Of Wolf and Wizard

Over the next week, Remus discovered that while being nicer to Sirius Black was in theory a very good idea, in practise it was not an easy thing to accomplish. For one thing, it was very difficult to be nice to someone when they seemed to enjoy pretending you didn't exist, which was certainly the case in this instance. And for another thing, you couldn't exactly go out of your way to approach the person in question when your two best friends were constantly snickering at him behind his back, and would probably snicker at you too if you dared to speak to him.

And although Remus had also made up his mind to put a stop to James and Peter's malicious attitudes toward Sirius, he found that this too was easier said than done, since James Potter was decidedly not a person who let other people tell him what to do. So Remus simply settled for keeping an eye on them - especially James - and reasoning that through his watchfulness he was effectively preventing another confrontation like the one they'd had on Sunday over the letter.

Meanwhile, as the week passed by in a steady stream of lessons and homework, Remus' strength returned to normal. He watched the moon wane a little bit more each night, and during the day he followed his fellow Gryffindors from lesson to lesson as though the moon made as little difference to him as it did to the rest of them. And nobody, he realized, was the wiser. Almost no one even realized he'd been gone, and those who did just thought that he'd been stuck in the hospital wing for a few days. He'd still got all his homework done, after all, and he did just as well during the practical lessons as any of his classmates.

Despite the problem he'd had getting back to school after his transformation (those hellish hours that he'd privately dubbed The Wand Incident), he decided that on the whole, the situation was quite manageable. He told his parents so in his next owl, and he even said the same to Professor McGonagall when she cornered him after Transfiguration on Monday.

"You couldn't find your wand?" she repeated in a low, alarmed voice when he told her what had happened.

"But it was fine, Professor," he assured her, a proud calm in his voice that he certainly hadn't felt at the time. "I just waited for Madam Pomfrey to come and get me."

She gave him a slightly skeptical look, which made him suspect that she'd heard a somewhat more dramatic (and possibly more accurate) account of events from the Healer. But he looked at her impassively, standing up for his own version, till she finally gave him a smile, shook her head, and sent him on his way.

It wasn't until Saturday afternoon, when he was copying James' notes from the Astronomy lesson he'd missed, that Remus remembered there was one teacher besides McGonagall who knew exactly where he'd been.

"It's too bad you missed the first full moon lesson," said James without even a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "There were no clouds, and everything looks so cool when it's all lit up like that...."

"I bet it does," said Remus, and then made a show of concentrating on his notes so that James would be quiet.

When the three boys left the common room to go up to the Astronomy Tower that night, Remus' stomach twisted itself into a complicated series of knots. He saw in his mind, as clearly as if it had just happened, Professor Sinistra's face when he had told her: laughing first, then doubting, then full of fear. He knew that she'd been planning to ask Professor Dumbledore to confirm Remus' lycanthropic identity - but what had she said to him? Had she questioned the headmaster's motives, or even contested Remus' admittance? Did she understand the importance of keeping this whole ordeal a secret?

As they climbed the last staircase to the tower, James tried to revive the two-week-old joke about Remus having a crush on their Astronomy teacher. But neither Peter nor Remus was in the mood for it, so he gave up - though not without a dramatic sigh and a roll of his eyes. Peter tapped Remus lightly on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" he said quietly. Remus didn't trust himself to speak, so he merely smiled and nodded.

As that night's lesson began, Remus vowed to watch Professor Sinistra the entire time - not out of romantic interest, as James might have said, but just to make sure that she didn't accidentally give something away. All it would take was a careless word or a cold look in his direction, and the other students might begin to suspect something.

He was quite certain that he could prevent such things from happening if he could only keep an eye on her... but after perhaps thirty seconds of doing so, he realized that by watching her so keenly he was only drawing more of her attention to himself. And naturally, the more she paid attention to him, the more she would think about him. And the more she thought about him, the more likely she was to think about why he'd missed last week's lesson. And the more she thought about that, the more likely she was to say something about it out loud.

After that realization, Remus didn't look at Professor Sinistra at all. His eyes went right from his telescope to his parchment and back again, never pausing for longer than it took to dip his quill in its inkwell.

At least, that was how it went for the first half of the lesson. After an agonizing length of time during which Remus wondered more and more fiercely what Sinistra might be thinking, he finally allowed himself to glance up at her, if only to calm his slowly fraying nerves. It was the smallest of glances - up and down again in the blink of an eye - but it did its job. She was lecturing with her face turned toward the stars, and in her moonlit profile he could see no trace of anything suggesting fear. Relieved, Remus went back to the taking of notes, and even continued glancing up at her from time to time.

After a few of these glances, however, he happened to meet her eyes. His breath caught in his throat and Sinistra paused mid-sentence, as though she'd lost track of what she was about to say. But it was only momentary. She recovered quickly and kept lecturing, but when Remus hunched diligently over his notes again, his feeling of relief had vanished. Had that been panic he'd seen in her eyes, or was it something else - something worse? Terror?

Driving the thought from his mind, Remus forced himself to continue writing. He didn't look at her again for the rest of the lesson.

When Professor Sinistra dismissed the tired group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws at the end of the lesson, Remus still refused to look up; after all, catching her eye at the end of the lesson might give her an excuse to corner him afterwards. He packed his things as quickly as possible, ignoring the snide voice of James Potter beside him as best he could.

"I've never seen anyone that dedicated to taking notes, Remus," said James, just quietly enough that the teacher wouldn't hear.

"Mm," said Remus.

"Mustn't miss a word she says, must we?" he continued. Remus gave him a dark look as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed quickly for the stairs.

James, with Peter close on his heels, caught up with Remus about halfway down the first flight of stairs. "Had a lovers' spat, have you?" he said. "Did she find out that you were going with McGonagall as well? Did--"

"Will you bloody well shut up?"

Remus blinked. Even though he'd meant to say the words, it was Peter who said them first. And evidently James was just as surprised at this as Remus was - both boys stopped to stare at Peter, causing the latter to go slightly red in the face.

"I mean, er," Peter faltered, "I mean, it's not funny anymore, okay?"

James looked to Remus for confirmation of this statement; Remus quickly averted his eyes. With an indignant shrug of his shoulders, James silently started down the stairs again, not bothering to wait for the other two as he disappeared from view.

Remus and Peter exchanged a look; no words were spoken, but they silently agreed not to go after James. But as soon as they reached the Gryffindor common room, Remus realized that this was probably the worst decision they could have made.

The scene that greeted them when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open was enough to make Remus' jaw drop - and drop it certainly did. Standing in the middle of the common room floor was James Potter with his wand raised, an odd mixture of anger and confusion etched on his face. Gathered behind and around him was a small percentage of the Gryffindor House population, some still wide awake but most bleary-eyed and in pyjamas. In front of James stood Sirius Black, tears streaming down his face as he bawled loudly enough to wake the dead.

One girl, a tired-looking fourth year whom Remus vaguely recognized from around the common room, was patting Sirius' back in a valiant effort to calm him, but he would have none of it. He just continued wailing, emitting nonsense syllables that struck Remus as deeply and profoundly weird.

"What did you do to him?" Remus asked, trying to keep his voice level as he addressed James.

But before James could gather his wits enough to reply, the fourth year girl did it for him. "Crybaby Curse," she explained irritably, raising her voice so that she could be heard above the effects of said curse. "Will someone with a wand please come and fix this?" she said, and Remus guessed that she'd left hers upstairs.

"I meant to do his ears," said James, who had the grace to look slightly guilty as he turned toward Remus and Peter.

Remus didn't say anything. He simply couldn't find the words to do justice to the situation - but on the other hand, he was certainly glad that Sirius' tears were artificial. He couldn't begin to imagine what sort of horrible thing James would have had to do in order to prompt Sirius to cry like that for real.

Another older girl barreled down the stairs and into the common room, taking the scene in with one swift glance about the room. "Let me through, I'm a prefect," she announced, and the group parted to make way for her. "Finite incantatum," she yelled, aiming her wand, and Sirius instantly stopped crying.

He swayed on his feet a little bit, as if he'd just had the wind knocked out of him. Remus himself had never cried so hard for so long, but he could still imagine that it must have taken a lot of energy to do so. No wonder Sirius looked as though he were about to faint.

"Are you all right?" said the prefect, lowering her voice as she prodded the bewildered boy toward one of the couches. Sirius let out a whimper, and Remus saw him throw a tired glance at the crowd that was still gathered awkwardly around James Potter.

The prefect caught the glance as well and turned her attention toward the other students. "Everyone up to bed now," she barked. "Except for you, Potter," she added, intercepting the boy in question just as he was about to escape up the stairs. Remus, who had been heading quietly for the boys' staircase as well, stopped in his tracks. He wasn't the only one, either - Peter Pettigrew, Danny Liang, and Andy Hayden all paused to see what would happen. Luckily for all of them, the prefect barely seemed to notice their presence.

"Potter, that's twenty points from Gryffindor. Don't think I haven't heard about this little war you two have got going on. It's stopping tonight, do you hear me? If I catch either of you so much thinking about using one more curse..."

"But Miranda," said James in a sugary-sweet voice, "how can you tell if we're thinking about it?"

"I got full marks in Divination for the past two years," she replied in a dangerous tone. James' face went pale, and he was quiet as she turned back to Sirius. "Do you need anything? A glass of water? You look a little out of sorts."

Sirius, who had regained some of his usual composure while listening to Miranda's exchange with James, shook his head. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just leave me alone."

A faintly hurt look flitted across Miranda's face at these words, and she paused. "Well then," she said. "Well then. Just... get some rest. And the rest of you, I thought I told you to go to bed?"

The first year boys didn't waste another minute; led by James, they bounded up the stairs and retreated into the safety of their room. As he was the last one in, Remus closed the door behind them. Looking around the room, he found that each boy had silently headed for his own bed, and everyone was avoiding everyone else's eyes.

Remus felt it in the air just as sharply as he felt it within his own mind: nobody knew how to react to what had just happened. Should they congratulate James on a good joke? Should they chastise him as Miranda had done in the common room? Was it a funny thing that had just happened, or had James crossed the line? Even James himself didn't seem sure.

But Remus knew. James certainly had crossed the line, and if it was anyone's fault, it was Remus' own. He'd been so caught up in avoiding Professor Sinistra after their lesson that he'd completely forgot to keep a watchful eye on James - and look what had happened! He frowned to himself, feeling suddenly tired and inexplicably heavy. But something had to be done.

Without a definite plan or even a definite reason in mind, Remus quietly left the dormitory and headed back down to the common room. Just as he'd expected, it was empty except for the lone figure of Sirius Black. And that figure was crouched in front of the fireplace... in which a head was resting.

Creeping silently down the last few stairs, Remus peered closer: it was a female head, somewhat familiar, with brown hair that hung below her shoulders. He had an immediate hunch as to who it might be, but for the time being he didn't say anything, lest either party should suspect him of eavesdropping. Which he really wasn't. He was just... listening.

"...bloody Gryffindors," Sirius was fuming, just loudly enough for Remus to hear. "He always..." And the rest of his words faded into the fireplace; Remus leaned closer, but it didn't make much of a difference. Sirius continued talking in low tones, occasionally making a rather violent gesture to illustrate whatever point he was making, and the head in the fireplace nodded sympathetically.

The conversation between Sirius and the head lasted for not much more than a minute or two, at which point the head smiled an encouraging sort of smile, said something to him, and then vanished. Sirius sat back on his heels, looking rather cross.

Remus wondered whether he should go back upstairs and come down again, so he could pretend that he hadn't seen the head in the fireplace. But before he could decide, Sirius had already twisted around and seen him at the foot of the staircase. "Go on, Loopy," he said, not even bothering to get up, "just gloat and get it over with."

"I didn't want to gloat," said Remus quickly, making his way across the small stretch of floor toward the other boy, who didn't look at all convinced. "I just wanted to apologize--"

"Ohh," Sirius interrupted him. "Is that how it's always going to work, then? Potter throws a curse, and you apologize for him? If you--"

"No, no!" said Remus. "That's not it at all..."

"Then what?" With this, Sirius finally got up and faced Remus directly.

"Well if you'd let me finish then you'd find out, wouldn't you?"

Sirius folded his arms, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"I wanted to apologize for me," continued Remus, lowering his voice considerably. "I meant to keep James from bothering you again, but I sort of forgot tonight, and...." He trailed off, uncertain of how to complete the thought.

Sirius, meanwhile, looked distinctly confused. "Why in Merlin's name would you want to do that?"

Remus frowned. He thought it should have been rather obvious. "Well, he's been a bit stupid to you, hasn't he?"

"A bit stupid?"

"A lot stupid," Remus corrected himself with a smile. To his surprise, Sirius smiled back. Well, sort of. His expression wasn't so much a smile as it was the lifting of a scowl. Encouraged, Remus continued: "And I think it's sort of mean, you know? Throwing hexes all the time. Even though you throw them back," he added as an afterthought.

Sirius' not-scowl turned into a full-fledged grin. "I certainly do," he said proudly.

"Is that what she's been teaching you? Hexes and jinxes and things?" said Remus - only to realize a second later that he shouldn't have said that.

Sirius' grin vanished, replaced by an uncomfortably suspicious look. "Who's teaching me what?" he said.

"Erm," faltered Remus.

"Well?"

"Andromeda. Wasn't that her in the fireplace? I saw her on the train, and it said in that letter that James found - it said she was supposed to teach you about the Dark Arts and... er..."

"Look, Lupin," said Sirius, his dark mood returning full force. "Just because Andromeda's in Slytherin doesn't mean she practises the Dark Arts. And just because I'm a Black doesn't mean I want to practise the Dark Arts. Got it?"

"But the letter said--"

"You shouldn't have even read it in the first place!" yelled Sirius.

"I know, but--"

"And for your information, Andromeda's been helping me with Defence Against the Dark Arts. I knew she was right! She told me everyone would think I was a Dark wizard just because I'm a Black. She said the same thing happened to her when she started at school, and you've just gone and proved her right! You're all idiots, the whole lot of you stupid Gryffindors."

With that, Sirius folded his arms again and sank indignantly onto the nearest couch, leaving Remus rather stunned.

"Um," said Remus after a moment. Sirius stared pointedly at the floor. "Um... I didn't say I thought you were a Dark wizard."

Sirius looked at him, an exaggerated expression of martyrdom etched in his every feature. "Of course you didn't say it," he said dramatically. "But you think it. You all do. Potter keeps trying to curse me, and you think I'm practising Dark magic."

"I was just wondering... I mean, because your mum said so in that letter...."

"My mum's an old hag, and you shouldn't ever listen to her," Sirius sniffed.

"A hag?" repeated Remus in amazement.

"Not really," said Sirius quickly, then paused for a moment, a grin spreading over his face again. "But that's what Andromeda's started calling her - not in front of her, of course - and I think it's great."

"Why does she call your mum that?"

"Because my mum doesn't like her new boyfriend. Neither does her mum, come to that. They both think it's just a phase, and she'll dump him soon enough." Sirius directed his grin at Remus. "Her boyfriend's a Mudblood."

Remus' face froze. His parents had always taught him never to use that word, but they'd never told him what you were supposed to do when someone else used it.

Sirius seemed to mistake Remus' silence for surprise, for he laughed and said, "Brilliant, isn't it? A Black and a Mudblood together. I mean, you'd never imagine it. I wish I could've seen the look on Mum's face when Andromeda told her...."

"Are Blacks not supposed to go out with, er, Muggle-borns?" said Remus cautiously.

Sirius stopped cold, looking at Remus as though he'd grown another unicorn horn. "Of course not," he snapped. "Haven't you ever heard of the House of Black?"

Remus shook his head. "Not before Severus said something in Potions that day."

"Snape," mused Sirius loftily. "Idiots, the lot of them, Snapes. That's what Andromeda says. Mum says she used to like his mother, before she went and married some Muggle. But Andromeda says his mum's family were all stupid even before that happened. She says just because his mum was a pureblood doesn't mean she was any good. I think she's right."

"He seems fine to me," Remus ventured, although even as he said the words he wasn't sure that he meant them. He hadn't actually spoken to Severus in over a week; in fact, he'd become almost certain that the other boy was going out of his way to avoid him. He sat on the opposite side of the room in Potions, and he didn't say a word when he passed Remus in the corridors. Remus suspected that it had something to do with him being in Gryffindor and Severus being in Slytherin.

Sirius shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about, Loopy Lupin," he said almost sadly. "Just like Mum."

Remus could only stare at him. In all the eleven and a half years of his life, he'd never heard anyone talk like this. Of course, he'd heard his parents talk about other people who talked like this, but he'd somehow always thought that comparisons of bloodlines was something that only adults did.

Although, now that he stopped to think about it... there had been the day he'd met Severus on the train. Severus had seemed awfully eager to know whether or not Remus' parents could do magic. Did that whole conversation come back to bloodlines too?

After a moment, Remus said slowly, "I didn't mean because he was a... a pureblood or half-blood or whatever. I just meant he didn't seem like a bad person." He paused again. A question had been bothering him ever since he'd heard Sirius say the M-word....

"Sirius, do you not like Muggle-borns?"

The other boy raised his eyebrows, considering. "I like 'em just fine," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. And then he frowned, looking at Remus with an expression bordering on worry. "You're not a Mudblood, are you?" he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to insult you."

Remus found himself oddly irritated at the strange apology; what kind of person would apologize for calling someone a Mudblood and still use the same word while they did it? "No I'm not," he said. "But my mum's parents are Muggles, so don't use that word around me."

For once, Sirius didn't seem to have a response at the ready. "Mm," was all that he said, his forehead creasing as he appeared to think very hard about something.

Remus stood awkwardly in the silence of the room, glancing quickly over to the fireplace, which was now devoid of heads, before he looked back at Sirius. "What?" said Sirius, looking up at him with a cross expression.

"Nothing," said Remus with a sigh. "I've got to go to sleep. A lot of homework to do tomorrow." And while this was neither true nor an acceptable excuse for going to bed, it made Remus feel a lot less awkward about turning away from Sirius Black and heading toward the boys' staircase.

"Oi, Loopy," said Sirius, and Remus swiveled around again, one foot on the bottom stair. Sirius gave him a little smile. "Thanks. For trying to get Pottyhead to leave me alone. Not that it worked... but you know. Thanks anyway."

Remus, who still wasn't sure how he felt about Sirius saying the M-word, only gave him a halfhearted smile in return. "No problem," he said quickly, and ran upstairs.

* * * * *

Through the end of September and the beginning of October, the weather took a turn for the worse. Whereas the population of Hogwarts had enjoyed a nice percentage of bright, sunny days during the first three weeks of term, such days were now a rarity. The students began to stay inside for lunch to avoid the constant rain, and all the chairs in the common room mysteriously began to inch closer and closer to the fireplace.

As the days grew shorter, it seemed that everyone's tempers did as well - and the increasing amount of homework that their teachers gave them didn't help. For his part, Remus would much rather have spent his time wandering around the shores of the lake than writing essays about ghouls and practising the Transfiguration of buttons into paper clips. Of course, the homework wasn't too bad in and of itself, but coupled with being constantly cooped up indoors, it was something of a minor nightmare.

"I hate Sliding Spells," said Peter as he made his quill slide with irregular, rather jerky motions across the floor in front of him.

James, who was sitting on the other side of the couch that the three of them were hogging, didn't even look up from his History of Magic book. "Me too," he said. "They're stupid."

Peter scowled at him, and the quill stopped. "But at least you can do them right," he said.

Remus, who was sitting between them, stared blankly into the common room fireplace, following the dancing flames with his eyes. He'd actually managed to keep up with all of his homework this week - and consequently, he now found himself with absolutely nothing to do. He sighed softly to himself, absently wondering how soon he'd be able to start feeling the effects of the next full moon. It wasn't till the following Saturday night (six days hence), but lunar fatigue always caught him at least a few days early.

"Hey, Remus?" said Peter, and it occurred to Remus that this had been at least the third time that the other boy had said his name.

"Hmm?" he replied.

"D'you think you could help me with this?"

"Oh," said Remus, stretching the lethargy out of his limbs. "Sure. How are you doing the charm?"

He watched as Peter demonstrated. "Ah... you've got to angle your wand up a little more. Remember? Flitwick said the spell has to brush the top of whatever you're aiming at. If you aim right at it, it doesn't work as well."

Remus guided Peter's arm as they went over the charm a few times, and in a little while Peter had got much better at doing it on his own.

"Hey, look at that!" James exclaimed suddenly.

"I know!" said Peter, looking very pleased indeed. "Not bad, right?"

"No, no," said James dismissively, "I mean look at that." He gestured toward the window, where the late afternoon sunlight was shining feebly in. "It's stopped raining! Reckon we could go outside for a bit before dinner?"

Peter's expression wavered between delighted and pensive. "But I've still got to do that History of Magic essay, you know," he said. "It's due tomorrow...."

James just grinned. "So do I. We can wait till later, right? Besides, there's something I've been wanting to show you two."

"What?" said Remus, a little perplexed. Usually James didn't get this excited about anything unless it involved either Quidditch or a nefarious plot of some sort. And since the Quidditch season wasn't due to start for another month, the remaining options were rather limited.

"You'll see," said James. "Come on, let's get our cloaks...."

* * * * *

Even though the rain had stopped for the time being, the squelching ground beneath Remus' feet held more than enough moisture to make up for it. James led them across the nearly-empty grounds, and as they picked their way through the mud, Peter grew increasingly irritated about his friend's resolute silence concerning their destination.

"I bet it isn't anything at all," he accused. "You just wanted me to get my shoes all muddy."

"My shoes are muddy too," James pointed out.

Remus rolled his eyes. He couldn't really have cared less about where they were going, but the fact that James was keeping it secret was annoying him nonetheless. He was just about to voice his opinion on the matter as such, when his eyes caught hold of something a little further off across the grounds. Suddenly, he knew exactly where they were headed.

"The willow tree, James?" he asked quietly.

James turned sharply towards him with a frown on his face. For a moment, Remus was almost sorry that he'd ruined his friend's chance to present it with a grand flourish, as he'd very likely intended to.

"Yeah," he said with a kind of defeat in his voice. "Do you know about it already?"

"I've heard about it," said Remus quickly.

"Oh. From who?"

"You know... just... people have been talking about it." Remus dismissed his own reply with a shrug.

"A willow tree?" said Peter, evidently trying to his best to hide the disappointment in his voice. "What's so great about a tree?"

With Peter's question, some of James' enthusiastic momentum seemed to return. "Oh you'll see, Pete," he said dramatically, flashing a grin at Peter. And as all three of them took off toward the willow, Remus tried to suppress the feeling of nervousness that was beginning to manifest itself in his stomach.

A mere moment later, the tree in question came fully into view, and James led them directly toward it. It was a rather wild-looking thing even in the light of day, with wily, sprawling roots and branches that never seemed to stay quite the same length. As they drew closer to it, Remus could feel James' excitement building.

"We should probably stop," ventured Remus after a moment. The tree's branches, which were already waving threateningly about, looked far too close for comfort.

"Right," said James, slowing to a stop and looking for all the world as though it had been his suggestion to do so. "Now," he said solemnly to Remus, "I'll bet you five Sickles that Pete isn't brave enough to go and touch the trunk."

"Hey!" said Peter. "I am so."

"Wait a minute," said Remus cautiously. "Aren't you at least going to tell him what it does?"

"What what does?" said Peter.

"Scaredy-cat," taunted James.

"The tree," said Remus.

"I'm not scared!" Peter declared, and before anything else could be said, he took off at a sprint toward the willow.

"Wait!"

But Remus' shout came too late. Peter's outstretched hand was within yards of the trunk when a thick tree branch caught him neatly across the chest, flinging him backwards. He landed on his back with a thud that made Remus wince.

Both Remus and James ran instinctively for Peter, who looked absolutely dumbstruck and was trying to prop himself up on his elbows. "You okay?" said James, with worry evident in his voice.

Peter made a rather noncommittal noise at them, but he looked just fine to Remus, if a little winded. Remus threw an accusing glare at James, who caught it.

"I didn't know it was so... violent," said James apologetically. "I just heard it didn't let anyone get close."

As if in reply, a tree branch struck the ground only a few feet away from them, with a whomp sound that made Peter flinch.

"How did you think it'd keep people away?" said Remus angrily. "Drop a note into their hands asking them to turn around?"

"Well, you never know," countered James, but by the pinkish hue that colored his friend's cheeks, Remus could tell that James had already given up the argument.

"Kind of hate you right now, James," Peter pointed out.

"Sorry," mumbled James, turning his sheepish attention back to his injured friend. "Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

Peter considered this for a moment, then decided that yes, he should definitely see if there was anything wrong, because there was something in his back that didn't feel so good.

James (looking more abashed than ever) and Remus helped Peter up off the ground, then slowly, with one of Peter's arms looped around each of the other boys' shoulders, they began to make their way back to the castle. Remus noticed that Peter seemed to be doing a fine job of walking on his own... but he didn't say anything. If Peter was feigning injury to make James feel bad, then who was Remus to stand in his way?

"You're sort of heavy, Pete," said James after a minute or two, and Remus fought to suppress a chuckle.

"Am not," countered Peter automatically. "And besides, you were the one who dared me to go and touch that stupid tree."

"I didn't dare you! I only asked Remus--"

"Same thing!" said Peter. "It was as good as a dare, and you know it."

"It was, you know," Remus put in, shooting James a sidelong look. James glared at him.

They continued toward the castle, but they'd only got a few steps further when a breathless voice reached them: "Hey! Is everything okay over here?"

Three heads turned around; Remus caught sight of an older girl, whom he was sure he'd never seen before, jogging toward them with another figure trailing behind her. "What's it to you?" said James coldly, at the same time as Remus said, "Yup, just fine."

The girl, a tall brunette in Slytherin robes, slowed down as she reached them and surveyed Peter critically. "He doesn't look fine," she said, her eyes shifting suspiciously from Remus to James and back again. "What happened?"

"You're a prefect this year, aren't you?" said James, his expression just as suspicious as hers. "We haven't been doing anything that's against the rules, so you can forget about docking points from Gryffindor."

"For heaven's sake," said the girl with a roll of her eyes. "Prefects do occasionally do other things than dock points, you know. For your information, I just wanted to see if Peter was all right."

"I'm fine," said Peter, though he seemed to be making a point of sounding weak and helpless.

The Slytherin girl looked at him for another moment before addressing James again - but Remus didn't catch what she said. For by that time, the prefect's companion had caught up with her and was surveying the scene for himself. He didn't say anything, but nevertheless, Remus blinked at him in wonder.

The older boy had very dark hair, even blacker than James' (if that was possible), and the palest skin that Remus had ever seen. That combination in itself was enough to catch anyone's attention, but his eyes were what made Remus suspicious. They were so pale a shade of blue that they almost looked white, which gave Remus the uneasy feeling of looking at two tiny dots with no irises at all. And his ears! The one closest to Remus was mostly hidden by the boy's shaggy hair, but from what he could see, he could have sworn that it had a distinctly pointed shape....

Those strange eyes suddenly shifted, locking with Remus' and sending a chill down the younger boy's spine. Remus immediately looked away, trying to pretend that he'd been listening to James' conversation all along.

"...and you are not to go near that tree again," the prefect was saying.

"But there's no rule that says we can't!" protested James.

"There will be after today," said the girl triumphantly. "At least, there will be if I have anything to do with it. It's much too dangerous, and--"

"And speaking of that," James cut in, "I need to take my friend to the hospital wing, so if you could just bugger off?"

"Five points from Gryffindor," she said irritably. "For language."

With that, she turned and strode away. "Come on, Edgar," she said over her shoulder, and the strange-looking boy turned and followed her.

Remus looked after the pair, his brows furrowed, and James gaped. Peter snickered. "What'd she do that for?" said James after a moment, sounding half angry and half mortally wounded.

"For language, Potter," said Peter, still sounding mirthful as he tried to imitate the prefect's voice.

"Mm," grumbled James. "C'mon, let's go."

With that, they began to make their way toward the castle again.

"Did you know them, James?" said Remus after a moment, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah," said the other boy darkly. "Zelda Moore. We know her 'cause her dad's a friend of my mum's. A Slytherin and a prefect - nasty combination, that."

"She's not that bad," said Peter almost cheerfully.

This time, James' glare was directed at Peter. "Sure she isn't, if you fancy her."

Peter went bright red.

"What about the other one?" asked Remus.

"Oh, Montgomery something," said James dismissively.

"Edgar Montgomery," supplied Peter somewhat mournfully.

"Right," said James. "Zelda's boyfriend. She couldn't have picked a weirder one if she tried! He hardly ever talks to anyone, and did you see him? I heard somewhere that he's a vampire, but I'm not sure if that's true...."

And that was exactly what Remus had been waiting to hear.

James continued to prattle on about the rumours he'd heard, but the fact that there were rumours was the only thing that mattered to Remus. After all, rumours meant that it could be true, right? And if there was really a vampire at Hogwarts, then the presence of a werewolf would pale in comparison, wouldn't it? On top of that, he wouldn't be the only Dark creature at school! He'd have someone else who was on his side - someone who knew exactly what it was like to keep a secret like that.

Remus found himself grinning at the thought. He resolved that he would talk to Edgar Montgomery as soon as he could, and find out everything possible about this matter....

"Hey, Remus!" said James, causing Remus to turn his head sharply as his thoughts were yet again interrupted. "You owe me five Sickles, you know."

"What?" said Remus, and then remembered the bet. "Oh. Right. I'll give it to you when we get back upstairs, all right?"

"Not a problem," said James smugly.

"Wait a minute," said Peter slowly. "James, you should be paying Remus!"

"What?" said James. Remus looked back and forth between them, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah!" Peter continued enthusiastically. "You only bet that I wouldn't be brave enough to touch the trunk. You never said anything about whether the tree would let me touch it!"

"But that--!"

"He's right, actually," Remus cut in. "He was brave enough, and that's what you were betting on. So I think I win, don't I?"

"But... but..." James trailed off, unable to think of a suitable argument. In the end, he settled for sulking silently.

Remus exchanged grins with Peter, who looked very happy indeed that he'd finally stumbled upon the chance to prove that he was just as brave as his friends.