Be All My Secrets Remembered

Chapter Two: Defence Against the Best Friends

June 1976

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" James asked the crowd at large with a gesture of a game-show announcer.

Remus set down his book and stood up. "Let him down, Prongs."

James turned back to his friend, his face evincing complete surprise. "Moony?"

"I told you to let him down." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the softness of his voice belying the import of his words. "It's an order from your prefect."

James laughed, half amused and half bewildered. "It's just a bit of fun, Moony."

"Let. Him. Down." Remus pulled out his wand. "I won't ask you again, Potter."

"You can't be serious." James stared, his mouth tightening as he realised that his friend was, in fact, serious. "Make me."

"Expelliarmus," Remus declared, as softly as the rest of his remarks had been. James fell backward and his wand flew out of his hand, landing on the ground in front of Remus, who bent and picked it up. Turning his own wand toward the still-airborne Snape, he lowered the other boy gently to the ground. "You went too far. Both of you," he added, including Sirius in the statement. "I'm very disappointed."

Still holding James's wand, he picked up his book and went back inside. James remained on the ground, disbelief stamped across his face, while Sirius jumped to his feet and bounded after the departing Remus.

"What the hell was that all about?" he demanded. "You've never had a problem with us teasing Snivellus before."

"Teasing, no. Cruelty, yes," Remus replied shortly. "You humiliated him, Padfoot. For your own amusement."

"What's it to you? Besides, you saw what he did to Prongs."

"After Prongs hexed him first, when you claimed you were bored." Remus whirled around unexpectedly, causing Sirius to take several steps backward. "I don't understand what you have against him. He's unpleasant. I'd never deny that. But all you need to do is avoid him."

"He's more than unpleasant, Moony," Sirius replied icily. "His very presence is an insult to me."

"And who are you to decide that?" Remus retorted. "My God, Padfoot, listen to yourself! You sound like...well, you sound like Snape, actually, if I had to be honest. Anyone would think you resented him for no better reason than he resents..." he trailed off. "You know."

"Go ahead, Moony. Say it. Mudbloods." The word made Sirius' mouth twist into a scowl.

Remus turned on his heel and continued walking.

"You want to know why I dislike him?" Sirius continued his pursuit, barely a step behind him. "Why I despise and loathe him?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Unless you don't even know yourself," Remus challenged.

They had reached the staircase to Gryffindor Tower and the portrait of the Fat Lady peered curiously down at them. "Having a bit of a tiff, dears?"

"Flabbergast," Remus muttered, ignoring the question.

The rotund woman in the portrait shrugged and opened the door. "Just talk it out. I've always found that to work."

Owing to the beautiful weather, the Common Room was thankfully empty. Sirius closed the door behind him and leant against it. Dropping the book and both wands on a table, Remus sighed and faced him.

"Padfoot, you and Prongs are my best friends. But if I'd listened to him, it would have undermined my authority as prefect in front of everyone. I couldn't let him do that." His shoulders slumped. "And I couldn't countenance your treatment of Snape."

"Why are you suddenly standing up for him, Moony? Will you at least give me that much of an explanation?" Sirius asked softly.

"Because someone has to." In fact, Remus wasn't precisely sure. Although memory stirred of an incident in the corridors some weeks earlier, three sixth-year Slytherins against a single third-year Hufflepuff. It had taken a combined effort of three different Prefects to pry them apart. That being said, he wasn't precisely sure Sirius would listen if he tried to explain.

"Evans did, didn't she? And look where it got her?"

"That doesn't matter, Padfoot. It's got nothing to do with how he treats me. I couldn't care less what he thinks of me. But as a prefect of this school, I cannot allow students to be treated that way, be they of my House or of someone else's."

Sirius shook his head with a bark of laughter. "And I thought having you as Prefect would be fun. The job's infected you, Moony. It took a long time, I'll admit. Almost a year. But if this is the way you're going to play it--"

"Sirius, I don't understand you. I truly don't," Remus closed his eyes. "How can you treat people the way you do? As though they were nothing but your toys? I don't just mean Snape. Peter--"

"Wormtail doesn't seem to mind."

"His name is Peter."

"We all agreed on the nicknames. He didn't object then. And he has no problem with my treatment of him, as you call it." Shoving his hands in his pockets, Sirius regarded his friend coldly. "Unless he's telling you things he's too much of a coward to bring up with me."

"He's not a coward, Sirius. Nor is he stupid. I don't understand why you and Prongs insist on treating him like your personal house elf." Remus paused to take a breath. "And to answer your question, he hasn't told me anything. I speak as I find."

"I don't see you doing him any favours either, Moony. So don't take the moral high ground with me just yet."

Remus flinched visibly.

Sirius waited just long enough for his words to sink in before remarking lightly, "Still, I have to admit this whole thing might have been worth it just for the look on Prongs' face when Evans insulted his hair."

"She was right, though," Remus observed, inwardly relieved to have left the subjects of Peter and Snape behind. "He does do that."

"I do wonder why he bothers, actually. It's plainly obvious to me that she'll never come round. And though Evans is very pretty, she's hardly worth the constant rejection." All previous animosity apparently forgotten, Sirius wandered to the nearest chair and settled into it, his back against one of the arms and his legs slung over the other. "Hell, you'd have a better chance with her than Prongs would."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Remus remained standing, though he leaned against the back of the sofa.

"I think you do, o defender of innocent Slytherins," Sirius teased, "who are like small fluffy animals except in the sense that they are neither small nor fluffy."

"And that analogy means what?"

"I'm sure she saw your little defence of Snivellus. And if I'm not mistaken, she actually talks to you." Sirius held his hands out, palm up, in a gesture of surrender. "Am I mistaken?"

"No, you're not," Remus replied, wanting to ask him where he was going with this line of questioning but electing to keep the question to himself. "Still, that's not evidence for anything."

"Moony, you're not looking at me." Sirius studied his friend for a moment or two, something dawning on his face. "You fancy her too, don't you?"

"I do not fancy her. And besides, it wouldn't matter even if I did. I've known how Prongs felt about her for months now."

"I don't believe it." Sirius shook his head slowly. "Are you going to do anything about it?"

"I told you I don't fancy her," Remus insisted. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I don't." After a moment's thought, he added, "You've got a martyr complex."

"I've got a what?"

"You fancy a girl who just happens to be a friend of yours. And yet you choose not to tell her anything and just sit on the sidelines and pine away while your best friend goes after her?" He shrugged. "Stinks of martyrdom to me."

"I'd rather keep my friendships intact, thank you," Remus stated, positively daring Sirius to argue the point. Really, what did it matter if Padfoot thought he fancied Evans? "And, as you said, it doesn't look as though Prongs is doing a particularly good job at the moment."

"You say that as though you think it'll change."

"I believe it will." Despite Sirius' querying look, Remus refused to say more, doing his best not to look smug. "You, on the other hand, are beyond redemption."

"And you'd not have it any other way. Admit it."

Remus had to laugh, albeit ruefully. "I suppose someone has to be the bad element and it might as well be you."

"So you don't think I'll make Head Boy?" At Remus' explosion of laughter, Sirius grinned. "So much for my grand plans of rule-following glory."

"I'd see Prongs as Head Boy before I'd ever see you. At least he's got morals on occasion."

"I have morals," Sirius protested. "They just don't quite mesh with yours."

"Right. I think they went into hiding years ago and haven't come out since."

"Remus..." At the sudden seriousness in his friend's tone, Remus regarded him curiously. "When Snivellus called Evans a Mudblood, he deserved precisely what was coming to him. He's called her that before, and he calls you a filthy Muggle-lover. Don't tell me you haven't heard it."

"It doesn't matter. I won't lower myself to his level."

"That's what your friends are there to do, Moony. To lower themselves to levels hitherto unexplored on your behalf," Sirius pointed out, only half joking. "My morals, such as they are, dictate that Snivellus Snape is a pathetic excuse for a human being and should therefore be ridiculed as such."

"And I don't see how your morals can dictate what Snape is or is not," Remus insisted. "I know there's something else. Let's hear it."

Sirius hesitated. "Snape is...well...for lack of better words to express it, Snape is what my mother would have me be."

"Whinging and snivelling?" Remus could not hide his surprise. "Surely not."

"No. Constantly declaring the pure-blood dogma and smiting all else who come across my path." He smiled bitterly. "I am of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, after all. Though I'm a disgrace to the family, or so I've been told repeatedly. My brother Regulus, now there's a model Black for you. If Mother doesn't pull him out and send him to Durmstrang instead, he'll be Slytherin Prefect in his fifth year, I guarantee it."

"You do realise this is the first time you've ever said anything more than superficial about your family in the five years I've known you," Remus observed.

"If you were related to them, you'd not talk about them either."

"Padfoot...I'm not sure what is the best way to put this, or if there's a good way to do it." He thought for a moment. "It occurs to me that while you know every insignificant detail of what goes on with me or Prongs or Wormtail, we never know what goes on with you. You never tell us any more than you have to about anything serious. Like your family..."

"You want to meet my family, Remus?" Sirius had shifted in the chair, his back ramrod-straight. "Do you really want to?"

"I'm just saying..."

"Do you want to?" he repeated.

Remus sighed. "I suppose so, yes. I'm just confused, Padfoot. I don't understand where you're coming from and I want to understand."

"Very well then," Sirius replied, with another short bark of laughter. "Narcissa's wedding is two weeks after school ends. Consider this your invitation, and I'll tell Prongs and Wo---Peter as well. Might as well give you a few links to sanity."

"Sirius, you don't have to, really..."

"If you want to meet my family," Sirius repeated dully, "then you'll meet them."

***

Madame Pomfrey frowned disapprovingly down at James. "Whatever were you doing to give yourself this scratch, young man?"

"I...it was an accident," James managed, noting Peter's anxious expression.

"Looks like a hex to me." She placed her hands on her hips. "James Potter, how many times have you been told not to hex people?"

He coloured. "I didn't...I'm the one that's bleeding!"

"Yes, and Severus Snape apparently spent a good few minutes floating in the air, or so I heard. Professor McGonagall has already given you detention, and I'm only fixing this up so you can go straight to her office."

"But that's not fair! He--" At James's glare, Peter cut himself off.

Madame Pomfrey regarded the second boy curiously, "He what, Mr Pettigrew? Have you something to say?"

"No, Madame Pomfrey." He stared at his shoes.

"As usual, Mr Potter, you will be fine. I just wish you would learn a little more self-control. You've got the brains, boy, you just don't have a speck of common sense." She murmured an incantation that neither boy could fully hear, and James felt the wound on his cheek closing. "There. Now, off to detention with you."

When the door to the Hospital Wing had closed behind them, Peter immediately piped up, "Why didn't Black get detention too?"

"Because he didn't actually do anything, Wormtail," James pointed out wearily. "Because he's Padfoot and he knows better than to actually get caught doing something against the rules. Saying things is one thing, and that's what he does."

"And Moony! What the hell was wrong with him?" Peter demanded, bristling as he attempted to catch up with the taller James.

James sighed. "Wormtail, just stop. I don't need you to dissect what happened. I was there, after all. And it's just detention. I get detentions every week. And no doubt Padfoot will say something offensive and end up there too, so it'll be no different from the usual."

"But it's not fair."

"What, do you want to take my detention for me?" James asked with a roll of his eyes. "If not, then stop talking about it. Honestly, anyone would think you were the one in trouble."

Peter opened his mouth to argue but ultimately thought better of it. Instead, he let James go on and took a different corridor back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Thankfully, the only person he found there was Remus, who was standing by the window and frowning at something he couldn't see. At Peter's entrance, he glanced over.

"Prongs seems to be alright."

Peter shrugged. "Yeah. Looked worse than it was, I'm sure. Why did you stop him?"

"I'm a Prefect. It's my job." Remus sighed. "Look, I already had to explain to Padfoot. You mind taking me at my word?"

"Sure," Peter conceded with a vague gesture. "I know you don't like Snivellus either, though."

"That's not the point, Wormtail."

"Fine, fine." He sank onto the couch. "I'm glad it's all over, though. O.W.L.s."

"Yeah, I agree," Remus said with a smile. "We can relax all summer."

"Except for worrying about them." He frowned into the empty hearth. "I think I failed Potions."

"I'm sure you didn't." Was it his imagination or did Remus not sound convincing in the slightest? "Nobody ever really thinks they do well on exams. Except Prongs and Padfoot, but they're an exception."

"Moony, I really think I did. I just couldn't remember anything. And you saw my practical." His cauldron had exploded, spilling bright orange sludge all over the floor. "I'm sure I failed."

"Talk to Professor Agrippa. He might be willing to make an exception for you. After all, you had reason to be distracted. He knows that."

"I don't think they accept that as an excuse. Besides, Padfoot's dad died in the same accident, and look at him." Bitterness corroded Peter's voice, much as he tried to hide it. "Nobody ever understands when he's involved."

"You don't really mean that. Padfoot's...different."

"You mean brilliant. Not like me." Peter knew he was whinging, but couldn't stop. "I just wish it were anyone else, you know. Someone who actually has to work or concentrate, but no, it had to be bloody Padfoot, who can get Oustandings in his sleep."

There really wasn't anything to say to that, he acknowledged, and he really couldn't blame Remus for not rising to the bait. Instead, his friend was just watching him with a slight, pinched frown. "At least it's over," he finally said.

Peter decided to let him off the hook and forced a small smile. "Yeah. There's that."

***

The last day of classes was usually the worst time to try to find somebody, especially in a different House, but somehow Lily managed to pull Severus Snape aside near one of the greenhouses. Crossing her arms over her chest, she regarded him forbiddingly. "Well?"

"Well what?" he glanced over his shoulder as if unwilling to look at her. As well he ought to be. "We've got to go. We'll miss the train."

"Aren't you planning to apologise?"

To his credit, he flushed a little. It did not suit him any more than his usual pallor. Staring fixedly at the ground, he finally murmured, "I'm sorry. It...slipped out."

"I guess they call me that often in Slytherin," she observed softly. "Do they?"

He nodded. "I don't."

"Not that it would matter if you did," Lily sighed, though she could feel her anger abating somewhat. "I know it was because of Potter."

"Arrogant bastard." His fingers were twitching at the pocket holding his wand. "It won't always be like this. Someday he'll get his."

Lily laughed, albeit with some discomfort. "At least Remus stopped him."

"About bloody time," Snape shot back coldly. "It only took him an entire year to remember he was a Prefect around those two. Lupin's a weakling. He should never have been made Prefect."

She didn't know quite what to say to that, so she just shrugged. "Anyway."

"Anyway," he echoed. "See you next year." And, without another word, he hurried off toward the knot of Slytherins near the front doors. Lily waited for what had become the requisite few minutes before emerging to join Moira and Kate. It was time to go home.