James meant. He had known that he would have a rough ride and had been ready for it but had hoped that, at least, the train would be under way before the other Marauders started the chaffing.

"Oh, this," he said but James was grinning and looking over his shoulder, having found someone with whom to share the joke.

"Hey, Peter," James called over the babble of the other students and the snort and hiss of the engine as it powered up. "Look what Remus has done to himself."

Peter clambered into the compartment and gave a chortle of pure delight. He didn't say anything but leaned back out through the door and beckoned frantically.

Oh, Merlin, here it comes! thought Remus as he spotted Sirius' dark head making for the door. While James and Peter were quite prepared to give him a hard time on their own, the Marauders generally liked to operate as a team even when attacking each other. Sirius was already grinning as he stepped up but made a big show of slamming to a halt and rocking back on his heels, hands raised in mock astonishment.

It was hardly fair - Sirius had started it, after all. Over the summer, while covering a Muggle Studies assignment, Sirius had developed a taste for Muggle entertainment - television in particular - and it had led him to make certain adjustments to his appearance. His return to school in September wearing a silk kaftan with a silver 'Hand of Fatima' displayed at his throat could, he claimed, be blamed on someone called 'Jason King'. As could the glossy and luxuriant black moustache that framed his mouth so emphatically. James took one look, heard the murmurs of the girls, and threw away his razor. Blond Peter had sighed, he knew there was no point, and Remus - Remus made his calculations carefully, experimented, measured growth and thickness and carefully cultivated his 'tache over the Christmas holiday. It was, he was prepared to admit, not as incredibly thick and bushy as James' nor as shapely and flattering as Sirius' but it was all his own work and he was attached to it.

"Remus," Sirius sighed, "you can't. No, honestly. This is a joke isn't it?"

Remus glared at him. "No, it's a moustache," Remus replied. "You have one. James - well, James looks as though he's eating a cat - and I don't see why I shouldn't have one too."

"But, Remus," Sirius said in his most reasonable tone of voice. "It's ginger!"

James and Peter collapsed whooping.

And that, of course, was the problem. Remus had been quite shocked when his beard began to grow in with a reddish tinge but had persevered anyway, hoping that it would darken as it grew. It wasn't that ginger...more auburn, except for a few hairs, just a few, in the middle.

"I don't care," he replied stubbornly. "Dad says it'll darken as I get older."

"How much older?" James demanded. "Because it looks as though you've had a nosebleed."

Sirius drew breath to add something but at that moment the whistle blew, the train moved off and Sirius spotted a couple of Slytherins horsing around in the corridor and drew them to Head Boy Potter's attention. Remus breathed a sigh of relief.

Possibly he relaxed a little too soon. James and Sirius had always been very active passengers, frequently leaving the compartment. James was patrolling the corridor as part of his duties as Head Boy but Sirius was, as ever, looking for fun. Remus was used to this and quite happy to doze, to read or to play chess with Peter. He barely even looked up when they returned to the compartment and began to fiddle around in Sirius' holdall. He was therefore taken completely by surprise when a wand was stuck in his face and James whooped Petrificus Totalis.

They didn't leave him petrified for long - just long enough to bind him hand and foot and arrange him on the floor.

"Sorry, Ree, but it's for your own good," James said. "We can't have you going round like that. We're seventh years - we're supposed to be setting an example!"

Remus thought that was a bit rich coming from someone who looked as though he had a scrubbing brush balanced on his top lip.

"It's not as though anyone's seen it," Peter pointed out. "so no one'll know and you won't lose face - unless Sirius' hand slips."

"It's a very nice moustache as moustaches go," Sirius said kindly, "but Remus - ginger! No!" And he produced a straight razor and Remus began to struggle.

The deed was soon done. Remus was nothing if not used to accepting his fate. With Peter sitting on his knees and James on his chest he had no choice but to relax unless he wanted to lose a piece of nose. Sirius didn't do a bad job, actually. He lathered him carefully and did all the fiddly bits far more effectively than Remus had ever done it himself. He even conjured up a hot towel and applied a splash of aftershave.

When they finally untied him, Remus smiled and thanked them and got up to resume his interrupted chess game. Peter made no attempt to join him. "Remus?" he said. "You - you aren't mad are you?"

"No, of course he isn't," James told him confidently then turned back to Remus. "I mean, you looked like you had marmalade on your top lip. Wait a bit and one day it'll all match up and you can try again."

"Yes, Ree," Sirius agreed rather absently - a rather attractive Ravenclaw girl had paused in the corridor and was making quite a show of not looking in the compartment. "It was ginger, Ree - like, no way, man."

Remus smiled again. "No, I'm not mad," he said mildly and he wasn't - really!

He left it a good two weeks. He could have done it sooner but it was more fun to wait. Peter and Sirius were both sound sleepers but James was very easy to disturb. Remus had to wait until 2 a.m. before James settled and he could mutter the Somnolens charm to keep them all unconscious. Then he got out his razor, shaving soap and a big bowl of warm water. He took a deep breath - he only hoped his hands didn't shake.

Next morning they all awoke as they usually did to the sound of the alarm bell. Remus kept his head down and his ears open.

James reacted first with a surprised grunt followed by silence and Peter next with a startled yelp. Remus grinned and opened one eye. Sirius, in his line of sight, stretched languidly and frowned. Remus saw his hand moving under the blankets then he lifted the edge of the bedding and peered under it with a puzzled smile. He didn't say a word but turned to Remus and gave him the respectful nod of one master barber to another. For Remus had been very careful - and very thorough - especially around the fiddly bits.

That was the joy of being a Marauder. They knew how to take a joke gracefully as well dish one out - and this way there was no loss of face. It would have been all too easy to have attacked James's or Sirius' own moustaches or to have removed an eyebrow from each sleeping boy but then everyone would have known that the solidarity of the seventh year Gryffindor boys had been shaken and they couldn't afford that after last years debacle. This was a private - an exceedingly private - revenge and he knew that the matter would never be referred to again. However, he grinned and closed his eyes again, he wondered if the other three would be quite as easygoing in a day or two when the stubble had come through enough to be really itchy.