An Age

    I remember somebody telling me one day, “Friends are forever,” or something to that effect. I think I must have thought it to be cute, or at least true, at the time. But now its been 16 years and I think it’s a load of rubbish. I don’t really remember who said it to me, because I’ve spent the past 16 years trying to forget about everything. But I do remember that it was at Lily’s and James’s funeral. I suppose it was meant to be consoling. And it was. For 15 years. But now I’m starting to see that friends aren’t really forever. Not unless you get to be the first to die out of all of them. And for that I envy James. I know that it’s a truly horrible thing to say, but I would have rather died years ago and never seen all of this happen than be living it all now.

    I’m standing on the beach; right on the line where the water stops and the land begins. And memories wash over me like waves…

~

    “Are you a werewolf?” says James. I’m in shock - no one was supposed to know and now they do and I’m never going to have friends again.

    I think my mouth has been glued shut. But perhaps that’s just me getting my hopes up.

    “Well?”

    “Er - er -” I know I’m going to have to tell them. “I - I am. But-”

    Sirius interrupts me. “Why didn’t you tell us?” he demands.

    “Well… I mean, look, I’ve never had friends before because of it.”

    “Well you do now.” I can’t read either of their expressions. Peter is curled up at the foot of his own bed, looking frightened and whimpering.

    “Yeah, but not for long. No one wants to be friends with a werewolf.”

    “We do.” says James. Sirius nods, but Peter’s still afraid.

    James rounds on Peter. “Don’t we, Peter?”

    Peter moves his head about a centimeter up and then down, still trembling.

    Sirius is beginning to look angry. “Its three weeks till full moon, Peter, so bite it.”

    “Look, this is all very nice of you, but I don’t think you understand. I’m a werewolf.”

    “We know.” say James and Sirius in unison.

    “Yes, but… don’t you hate me now, or think I’m some sort of monster?”

    “Not really.”

    I can’t believe how well they’re taking it.

    “What’s it like to transform?” says Sirius. James nudges him hard in the ribs.

    I laugh; I don’t think its rude. “It sucks. It really does. But you learn to deal.” I smile to show that I don’t want them to make a big deal.

    Peter makes a funny strangled noise, but all three of them grin. Peter’s is more of a grimace from where James just kicked him to stop his whimpering.

~

    “Remus, Remus!” Sirius is running towards me, accompanied by James.

    “We did it! We’re done! Its been four years but we’re done!”

    “Done with what?” I ask, in a artificially innocent voice. I already know the answer.

    “Watch!” says Sirius, checking to make sure no one is in this corridor. He takes a deep breath and a few moments later, I’m looking down at a shaggy black dog. The dog puts his front paws on my shoulders and nearly bowls me over.    

    He transforms back. “Watch me, too!” says James, ever the competitor, who transforms into a large deer. His transformation is faster than Sirius‘s. The stag butts me playfully.

    “Hey, hey, enough!” I laugh.

    James resumes his normal form.

    “What about Peter?” I ask.

    “Here… I… Am…” he pants, skidding to a halt by me.

    “Let me see you transform, Peter.”

    He’s wearing a funny look on his face and mumbles, “What if I get caught?”

    Sirius rolls his eyes. “Come on, Peter, James just transformed into a huge stag in the middle of the school and nobody noticed.”

    “Yeah, so they really won’t notice a rat,” adds James scathingly.

    He still looks scared or something. I simply cannot understand how he ended up in Gryffindor. But then he mutters, “All right,”

    His transformation is the slowest of all. It’s a wonder no one did notice him, with all the time it took. But finally there’s a large grey rat sitting on the floor in front of us.

    I can’t help but think that a rat is a rather dull animal to change into. But we needed a little animal to get to the knot at the base of the tree.

    “Has anyone seen my rat?” We turn around; there’s a small first year girl from Ravenclaw walking up our corridor. “Has anyone seen Missy?”

    Sirius and James’s faces break into evil grins, and I have a very shrewd idea what they’re thinking.

    “Is this your rat, Diana?” says James, picking Peter up off the floor and holding him up.

    Her face brightens and she grabs Peter out of James’s hands and says, “Oh, you found Missy! Thank you so much!” She hugs James and walks off.

    Now we’re all practically screaming with mirthless laughter.

~

    I’ve just received my Hogwarts letter. I’m at James’s house with Sirius, and can’t help but be glad that Peter isn’t here. As James puts it, he “forgot” to send an owl to Peter inviting him to stay. This is a bit difficult to believe but I play along.

    Sirius walks into the room, clutching his letter. “Did you make it?”

    “Make what?”

    James comes in now. “Oh, don’t be ignorant, Remus. Gryffindor prefect.”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Well, open the thing!”

    I pull the seal off the envelope and look inside. Yes, the badge is there, but I can’t help wishing I hadn’t gotten it. This is going to be odd, with the four of us running around but me not telling. Of course I won’t tell, but still…

    “Yeah… here it is.”

    “You sound so thrilled.”

    I frown. “Oh, I am. I just don’t want to seem over buoyant around you two lowly non-prefects,” I say jokingly.

    Sirius puts a hand up to his eyes and loud fake sniveling noises start emanating from him. “You - don’t - have - to rub it - in…” he fake-whimpers.

    “Oh I think I do,” I say, punching him playfully in the arm.

    Sirius gives a gigantic pretend sniff and says, “You’re… hurting my feelings!”

    He buries his head in James’s shoulder. A moment later he really does seem to be crying; but then he looks up and the tears are really from laughing. James collapses onto the floor into silent giggles; Sirius topples over him.

    “Now, really. I think I am going to have to take 10 points from Gryffindor for this insanely childish behavior-” I say in a mock-stern voice. I can’t finish the rest of the sentence because James seizes me by the ankle and pulls me into the hysterical wrestling match-slash-giggling fit.

~

    Sirius passes me a note over his shoulder. It says, “Do you have the sketches?”

    I tap it and the words, “Yes, do you and James have yours?” appear and I pass the note back to him. There’s no point in asking if Peter has any; his so called “Drawings” are more like jumbled lines, but we’ve agreed to put his name on it too if he looks the magic up in the library.

    A hand appears in front of me holding the note again. This time it reads, “Did you do the dungeons?”

    I write another “Yes,” and hand it back.

    After class, we skip dinner and sneak up to the dormitories unnoticed. Peter isn’t there; he’s already left for the library.

    “Okay,” say James, pulling out a handful of sketches. “I did the first floor, the seventh floor, and the fourth floor,” he adds, spreading at least three copies of each out on his bed.

    “And I did the fifth floor, sixth floor, and the grounds,” says Sirius, pulling more sketches out of his bag as well.

    “I did the dungeons, second floor, and third,” I say.

    “Right, so now we have to pick the best copy of each…” says James, shuffling through his.

    Finally, after about an hour or so, we’ve decided on nine drawings, one of each of the floors, the dungeons, and the grounds.

    “Now what?”

    “We have to do the title…” mutters James, digging around in his bag for a piece of parchment.

    “Whose going to write it?”

    “I will, unless one of you wants to,” says Sirius.

    James hands him the parchment. “Fire away.”

    Sirius pulls out a quill and inscribes “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present The Marauder’s Map” onto the top of the parchment.

    “What now?”

    “We wait for Peter…”

    “Ooh, fun… like he’s going to be back anytime soon…” I mutter, leaning my head onto the pillow.

    About half an hour later Peter shows up clutching a thick leather book entitled, “Magical Map-Making” and hands it to James, who flicks through it to the right page and begins to read.

    “…to make a map with… labeled people, including Animagi, and labeled incantations for certain points…”

    He looks up. “Okay, first, we…” he runs his finger down the page. “…say, “replicatus” and trace all the lines from the dungeon sketch.”

    “Alright,” says Sirius, pulling his wand out and starting to trace.

    “Then we tap the title page and he dungeon sketch should appear there.”

    “Right.” He taps the parchment and the sketch appears. “Cool…”

    “And now you do that to all the drawings in the right order…”

    After he’s done with it all, James looks back at the book and says, “Now tap it twice times and say “facetis”…”

    “I’ll do it,” I say, picking my wand up from the bed.

    “And then we can decide what you say to make it appear and to wipe it.”    

    “Ooh, ooh, I know!” say Peter. I doubt that it’ll be a very good idea. “We can say, “Show me,” and “Wipe me!”

    Sirius rolls his eyes. “It should be something no one else’ll guess…”

    “Maybe… ‘I swear I am up to mischief’ and ‘mischief managed’,” says James.

    “That’s cool… but maybe, ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good’ and then your ‘mischief managed’” I say.

    “Yeah!” laughs Sirius, adding the charm.

    “And we can’t tell anyone about it,” says James.

    “To the Marauders!” says Sirius, thrusting his wand in the air like a sword.

    “To the Marauders!” echo James, Peter, and I, holding our wands up so that the tips touch.

~

    “James. James,” I say.

    He doesn’t answer; he’s staring out the window of Gryffindor tower.

    “James!” Sirius practically yells in his ear, shaking him by he shoulders.

    “What?” he asks irritably.

    “What are you doing?”

    “I’m watching…” he sighs. “Lily.”

    Sirius rolls his eyes. “I mean really, James, come off it. You heard her today, she said she’d rather date the giant squid than you.”

    “I know…”

    “And that’s why you need to move on.”

    “No… Really…. I’ll stop hexing Snivelly if I have to…”

    “Erm… James?” I say. “You already tried that… she didn’t do in for that deal…”

    “So?”

    “So I doubt she’ll be any different tomorrow, mate. Why not go out with someone else?”

    He snorts. “Yeah right.”

    “Why not?”

    James shakes his head. “You just don’t get it. There’s something about her…”

    “Yeah well…the only thing about her is that she really seems to loathe you.” says Sirius.

    “I don’t care.”

    “Um, I think you’re going to care when she starts going out with someone else…”

    “Like who?”

    “Like… me, mate,” laughs Sirius.

    Now James laughs. “Oh come on. She hates you too.”

    “Ah… I hadn’t thought of it like that…”

    “She doesn’t hate me,” I say thoughtfully. “And think how cute it’d be… the two Gryffindor prefects together.”

    “If you ever come within a foot of her I shall curse you into insanity.”

    “I’m just so very frightened now,” I say sarcastically.

    “I will. No joke.” he says, whipping out his wand and wearing a rather violent expression on his face.

    “Okay, okay, I believe you!” I say, backing up. James is top in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I strongly believe that he would not hesitate to land me a bed in St. Mungo’s.

~

    I still can’t believe it. I mean, three years ago, if someone had said to me, “Remus, James and Lily will get married.” I would have laughed my head off. But it’s true… at least, I think it is. I’ve pinched myself at least thirteen times and I haven’t woken up yet…

    “Can you believe it?” I mutter to Sirius, who was best man.

    “Definitely not…”

    “Its odd… you know? I always thought she hated him…”

    “Me too…”

    Peter comes up, elbowing people out of the way and looking wobbly. “Hey, wassgoinoneverbody?” he says loudly. I can tell he’s been experimenting at the “Mixed Drink Counter”.

    People within a five foot radius look around at us, and I can feel my face getting red.

    I lean over to Sirius. “Do you suppose, that if we just kind of… walked away… he’d leave us alone?”

    “I dunno… its worth a try…” he says, and we get up and walk over to where Lily and James are surrounded by a small crowd of people. I edge closer to James, but Sirius is already elbowing his way through the people.

    “Come on, come on. Best friend of groom coming through.”

    James and Lily look over. Lily looks a bit perturbed to see Sirius pushing his way over, but James grins.

    “So, Prongs, what’s it like being married?”

    He laughs. “Pretty good-” Lily nudges him in the ribs. “okay, really good. I suspect tonight’ll be pretty nice too…” he winks at me and Sirius.    

    Lily gives him a playful slap. “You’d better be good if you want to find out,” she says.

    I laugh. “Watch yourself, Prongs.”

    He snickers, “Oh, I will!”, then lowers his voice. “So, have you seen Peter?”

    “You mean the embarrassing drunk?”

    He laughs again. “I take it he came over to see you guys too?”

    “Yep. Wobbling and everything. How long was he at the drink counter?”

    “Since the beginning of the reception.”

    “Good lord… and the way people were looking at us…”

    “Yes, well, its not like it’s the end of the world…” said Lily.    

    “No. But still embarrassing,” says Sirius.

~

    “Awww… he’s so little!” I say.

    “Absolutely adorable-” Sirius says, as the baby wraps his hand around his finger.

    “He’s very cute… He looks just like you, James. Apart from the eyes, of course.”

    “Are you saying that you find me cute, Moony?” says James teasingly.

    “Oh, yes. Positively delectable.” I say sardonically.

    “Hey, hey, hey. Hands off the man,” says Lily, pulling James closer to her.

    We all laugh. Sirius pulls a tiny blue baby blanket from his robes.

    “Look what me and Remus got him…” he says, holding it out. It has the words, “Harry James Potter… Marauder #5” stitched into it.

    James lets out a snort of laughter.

    “I can’t believe you two put that on there!” says Lily.

    “But isn’t it cute?” I ask.

~

    I lean over a heavy book of potions, adding ingredients to my Wolfsbane potion and muttering as I do.

    “Powdered mandrake root… one ounce….” I toss the powder into the cauldron.

    “A bezoar…”

    “Remus!” says a voice from somewhere. I give a little jump and turn around, to see Peter’s head poking out of the flames.

    “What’s going on, Peter? What’s wrong?”

    “You don’t know?”

    “Know what?” I ask, kneeling in front of the fire. On closer inspection he looks extremely tired and his cheeks are wet with sweat.

    “Dumbledore was right.”

    I’m puzzled. “What about?”

    “About Sirius.”

    Comprehension cascades over me as I try not to think about what that means. “They’re… gone?”

    He nods. “But… that’s the funny thing… Harry lived.” his voice is remarkably steady.

    “What?” I can feel my cheeks getting damp.

    “He killed Lily and James… But not Harry…”

    “What happened to Voldemort?”

    He flinches. “The curse rebounded… He’s gone.”

    “Gone?”

    “Gone.”

    “What about Harry?”

    “Dumbledore sent him to Lily’s sister.”

    “Why didn’t Sirius get Harry?” But I already know the answer.

    “Dumbledore’s orders,” Peter says. “He won’t believe that Sirius didn’t betray James and Lily.”

    “Well… he did.”

    “I know.”

    We both stay silent for a moment. I can’t believe this is happening. My friend… James’s best friend… Sirius… Then I break the silence.

    “What are you going to do now?”

    “Find Sirius. Kill him.” His face is emotionless and his voice is calm.

    “Peter, don’t.” I’m aware that I sound like my mother but I don’t care. I’m half-blinded by tears and when I look back at the fire he’s gone.

~

    I unroll today’s copy of the Daily Prophet. The first thing I see is a huge photo of Sirius at Lily and James‘s wedding, with the words, “Best Friend - or Best Death Eater?” super-imposed over it. I read the first few lines and have to stop. It appears that Peter really did track Sirius down. But Sirius killed him… I wonder if he’s after me now…

    I look back at the article and have to read more. They’ve had Sirius hauled off to Azkaban, and it kills me to think that he deserves it.

~

    Albus Dumbledore’s head appears in my living room fire. He’s been showing up in the flames all summer since Sirius’s escape.

    “Hello, Albus.” I say, squatting down by the fireplace and taking a sip of tea.

    “I just wanted to remind you that the term starts on September first. You’re welcome to use the school train.” he says in his slow, serene voice.

    “Thank you.”    

    “I have also informed Professor Snape that he will be making your Wolfsbane Potion every month… I seem to remember your own potion scores being, ahem, imperfect, if I may.”

    I spit my tea out in shock. “Snape? Severus Snape?”

    “Why, yes, Remus.” a few moments later comprehension dawns on his old face. “Ah… You and Severus did not… get along well, did you?”

    I smile regretfully. “No, sir.”

    “Well, I cannot say that he is pleased to be working alongside you. But I hope you can both overcome a simple schoolboy grudge.”

    I nod. “I expect we will make the best of it.” I doubt that; Snape’s hatred for the Marauder’s went much, much deeper than a simple schoolboy grudge.

    I begin to turn away from the fire, but Dumbledore’s soft, calm voice makes me turn.

    “I should also tell you, Remus, that Harry will be one of your third-year pupils… I hope you can become well acquainted throughout the year…” His voice is so soft now that it is nearly impossible to hear him. “James would have wanted it.”

    I let out a small sigh and try to ignore the stinging in my eyes. I was aware, of course, that I would be teaching Harry. But this seemed to make it final…

    Dumbledore sighs too. “He does look extraordinarily like James,” he muses to himself and disappears from the fire.

~

    “Here, Ja- Harry… have some chocolate, it‘ll help,” I say. Dumbledore wasn’t kidding when he said Harry looks like James…

    He looks surprised that I know his name, but doesn’t say anything. I look away from him; the resemblance is almost painful, dredging up memories of my own days at Hogwarts.

    There’s a very strong prickling sensation in the corners of my eyes, but I try and occupy myself. I hold out a piece of chocolate for the small red-headed girl huddled in the corner. I try and keep my eyes down but something makes me look up at Harry again. The itching in my eyes gets more intense and I feel a tear slip down my cheek. I wipe it away before anyone notices and announce that I need to go see the conductor.

    Out of the compartment the painful sorrow desists somewhat. I reach the conductor and send an owl ahead informing the school of Harry’s collapse.

    When I arrive back in Harry’s compartment the train is skidding to a halt. I grab my briefcase without glancing around, but I can feel familiar eyes watching me quietly. I leave the compartment as fast as I can.

~

    I study the Marauder’s Map in my office. It brings up memories of school… most of them were happy at one time but now they’re depressing. Then I see a name, one that I can’t decide if I want to see or not - Peter Pettigrew.

    I take a great gulp of air and look back at the page. The name is still there, but I can’t figure how. His ink dot is right next to Ron Weasley’s, near Hermione’s and Harry’s. Then I see something that gives me even more of an unpleasant shock - the name Sirius Black. I watch for a few more moments as Sirius pulls Ron and Peter towards the Whomping Willow, then into it’s secret passageway.

    I don’t need to see anymore. I drop the map on the desk and set off at a run. When I arrive, they’re already there…

    Realization pours over me like icy water as I grasp the truth. Sirius didn’t betray Lily and James…Peter did… And I hug Sirius. I can’t believe it.

    I explain the story to Harry, Ron, and Hermione… They’re skeptical. Snape comes… ties me in the ropes… The three attack him… he’s knocked unconscious.

    Me and Sirius force Peter to show himself… Harry saves him… We head back to the castle.

    It’s only when we’re almost there that I realize that I didn’t take my potion.

~

    “Where’s Sirius?” I shout. My words echo forlornly around the hospital wing, as though warning me not to expect a happy reply.

    “He’s gone,” whispers Dumbledore.

    “They….they kissed him?” The words tremble on the air, almost palpable to human eyes.

    Dumbledore smiles now. “He’s escaped. Harry and Hermione helped him.”

    “That’s impossible!” A tear slips down my cheek. “Just tell me…tell me he went happy. Did he say anything about me?”

    “Listen to me, Remus. I swear, on all my honor and magic, that Sirius escaped.”

    “How?” I croak. The words haven’t been used since Sirius was first arrested, but they have a well worn place in my soul. “How?”

    “Did you not know? Miss Granger had a useful implement she used for doing all her classes. Her schedule had quite a few more hours than normal…”

    My brow wrinkles in thought. Then- “A time turner?”

    Dumbledore smiles again. “Funny the way fate works. If she hadn’t wanted to take all those classes…why, Sirius may never have been saved.”

    “He’s really safe…” The words are more statement than question.

    ~

    I look up from the book I’m reading. An annoying, scratching noise is coming from the front door, like claws on metal.

    Then, I think, perhaps it is.

    The sound is familiar as I listen, though I haven’t heard it for years and years. The scratching of a dog needing to be let inside… Sirius.

    I sigh, more out of sad memories than anything. There’s no way it’s Sirius, but then…I’ve always had a soft spot for dogs.

    I open the front door to reveal a massive black dog that I’ve seen more than once, a shaggy, worn, hungry dog.

    He’s cut across the muzzle; angry slash marks that will probably scar if they’re not healed soon. There’s a long gash up his hind leg, bleeding freely. There is a set of bloody paw prints up the stairs and along the front porch, where the dog has walked so far it’s paws have cracked open.

    I open the door wider and the dog walks unsteadily in, leaving more bloody prints in his wake, over the worn white carpet and on the dusty floor. But I don’t care.

    I kneel down beside the dog, letting him sniff me, letting him know who I am.

    He transforms, slowly, painfully, the fur disappearing in clumps and the form of the human taking the canine’s place.

    He stands in front of me, no words. The cuts look worse against his raw skin, but there are no words.

    No words for the pain, or the suffering, or the love we feel for each other. No words.

~

    Laying in the bed in Sirius’ room, scarlet bed coverings hiding our naked bodies. The silence that surrounds us in impenetrable and as suffocating as a foam pillow.

    He is awake, eyes barely open, and I am reminded of our school days. But his tanned skin in lined with grids of thin, pearly-white scars, memories of our transformations and the night he arrived back at my house after fourteen years. His hair doesn’t fall in the same smooth cascade of dark, but is coarse to the touch, highlighted in grey, and his eyes have lost something. Once, they were bright, shining, a brilliant grey. No, not grey. They changed, never the same color twice. Sometimes, deep, nearly-black grey, and sometimes, the color of a fresh bruise, dark grey and broken-blood-vessel blue. And sometimes, the ocean, mostly stormy blue, and as brilliant as wet paint.

    Now, they are more of a simple grey color, bleached of the blue, and they remind me of the trip I once took to Azkaban. Does he remember, I wonder? I do. I did not want to go, but there has always been something pathetic about me when it comes to Sirius, something sucking me in like alcohol to a drunk man’s lips.

    The trip to Azkaban. Everything was grey, all grey; grey rocks, grey concrete, dark grey iron bars, and grey-cloaked dementors. It was cold, and his cell was at the very top, the high-security ward, and he was sitting in the corner, all dirty and pathetic and shining with cold sweat.

    I shivered twice when I saw him, once from the cold and painful memories and once more for the way he looked, decrepit at only twenty-nine, and so broken.

    I got as close to him as I could, the anger and pity and disgust all boiling around in my veins, and I was still four feet from the bars. But it was as close as I could get.

    He was staring at the ground, and for a moment I hesitated. “Sirius?” I whispered, quietly, frustration with him burning in my voice.

    I knew he’d heard, but he didn’t look up. Did he know it was me?

    “Siri?” I asked softly, and I hated myself for using his pet name. He hesitated, then looked up. He squinted in the gloom, trying to make me out, and I realized how much I hate him. What he did.

    He tried to smile at me, his cracked lips parting slightly to reveal crooked, yellowing teeth. The smile did not happen; it faded before surfacing, beaten back by the look on my own face.

    I started to turn away when he spoke again. “Remus.”

    I fixed him with a glare, an angry glare, and wondered what the hell I am doing here.

    “Rem - I - I’m sorry,” he said, softly, and his voice was so different. Once, it was strident, cool and fresh and rough at the same time. Now it hurt to listen to, brittle, pained, flat, bitter.

    My glare faded slowly, shocked. “Whatever, Sirius, whatever,” I mutter, turning away. His shouts of repentance followed me, ice water on my already frozen cheek.

    His eyes are like that now. All grey; a dank, expressionless grey, like broken rocks, always overbright.

~

    These memories are nothing, nothing at all. More than these, I remember him, in the raw, unscathed and unmasked. Him.

    But he is not Himself anymore; he has changed. He is Someone Else, someone less than what he was before, someone in pain. He is not the way he used to be; he is Nobody and Everybody, at the same time and at once.