Predator-Prey Relationships

Chapter One - Potions and Portents

School, real school, that is, came as a rude slap in the face. Actually, Remus thought, it's more like a kick. In the stomach. From someone wearing steel-toed boots.

He heaved himself resignedly out of bed, pulling the curtains open. No sooner had he drawn them back enough to see what was going on in the dorm than he was hit, full on in the face, with a jet of freezing water. His first thought, Blast, was closely followed by his second; I'm going to murder Sirius.

"Ah, wake up already, we've got classes in half an hour, and two new teachers," the black-haired boy admonished him in his pleasantly growling voice.

James, who, Remus noticed, was also dripping wet, nodded sanctimoniously. "And we wouldn't want to be late on our first day back. 'Specially not you, Prefect Moony, what kind of example would that set?"

Remus responded by shaking his head violently to dry his hair, ensuring that Sirius was caught in the spray, and began to prepare himself for the day.

"Why, why, why, do we always manage to get potions with the Slytherins? Is it a punishment for my misdeeds? If so, I repent!" Sirius said, not bothering to keep his voice down, as they entered the potions room. This earned him a rather nasty look from a new boy, who, Remus remembered, had transferred to Hogwarts from Durmstrang in what was evidently an exchange of sorts, for they had 'lost' Igor Karkaroff to the other school, which he shot right back. The boy stood up. He stood a full head taller than Sirius, which was rather uncommon. James and Remus, without hesitation, stepped in to flank Sirius.

"That will be quite enough, thank you. Now, if you will be so kind as to take your seats, I can begin the lesson," came a fluid voice from the door behind them. They obeyed, more out of curiosity than deference to the new professor, and watched a pale young witch in light blue robes pulled high at the color stride into the room. She was really rather attractive, but the flash in her silvery eyes was reminiscent of McGonagall's, which had the effect of quelling all such thoughts instantaneously. She turned to the class.

"I am professor Sanguire. This is potions class. You are my students, and my job is to teach you. Any questions? Come now, they're perfectly welcome, how else will you learn a thing? I give you fair warning that if you are unsure about adding, say, powdered ginseng to essence of arrowroot, and fail to ask for clarification, you may well wind up sporting a rather large pair of antlers."

At this, Peter, Remus and Sirius shot amused looks at James, who seemed to be having difficulty keeping a straight face.

"Of course, if this is your desire, be my guest, but please do not trouble yourself to come my class when you come into rut." The class, well, most of it, chuckled apprehensively (it was rather clear that they hadn't a clue what 'coming into rut' was) Remus, James and Savannah, however, laughed out loud. Well, maybe she won't be so bad Remus smiled. Several hands were raised when short-lived merriment died away, including the new Slytherin's.

"Yes, Mister Lestrange?"

"Tell me we are going to learn some real potions in this class? At my old school, first years could learn the Draught of Living Death," he said, voice harsh, sharp and irritable.

"The effects of a potion need not be quite so devastating as that to render it important. Part of the beauty of the art is its subtlety. Mister Snape?"

"Please, Professor," came the oily voice the four friends so despised. "Will we be learning Gypson's Somnolent Fire?"

"Don't even want to know what that is," muttered Sirius, very, very quietly.

"We certainly will, despite Mister Black's reluctance on the matter," she responded, flashing her teeth at Sirius, who was looking rather nervous. She continued to answer questions about the curriculum until the end of the period. Once in the hallways again, and out of what they hoped was earshot of Professor Sanguire, this time en route to Defense Against the Dark Arts (James' and Sirius' favorite class, as it involved the most wand use and hexing of people) hurried discussion broke out. "She seems rather nice, doesn't she?" Savannah Michaels asked.

"I liked her. She knew what she was doing, which is all too rare a quality in teachers. And she did seem nice," Remus replied.

"Yeah, wonder how she heard Sirius, though...think she's a werewolf?" James asked, looking pointedly at Remus. "Aren't they supposed to have exceptionally good hearing?"

Remus shrugged. "That'd be cool though, a werewolf teacher." James continued. "Its about time we had a decent potions professor, Murdoch was a complete-"

"Weird, that she was wearing blue," piped in Peter "Most teachers just wear the same black robes-" he was cut off by their arrival at the DATDA room. The four of them took seats in the front row, following James' lead. Professor Flitwick, excitable though he could be, was easily one of their favorite teachers.

"This year, as I'm sure you all know, you have your O.W.L-s. So that'll be the gist of our class-work this year. Clear your desks. And please stand up."

This, they did, and Flitwick waved his wand, causing the chairs to pile up in a neat stack in the corner. The rest of the class was spent learning defending charms, with students paired off so they could take it in turns to defend and attack. Remus lost his concentration chuckling at the pleasure Lily seemed to get out of hexing James, and wound up doing an odd sort of dance when Sirius took advantage of the lapse. They left Professor Flitwick's class in good spirits, though James was finding it rather hard to look impressive while limping. As their next class didn't start for another forty-five minutes, they decided to take what James called 'the scenic route'.

It was windy, and the fallen leaves swirled along the ground. The air was still warm and the sun shone pleasantly on the backs of their necks as they moved across the lawn. Teachers and students alike had come out to enjoy the air, and were standing around or sitting in groups. Striding towards them, regrettably, came a group of seven Slytherins, with Lestrange in the lead.

"So, Potter," He said, throaty voice stabbing at each word, "Looks like I'll be bashing your head in, in a month's time." He gestured to his side, where an exceptionally vampiric looking fourth year slid into view, holding a flyer concerning a Quidditch match. She moved with rather the same easy grace of Professor Sanguire, indeed, she looked very much like the new potions teacher, save for a wicked smirk and eyes dark as the stormy ocean, rather than the cool, fluid silver of Sanguire's. Tall for her year, she stood at Remus' eye level. When she spoke, her voice was cold, unfeeling.

"Yes, dearest cousin," she fixed Sirius with a mocking glare "Quidditch match at the end of the month. Pity it'll be Jamie here's last. Our new beater"-she gestured up at Lestrange-"Has been looking for a little excitement around here. Seems we're not quite as up with the times as his old school."

James tensed. Sirius growled. Remus and Peter let their wands fall into their hands.

"Why so much talk, Bella? Afraid the broom won't carry this bulky git?" James indicated Lestrange. The other Slytherins moved in, wands drawn.

Sirius gave his barking laugh. "Seven against four? Alright, the odds are in our favor." Abruptly, he wheeled on Lestrange.

"Expelliarmus!" the large boy's wand flew backwards. Sirius continued to pivot, slashing his wand like a rapier. Bellatrix leapt to the side and brought her wand up hard, sending a bolt of magic straight into Sirius' face. Moony stepped in quickly.

"Petrificus Totallus" he said with relative calm. Bellatrix froze. Literally. Wormtail moved in behind Prongs, who had Lestrange at wand-point. Padfoot sprung to his feet and sliced the air with his wand spitting the word

"Finunkulus".

"FINITE INCANTATUM!" came Professor McGonagalll's severe voice. Everyone, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, suddenly resembled Bellatrix. McGonagalll stormed up to them, fury incarnate.

"Just what do you think you're doing? You know perfectly well that dueling is not permitted on school grounds! Lestrange! Avery! Churvis! Potter! Black! Detention!" Here she paused to take a breath. No one had moved a muscle, though Peter was now emitting small noises. He seemed to be struggling to say something. "And Mr. Lupin, really, I'm surprised at you. A prefect should know better! I'm going to have to give you a-"

"Professor," Sirius growled imploringly, "Remus told us not to. He was trying to stop us." Sirius made a quick motion with his hand behind his back. Remus got the message and discretely pointed his wand at Bellatrix.

"Enervate," he intoned. Though she was no longer in the full-body bind, only the girl's dark eyes moved, flicking from her fellow Slytherin Quidditch players to the Gryffindor students to the irate McGonagalll. Its like you can see her twisted mind turning thought Remus, somewhat impressed with his adversary's collectedness.

McGonagalll sighed. "Is this true?"

James opened his mouth.

"Mister Pettigrew? Miss Black?" She turned to James, who was slowly closing his mouth, looking abashed. "I need hardly to ask you for confirmation of Black's veracity, Mister Potter." But a note of pride slipped into her prim tones.

Peter took one glance at the expression Sirius wore, and nodded furiously. Bellatrix, on the other hand, looked out of the corners of her eyes to make contact with each Marauder before answering in silky tones.

"Yes, professor. Lupin did try and stop his friends attacking us. Obviously, he failed." McGonagalll looked at the other Slytherins, but Bellatrix shot them such a razor-edged glare that not one dared speak.

"Very well then, but I'm still most disappointed in you all. The first day of term, and already causing trouble. See that it doesn't happen again." She wheeled, not once looking back, as though daring them to start anything.

As one, the Slytherin Quidditch team turned and began to leave, Lestrange in the lead. James, who was staring open-mouthed at Bellatrix, started to speak. She cut him off.

"Its simple Potter. You. Owe. Me."

With those ominous words, she followed her team away from the shocked quartet.

Sirius recovered first. "No use having us all in detention. Moony, you can use the time to spy on Snivellus. Where's your cloak, Prongs?" He finished, with a look at James, who nodded.

"I'll get it out. What class's next?"

Peter grimaced as he looked at his schedule. "Transfiguration. Just our luck."

Chapter Two - Wolf Amongst the Sheep

Transfiguration was rather uneventful, save for the assigning of Sirius' and James' detentions.

"I wish she'd let us do 'em together...I'm not exactly looking forward to scrubbing the dungeons, in the dark, alone with that Lestrange."

Sirius had a more optimistic view of his: "I've got off working for Professor Gam...y'know, the new Charms guy? Shouldn't be too hard."

"Yeah, he transferred to being the staff advisor for Charms club this year...that's usually Professor Flitwick, oh well, we're about to find out," Peter put in, voice full of trepidation. They were, indeed, about to have their first Charms lesson, under Gam's tutelage. Sirius, this time, steered the group towards the front row, lounging into a seat next to Remus' fellow prefect, who he greeted with a dashing smile that was so out of place in the classroom that Lily and Remus, who had taken up seats on either side of the two, snorted with laughter into their hands. James, still standing, muttered something and made a subtle movement with his wand. The chair containing Sandra Barron, one of Lily's good friends, glided backwards into the third row. James grabbed a desk and sauntered up to the now empty slot, where he deposited himself. Lily rolled her eyes.

A solid, rather plain looking wizard who appeared to be in his late thirties was seated at the teacher's desk. He stood to address the class, and Remus got a strong whiff of some sort of fruit scented cologne. Really, thought Remus he could pass for a slightly unkempt Muggle compu-whosis technician, like those ones from the Muggle Studies textbook.

"I am Professor Edward Gam. I'm sure you're all familiar with the workings of this class, but you may find that things are going to be slightly different this year." The students looked around, well, all except for Sirius, who was almost asleep.

"What's your next class?" asked Gam.

"Most of us have Care of Magical Creatures, Professor," Lily answered him; plainly curious as to how this was relevant.

"Ah good. Most convenient." Professor Gam waved his wand at the walls "Mobilidecorum!"

The wall, much to the delight and surprise of the students vanished.

That is, it ceased to exist.

The furnishings of the class began to glide quickly across the lawn. Sirius woke up. "Wha!?" he said, nearly falling off his chair before Savannah grabbed him.

"Brilliantly witty remark, Black," she said with a sarcastic grin. What was left of the classroom parked itself just outside the forest. Several students, including Peter, fell from their chairs at the jolt.

Edward Gam had the class's undivided attention.

That was saying something.

The plain-looking wizard drew a rectangle in the air behind him, and a blackboard materialized. "Classes will be held here for the remainder of the year. Now then, are there any questions?"

Every hand shot up into the air.

An hour later the four boys stood on the lawn where they had Care of Magical Creatures, a class, they regretted deeply, that was shared with the Slytherins.

"Oh look, it's the master of fun himself," Remus sighed, as Severus Snape strode towards the class, a particularly nasty expression on his face, and his some-time companion, Davie Gudgeon, at his side.

"Greasy little git. I'll get him one of these days..." Sirius growled.

That was about the same time as a massive form blotted out the sun.

"I love first days...teachers are always trying to outdo each other," James smiled, looking up. "Wonder what Kettleburn's got for us this year?" An enormous saurian landed in front of them, its great leathery wings beating slowly.

"Um...AhhAH!" James said, as though this response was the only proper one. Remus, however, could barely contain his happiness.

"That is," he said, voice quivering "an adult Norwegian Ridgeback."

"Right you are, Remus!" came a jovial voice from the dragon's back. An elderly, one-armed, tall wizard in purple robes jumped down in front of the class, a broad smile, much like Remus', on his face. The rest of the class had moved back at least ten feet, and Severus was nowhere to be seen.

"So, to get right down to the lesson, I'll need a few volunteers." Kettleburn said, his gray eyes twinkling. Remus' hand shot up, as did Lily's. Sirius, who saw this, smirked and kicked James' leg none too gently, which caused James to raise his hand, though he seemed to be exerting considerable determination to keep it there.

"Very good then, very good. So, James and Lily, I think, approach Draelah here from her left. No, not so quickly James, or you'll-" James, who had been forcing himself forward, as though to get the introduction over with as quickly as possible, lept back as a bolt of fire shot from the dragon's mouth.

"That was a warning shot," Kettleburn said, addressing the class. "You don't want to spook a dragon."

"Warning shot my padded foot," Remus heard Sirius growl. "If he hadn't jumped we'd all be having roast venison for dinner."

"Now, James, she's perfectly alright, you two, walk up to her slowly, and put out your hands. Remus, can I ask you to fetch that bag for me?" he pointed at a large brown sack that smelled of pickling solution. Remus hefted it (the bag was disturbingly squishy) and dragged it towards the dragon, which was now glaring reproachfully at James. Kettleburn opened the sack, letting loose a horrible stench. "Thank you Remus, would you be so helpful as to hand James and Lily each one of these pickled goose hearts?"

Remus blinked.

Sirius spoke.

"Excuse me. I thought you just said he should hand Lily and James each a pickled goose heart. You do understand that's disgusting, don't you?"

"Professor, aren't pickled goose hearts a major ingredient in a Deflagrating Solution?" came Severus' oily voice from the back of the class.

Professor Kettleburn smiled gently. "Sometimes, Sirius, we must swallow our pride and do what must be done. Fairly frequently, in fact. And Severus, I must admit that I am not familiar with the ingredients of a deflagrating solution. Thank you, Remus, take one yourself, and Sirius?" Sirius looked apprehensive "Why don't you come up here yourself, and help us."

With a look of complete and total repulsion, Sirius stepped forward, took a goose heart and stepped up to the dragon's great, scaly nose, hands held out in front of him. Remus smiled as Draelah sniffed his friends loudly, and then rubbed her snout up against Sirius, who recoiled, but really seemed rather pleased, and even tentatively patted the great saurian. This seemed to release the rest of the class from their petrified state. By the end of the lesson they had each, including, Remus noted with contempt, Severus, presented Draelah with a goose heart. It was their last, and, to Remus' mind, most entertaining class of the day, so the class was in general high spirits as they began to move back towards the castle.

"Say, Remus," Kettleburn said brightly "Care to help me get Draelah here back to her den? They don't really care to fly very much after a feeding, even one as light as this...can I bribe you? Twenty points to Gryffindor if you..." he trailed off, smiling. Remus looked to his friends.

"Go on," James said with a sigh. "I've got detention anyway".

"Yeah," growled Sirius "Me too".

"Go on, we all know you fancy the scaly brute, and besides, it'll balance out the points I'm sure these two're about to lose." Peter gave a humorless laugh. James hadn't been paying attention, and was already shuffling off, but Sirius shook his head at Peter, gave an exaggerated sigh of commiseration to Remus and then walked away to join James. Remus turned back to Professor Kettleburn.

"Looks like I'm available, then." He said with a grin.

"So glad you could free yourself from the pressing obligations of mischief-making to help an old man," Kettleburn said, returning the smile as they walked up to Draelah. "Easy now, girl. C'mon, we're going home." He turned to Remus. "Would you like to perform the Bridling charm?" This was, apparently, exactly what Remus wanted, and with an expression of mixed honor and excitement he knew made him look like he was possessed by a third-year on his first trip to Hogsmeade, he took his wand and reverently tapped Draelah's armored jaw.

"Belleropha."

A golden bridle materialized on the dragon. Remus gave a sigh of relief. He knew the charm required more or less force depending upon the creature, and he hadn't been sure if he had got it right.

"Very good Remus! That was excellent, though, if she were, say, a Chinese Fireball, your tap wouldn't have done much." It was a good thing, Remus had always thought, that Kettleburn's sense of humor extended to himself, his tendency towards exuberance could be misconstrued as condescension. Kettleburn took the golden reins gently in his one remaining hand, gave Remus the few supplies (including the now-empty bag, which had not lost any of its stench) and led the two of them, dragon and werewolf, towards the forest. "What'd you think? Did I hit that magic mixture of impressive and informative?" he said with a wink. Any other teacher would have to be a fool to expect an honest answer to that one. Remus reflected. Kettleburn, though, was another story. The elderly man had never wavered in his kindliness and energetic nature around those he held in high esteem, but could be harsh on anyone who crossed him. Despite this, he was not oblivious to the disinterest most students had for his class. Remus, of course, loved it, and had been known to sit in on other class's lessons when James and Sirius were (as was so often the case) occupied with detentions. No, Kettleburn was anything but naïve, Remus thought with an inward smile.

"Best entrance a teacher's given all day...though Gam-" Kettleburn opened his mouth, about to say 'professor Gam' and hut it. It was a disagreement they'd often had. Remus insisted on referring to teachers by their titles only if he had developed some sort of respect for them, and Kettleburn had long since been disillusioned about his own ability to change this slightly rude habit. "Gam relocated our classroom onto the grounds...that was, as Sirius would say if he were here, 'ruddy brilliant'. Oh. We had Professor Sanguire for potions today...she's..."

"Intimidating?" Kettleburn finished with a grin.

"Yeah...and...well, you know how Professor McGonagall can..."he kept trailing off. He'd known Professor Kettleburn since his second year here, when the one-armed wizard had caught Remus trying to net a Red Cap in the lake, and went so far as to consider him a friend (which meant something, in Remus' book) but that didn't change the fact that Professor Kettleburn was...well, a professor. There were some things, like other teachers, that it was hard to talk to teachers about. Fortunately, Kettleburn saved him the trouble.

"Silence a class with a glance? Even one that combines your friends, Sirius and James? I have long held great respect for that ability."

Remus was relieved. "Yeah, Professor Sanguire...she has...a very commanding aura."

Kettleburn chuckled kindly. "Yes, I wouldn't cross her, if I were you, Remus" something about his eyes hinted that there was more of a reason for this than shared personality traits with a transfiguration teacher, but Kettleburn wasn't letting on.

They were now fairly deep in the forbidden forest, so deep, in fact, that it might as well have been nighttime for all the light that got through the treetops. They had no troubles, however. Draelah and Remus could navigate much better in the dark than any human, and Professor Kettleburn practically lived there. The usual sounds of the forest were present, but a bit softer than usual. It seemed that very few residents of even this tough neighborhood wanted to cross a dragon.

"I remember, Remus," Kettleburn said, a reminiscent expression appearing on his scared, age-wizened face, "a time not so long ago when the best student in my class was a girl named Somina. She brought real distinction to her house, but...well, she was very selective about her friends. Kept company almost exclusively with a quiet foreign boy. Name of Vladimir Harkenov. In fact, when you were in first year, before I really knew who you were, I'd had my concerns that you might turn out like her, Remus...you were so quiet...of course, I see now, your friends more than compensate...Truly brilliant girl, Somina, capable of passing both Professor Murdoch's and my own NEWT classes. Rare combination of talents...especially these days...Oh, I'm sorry Remus, Professor Murdock used to be the potions master here. Maybe Professor Sanguire will train the students up a bit...stop them from trying to show off their potions knowledge to cover their nervousness around animals."
Something clicked into place. Professor Kettleburn, already high in Remus' estimation, rose even further. He had just done the one thing that got the instant respect of every member of his group. He had insulted Severus Snape. True, he had been rambling about something that seemed rather random at the time, but he had insulted Snape nonetheless.

They walked on, talking about the lesson plan for that year (they were to learn about a few more dragon species, though Draelah would probably be the only one they actually got to meet up close-"thought I might teach you all to ride her,"-how to care for knarls, krups, hippogriffs and a few other highly interesting animals that Remus was certain James, Sirius and Peter would find alarming.) Until they arrived at a massive clearing, which contained several enormous boulders. "Here we are, Remus, would you be so kind as to remove the bridle while I hold her steady?"

Remus, who was really rather touched at receiving this sort of trust around such an impressive beast, tapped the bridle.

"Iobates."

The golden bridle vanished, and Draelah heaved herself onto a sunny rock and lay down. "Very nice charm, Remus, take another ten points."

"Thank you Professor. I'm...well, its very interesting to get to see all this," his voice trembled very slightly.

Professor Kettleburn said nothing, but Remus thought he noticed some watering in his teacher's eye.

Once back in the castle, Remus walked slowly through Gryffindor common room. The setting sun cast a lazy shadow across the tower and was mirrored in the general mood. A few seventh years sat by the window, looking out onto the violet fall sky. Some of the first years were talking excitedly amongst themselves, comparing stories about their first day of school, homework forgotten on a table in front of them-"Aiden, you were supposed to add the gnats' eyes, not the bats eyes."

"Yeah, well, couldn't find the gnats' eyes, could I...couldn't see 'em. So I figured, hey, they sound similar..."- Savannah, Sandra and Lily were doing their homework, and some third years were catching up on a summer's worth of gossip. Once in the dormitory, Remus walked straight to James' trunk, and knelt in front of it, so that he was on eye-level with the lion's-head lock.

"Open up. Its Moony." The lion opened its mouth, releasing the top of the trunk, which opened. He sorted through the various clothes and books until he found what he was looking for. A silky, silvery cloth that seemed to be reflecting light from an unseen source.

James' Invisibility Cloak.

Remus picked it up, the soft fabric pleasant to the touch, and slipped it on. He looked out the drapes onto the grounds. A cool breeze blew in, the chill of night caressing him. The sun had set. He was in his element. Remus Lupin moved soundlessly, though there was no one in the dormitory to hear him, across the room. Silent as a ghost, he moved down the boy's staircase and through the common room. He slipped, invisible and completely quiet, behind Lily's friends, who were still doing their homework. Actually, they probably wouldn't have noticed me even if I weren't wearing this cloak, if I didn't want them to... he thought, with an internal chuckle. Moony slunk past the first years, which were now discussing their teachers.

"Did you see the way she glared at him? I swear, her eyes are like ice." The one who'd mixed up gnat and bat's eyes said, in fervent tones.

"She's not bad looking, though. Pretty young, too," his friend chipped in, but this just made a few of them shiver. "And the way McGorganal turned that desk into an iguana? Don't see that kind of thing every day, do you?" Remus had to stifle a laugh. "McGonagal, honestly Marv, I can just see you come exam time 'what d'ya mean, transfigure?' " This got a laugh out of the whole group, including Marv.

"Who was that man who came into Potions, babbling about corrosives?" Aiden asked. "Not sure. He wanted something about a battering ram, though...maybe he's that caretaker they warned us about..." Marv put in.

"Battering ram...oy, Marv, do you ever listen to anything? He was talking about a battery," a third boy said.

"Yeah, well, what's a battery then?" Remus was now forced into leaning (still invisible) against a chair, he was laughing so hard.

"Its a little tube that you use to give power to stuff... it's a Muggle thing. He was a bit odd though...wonder what he needed it for. Electronics don't work on Hogwarts grounds." Remus realized now whom they must be talking about. His Muggle studies teacher, Professor Perkins, had a habit of losing things around the castle, and walking in on classes while looking for them. He was a kindly man, but Remus had his suspicions that he was going a bit mad. Still, entertaining as they were, he couldn't spend the night listening to the first years. So, composing himself, he glided away, as silent as he had come. He waited near the portrait hole for someone to open it (ultimately, it was Sandra) and slipped out. He took a deep breath. Cool night air washed into his lungs. Moony loved the night, it was empowering. Here he was truly himself. His dark design lay before him, the light and warmth of Gryffindor Common Room behind him. Happy as he was, he felt a pang as he stepped forward again, wishing Sirius, James and Peter could be with him (he hadn't seen Peter since he took the dragon into the forest.) He walked through the corridors quickly and silently, his mind opened. He could hear all that moved around him. The sounds of people talking in the common room faded slowly into the distance, and were replaced by the relative silence of the castle at night. Not for the first time, he experienced the origins of the expression 'stone cold'; the floors retained none of the day's heat. Once down in the dungeons, he took a right turn, in what he thought was the direction of Slytherin house. Sirius still had the map, so he couldn't consult it. Soon enough, though his hunch was validated, as he saw a female shape move across the hallway in front of him. He broke into his careful run, feet bending fluidly to keep his silence. He came to a quiet stop when the girl turned. It was Bellatrix. She too was slinking along the corridor silently, though perfectly visible. It's easy to see what everyone finds so attractive, physically, he reflected. In fact, if I didn't know her, I'd probably feel similarly...but if they knew what her mind is like...if they knew how her black heart worked...he smiled slightly at his own pun. Bellatrix Black was, according to popular opinion, quite attractive, but Remus didn't really think of people in that way. It was, perhaps, part of his less-than-trusting nature to withhold judgment on appearances until he could get to know people. And know Bellatrix he did. All too well.

She stopped. He stopped. Her ears twitched. Did I make a sound? She was looking around, and then, suddenly, staring right at him; her cold, dark eyes were obsidian, hard, unforgiving...and there was something deathly metallic in them. She was glaring right through him, those eyes, so totally devoid of kindness, piercing through the air like black daggers. She turned away, and he realized he had been holding his breath. Now he exhaled-totally silently, he hoped. She glared around, and then, seemingly satisfied, she continued her graceful glide down the hallway. Remus moved with her, now even more conscious of the motions he put his feet through. They came to another stop, but from her demeanor he gathered that they had arrived at their intended destination. His ears told him they were there, his acute hearing conveying the voices of the Slytherins in their common room. He saw, however, no portrait or tapestry.

"Umbra," came Bellatrix's silky tones. The wall slid open. His first thought Guess that's the password. Was immediately followed by hey, brilliant deduction, Moony, you really think so?

The Slytherin's common room was, he thought, not really terribly different from his own. There were no windows, and the color theme was emerald and silver, not crimson and gold, but otherwise it wasn't so alien. The fireplace was set with designs of serpents, but it was blazing, and several first years were sitting around it, talking excitedly ("so then the moron uses bats eyes!"). Bellatrix, standing beside him, looked at them with much the same expression Sirius had worn when told to hold the pickled goose heart. Bella moved forward, and as she walked in front of him, he caught the scent from her hair, which was alarmingly reminiscent of fresh blood. Snape sat alone in a chair by the fire, pulled far enough away from the first years that he gave no illusion of camaraderie with them. Gudgeon, Mulciber and Lestrange were seated around a table, laughing loudly about something. Much to Remus surprise, and annoyance, the obsidian shards that were Bellatrix's eyes softened when she saw Snivellus. Still, she passed him by, walking to a table where some of her fellow forth years were stirring something in a cauldron. Remus recognized one of them, a brown-haired, shorter girl as Derra O'Reilly. He shook himself a bit, and moved, still silently, over to the table where Lestrange sat.

"So then I says to 'im, 'Yeh ken keep yer filthy dung bombs. I'm not paying no fifteen sickles for 'em, no matter 'ow much yeh've improved 'em. Go scrounge that there quill, yeh 'opeless, good fer nothing 'ustler.' So 'e turns around to pick up the quill, the theivin' cheapskate, and I nicks 'is dung bombs!" At this point in the horrible story, Davie Gudgeon produced a sack that smelled strongly of dung bombs, but was glowing bright blue. Across the bag was scrawled, in ruby letters, the laughably ill-judged slogan: Dung's Dung . Moony had to suppress a chuckle. It must've come from the school's resident black-market dealer, a fifth year in Ravenclaw, Mundungus Fletcher. Dung, as some called him, always had the answers to a test before it was administered, the right self-stirring cauldrons, and any number of modified joke products. He could often be heard saying with pride that the list of Items Banned On School Grounds functioned as a mark-up of his inventory. He and his friends rather liked Mundungus, who, in turn, had admiration for their inventiveness and, as he put it 'Realistic attitude 'bout rules 'n regulations.' So hearing someone gloating about doing him a wrong turn, especially someone who's taste was poor enough that they'd hang around Severus, incensed him. He drew a deep, silent breath and moved slowly around the table so that he was positioned right next to the offensive little-actually, Gudgeon wasn't really all that little, he was almost as tall as Remus.

"Good one, Gudgeon, I can't imagine how a bumbling fool like that ever got into Ravenclaw, for my own part." Came Lestrange's harsh voice.

"I don't know, 'Dolph, He's gotta be getting past the professors somehow...that'd require some brains," growled Mulciber. So, Lestrange's name is Dolph...weird.

"Well, perhaps. Speaking such, your impression of the Potions teacher? I take it she has not taught here before." Lestrange's voice had a sharp, ringing quality to, but it betrayed a hint of nervousness when he mentioned Professor Sanguire.

"She's alright, 'Dolph...sharp as a sword, not bad looking either..."

"I for one, don't trust her yet," came Severus' oily voice from his chair by the fire. He had not turned to face them.

"Well I really didn't ask if you trusted her yet, did I?" Lestrange's cruel words cut across the room like javelins. Everyone fell silent. A few first years whispered excitedly. Snape still did not turn around to face Lestrange.

"No, Rodolphus," so that's his name. Dolph's just an abbreviation. "You did not ask me. Nor did I expect you to. I am simply stating my opinion on a matter which is largely relevant to both our lives." Snape's words were purely virulent. Bellatrix, Remus noticed, was looking mildly conflicted. Gudgeon opened his bag, withdrawing a blue, glowing dung bomb, which he began to hold out to Lestrange. Sirius, forgive me for what I am about to prevent. Remus thought, and with one fluid motion, smashed the bomb that had been chosen for Snape's head right into Davie's face. Right then, Mundungus, consider yourself avenged. Several Slytherins laughed, and Mulciber seemed to be having a very hard time containing himself. Gudgeon looked around stupidly, took another dung bomb, and flung it at O'Reilly. She dodged, and waved her wand at it, causing it to fly back. Soon the air was thick with objects of varying degrees of stickiness. Remus saw potential disaster if one hit the cloak and once the Slytherins are through with me, Prongs'll have my pelt for getting it dirty. So he stepped quietly away, ducking down into one of the now-vacant high backed chairs by the fire. Well, now, that was stupid. He thought. What if someone sits on me? On the other hand, they're all occupied with that stupid fight...don't they have a prefect? Not he said with an internal chortle that that'd necessarily help all that much, but McGonagall would kill us if we ever did anything like this...Bellatrix interrupted his thoughts for the third time that night, this time by sliding over to the chair area, seemingly disgusted. She chose the chair nearest the one where Severus was sitting, and Remus again saw the edge taken off her razor eyes.

"Simply disgusting," hissed Snape.

"I agree...immature fools. What I did to deserve this, I'll never know," Bellatrix answered, voice full of malice.

Well, do you want the list alphabetically, or in grievousness of misdemeanor? Thought Remus.

"We are supposed to be examples of purity...cunning, patience...these people are behaving like...Gryffindors," Snape spat the word. Remus bristled. If he had had hackles that night, he would have raised them.

"Patience, yes, a true virtue of our house," Somehow, though her words were pompous, the sheer hatred and coldness of her tone prevented her from coming across as such. "But may I ask you something, Severus?"

"That entirely depends on what it is," the oily voice responded.

"Why do you hate the Gryffindors so? I certainly don't mean to say they don't deserve it. I can't stand them myself...courage and chivalry...foolishness if you ask me."

Snape paused. Remus was a little surprised. He'd expected a flippant answer, or at the very most, a thoughtless one. Eventually, Severus spoke again.

"I am of like mind, Bella. They pride themselves on attributes that are detriments, not virtues. However, it is less the house that I despise as it is your cousin and his friends," Remus wasn't surprised at all by this. They certainly gave the oily, simpering fool reason to hate them. "Black and Potter disgust me. Always strutting around this school like they own the place. Fools. And hypocrites too. They say they're so valiant, but they're as cruel as any of us. More so, sometimes. Potter's arrogant, stultified. He uses others as a Muggle does a trampoline, putting them down just to elevate himself." Now Remus was angry. He knew James could be arrogant, but James was a dominant person, it was his job to be that way, his role in the group. He certainly never did anything quite like that. Now, Peter, perhaps, Remus could see as being described that way, if any of his friends could be, but not James. "And your cousin is no better. I do not mean any offense, but take it if you will."

"I take no offense at that attitude. I hate my cousin. He's a disgrace to the family. Worse than that blood-traitor, goalless fool of a sister Andromeda. She's dating a Hufflepuff," spat Bellatrix, though the tension in her voice relaxed a little at that. "I mean, at least those morons have some patience, they're a little better than Gryffindors, but still...they're only patient because they don't have a clue what to do unless someone tells them."

"Really, Bella, I'm glad you've got some sense." Hissed Snape, voice dripping with disgust. But Remus could tell he was being earnest.

"Mm, looks like the fighting's died down...guess that's my cue. Have a goodnight, Severus," She turned, now facing Remus again. And then she looked him right in the eyes. Those cold, black daggers impaled his skull again.

"And anyone else who may be listening." She said, coolly, and then slipped away.

Remus sat there. Petrified. How on earth did she do that? I've been quiet as a...well, quiet as a wolf! I think this is my cue. And he got up and walked over to the door, or lack thereof. Fortunately for him, Gudgeon had chosen that moment to storm out of the room in a fit of rage, still covered in blue dung, so Moony was able to slip out of the dungeon quickly and conveniently. The corridors smelled of autumn night, and the chill air washed over him, breaking against his lungs like waves. He ran, in total silence, back to Gryffindor tower, slowing down only as he realized that no one was likely to be opening the portrait hole at this hour. Right then. That's depressing. I'll have to sleep out here again, and it's my first day back, too...He sighed, audibly. After all, his problem was that there wasn't anyone around.

"Cheer up, mate," came a voice from the shadows. Sirius Black was getting up from the ground.

"You've earned your name. Didn't hear you in the slightest," Moony replied, voice barely within decibel range.

"Well, goes to show, doesn't it. Name the situation, and I've got it under control."

"Savannah Michaels."

"Low blow, Loup Garou, low blow," He turned to the portrait, which had, of course, opened. "After you, Hawley Griffin."

"So I'm the one who reads too many Muggle books?"