Balanced

Sirius was set on the idea that they would become Animagi. He seemed to ignore the small detail of it being illegal, and the difficulty of mastering it; in fact, this only made the idea seem far more attractive to him. The four did as much reading as they could on Animagi, but they found little, apart from a few lists of the registered ones.

'When were you bitten?' James asked Remus, one day. Although Remus had said that he didn't mind discussing it, they all still found the topic rather difficult and had avoided it as much as possible. James had finally let curiosity get the better of him.

'I was five,' said Remus, slowly; Sirius and Peter were now listening too. 'I was out walking with two of my cousins. We were fairly close to the village we lived in then. It was getting quite late and I wanted to go back, but they were happy outside and I went off by myself, because I didn't really like the dark.'

'You're scared of the dark?' asked Sirius, incredulously.

'Not exactly,' muttered Remus, embarrassed. 'I was scared of the dark. But since I was bitten I've grown to like darkness.'

'Do you like the time you transform?' asked Peter.

'No, definitely not,' said Remus. 'When it's dark and there isn't a moon, I won't transform. And no one will be able to see me, on full moon nights. It doesn't really make sense, I know that.' He looked quite uncomfortable, and James supposed it would be nice to change the subject.

'What happened?' he asked. Maybe it wasn't nice, but it was interesting.

'I got a bit lost, and this giant, horrible wolf with evil eyes came running up. I ran away as fast as I could. I thought it was just an ordinary, but large, wolf, as I'd never seen a werewolf before. I tried to get away, but it caught up and attacked me. I curled up into a ball on the ground, to try and protect myself, and it scratched all down my back, and on my head, and bit my shoulder, then my leg. It burnt - it was like sticking your hand in a fire.'

'That's painful,' said Sirius. 'Not a smart thing to do, either.'

'Which explains why, when you describe it, you speak from experience,' James told him. 'Please go on, Remus.'

'It would have killed me then, I think, just ripped me apart, but this man appeared. He shot at it with his wand and chased it off, then he turned to me. I don't know what he was doing. He pushed me onto my back and asked me my name, and I just cried and said it had bitten me. He saw the bites, and he suddenly looked terrified, and disgusted. And he ran off.'

'He what!?' gasped Sirius.

'Don't look so surprised. I didn't understand it at the time, but I was too hurt and upset to try and get help. I just lay there. It felt like the burning was spreading through my body, and I felt really bad all over. My father found me early in the morning. He's a Muggle and he didn't even know Hogwarts existed, so he didn't run off, scared, he took me home. Mum had to tell him about magic then, when she found out what had happened to me.'

'What are the transformations like?' asked Peter. 'Most books say they're painful.'

'You have no idea,' said Remus, sadly. 'It still feels like burning, spreading all over me and engulfing me, and I'm pulled out of place and I often faint. Then I'm hungry, and all I want is to eat humans though, nothing else. I can't control myself. I've never bitten anyone, or killed anyone, but there have been a few close shaves.'

On finding out that Remus was a werewolf, James had felt very narrow-minded indeed; he'd always thought he was above some of the stupid prejudices shared by those of his house, and others. Disliking werewolves hadn't seemed that bad. But to suddenly find out he knew one, and it was one of his best friends! They suddenly didn't seem so bad anymore, which was the exact opposite to what he'd been brought up (by his parents) to think.

At least it meant that Remus didn't try and give them any other excuses when he disappeared once a month.

Over Easter, the second years were given lists with new subjects on them, to take the next year. All four went for Care of Magical Creatures - most people in the year seemed to sign up for that, as it looked rather easy. James and Remus both decided to take Divination and Peter chose Arithmancy as a second subject. Sirius surprised them all and took Muggle Studies, saying it could be useful.

'You could save yourself the trouble,' Peter told him, 'and just ask me, James or Remus if you need to know stuff. Besides, you went to Muggle school.'

'When did I volunteer to teach Muggle Studies?' James wanted to know, but the others ignored him.

'Nah,' said Sirius. 'I'll ask you for help with my homework, if I need it, and get full marks, it's a easy way to pass it, besides, mum told me a lot of stuff before I went to Muggle school. I'm only taking it because I can't fail it.'

'I suppose you're lucky, getting told,' James told him. 'I was shoved into the Muggle world at age six after my parents were murdered, and told not to tell anyone about the Wizarding world. Of course, I didn't even know what to say and what not to say. Aunt Susan and the kids at school thought I was crazy because I hardly talked.'

'And now you've got it figured out, you hardly stop,' Remus reminded him.

'What I want to know,' said Sirius, 'is why you moan about being thought of as crazy, nothing much has changed. The kids at school still think you're nuts.'

'Unlike you,' began James, 'they were nasty about it. Can you even imagine being told, at age six that, yes, your parents were dead, and no, they weren't coming back, and to be careful not to tell anyone about the Wizarding world because they were all Muggles "tell them mummy and daddy died in a car crash".' He imitated the high-pitched voice of the patronizing and pitying witch who'd taken him to Aunt Susan. 'Then you find out that because you don't know a lot of stuff and don't talk much, everyone thinks you're mental and stupid.'

'Nice,' murmured Sirius. 'Don't get too worked up though, Jamesy, the witch worked for the Ministry: they're all patronizing gits there. Especially mum and dad.'

The exams were only a month after the Easter holidays. Remus was to miss their Astronomy exam because it was a full moon that night, but he would also be rather ill during most of the exam week.

'McGonagall said I can retake any I miss, whether it's because I've already left, or if I'm feeling too ill.'

'I bet she's acting under Dumbledore's orders,' observed Sirius. 'Because that's a nice thing to offer Remus, showing a certain amount of sympathy, which is nothing she would do voluntarily.'

'It might be because I'll probably be OK for the Transfiguration exam,' Remus suggested.

'More than likely,' said Peter. 'If anybody else is ill then I bet they'll still have to take them.'

'Of course,' said Remus, while trying to organize some revision notes.

'I hate exams,' muttered James, looking up from the large book he was reading.

'You're revising aren't you?' asked Sirius. 'No, wait, you're not, how silly of me. What book is that?'

'It's got a bit of stuff on becoming an Animagi,' James told them quietly. 'Listen: "The theory behind this is simple: will and want. The wizard in question has to want this enough and have the strength of mind to do it. Only through practice can this be achieved. The animal is a part of the wizard and is always there, and the ritual is made much more difficult if the wizard tries to become an Animagus of a different form."'

'We definitely need to get some new books on this,' said Sirius, slipping a copy of a new comic, Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle, inside a large book on Potions. 'What?' he said, looking at them. 'I have to revise.' James moved his chair so he could read the comic over Sirius' shoulder. Peter and Remus exchanged glances and got to work.

'SIRIUS BLACK!' yelled a girl who had just entered the library. She looked annoyed, and sounded it too. She had darkish red hair and was quite short. 'Get over here! Now!'

'Who? Me?' asked Sirius, innocently.

'No, the other Sirius sitting behind you,' she replied, sarcastically. Sirius looked at James, confused.

'Are you the other Sirius?' he asked. James gave him an equally confused look.

'Maybe she meant Remus,' he suggested. The girl glared.

'Just get over here now, Black!' she told him.

'OK, OK, what now?' Sirius got up and sauntered over. She grabbed him roughly by the robes and pulled him out.

'Three Galleons says it's a Dungbomb,' said James.

'James: we don't keep that kind of "small change" on us,' replied Remus, irritably, reminding James that he had forgotten how much money he had.

'Three Knuts says Sirius tells us it's a desperate girlfriend,' James put in.

'Yeah, OK,' said Peter. 'What makes you think he'll say that? He's proud of setting off Dungbombs.'

Sirius returned only ten minutes later.

'What was all that about?' asked James.

'Oh, the girls just can't keep their hands off me.'

'Pay up, Peter.' James stuck his hand out. Peter pulled a face and handed James three Knuts. 'I bet him you'd say it was a desperate girlfriend,' he told Sirius. 'It was a Dungbomb wasn't it?'

'Yep,' said Sirius, grinning slightly. 'Some of these girls have no sense of humour. I just left one in her bed for her.'

'Who was she?'

'Er... dunno... I can't remember her name. She's in the year above us.'

Like last year, the exams weren't much fun, but not too difficult, either. James' Charms practical went OK, although he wasn't so confident about History of Magic, because he had slept through most of the lessons. Remus, once again, seemed certain that he would fail Potions, as not only was it one of his worst subjects, but it was also the first exam he did after he came back from his transformation and he felt ill all day.

The weekend after the exams, the school was in a state of relaxation: no more revision until the next year and not much work. The weather was good and the four spent several hours outside on James' broomstick, or Sirius', although the latter was far less desirable.

'Oy! Potter!' yelled a voice from down on the ground, when James was midway through a loop. He floated down to the speaker, still upside down and holding on with only his feet. 'That your broom?'

'Yup,' he replied. The speaker was Edward Callaway, a fifth year Slytherin Chaser famed for being one of the best in the school.

'Are you going to try out for the team next year? That idiot Parker is leaving and we'll have room for another Chaser.'

'Yeah, I think I am,' said James, flipping upright as he was starting to feel a little dizzy.

'Good, I think you could do pretty well,' said Callaway and walked off. James couldn't help grinning: one of the best Quidditch players in the school had told him he flew well. He flew back up to the others. Sirius was on his broom and Peter and Remus were on Shooting Stars borrowed from the school.

'What was all that about?' asked Remus.

'He said I should try out for the team next year,' said James.

'Who was that?' asked Sirius. James sighed.

'You know, Sirius,' he said, 'I am beginning to feel privileged that you actually remember my name. It was Edward Callaway, he's on the Slytherin team.'

'Oh, right,' said Sirius. 'I think I've seen him play before.' James sighed and shot towards his friend, who only just managed to duck.

Julian wasn't at dinner that night.

'Do you know where he is?' James asked the others. Nobody had any idea.

'I'm going to look for him after dinner,' said Michael; the two were good friends. Severus pulled a face.

'I don't see why you need to bother, he'll turn up in the end,' he said. Snape's friendship with them was not exactly a special one: it seemed, to James, that he only actually spent time with them because they went to the same lessons, he had a lot of older friends, most of whom he just described as "family friends".

'I'll look as well,' James told Michael. 'I like going round the school when we're not supposed to, besides, the only other thing I have to do this evening is left over homework from before the exams.' Michael shrugged.

'Are you trying to lose as many points for Slytherin as possible?' asked Severus. James just gave him a look; he should know the answer to that by now.

Julian wasn't in the common room or their dormitory. He also wasn't in the library.

'Julian! Are you in here?' Michael asked. They had made their way to the fifth floor boys' toilets.

'Get lost!' he snapped from inside a cubicle.

'Julian: however appealing the idea of living in a toilet is, you're going to have to come out some time,' James told him, annoyed. 'Out, now, or I'll blast the door down.' Michael gave him a look, which clearly told him to be nicer.

'You wouldn't?' Julian half-asked.

'How much do you want to bet?' asked James. 'You have no idea how long I have wanted to blast a hole in a toilet door, believe me when I say I would take advantage of this opportunity.' Julian slowly emerged; he looked very upset, like he'd been crying.

'Why weren't you at dinner?' Michael asked, carefully.

'D-Dumbledore come to find me,' replied Julian. 'My father's been killed.' James remembered that Julian had told them his father had been in Hufflepuff. Julian looked as though he was about to start crying again.

This was bad; since the murders at Christmas, the school had settled down again, and it was assumed that the killer had given up, or got bored, as there had been no more deaths. The students no longer looked at the Daily Prophet with dread, or woke up worried, or sent letters home daily; they had relaxed, and the whole atmosphere had become nicer and happier. Another murder was not good. James supposed that in the back of his mind, he hadn't truly believed that the killer was gone for good; he doubted many others had either.

He looked at Julian and put a hand on his shoulder, unsure of what to do.

'It's just not fair,' moaned Julian.

'Of course it's not,' said Michael.

'I'm the only Slytherin,' Julian said. 'Now everyone will know that my parents weren't Slytherins, no Slytherin has been killed yet.'

'Oh stop whining, my parents were killed by exactly the same person, and I come from one of the oldest Slytherin families there is,' said James.

'Yours were killed by the same murderer?' said Julian, gaping. 'I knew they were dead, but the same person?'

'Yeah, I can remember it, the same snake cloud thing.'

'What if he goes for Mum next?' asked Julian, sadly. James didn't know what to say: he doubted the killer was going to specifically target Julian's entire family, but that was little but speculation.

'Are you going to the funeral?' he asked. Julian nodded.

'My mum's coming to collect me tomorrow.'

'Do you want to head back to the common room now?' Michael asked; a freezing cold bathroom wasn't the ideal place to stay up all night and chat.

'The Ministry got one of the murderers.' Both James and Michael turned to Julian, who obviously didn't want to leave. 'Dumbledore told me; I don't know much, but it'll probably be in the newspaper tomorrow.' James grimaced: as much as he would have liked his picture in the Daily Prophet, he'd rather not have it in a report on a relative's murder.

'The Ministry will want to let the public know that they've finally caught someone, even if it is one of a group,' said James, quietly. It would help, of course; it would put some people at ease that someone had been caught; it was a relief to James, too, although he didn't really have any relatives to lose.

There was a report the next morning: "Finally someone is caught!". Although another murder scared the school, James had been right in assuming that someone being caught would calm them. Little information was given though: no one knew who had been caught, or what he or she had to say, but the Ministry said they would continue to inform the public what they found out.

'Poor Julian,' said Remus, looking over the report later that day.

'Do you know the person?' asked Sirius. James sighed, his friend's selective memory was very annoying at times.

'He's in Slytherin,' he told Sirius. 'Our year, you have Transfiguration and Potions with him, I put something in his dinner last term, that you and Peter had somehow created, that made him float right up to the ceiling and he was banned from leaving the castle all day.' Sirius thought hard for a few seconds.

'I think I remember him, but I might be thinking of the other boy.' James was very tempted to curse his friend, but he settled for the usual green sparks instead.

Only a few days before the end of term, another report was published in the Daily Prophet: the person who was caught had confessed. He had told the Ministry that it was one person who was responsible for all the murders, although James suspected they already knew that: not only was the same symbol used every time, but Mrs Black had said some stuff about it the previous summer. The man caught claimed that he was a "Death Eater" although no one was completely sure what one of those was, and that he was working for the "Dark Lord" whose name he wouldn't mention. The "Dark Lord" was supposedly gaining power and followers, but the person caught didn't know any names. His identity was kept a secret from everyone. The Ministry assured everyone that with the help of the "Death Eater's" confession, they would soon be able to track down the unnamed "Dark Lord".

'Do you think they're much closer to catching him then?' Peter asked. The four were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, heading back to Kings Cross station.

'Peter, do you know anything about politics?' asked James, and Peter looked confused. 'The high up Ministry officials will lie as much as possible, just to keep in power. Very few people who work in the Ministry will realise what's going on, and those that do are happy with everyone else not knowing.' He glanced over to Sirius, who was staring out of the window, watching the countryside fly past; there were a few drops of rain on it now, and more kept appearing. The clouds were dark over their heads. 'Are you OK, mate?' he asked.

Sirius turned away, looking slightly confused, as though waking up.

'Yeah, I'm fine.' He looked at the three of them, one at a time, and seemed to realise that no one was prepared to believe him. 'I am fine. But I'm not sure about Mum. She used to tell me loads of stuff about her job, and who she was spying on, and what she found. Now she's just stopped. If I ask her in my letters, she just ignores the question, and if I ask her in person she says it's not for me to know.'

'You don't think it was because she caught us listening in last summer?' Remus asked, tentatively.

'No, it was before that, she probably doesn't even remember last summer.'

'Ah, the Black family selective memory,' said James, wisely, and Sirius pulled a face.

'She always used to trust me,' he said, whining slightly, 'even when I was quite young. I want to know what it is she has to hide from me.' The other three exchanged a glance; not possessing the same selective memory as Sirius, they all remembered the previous summer very well: Mrs Black had said that there was something about either Sirius or James. Sirius seemed to realise what they were thinking.

'You don't think she doesn't want to tell me that I'm in trouble?' he asked.

'Possibly,' offered James. 'But we don't know if it's you or me.'

They sat in silence for a while, an incredible achievement for four twelve year old boys.

'Sirius?' asked James, after a bit.

'Yeah?'

'Will you lend me your owl this summer?'

'Why?'

'I don't have one, and I want to see if Aunt Susan will let you three come over for a couple of weeks, and then I can owl you and tell you.'

'OK, it could be fun,' replied Sirius. He picked up his owl cage, and handed it (and the owl inside) to James. Freckle the owl was a rather ordinary looking owl, but he gave a very human-sounding sigh of relief when Sirius handed him to James. James couldn't blame the owl, as he dreaded to think the sort of things Sirius fed it.

Aunt Susan was rather surprised to see that he had an owl, particularly one that shrieked loudly when the car started to move.

'Where did you get that from?'

'It's Sirius',' he replied. 'I'm borrowing it. I'll probably get my own this summer.' Aunt Susan, who had been told by the Ministry representative that James might be mentally unstable after his parents' death, shot him a very worried glance.

~*~

A/N

Poor old Remus!

Poor James, not getting to blow up the toilet door, oh well.

*hands out hexed chocolate frogs to all the reviewers, beta readers and JKR*