All The Young Dudes

“A friend from St Edmund’s,” Remus replied easily. Sirius looked up, and Remus gave 
a very slight nod. Sirius smiled too. Remus cleared his throat and returned to his breakfast, 
“Marc Bolan died.” 

“Oh no!” Mary, Lily and Sirius said in unison. 
“Who’s--” James started, 
“The singer from T.Rex.” 
“Oh yeah! Wasn’t that the muggle band you two were obsessed with in first year?” 
Mary tutted, rolling her eyes, 
“Bloody purebloods.” 
“Oi.” Sirius said, nudging her with his elbow. “That’s really crap news, though. Hey, I​  
know what we should d--” 
“No.” Lily said, suddenly, “I know that look, Black!” 
“What?” He painted on his most innocent expression. Lily was not fooled. 
“N​ o​ parties.” 
“Oh come on , Evans, it’s for--” 
“I’ll tell you what I told James.” She shook her head, “Birthdays are fine, but not 
during exams, and not this early in the year!” 
“Prongs?!” Sirius glared at his friend. James looked awkward, 
“Sorry, mate, I did agree to that… y’know Head Boy and everything…” 
“Betrayal!” Sirius pointed at him dramatically, “Treachery! Treason!” 
“All right, calm it down…” Lily stood up. “I’m letting you have your birthday, aren’t I? 
Leave James alone.” 
“You off?” James looked up at her. 
“Potions.” She replied, “I want to get there early to ask Slughorn something.” 
“I’ll walk you.” James stood up too, eagerly. Sirius frowned, but James was oblivious. 
He took Lily’s hand, and without looking away from her, “See you in a bit, Pads? And see 
you at lunch, Moony…” 
“See ya,” Remus nodded, reaching for some more toast. 
Sirius stared after the couple as they left the hall, heads bent close as they chatted 
happily. 
“Can you believe that?” 
“What?” Remus buttered his toast and mused on the merits of honey versus jam. 
“Prongs not wanting a party!” 
“Well, it is quite early in the year…” 
“This time last year he’d have been all for it. It’s her.” 
“Oh dear,” Mary laughed, “I know what’s wrong with you, Mr Black.” 
“There’s nothing wrong with me, I’m the same as I ever was, it’s--” 
“Exactly!” She arched her eyebrow at him, “You ​never​ change. You’re jealous.” 

341 

“Pfft.” Sirius folded his arms and slouched down in his seat. His legs stretched out 
under the table and bumped against Remus’s. “As if I would be jealous of ​him​.” 

“Not of J​ ames,​ ” Mary rolled her eyes, “You’re jealous of Lily. She’s taken your best 
friend away and now you’re feeling neglected, right?” 

Sirius went very quiet. He looked down, then back up at Mary. 
“​No.​ ” He said, very fiercely, getting up. “I’m going to Potions.” He muttered, stalking 
off, away from the breakfast table. Mary sighed deeply, in that that girls did when they 
thought boys were being particularly dense. 
“Honestly.” She tutted. “You agree with me, don’t you, Remus?” 
Remus shrugged. He just wanted to eat his breakfast in peace. Mary tutted at him, too. 
“​Boys.​ ” She said, exasperated, “Emotional cripples, the lot of you. Right, I’ve got a free this 
morning, going to the library. You?” 
“Yeah, but I had something else I wanted to do.” 
“Suit yourself,” she smiled, getting up and leaving too. 
Finally alone, Remus’s mind began to work, the beginnings of an idea forming. He 
didn’t disagree with Lily exactly - the parties were a massive distraction, and not really fair 
on everyone else. But at the same time, he hated seeing Sirius’s excitement quashed; 
particularly by James, who had always been a wholly positive force in his life. 
He couldn’t help but feel that he, Remus, ought to be able to do something to cheer 
Sirius up. After all, he’d done madder things before. But what to do... 
To distract himself, he re-read Grant’s letter as he finished eating, then wrote a quick 
response. 
Dear Grant, 
Thanks for your letter. I’m so glad everything is going well with your aunt. 
I would love to come and see you at Christmas, if not then, over the summer maybe. I will try 
to call as soon as I am able to - hopefully the first weekend in November. 
Crap news about Bolan! Thanks for telling me, we get no news here. 
Speak soon, 
Remus 
He’d send it to the Potters first thing. It hadn’t solved the Sirius problem, though. 
Remus had such a strong sense that he needed to do ​something​ - a gesture. Not romantic 
exactly, but… dramatic. He wanted to do something by himself, something that would make 
Sirius proud of him. This wasn’t a secret, Remus told himself; not in the usual sense. It was 
a surprise. A present. But w​ hat?​ ! 
Just as Remus was getting up to leave the hall, Emmeline Vance wafted past in a haze 
of sweet perfume and blonde hair. Something clicked in Remus’s brain and he jogged to 
catch her up, 
“Hey! Hey, Emmeline! Can I ask you a favour…?” 

* * * 
 

342 

Friday 7th October 1977 
It had taken all week between lessons and homework, but Remus had finally cracked it 

in time for Friday morning. It was a bit mad - which was why he hadn’t told anyone about 
it. They might think it was a bit strange, going so far over the top just to cheer Sirius up. 
But it just seemed so worthwhile at the time; making Sirius happy. 

Emmeline’s instructions had been relatively clear, but Remus had made some of his 
own tweaks for good measure. He had paid her off with the last of his tobacco and sworn 
her to secrecy, though she’d said she wouldn’t tell anyway because she liked the idea so 
much - she loved Marc Bolan too. The next few days he spent doing preliminary work in the 
library, hidden at his favourite desk near one of the back windows, where the light was 
good. 

Friday morning, he woke early - earlier than James, even - borrowed the invisibility 
cloak and made sure everything was in place. He made a mental note to get better at setting 
timing spells as he yawned his way through the halls, tapping each portrait, statue and suit 
of armour with his wand. 

By the time everyone else was beginning to wake up, Remus had finished, and was 
snoozing in an armchair in the common room. 

“Morning, Moony!” James woke him cheerily, in full quidditch kit, broom in hand. 
“Mm morning…” 
“See you in Charms!” He called as he exited through the portrait hole. Remus sat up 
straight and listened intently. 
Quiet… footsteps… James whistling… then… yes! The fat lady began to sing in a high 
falsetto; 
“Ride it on out like a bird in the sky ways 
Ride it on out like you were a bird 
Fly it all out like an eagle in a sunbeam 
Ride it on out like you were a bird…” 
“What the fuck?!” James exclaimed. 
Remus grinned and punched the air. It worked. 
The rest of the morning was delightful chaos. Every portrait in the castle had begun to 
sing ‘Ride a White Swan’, on repeat - and not just the portraits. Every radio, gramophone, 
record player, statue - anything that could make a noise was now tunefully blaring Marc 
Bolan’s greatest hit. 
The best part was that most of the muggle born students were singing along too, as it 
was such a catchy song. 
The racket was so bad in the end, that McGonagall announced lessons would be 
cancelled for the day while the teachers worked out how to stop the singing - Remus had 
added a security measure which meant that ‘Silencio’ only resulted in a volume increase. 
Sirius was thrilled, of course. 
“Who’d you think did it?” Peter asked, excitedly at the breakfast table. 

343 

In the background some sixth year girls were chanting along with the tinny baritone 
of the armour; 
“Wear a tall hat like a druid in the old days 
Wear a tall hat and a tattooed gown 
Ride a white swan like the people of the Beltane 
Wear your hair long, babe you can't go wrong...” 

“I don’t need to think , I know .” Sirius said, smugly. 
Remus smiled. Mary leaned over eagerly, 
“Who?!” 
“Prongs, obviously!” Sirius said, “Probably trying to make it up to me, about the 
party.” 
Remus’s stomach sank. The idiot. 
“Blimey,” Mary said, “James? By himself?” She looked skeptical. Good old Mary.   
“Amazing, right?” Sirius kept saying, “I didn’t even think Prongs k​ new​ any T-Rex 
songs!” 
“Mm.” Remus said, irritably, “Funny thing, that.” 
“What’s up with you?” Mary nudged him, “I thought you liked T-rex!” 
“I do.” Remus replied, tight lipped. He stood up. “If lessons are cancelled, I s’pose I’ll 
go and catch up on some homework.” 
Sirius looked up, confused. 
“I thought we were going to - er - play chess?” Remus shrugged, 
“Not in the mood.” He left quickly, before his annoyance became too obvious. 
He did go to the library, of course (it was the only quiet place in the castle) but he 
couldn’t concentrate on anything - plus, someone had dared to sit in his favourite seat. 
They were only two second years, and Gryffindors too - if he wanted to play the marauder 
card he could easily get them to move. But he was in the mood to suffer in silence, so he 
picked a lesser desk. 
Someone had carved something into the wood - who knew how long ago, everything in 
this damn castle was so old. It was a poem - a few lines of adolescent doggerel. 
Never kiss your lover at the garden gate 
Love is blind - but your neighbours ain’t! 
Remus snorted, despite himself. Stupid. Didn’t even rhyme properly. 
“Alright, M​ oody​?” 
Remus looked up to see Sirius sauntering towards him, weaving smoothly between the 
big study desks. A group of girls sitting behind Remus tittered noisily. Remus slouched 
down further in his seat, folding his arms. 
“I’m busy.” He grunted, flipping open the nearest book to a random page. 
“Mm, you look it.” Sirius grabbed a chair, spun it around and straddled it, folding his 
arms along the back and rested his chin on them, staring at Remus in that annoying way, 
with that annoying grin. 

344 

“Go away.” Remus said, looking at his book. 
“Moony.” Sirius smiled, “It was you, wasn’t it?” 
Remus shrugged. Sirius snorted, “You twat, why didn’t you just ​say​ so?!” 
“Didn’t feel like it.” 
“Ok…” 
“I dunno.” 
“Could it be that you are completely mental, in addition to being a moody git?” 
“Bugger off.” Remus was starting to smile. He hated that Sirius could always do that. 
Sirius gave a little sigh. 
“Y’know, Moony, if you insist on being so secretive all the time, misunderstandings 
will happen…​ ” 
“I know.” Remus felt uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to Sirius being the logical one. 
“Sorry.” His shoulders sank and he looked down nervously. “Do you like it, though?” 
“Of c​ ourse​ I like it you idiot!” Sirius exclaimed, slapping his hand in the desk. “It’s 
incredible, Remus. Thank you. I...” Sirius pinked slightly, “I really love it.” 
“You do?” Remus looked up at him. 
“I do. I’ve always loved your magic. It's so… you.” 
“Shut up.” Remus felt himself blushing. It was even harder not to smile, every muscle 
in his face was conspiring against him. 
He kicked Sirius’s foot under the table. Sirius kicked him back. 
 
(Song: Ride a White Swan - T. Rex) 

  

345 

ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY-THREE 

Seventh Year: Darkness Falls 

 

Friday 4th November 1977 - 2:00 AM in Gryffindor Tower 
“I think there’s something to the colour changing idea.” James slurred, using his 

goblet to gesture wildly. Thankfully, it was empty, and didn’t spill. 
“Nah, it’s too obvious,” Sirius shook his head, just as drunk as James, but handling 

himself remarkably well, for once. 
“Besides,” Lily yawned, from where she sat on the floor, head nodding against James’s 

knee. “What do we change? Their robes?” 
“Their whole dormitory!” Mary suggested, the only one still dancing, winding her 

arms slowly over her head and rolling her hips to a sultry Nina Simone track. “Complete 
makeover! Bright pink!” 

“Why pink, though?” Sirius said, “Some people might like pink.” 

“Ha, on your own, Black!” Marlene pulled a face at him. She was sitting upside down 
in an armchair, her legs dangling over the back, long blonde hair touching the floor. Her 
eyes were fixed on Mary moving in front of the fireplace. 

They were the last few standing after Sirius’s eighteenth birthday party, which had 
been as uproarious and over the top as usual. The only non-seventh year remaining was 
Christopher, who looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open, but held on valiantly, 
taking notes for the Slytherin prank which they were currently brainstorming. 

“How would we even get hold of their robes, though?” Peter asked, fiddling with the 
label on his beer bottle, “We had the same problem in first year, remember? With the 
itching powder.” 

“Oh yeah,” James nodded, “That’s right - it was easier to sneak into their common 
room than it was to work out how the house elves organise the laundry…” 

“How d​ id​ you sneak in?” Marlene asked, frowning, “You can’t have perfected an 
invisibility spell by the age of eleven…” 

“Ask us no questions and we shall tell you no lies, McKinnon.” Sirius winked at her. 
He was watching Mary dance too, his eyes shining with intoxication. “Anyway, we’ve 
decided not to do it.” 

“You decided.” James corrected. 

“It’s my birthday!” 
“Not anymore, it isn’t,” Peter threw a cushion at him. Sirius threw one back, then 
James launched another, and soon enough they were all drunkenly flinging cushions back 
and forth, giggling dopily. 
“Right,” Marlene laughed, after deflecting a big round velvet one, “I’m off to bed.” She 
placed her hands on the carpet and flipped forward neatly. She brushed her jeans as she got 
up, a bit wobbly on her feet, then headed for the girls’ dorm. 

“Noo,” Mary grabbed her around the waist, “Don’t go, Marls, dance with meee!” 

346 

Marlene laughed lightly, but Remus caught an odd flash of annoyance in Marlene’s 
usually placid face as she gently unwound herself from Mary and backed away. 

“I’m sure one of the boys will oblige.” She said, shortly, “Night, all!” 
“Night!” They chorused back. Remus vaguely wondered what was going on between 
the two best friends, but he was too drunk and sleepy to dwell on it very long. 
“I think I’ll go up, too.” Christopher was already on his feet, as though he had been 
waiting for someone else to admit defeat so that he wasn’t the first. “Don’t decide anything 
without me, though!” 
“I really don’t think anyone’s going to formulate a plan tonight.” Lily yawned again. 
“See you tomorrow, Chris.” 
“Night.” The younger boy waved at all of them in his awkward, cheery way. 
“If no one wants to dance with me,” Mary sighed, moving to turn off the record player, 
“I s’pose I’d better get in some beauty sleep too.” 
“And me,” Peter got up, tossing back the dregs of his drink. 
“And me--” Lily was getting up, when James pulled her into his lap, hugging her close. 
“Don’t go yet…” 
“Mmm…” She curled into him, sleepily, and they became one unit, cocooned in the big 
leather armchair. Remus blinked at them blearily and marvelled once again that they had all 
teased James for years about his certainty that he and Lily were made for each other. Funny 
how things work out. 
“Absolutely obscene.” Sirius tutted, pulling a face at the couple. “Well, if that’s the 
way this party’s going, I’ll follow Wormtail’s example… coming, Moony?” 
“Yep.” Remus got up off the sofa they had been sharing (maintaining a polite and 
inconspicuous distance, as they had done all evening). 
They followed Peter up, and found he was locked in the bathroom, noisily brushing his 
teeth and gargling. Remus was exhausted, and sat on the end of his bed to wait, yawning 
and rubbing his eyes. 
“Good birthday?” He asked Sirius. 
“Brilliant.” Sirius grinned back. 
“Good.” 
“...If we wait until Pete’s asleep--” 
“Bad idea, Padfoot, especially if James isn’t back yet. Anyway, I’m knackered.” He 
yawned again, as if to prove his point, “Another time.” This was a bit of a white lie. After 
too many near misses, Remus had been trying to limit the amount of time he spent in 
Sirius’s bed. It seemed so sneaky and dishonest. 
“Another time.” Sirius sighed. “Just… it’s my birthday, and I’ve barely seen you.” 
“I’ve been here all day!” This was true, of course - but it was true of all of the 
marauders, and Lily. 
“You ​know​ what I mean.” Sirius shook his head, impatiently. 

347 

Remus did know, but he didn’t have a response that would please Sirius. This same 
issue kept coming up, and, quite frankly, Remus was getting sick of it. Especially as there 
was no possible way to solve it until Sirius finally made his mind up. Tired, and getting 
more irritable by the second, Remus got up and began to change quickly into his pyjamas. 

Sirius stood up and came over to him, crossing the beam of moonlight streaking the 
ancient floorboards. “You’re not avoiding me, are you?” He asked. 

“No!” Remus muttered, “I’m just busy. I’ve got a lot on.” If he’d said it once, he’d said 
it a thousand times. 

“Ok.” Sirius said, slowly. “Just, y’know. Lily and James are busy too, but they still seem 
to find time to--” 

“We’re n​ ot​ Lily and James, though, are we?!” Remus raised his eyebrow. ​Honestly​. 
Sirius looked hurt. 
“No… but,” 
“That was your decision.” Remus said, buttoning his nightshirt. “What was it you 
said? Not to ‘scream it from the rooftops’. I thought you wanted it this way.” 
“I…” Sirius looked lost. 
Remus rolled his eyes, exasperated. 
“You said you needed time. I’m giving it to you. But you can’t keep whinging about it.” 
Sirius withdrew. Remus knew he had won, but there was no joy in the victory. 
Fortunately, Peter chose that moment to exit the bathroom. He made a beeline for his 
bed, head down, waving a lazy hand at them, 
“Night, lads…” 
“Night Pete!” They both replied, cheerily. 

* * * 
Saturday 26th November 1977 

They could get over little tiffs like that in those days - they could wake up the next 
morning and both be ready to wipe the slate clean. At least until the next time. In the end, 
their desire for each other, their affection - and most of all their friendship - seemed strong 
enough to win out over any other problems. It was a state of being that Remus would later 
learn they were taking very much for granted. 

On top of this, there was a war on, which may have explained quite a bit. Everyone was 
slightly melodramatic, and nerves were raw all round. The headlines weren’t helping: 

MINISTRY RAIDS THREE HOUSES IN SEARCH FOR FORBIDDEN ARTEFACTS 
THIRD VAMPIRE ATTACK IN TWO WEEKS 
MINISTER JENKINS STEPS DOWN IN WAKE OF DISAPPEARANCES 
WEREWOLF REGISTRY ‘DANGEROUSLY UNDER-MANAGED’ MINISTRY INSIDERS 
REVEAL 
And that was only this week’s papers. Something was going on with the Slytherins too 
- more than the usual classist nonsense. Over the summer - or perhaps before that - a new 

348 

hierarchy seemed to have formed, creating obvious divisions in the most controversial 
Hogwarts house. 

Regulus Black had always carried a certain amount of clout, of course. The heir to the 
most noble, exclusive and wealthy pureblood family had been popular amongst his 
ambitious peer group since his very first day of school. In turn, he had surrounded himself 
with a faction of pureblood students who seemed to grow nastier by the year. Except for 
Barty Crouch Jr, perhaps, who had been incredibly nasty even as a little boy. 

Now in his sixth year, Regulus did nothing to dispel the rumours that he was not only 
a death eater, but in regular communication with Lord Voldemort himself. In fact, Regulus 
seemed to rather enjoy his increased powers, which (according to Christopher, who shared 
several classes with him) even some of the teachers were observing. He held himself 
differently. He walked with his back straight, his chin raised, a permanent smirk affixed to 
his pale face. Remus could hardly recognised the nervous, troubled boy that Sirius had once 
called ‘Reggie’. 

Regulus was not stupid. He had never once had a detention, in all his time at school, 
and was as bright as his older brother when it came to his lessons. Still, unpleasant things 
seemed to happen to everyone around him. A fourth year Hufflepuff who (rumour had it) 
knocked over an inkwell on Regulus’s desk while he was studying in the library was found 
two days later locked in a broom cupboard in the dungeons, white as a sheet and completely 
mute. He had been sent home to recover and had not been seen since. 

The Ravenclaw quidditch team practice overran by half an hour one afternoon due to a 
mix up with the rota - meaning that the Slytherin team’s practice had to be pushed back to 
the following day. The next time the Ravenclaws met they had to cancel their practice 
altogether, as well as postpone an upcoming match with Gryffindor, because nobody was 
able to touch their brooms without receiving hundreds of tiny splinters, which could only 
be removed by Madam Pomfrey. 

And the words ‘mudbloods get out!’ had been magically carved into the chalkboard in 
the Muggle Studies classroom, so that the lessons had to be moved while the teachers 
investigated. 

Of course, no one ever questioned Regulus, and, as there were no witnesses to any of 
these crimes, nothing could be done. Everybody knew, though, everybody with any stake in 
the war. The increasing cruelty and prevalence of such attacks had thrown a shadow over 
the castle which every student felt now, if they hadn’t in previous years. 

It might have been the reason that so many people wanted to help the marauders plan 
their next prank. Though that also had a lot to do with Christopher. 

“Did you tell everyone?!” Remus sighed, exasperated, as a third year scuttled out of the 
study room, flushed and grinning after offering his services to the cause (‘I blow stuff up all 
the time in potions!’ he had explained, without a trace of irony. Remus had assured him that 
James and Sirius would be thrilled to hear it.) 

“I just mentioned it to a friend…” Christopher replied sheepishly. “You know, a lot of 
people have got it in for Slytherin, and it’s always a good idea to get a wide range of 
experience…” 

349 

“The marauders do not outsource their pranks.” Remus sniffed, haughtily as they 
made their way back towards the tower. 

“It’s not ​outsourcing​,” Christopher countered, “It’s…. er… collaboration.” 
“We don’t collaborate, either!” 
“Why not? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be fighting for? Inclusion?” 
“Inclusion, yes. Equality, yes. Prank Planning Co-operatives? No.” 
Christopher snorted with laughter. Remus smiled. Christopher had an awkward, 
braying laugh, like a donkey. It was pretty glorious to witness. 
“So,” Christopher wheezed, catching his breath and wiping his eyes, “What are your 
Christmas plans? staying here again?” 
“Mm, maybe… or going to the Potter’s. All hangs on whether or not James is going to 
spend it with Lily’s family.” 
“Oh, Merlin, don’t,” Christopher pulled a face, “I think I preferred it when they hated 
each other. Prefect meetings are so b​ oring​ now, they spend the whole time talking each 
other up. Enough to give you toothache.” 
“I think it’s nice,” Remus said. “James has been bonkers about Lily since second year, 
if he can finally tell her how amazing she is instead of telling us, then all the better.” 
“Yeah, I s’pose you’re right. We should all be so lucky.” Christopher sighed. 
They were quiet for a bit after that, just walking together. As they turned the next 
corner, Remus realised that they hadn’t passed anyone in a while. Fair enough, it was a 
saturday, but it wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, and the weather was too poor for anyone to 
be outside. 
Finally, a first year came hurrying towards them through an archway which led to the 
east wing. Her eyes were big and frightened, she looked up at the two older boys, 
“Ooh,” she squeaked, “Don’t go down there, it’s horrid!” and ran past them, 
presumably back to her house. 
Chris and Remus looked at each other. Chris licked his lips, then squared his 
shoulders slightly, setting his mouth. 
“I ​am​ a prefect… so I’d better…” 
“I’ll come with you.” Remus patted his shoulder. Christopher nodded, looking very 
relieved. Remus wished James was there - or Sirius. 
They walked side by side through the archway, and found themselves enveloped in 
total darkness. It was the middle of the afternoon, and Remus knew there were usually 
windows on this corridor, and even at night it was never ​this​ dark. Something was very 
wrong. 
“L​ umos,​ ” they both whispered, lighting their wand tips and holding them up, casting 
beams of white light across the grey flagstones, the blood red tapestries, the glinting suits 
of armour. It seemed empty. Christopher took a brave step ahead of Remus, clearing his 
throat, 
“Hello? Is anyone here?” He called. 

350 

No response, utter silence. Christopher turned around to look at Remus, squinting and 
raising an arm to his eyes against the brightness of Remus’s wand light, “Perhaps you ought 
to go for a teacher?” 

“Come back with me, then,” Remus said. 

“I…” 
There was a noise. A nasty, crawling, slimey squelch, just ahead of Christopher. They 
both whipped around and aimed their lights at it, but found only an empty corner. 
Christopher’s heart was pounding hard, he reeked of adrenaline and terror. “There’s 
something in here…” he whispered, fearfully. 

“Come on,” Remus said, “Let’s go and get help…” 
“I think it’s over there…” Christopher walked forward again, and Remus lost sight of 
him and had to go by smell. This was particularly disconcerting - Remus had never met a 
darkness so black that he could not see through it. 

“Chris…?” He reached forward, casting his light about. 
“I’ve found it… it’s… no! Oh Merlin, no! No!” Christopher began to scream, somewhere 
further up the hall. 

Without thinking, Remus bolted forward, following the terrible wails, 

“Chris!” 
He almost tripped over him. Christopher was curled up on the floor, hands covering 
his head, rocking and sobbing. “What…?” Remus asked, trembling now, as Christopher 
pointed at it. Remus used his wand to follow his friend's shaking arm, finally throwing light 
on their tormentor. Remus almost screamed too. 

A corpse - a horrible, rotting, shambling corpse was stumbling towards them through 
the velvet blackness. It slumped forward with a heavy stoop, reaching for Christopher. The 
eyes were intact, yellow and red – both vacant and ravenous. It still had most of its skin; a 
grotesque pallet of mottled grey and deep bruise purple. It moaned, a ghastly, rattling 
sound through crooked yellow teeth. 

Remus raised his wand, and stood in front of Chris. He was about to fire a knockback 
jinx at it - the only thing he could think of at short notice - when it fixed its hungry eyes on 
him. In a second, it vanished. 

Remus blinked, gasping, and suddenly the hallway was filled with a pale, milky light, 
as a full moon rose before him. The scream died in his throat, and he was gripped with 
horror - how was it possible?! The moon was not due for a week! He had to run, he had to 
get away from Christopher, but… wait a minute. 

“I know what you are!” Remus’s terror turned to elation, as he raised his wand once 
more, and shouted out confidently; “R​ iddikulus​!” 

The moon began to expand and transform once more - this time into a huge white 
beach ball, which began to bounce and spring off the walls, before bursting into a cloud of 
soapy bubbles. Remus laughed, as loudly as he could under the circumstances, and the 
boggart retreated. He took his chance, and grabbed Christopher - still curled up, eyes 
closed tight - under the arm, dragging him back towards the archway as fast as he could. 

351 

They came out the other side gasping and blinking hard in the light. Christopher was 
gripping Remus’s robes tightly, his breathing heavy, face ashen. 

“Fuck.” Remus murmured, feeling pretty shaky himself. 
“Th-th-that was a boggart!?” Christopher stutted. 
“Yeah, yeah, it was… I’ve never seen one before, have you?” 
Chris shook his head. Remus patted his hands, willing him to let go. 
“Hey, it’s ok. It wasn’t real, remember? C’mon, we have to tell someone, before anyone 
else runs into it…” 
“I’ll go.” Chris said, getting some of his courage back, “I’ll go now… are you ok to wait 
here? In case someone comes?” 
“Of course.” Remus nodded, “No one’s getting past me.” He grinned, trying to make 
light of it, but Christopher was still too shaken. He nodded grimly, and set off, still gripping 
his wand. 
Alone, Remus reached into his deep robe pockets and pulled out the marauder’s map. 
He’d had it on him for a while now, out of concern that James might take a look one day 
and wonder which he and Sirius were sharing the bathroom so often. “I solemnly swear that 
I am up to no good,” he whispered, tapping the parchment. 
The map immediately sprang to life, ink spreading like vines across the page. Remus 
held it up to his eyes and frantically searched for the corridor with the boggart. There it 
was, and there he was, ‘Remus Lupin’, clearly marked out at one end. 
He followed the length of it with his finger, it was completely empty; apparently 
boggarts did not show up, not enough substance, maybe. He reached the end, there was a 
second archway on the other side, he remembered, covered by a tapestry. Three people were 
waiting there, quite still. Barty Crouch Jr, Garrick Mulciber and... Remus’s stomach sank, 
though he was not all that surprised. Here it was; proof in black and white. Regulus Black. 

  

352 

ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY-THREE (Part 2) 

Christmas Compilation  

 

Peter - The Keeper  

 

My perfect cousin 
What I like to do he doesn’t 

He’s his family’s pride and joy, 

His mother’s little golden boy 

 
James swooped overhead, his red robes billowing, his broom straight as an arrow – 

like a quidditch poster. It gave Peter the usual jolt of excitement, combined with a sickly 
twist of envy. It was seventh year, if he wasn’t on the team by now, then he probably never 
would be. He’d tried almost every year – except the year Sirius went for beater, it was best 
to stay well out of that, he could do without the teasing. 

He shivered inside his cloak. Only two days ‘til the Christmas holidays. Part of him 
couldn’t wait - no lessons for two whole weeks. Presents. Turkey. Mrs Potter’s mince pies. 
But then, he wasn’t even sure if they were ​going​ home yet; the full moon fell on Christmas 
night, and for some reason no one wanted to discuss it. 

Remus never talked about full moons, ever, which seemed strange to Peter, but Remus 
was a​ lways​ strange. James was usually the most practical one, but lately all his time was 
taken up with Lily, so he wasn’t going to tell them what to do. Sirius was Sirius, and you 
could never talk to him about ​anything​ to do with Moony, unless you wanted your head 
bitten off. Maybe that was just Peter’s problem, though; he was always saying the wrong 
thing. 

James had possession of the quaffle now, blew his whistle and tossed it to another 
chaser; Emelia Eriksson. She caught it, and aimed for the goal posts, but missed. Peter 
clicked his tongue, agitated. She was ​always​ missing. Last game, she’d dropped the bloody 
thing - saved by James, who had swooped beneath her and caught it deftly before 
Ravenclaw could take possession. If Peter had his way, she’d be off the team. 

James was convinced Emilia would improve, and wouldn’t listen to Peter’s advice. 
Which was fair enough. Not as if Peter could do any better himself. 

The problem was, the only position Peter had ever been any good in was keeper. He’d 
played that role almost exclusively throughout their childhood, when it had just been him 
and James every afternoon. He missed those days bitterly; having James all to himself. Peter 
had worshipped James ever since he could remember. But the time you put in doesn’t count 
for much – he knew that. Like the keeper position. Peter had been good, but not good 
enough. James had been very kind about it, but James was always kind. 

Not good enough. A common criticism, and, again; fair, Peter supposed. He’d heard it 
from his mother from an early age – and his father, (who had left shortly after Peter was six, 

353 

and had only occasionally made guest appearances in his son’s life since.) He was either not 
quiet enough, or too quiet; too slow or too clumsy. Didn’t do enough reading. Didn’t get 
enough practice. Peter’s greatest shame was that he had shown no signs of magic at all 
until he was almost eleven, while James (‘the Potters’ boy’, as he was known in the 
Pettigrew household) had been able to levitate various household items from the age of two. 

At Hogwarts things had been much the same – Peter rarely shone in his lessons, 
except for Astronomy, which he had a good memory for. Still, there was less pressure at 
school than at home; when your best friends were the three most gifted wizards in the year 
then no one really noticed if you weren’t keeping up. If you were a pureblood, then even 
better - especially these days. Still. Peter knew that if anyone bothered to look closely, they 
would be able to tell. He was not quite good e​ nough.​  

Dezzie had seen it. 

Peter bit the inside in his cheek to distract himself. He did this often, especially when 
Desdemona Lewis entered his mind. She had been a complete anomaly in his life; the 
exception which proved the rule. Uncommonly pretty, clever (a bloody Ravenclaw!), kind, 
funny. And interested in him; boring, sub-par, chubby little Peter Pettigrew. He missed her 
every day. He thought maybe he had been in love with her. But it was impossible, in the 
end. Even if she hadn’t dumped him, she was a half-blood. Mother wouldn’t have it. 

He felt her absence, though. He’d never had a name for the feeling before, but now he 
knew it was loneliness. It had been there for a long time, maybe always. Peter remembered 
the first twinges when Philomena went away to school, and then when she left for good. He 
remembered feeling it the moment James and Sirius shook hands for the first time. 

It had mattered less, when Dezzie was around. Peter often wondered if those had been 
his glory years - who would have thought he’d be the first of the marauders to get a 
girlfriend? The first to get a snog, the first caught groping in a cupboard. Even McGonagall 
had been shocked, when she gave them their first detention for ‘indiscreet behaviour in the 
halls’.   

There had been the chess club, of course. Black in second year he had begged James to 
join with him, but of course James was far too cool for that sort of thing, and Sirius - who 
was actually annoyingly good at chess - had laughed in Peter’s face at the mere thought of 
marauders doing anything as goody-goody as chess clubs. (No one made fun of Moony’s 
study group, though, how was that fair?!) Anyway, Dezzie had convinced him in fourth year 
that he should just join if he liked chess so much. So he had. 

It turned out that Peter might be the least cool marauder, but he was the coolest kid in 
the Hogwarts chess club. They were ok - not James and Sirius’s kind of people, mostly 
purebloods, and a lot of them Slytherin’s, too. Snape even showed up occasionally, and 
(though Peter would never dare mention it to James) they managed to put their differences 
aside most of the time and have a few pretty good games. Well, until that disaster in fifth 
year - and that hadn’t even been Peter’s fault, blame Sirius if you wanted to blame someone. 
Blame ​Moony.​  

James blew his whistle and the players still in the air began to descend. Peter got up 
too, and started making his way down the wooden steps to the ground. He might get in a 
few minutes to talk tactics with James before Lily showed up. He grumbled to himself as he 

354 

reached the bottom steps. Bloody Lily, she was worse than Sirius. James had all but 
disappeared, since they’d started going out. 

What would it be like once they finished school? Peter would have to go back and live 
with his mum, and she was expecting him to join the ministry; his step dad might be able to 
get him an entry level job in admin or something like that. He didn’t think he’d be too bad 
at clerical work. Some of his friends in the chess club mentioned they might be able to help 
him out, too. A lot of them had some really good connections. Said that someone as good at 
tactics as he was ought to have no problem fitting in. 

Ah, here came Lily now. Mary too. Peter sighed, hanging back. They hadn’t seen him. 
He considered transforming, and just making an easy escape. He could go and find Dorcas. 
She was a bit annoying, but at least she let him feel her up sometimes. 

Or he could go and look for Remus, who was sure to be in the library - he still had to 
make a start on his Charms essay and had forgotten to take any notes. Good old Moony was 
generally quite obliging, if you bribed him with enough chocolate. 

Lily waved at him from near the changing rooms. He raised a hand and waved back. 
He buried his hands in his pockets, plastered on a jovial smile and headed towards her. 
Quick chat, say bye to James, then find something else to do. Maybe someone fancied a 
game of chess. 

 

(Song: My Perfect Cousin - The Undertones) 

* * *  

Mary - The Lioness 

 

See me pon the road I hear you call out to me, 

True you see mi inna pants and ting, 

See mi in a 'alter back 

Sey mi gi' you heart attack 

Gimme likkle bass, make me wine up me waist 
Uptown Top Ranking 

 

Mary flicked through an old copy of ​Witch Weekly​, bored. She glanced over at the clock 
on Lily’s bedside table – quidditch practice was nearly finished, she could go down and 
meet Marlene in a minute. 

She hated being by herself, and she hated being at a loose end. Consequence of 
growing up in a small flat with a big family, maybe. The thought of sitting alone in her 
bedroom at home reading a magazine in total silence was laughable. There was always a 
sibling jumping on the bed, or hammering on the door, or hiding in the cupboard playing a 
long-abandoned game of hide-and-seek. 

And then her mother would enter, resplendent with a baby on her hip, wooden spoon 
in hand, hair wrapped up in a bright yellow scarf like a crown; 

“What ‘cha think ya be doin’ gyal? Up and help me wid dinner!” 

355 

She smiled to herself now, remembering this. Mary was always queasy with 
homesickness around Christmas – she longed for the noise and colour of home. Grand as 
Hogwarts was, the castle just never felt properly comfortable. 

She slid off the end of her bed lazily and stretched, then walked to the full-length 
mirror to check herself. She stood as tall as she could, raising her chin and stretching her 
calves, then turned from side to side, twisting to check that her skirt sat right over her hips, 
that her chest wasn’t sticking out too obviously. 

She smiled. She looked good. Wearing her favourite brown suede mini skirt (Lily had 
gasped when she saw it; “But what about when you sit down?!”), a mustard yellow 
turtleneck jumper and a neat little brown waistcoat embroidered with a paisley design, 
which she’d bought in a market in Southall last year. Mary liked to stand out – she knew 
she wouldn’t have this figure forever; why not flaunt it? 

McGonagall would go spare if she saw her, but it was a non-uniform day, so the old 
bat couldn’t give her detention, only disapproving looks, and Mary was used to those; she’d 
been getting them from old white ladies all her life. She went to her dresser next, and 
rummaged about in the top drawer for a suitable lipstick. 

Red. Red for Gryffindor; then her outfit would look more like house pride. That might 
make Marlene smile, at least – even if Marls didn’t understand Mary’s devotion to fashion, 
she at least appreciated the effort. McGonagall liked Marlene, of course, because she wasn’t 
too girly, and she played quidditch. ​Mary​ liked Marlene because on their first night at 
Hogwarts, when Mary had thought she was going to die of misery from missing her family, 
Marlene had performed the most hilarious comedy routine impersonating McGonagall’s 
stern looks and prickly Scottish accent so that Mary couldn’t breathe for laughing. 

Marlene always knew how to make you feel better; she would make a really good 
healer, one day. Mary wasn’t sure what she wanted to do after school. They’d always said 
they’d get a cool flat together in London, and have parties every weekend - though now Lily 
was going out with Potter it would probably just be Marlene and Mary. Maybe Remus, too - 
Mary had an idea that he was as aimless as she was, career-wise. 

The problem was - and Mary would admit this to no one - she just didn’t ​want​ a 
magical job. She couldn’t see what was in it, for her. No one in her family could use knuts of 
sickles or any of their stupid wizard money, so what was the point? But of course she had 
no muggle qualifications at all, so it was a dead end either way. Her cousin had done a 
typing course last summer, and Mary’s mother kept on at her to sign up once Hogwarts 
finished. She often fantasised about getting a trendy job at a magazine, or a record 
company, bewitching a typewriter to work unattended and spending her time flirting with 
male models and pop stars.   

She finished her lips, then licked her index finger and smoothed down her eyebrows, 
before straightening her skirt one more time and leaving the dorm. She skipped every other 
step on the way down, even in her high pointed boots – Lily often teased her that her 
Patronus was probably a gazelle. Well, she had, until the end of last year, in DADA, when 
Mary had finally produced one – a lioness. 

356 

“Hiya, Mary!” Connor Fitzpatrick, a very freckly redhaired sixth year came trotting 
over. Mary tried not to roll her eyes, though it was hard. He’d been ambushing her like this 
for weeks, it was getting silly. 

“Hello, Connor.” She smiled, carrying on her way. He followed her. 

“You look gorgeous!” 

“Thanks.” 
Ugh. Mary sometimes wondered if she’d spoiled herself, going out with Sirius Black 
and then Roman Rotherhide in quick succession, back in sixth year. The problem with 
having the two best looking boys in the school as your first serious boyfriends was that 
once those relationships were over, her options were a bit limited. She wasn’t shallow 
(though Marlene had accused her of it on a few occasions) but she wasn’t easily won, either 
– despite some very nasty rumours. 
The thing was, boys got boring after a time. The physical side of things was always the 
best bit, she’d never had any qualms about that; a good time was a good time; but it was all 
the emotional stuff. She never seemed to line up quite right with any of them. They were 
either too distant, like Sirius, or too clingy, like Roman – expecting you to pander to them 
all the time. “W​ hat do you want?​” Marlene would sigh, “T​ hem to worship you?​” 
Mary had replied “​No, of course not!​” But it was a huge lie. Why shouldn’t she want to 
be worshipped by the person she was shagging? What else were men f​ or?​ ! Marlene didn’t 
get it, Mary had come to accept that. 

“What are you up to, later?” Connor was asking now. 
“Oh, I’m really busy today. Up until Christmas, actually.” She shook her head, walking 
faster. 

They had passed through the portrait hole now, and were moving at pace along the 
stone hallways down towards the nearest entrance to the grounds. He kept after her like a 
yappy little Jack Russell, and her patience was wearing thin. Even if Connor was ten times 
more handsome, he was a sixth year, and Mary had standards. 

“Maybe in the new year, then?” He was keeping up with her. Stupid high heels. 

“Erm… look, I don’t think so. Sorry, Connor.” 

“Oh, go on, be nice, you went out with Eric Leith, he told us!” 
That annoyed her. They’d reached a staircase now, and – just her luck – it had decided 
to start moving just as soon as they were halfway down, meaning they had to stop and wait 
until it had decided where to land. She folded her arms crossly and turned to look him in 
the eye. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Yeah you do, he ​told​ us. You and him, round the back of the Hog’s Head, ​he​ says you 
let him put his—” 

Mary whipped out her wand, furious now, and held it to Connor’s stupid freckly chin. 
“Listen to me, you little creep! Eric Leith is a lying prick. I went for a drink with him 
twice,​ and he forgot to bring cash both times – a​ nd​ he still owes me for it. Did he tell you 
that?” Connor shook his head, taking a sharp step back and nearly stumbling on the marble 

357 

steps, she pressed forward, advancing on him. ​I’m a fucking lioness, you little pervert​. “I 
wouldn’t let Eric Leith touch me with a ten-foot barge pole, let alone his grubby little 
hands. Only went with him because I felt sorry for him – he’s pathetic, and so are you, so 
get lost.” 

The staircase reconnected with a grinding clunk at just that moment, and Connor 
scrambled backwards, retreating to the tower. Braver at a distance, his face contorted with 
embarrassment, he sneered down at her, 

“Dirty little slag! As if I’d fancy you! Only tried ‘coz everyone say’s you’re easy.” 
“Sticks and stones.” She tutted at him, putting her wand away and walking down the 
stairs, her cheeks hot and her throat tight. She held her head high. You never let them see 
how it feels. You never let them know it works. “Run along, little boy!” 
“Mudblood!” He spat, from the top of the stairs, before turning tail and scurrying 
away. 
Her breath caught in her chest at that one. She held the bannister, and pressed her lips 
together. Fucking wizards.  
 
(Song: Uptown Top Ranking - Althea & Donna) 

* * *  
Lily - The Sister 
 
(Would you believe in a love at first sight?) 
Yes I'm certain that it happens all the time. 
(What do you see when you turn out the light?) 
I can't tell you, but I know it's mine. 
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends 
  
Dear Lily, 

Mummy and Daddy said that in your last letter you asked if you could bring your ‘boyfriend’ 
home for Christmas this year. I wanted to write and tell you I think you are being incredibly selfish. 
You know that this is my first proper Christmas with Vernon, and you know how much I was 
looking forward to him meeting the family properly. 

I am used to you attempting to steal my thunder on every possible occasion, and I have been 
incredibly gracious about it for seven years now, but this is absolutely the final straw. I cannot 
believe you would be so thoughtless as to invite some flash-in-the-pan summer romance, when 
Vernon and I have been seeing each other for two years now. You know what he means to me, and 
you know how he feels about unwholesome elements. 

If you dare to spoil my Christmas, I will NEVER speak to you AGAIN. 
Your sister, 
Petunia Ann Evans. 

358 

Lily fought back tears as she finished reading the letter. She had been so excited when 
the envelope arrived on the breakfast table that morning, recognising Petunia’s 
handwriting. She’d been silly enough to save it, to keep it for later when she could read it in 
private. 

And now here she was, in her favourite spot by the window in the Gryffindor common 
room, hands shaking and close to crying. She folded the letter up and slid it into her pocket. 
She shook her head fiercely and looked out of the window, breathing deeply and willing the 
lump in her throat to retreat. 

That stupid cow isn’t worth crying over!​ Severus’s words - Lily couldn’t help hearing them 
whenever Petunia hurt her. Even after everything Sev had done, it was still a comfort. 
You’re worth ten of her! 

Better not to think about Sev for too long, either, or else she’d never stop crying. 

She blew her nose into her pocket hanky and looked up. Mary had once told her that if 
she was going to cry, looking up helped. ‘Save your mascara’ she had grinned. Lily smiled 
thinking of that, and felt better. 

Ugh, well, that settled it. James definitely couldn’t come for Christmas. She’d really 
wanted him there, too. More and more, Lily felt like a stranger when she visited home. She 
had hardly any friends in Cokeworth now; they all went to Petunia’s school, the local 
Grammar, and did O-levels or A-Levels, or else went to typing college. Some of them had 
jobs, even, or steady boyfriends on the cusp of proposing. Lily couldn’t tell any of them 
what her plans were, or anything at all about Hogwarts, which they just thought was an 
ultra posh private school, like Cheltenham Ladies’. She knew they all thought she was a bit 
of a snob now, and she suspected it might have something to do with Petunia. 

Of course, there was no question of Lily going to the P​ otter’s​ for Christmas, as much as 
she’d quite like to. Evans family Christmases were hugely important to her parents, 
particularly her father, who was always so happy to see Lily come home after the school 
term. 

She’d just have to explain it to James - fortunately, she knew he’d understand. It had 
been quite a revelation, perhaps the most startling of all, to discover just how 
understanding and thoughtful James could be. The way he’d looked after Remus had proved 
that much to her. 

It was probably about time to go and meet James now, actually; his practice was due to 
finish in a minute or two. She wiped quickly under her eyes just to make sure, and glanced 
at her ghostly reflection in the window glass to check her face. Lily blushed at her own 
girlishness. She’d never given a toss how she looked before. 

She set off out of the portrait hall and towards the grounds. He would be in a good 
mood, right after practice, even if it had gone badly. More amenable to bad news. Lily 
rehearsed in her head exactly what she planned to say - best not to mention Petunia’s letter, 
better to frame it as her own idea. She didn’t want James to know how her sister felt about 
magic, or wizards, or any of it. It was bad enough that he was a pureblood and she had to 
explain every other muggle thing to him. 

359 

That was unfair, she scolded herself. at least James cared enough to ask - at least he 
was genuinely interested. She remembered Snape’s look of distaste when she did anything 
to remind him of her muggleborn status. And he’d been a half-blood. 

“Excuse me!” Connor Fitzpatrick, a younger Gryffindor boy came hurrying past her, 
bumping into her shoulder, hard. 

“Oi!” Lily shouted, as he kept marching off, back towards the common room. She’d 
make a note of that. Why did boys have to be so rude? 

She re-adjusted her dress, quickly. It was a neat navy blue pinafore over a cream 
polo-neck jumper. A bit shorter than she liked, but she had nice thick tights on, and Mary 
kept telling her that her legs were her best feature. Potter agreed, and she’d thumped him 
for it, though secretly she thought about it all the time. 

She descended the steps slowly, taking in the scent of pine, orange, and clove. 
Christmas at Hogwarts was wonderful, and to think that this would be her last! She 
remembered the very first day, crossing the lake in the little rowboat with Severus, sitting 
in the Great Hall and just s​ taring​ at everything. Magic had never ceased to amaze her. If she 
had her way, she would never leave. 

Lily had had a few chats with McGonagall, earlier that year, about what it took to 
become a teacher at Hogwarts. McGonagall had been kind, but suggested that she try a job 
outside of school first. Get some ‘life experience’. Fair enough, Lily supposed. She knew 
very little of the wizarding world, really. Besides, the only thing Lily thought she was good 
enough to teach was Potions, and Slughorn didn’t seem set to retire any time soon. Perhaps 
a job in an apothecary. Her kindly Potions professor had mentioned that he had a number 
of contacts in that area, if she was interested. 

She made a note to talk to James about it, some time. She valued his opinion, on that 
sort of thing - and after all, his grandfather had been a famous potioneer. 

“Oh, hiya, Lily!” Mary was coming out of one of the girl’s bathrooms by the grand 
entrance. She looked like a model straight out of J​ ackie​ magazine. Mary loved non-uniform 
days. 

“Hi!” Lily smiled, “Must have just missed you leaving the tower. Meeting Marlene?” 

“Yeah, thought I might as well. Meeting Potter?” 

“Yep.” 
They walked along together, arm in arm, huddling close together as they came out into 
the cold winter air. Mary smelled very grown up, some perfume a boy had bought her last 
valentines day. Lily wished she had that much confidence. 

“How is Potter? Gone all the way, yet? Full Monty?” 

“Oh my god, Mary…” 
“What?!” She giggled, coquettishly, “I’m just curious. Never had James, myself. Not 
even a snog.” 

“I’m glad.” Lily rolled her eyes. 

“Two out of four isn’t bad. Never fancied Peter, poor chap.” 

“Mm, I’m still not sure I believe you about Remus…” 

360 

“Ask him.” She shrugged, confidently. “What are you two doing, after this? Cosying 
up in your usual spot on the nice couch?” 

“I need to tell him he can’t come home with me for Christmas,” Lily bit her lip, 
frowning. They had reached the pitch now, and the players were just landing, by the looks 
of things. They waved at Peter, sitting in the stands. “Tuney won’t have it - her boyfriend’s 
spending the day, so I s’pose it’s not really fair…” 

“Ugh, bugger Petunia.” Mary tutted, “That thick-necked boyfriend of hers might be 
big, but he doesn’t take up that much room. You should come over our flat on Christmas 
day - fifteen of us ‘round the table, and that’s a quiet dinner.” 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to upset her…” Lily was distracted now, watching James’s 
descent. God, he was bloody fantastic on a broom. She felt a hot blush start up under her 
polo-neck, creeping up towards her cheeks. Last night they’d gone a bit further than usual, 
and he’d slipped his hand up under the elastic of her bra. She’d gasped, and he’d gasped, 
and he’d murmured against her lips - ​oh Lily, oh, so lovely​ … she’d practically dissolved into a 
puddle. 

“Anyway,” Mary was saying, “You’re completely bonkers over that boy. All’s fair in 
love and war, innit?” 

“Mm…” Lily murmured, not really listening. 
 
(Song: With a Little Help from my Friends - The Beatles) 

* * *  
Marlene - The Bitch 
 
Some people think little girls should be seen and not heard 
But I say... 
Oh Bondage! Up yours! 
Bind me, tie me 
Chain me to the wall 
I wanna be a slave to you all 
Oh bondage, up yours! 
Oh bondage, no more! 
Oh bondage, up yours! 
Oh bondage, no more! 

 
Marlene flew a quick lap around the quidditch pitch while James drilled the new 
chaser, Eriksson. She was rubbish, but the best they’d been able to get at short notice. Oh 
well, Marlene thought to herself, they’d won the cup every year since she had been on time 
team, it made no odds to her if they lost it this year. 

361 

She flew as fast as she dared, enjoying the wind on her face, whistling past her ears, 
the stands below. She gripped her bat and made a few practice swings. She’d quite miss 
hitting things, once school was finished. 

She was nervous; this was just nervous energy, she told herself. As soon as Marlene 
addressed the thought, her heart began to pound, her stomach flipped and she had to slow 
down and fly lower to stop from wobbling. Phew. Hadn’t felt like that in a while. She 
smiled, and allowed herself to be happy. To feel the happiness, uninhibited and without 
shame or embarrassment. 

James blew the whistle and she landed quickly, keen for a shower. She could see Lily 
and Mary waiting for her - well, Lily was most likely waiting for James - and she was 
hoping to avoid them for a bit longer. 

“Alright, McKinnon?” Yaz called to her from near the changing rooms, “Having fun 
up there?” 

Marlene rolled her eyes and pretended to ignore her. She was hot from the exercise, so 
her face was already red - a handy camouflage. She hurried into a shower cubicle quickly, 
wanting to get the one at the far end which had the best temperature control. 

“Ooh you bitch!” Yaz called over in the next stall as Marlene undressed. “Ought to be 
in Slytherin!” 

“Snooze you lose, Patel!” Marlene called back, grinning to herself. She turned the knob 
to her perfect temperature - not too hot, but with a nice bite, enough to make plumes of 
steam billow out over the top of the stall. She stepped under the stream, “Aah!” she cried, to 
annoy Yaz more, “Just how I like it!” 

There was quiet for a moment, and then, low - so that only the two of them could hear 
it - 

“Saucy minx.” 
Marlene tilted her head back to soak her hair, and bit her lip. That had been the surest 
sign yet. The butterflies returned to her stomach. 
Yaz had only joined the quidditch team this term - She was a sixth year Gryffindor 
who Marlene had only spoken to once or twice before. But since September, they had been 
seeing a lot of each other, when she qualified as the new keeper. She was brilliant at it, 
athletic and tactical, the perfect build, balance and form. At first, Marlene had appreciated 
her skill. Then, after the heartbreak of the summer had run its course, Yaz had become a 
pleasant distraction. 
Mary was never going to happen. Marlene had accepted this long ago. Or she thought 
she had. After Remus’s startling revelation that first night in Cornwall, the tension had 
become almost unbearable for Marlene, and she had spilled everything to her best friend in 
a flurry of tears and longing kisses. Once she had calmed down, Mary had hugged her, hard, 
and stroked her hair like a mother, as she gently let Marlene down. It's not how I feel about 
you. I love you. But it's not like that. After four years of adoring her vivacious, gorgeous, 
infuriating friend, Marlene had taken this harder than she expected to. 

She tried not to take it out on Mary, who had never led her on, never done anything 
she oughtn’t to, not knowingly. But it was difficult nonetheless. Marlene felt awful; what 

362 

kind of horrible person would she be, to get angry at her best friend for something neither 
of them could help? What kind of heartless bitch? 

So when Yaz had first flirted - yes, Marlene was sure it was flirting, now - she had 
been reluctant to respond. To make the same terrible mistake twice would be more than 
she could bear. So she waited, and was friendly, but not too friendly. Every wink from the 
other girl was met by a bright smile from Marlene. Every coy remark with an innocent 
giggle. But now she was sure . 

The butterflies flapped their wings again, and it felt good. Exciting. Starting 
something new. After the summer, she had thought she might never have that feeling again 
- the chances seemed so impossibly stacked against her. As Marlene shampooed her hair, 
for some reason she thought of Remus. A few times, lately, she had thought of talking to 
him. She felt guilty; Remus had always been such a troubled figure, so brave and strong and 
yet for some reason so repressed and locked down. Bursting with emotions but apparently 
unable to express any of them. And now they all knew why, she felt so sorry for him. She’d 
wanted to say something, on their way back from healing classes, which was the only time 
they were alone, usually. She’d wait for an empty corridor and stop and turn to him and say, 
very quietly, “Me too, Remus. You aren’t alone.” 

But she hadn’t, and time was getting short. Soon enough, none if it would matter any 
more; school would be over, and they would begin their lives, childish things put away. 
Marlene read the papers. She knew what was coming, and she knew that there would be no 
time for selfish problems any more. 

“Hey, McKinnon,” Yaz’s soft, singsong voice called over the hissing showers. “I’ve got 
a bruise, can you take a look? I’ve heard you’re Pomfrey’s star pupil…” 

“Um… ok, I can look, just a minute--” Marlene turned off her shower quickly and 
wrung out her hair. She was crap at drying charms, so it would just have to get stuffed 
under her woolly winter hat until it dried. 

There was a knock at her cubicle door. Marlene wrapped a towel around herself 
quickly and unlocked the door, hands shaking a little. Yaz was in a towel too, her long dark 
hair twisted into a black velvet rope over one shoulder, black eyes glittering like twin 
galaxies, full of tease and mischief. Marlene had to fight not to bite her lip again. 

“Mm.” Yaz smirked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, “Nice and warm 
in here.” 

“Where’s the um... The ...bruise?” Marlene breathed, watching the steam settle on 
Yaz’s warm brown shoulders and roll down in rivulets, soaking into the thin towel. 

“What are you doing after this?” Yaz asked, still smiling, “Fancy a walk?” 

“Er… my friend Mary’s outside…” 

Yaz shrugged, 

“You see her all the time. Come for a walk with me.” 
“Um. Yes. Ok.” Oh wow. Now it was happening, she had no idea what to do at all. 
“The… bruise?” 
“Oh yeah,” Yaz laughed, tossing back her head and touching a finger to her jaw line, 
“Just here…” 

363 

Marlene leaned forward to see, and Yaz turned her head smoothly, catching her in a 
kiss, full in the lips. 

Butterflies. 

 

(Song: Oh Bondage! Up Yours - X ray Spex) 

* * *  

Sirius - The Puzzle 

 
When the day is done 

And the sun goes down 

And the moonlight’s shining through 

Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven 

I’ll come crawling home back to you. 

  

He was going to tell James. Just as soon as he knew what to say. 
Fucking hell, how had it been so easy for Moony? It had to be one of life’s great 
ironies that mysterious, undefinable, i​ ncomprehensible​ Moony had been able to bear his soul 
so simply, and so effortlessly. But that was Remus all over. That was the draw. Just as soon 
as you thought you understood enough to see him clearly, another part revealed itself, and 
the whole picture transformed before your eyes. Layer upon layer, until you realised you 
had never truly known Remus at all. It was fascinating, and frustrating. 
James was the opposite; what you saw was what you got, and Sirius loved him fiercely 
for that. Because you knew where you were. He never wrong-footed you, or left any room 
for misunderstandings. They had never fought, not in seven years of friendship, and as far 
as Sirius Black was concerned, that was nothing short of miraculous. 
They’d ‘had words’, of course. He was no stranger to James’s scolding tone, or even – 
much worse – his disappointment. Fifth year came to mind – though Sirius always tried to 
forget that as soon as he remembered it. The point was, James Potter and Sirius Black were 
almost always in perfect harmony, and it had been that way since they met on the Hogwarts 
Express. James was his other half. His b​ etter​ half, come to that. The fact that there was 
anything happening in Sirius’s life which James was not aware of would have been 
unthinkable two years ago. 
But that’s what Moony ​did​. He just breezed in and turned everything upside down and 
then vanished before you’d caught your breath. Sirius sometimes felt like he’d spent the 
past two years trying to work out which way was up. Not that Sirius was ​complaining,​ not 
that it wasn’t bloody a​ mazing​, but he would be the first to admit that he was no good at this 
sort of thing. It wasn’t as if he’d ever been given an example. 
Remus could put a date on it. It had been so clear to him; he knew the moment 
everything had changed. But Sirius had not realised. Obviously there must have been a 
moment, a second in which he had suddenly become aware. But nothing stood out. Hadn’t 
he a​ lways​ thought Moony was a bit special? Hadn’t he a​ lways​ wanted to get a bit closer? 

364 

Sirius groaned and buried his head in the pillow beside him. Yes, he definitely had to 
tell James. 

Being with Moony was easy. Telling other people was not. 
He got up, off his bed. A decisive move. He’d thought about this enough for one day. It 
was getting too complicated, better to find something else to think about. Sirius knew from 
experience that if he spent too long alone his mind started talking over him. Told him 
things he didn’t like to hear, about himself. About what other people thought of him. Better 
to interrupt it, to let someone else distract him. 
Where was Prongs? Quidditch. Which meant that Peter would be watching. Sirius 
couldn’t bear to sit next to Wormtail in the stands, watching Prongs having all the fun and 
pretending they weren’t both wild with jealousy. 
Anyway, if practice was over, that meant Evans would be there to meet James. And 
Sirius wasn’t so pathetic yet, that he’d follow those two around hoping for a scrap of 
attention. Well, that really left him no choice, Sirius decided with a smirk to himself. 
Moony. He went over to Remus’s bedside table and pulled out the marauder’s map. 
Yep, there was Prongs, zooming back and forth across the oval pitch. Peter in the 
stands, Marlene looping the perimeter – probably bored, poor girl, James’s drills could be 
dull. Evans and MacDonald looked like they were together, just coming onto the grounds 
now. He watched their little flags, the steady progress. The tagging had been Remus’s idea, 
but the delicate little scrolls of text had been Sirius’s. It was all very well, producing a 
spectacular feat of magic – but presentation was everything. That was the difference 
between him and Remus – their magic, anyway. Raw power vs. spontaneous finesse. 
Regulus was in the dungeons. Sirius couldn’t help checking. It was just good to know 
that he was where he was supposed to be. Maybe if he was surrounded by Slytherins he 
wasn’t tormenting anyone else, for once. Sirius knew it was none of his business – that he 
had to cut ties with his brother, who was just another death eater, now, just another enemy. 
But it was harder than he could manage. Sometimes, if he had nothing else to do, he spied 
on Regulus. Like that day in Hogsmeade – and it had come in handy then, hadn’t it? He’d 
saved Moony and that annoying swotty sixth year kid, completely by accident. 

Now, where w​ as​ Moony…? Sirius scanned the map, all of the usual places – the Charms 
classroom (Sirius could never remember when the study sessions were scheduled for), the 
library, the kitchens… but no, he wasn’t in any of these places. Sirius tried not to get too 
nervous as he searched quickly for his friend – not in any of his usual hiding places – and 
why should Remus be hiding? Was there something wrong, which Sirius didn’t know 
about? That was always a possibility. Had he left school again, like that time he went to 
face the werewolf? Oh merlin, what on earth had the stupid prat decided to square off 
against now?! 

Ah. No. There he was. ​Remus Lupin​, the flag read, and Sirius had to laugh at himself. 
He was only down in the bloody common room. Just a few meters away. Sirius put the map 
back, and straightened up. He glanced at himself in the mirror as he left the room, down 
the stairs. 

365 

They might get an hour or two alone, before dinner, as long as no one came up to the 
dorm room. A game of gobstones, or snap, or just listen to a record, maybe. How long had it 
been since they’d had any space to relax together? But of course, Remus seemed to want to 
do anything b​ ut​ relax these days; it was work, work, work. 

Sirius reached the bottom of the stairs and cast around, looking for Remus. The 
common room was almost empty, only a small huddle of first years trading chocolate frog 
cards in one corner, a fifth year plugged into their headphones, head bobbing wildly by the 
window sill. And Remus, slumped over in his favourite armchair, head resting on a bent 
elbow, huge book in his lap. Fast asleep, snoring very softly. 

Sirius stood apart from him, hands on hips, and smiled. Work, work, work. He must be 
knackered. Sirius relented. Maybe Moony didn’t need an hour of distracting Sirius from his 
own thoughts just now. Maybe he just needed a good long kip. He moved away, and sat in 
the sofa opposite. He picked up a copy of the D​ aily Prophet,​ and began doing the crossword, 
glancing up as often as he dared. 

He looked so different, asleep. Without his sharp, watchful eyes open, Remus’s face 
softened, making him look younger; more fragile. Silvery scars caught the grey winter light, 
the only outward sign of how impossibly ​strong​ Remus was. How resilient. Tough. Sirius 
could remember wanting to b​ e​ Remus, very early on. The rock stars Sirius adopted as heroes 
during those years had all seemed so much more like Moony, they had belonged to ​his 
world. Remus was fierce, and ​cool,​ slightly feral – he didn’t take shit from anyone, least of 
all adults. At Grimmauld Place, in the holidays, Sirius would think about his half-blood 
friend, wonder what ​he​ might say when Walpurga got in his face. He wouldn’t be 
frightened. He wouldn’t give in. 

And so – no, Sirius could never be sure of a specific moment, or a sudden change. 
Because maybe it had just always seemed inevitable, to him. Because who ​else​ could Moony 
belong to? Who else but Sirius could want him as much? 

The portrait hole slid open behind him, and a gust of cold air rushed in, disturbing the 
warm of their fireside. Sirius sighed, hearing James’s familiar footfall behind him, and 
Lily’s musical laugh. He prepared to force a grin, and stole one last glance at Remus, fast 
asleep, cheeks flushed pink. 

“Wotcher!” James leapt over the back of the sofa, plonking his stupid gangly self down 
next to Sirius and whacking him in the arm. Sirius whacked him back, 

“All right? Good practice?” 
Remus stirred awake, stretching and yawning and grinning dopily up at Lily, who 
patted him on the head, leaning against his chair. 

“Sorry love,” she said, softly, “Didn’t want to wake you.” 
“Didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Remus replied, lifting the heavy book onto the other arm 
of the chair, then rubbing his thighs as if they were sore. He looked up at Sirius and gave 
him a quick, secretive smile. Sirius looked away, shyly. 

Mary and Peter had come in with them, and stood around, a bit awkwardly. No 
Marlene. Sirius wondered if they were having a tiff again – Marlene had been really gloomy 
lately, and hardly around at all. 

366 

“I’m just dumping my kit,” James said, waving at his big quidditch duffle bag, in a pile 
on the floor. “Then going down for an early tea. You lot want to come?” 

“D’you know what.” Peter said, suddenly, eyeing his chess set, on a high shelf in the 
far corner of the room. “Think I’ll stay here and see if anyone fancies a game.” 

“I’ll walk down with you,” Mary said, “See if Roman’s about.” 
“I thought you two had split up?” Lily raised an eyebrow. Mary shrugged, hand on her 
hip. Sirius knew that look, well enough. Mary wanted something, and she was going to get 
it. 
“Moony? Padfoot?” James looked at his two friends. Remus yawned, 
“Nah, sorry mate. Too much reading.” 
Sirius held up his crossword, 
“Really into this, actually.” 
“Weirdos.” James snorted, before hoisting himself up, just as quickly as he’d made 
himself comfortable. “Alright, gimme five minutes, Evans.” And strode off towards the 
dorm with his bag, whistling merrily. 
Five minutes passed, and everyone chattered around them, before heading off in their 
different directions, nodding goodbye and finally leaving the scene as peaceful as they had 
found it. Sirius and Remus had not moved, only pretended to look at their book and 
crossword, two friends, content in each other’s company. 
Alone, they both looked up. Remus’s eyes burned so brightly, they were so full of every 
dark secret, every private moment. Sirius swallowed, dryly, thrilled and amazed. Remus 
grinned, and the force of it was enough to knock Sirius out cold. 
“All right?” Remus asked, softly. 
“Yeah.” Sirius whispered back. 
 
(Song: Bat Out of Hell - Meatloaf) 

  

367 

ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY-FOUR 

Seventh Year: Christmas Part 1 

 
In a miserable twist of fate, the December 1977 full moon fell on Christmas Day. The 
marauders all agreed to stay at Hogwarts for the duration, with a plan to travel back to the 
Potter’s on Boxing Day. Lily made them all promise that they would meet up as soon as 
possible in Diagon Alley, 
“It’s the only place my parents will let me go by myself,” she explained to Remus, “I 
wanted to come to the Potters too, but they’re protective and they haven’t met James yet.” 
“Why not invite James to yours?” Remus suggested. Lily bit her lip and shrugged. 
“It’s just a bit tricky. Maybe for Easter break.” 
It was a cheerless Christmas, really. James was missing Lily, Peter obviously wished he 
was at home, not stuck at school, Sirius was anxious and jittery whenever he and Remus 
were in the same room with someone else, and Remus himself was grumpy and irritable, 
waiting for the moon to take hold. 
They didn’t do anything very Christmassy, either, other than go down for lunch with 
the other students who had stayed. They had promised Mrs Potter not to exchange gifts 
until they could all be together. 
“I feel awful.” Remus sighed, as he wound his scarf around his neck, ready to start 
heading towards the shack ahead of his friends. “You lot should be at home. I could have 
stayed by myself – or used your attic again, Prongs.” 
“Don’t be silly,” James shook his head manfully, “I know how bad it is for you, in the 
attic, tied down like that. The shack is the best place – at least we can all run about a bit.” 
And he was right, of course. They all needed a good run, and in the morning, Remus 
woke up and looked at his friend’s rosy, grinning faces, and knew they all felt much better 
for it. 
They couldn’t leave immediately, of course, Madam Pomfrey would not allow it. 
Remus was prescribed his usual morning of sleep, and he hoped that the other marauder’s 
had taken the opportunity to do the same. 
When he woke up in the infirmary, Sirius was sitting in the chair next to him, 
grinning, two suitcases at his feet. 
“Ready when you are!” He said, cheerfully, and Remus felt a pang of guilt again. Sirius 
needed to get home to the Potters’ just as much as James did. 
“Have you packed for me?” Remus sat up, blinking, “Blimey.” 
“Of course I haven’t,” Sirius snorted, “Prongs did. I made sure he got the book on your 
bedside table, though.” 
Remus opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius raised a hand, “A​ nd​ the one under your 
pillow. Don’t worry, Moony, nothing gets past me.” 
“Cheers,” Remus smiled. “Just let me get dressed, then…” 

368 

“Sure you’ll be ok to floo?” Sirius asked, as Remus swivelled out of the bed, his bare 
feet landing on the cold flagstones. He felt a bit weak and woozy, but no worse than usual. 
He nodded, 

“Yeah. Apparated after a full moon once, remember?” 
“Ok. But you should say, if you don’t feel up to it.” 
“I will. Pass my jeans, will you?” 
Sirius complied. Remus dressed, slowly, checking his body with every stretch and turn, 
making sure everything was working as it should be. He was starving hungry, but willing to 
wait for Mrs Potter’s cooking. “Where are the others?” Remus asked, bending now to tie his 
shoelaces. 
“Common room,” Sirius replied. He held up his silver compact mirror, “I’m to let 
Prongs know when we’re on our way to McGonagall’s office, they’ll meet us.” 
“Great.” Remus nodded. He stopped for a moment, dizzy again, and pretended to just 
be stretching. 
“Moony?” 
“Mmm...?” Remus began his second shoe, concentrating very hard. 
“I’m going to tell Prongs, over Christmas.” 
“What?!” He straightened up so suddenly that he had to grab Sirius’s arm to stop from 
wobbling over. His head swam, and he blinked a few times while equilibrium restored 
itself. “Tell… Prongs?” 
“Yeah.” Sirius looked very pale, his eyes big, “If it’s ok with you? I think I’d better.” 
“Of course. Yeah. I mean. Wow. Why now?” 
Sirius shrugged, 
“Something’s got to give. And I’m mental about you.” 
Remus’s face grew hot and he looked away. He nudged Sirius’s toe with his own, 
“Shut up.” 
“Never.” Sirius poked his tongue out. “So it’s ok?” 
“Yeah. Of course it is. Will you let me know… when?” 
“Definitely. I want to pick the right time.” 
“Ok.” 
“I’ll go and get Pomfrey now, shall I?” 
“Cheers.” And with that, Sirius jumped up and disappeared behind the screen. Remus 
sat still for a few minutes, stunned. Well. People could always surprise you. 

* * * 
Boxing Day afternoon at the Potters was a welcome change of pace. Euphemia wanted 
to know all about Lily, and Fleamont wanted to know how the new Gryffindor quidditch 
line-up was working out. This led to a very long and involved argument between Peter, 
Sirius, James and his father, as they complained about the poor new chaser – something 
Eriksson – and fretted over whether or not this would be the end to Gryffindor’s six year 
winning streak. 

369 

In the end, Remus and Euphemia abandoned them to this and went into the kitchen to 
help Gully with the washing up. Mrs Potter pulled up a seat for Remus by the sink, and 
said, 

“You just sit there, my love, and you can dry. Don’t want you on your feet all evening, 
or you’ll never get up tomorrow. And it sounds like the boys have a lot planned.” 

They worked away in companionable silence for a while, Remus practiced several 
drying spells before giving up and just using a dishcloth. Maybe he would never be any 
good at domestic incantations. 

“Comes with practice,” Euphemia smiled. Her face was soft in the twinkle of the fairy 
lights, and though she looked tired, and older than Remus had remembered her, she looked 
content and homely. Just as a mother should look, in his mind. 

“Mrs Potter?” 

“Yes dear?” 

“You knew my dad, didn’t you?” 
“Lyall? A little bit, but not well. Monty knew him better, they crossed paths at the 
Ministry once or twice… and I believe they were both partial to a few Friday night pints in 
the Leaky Cauldron,” she clucked her tongue indulgently. 

“What about Hope?” 
Euphemia set down the plate she had been about to hand over, and looked down at 
him. He swallowed, “Hope Lupin? My mother. She was a muggle.” 

“Yes, I know, dear. I only met her once.” 
“But you ​met​ her.” He stared at James’s mother, amazed. Why had it never occurred to 
him before? She pulled off her bright yellow marigolds and sat down in the chair beside 
him. 
“We were only introduced. We were both pregnant, at the time, that’s the only reason I 
remember. She was a lot younger than me, and – as you say – a muggle. We moved in 
different circles, I suppose. Lyall was a very private man.” 

“What was she like?!” Remus asked, desperately, “Was she… nice?” 
“Oh, Remus,” Euphemia reached over and took his hand, which was cold from the 
dishes, and felt a bit too familiar. He didn’t want to upset her, though, so he let her do it. 
“She was ​very​ nice, from what I remember. Mousey little thing, blonde hair, and a lovely 
smile. Very small, I remember thinking – though next to Lyall, anyone looked small. I don’t 
remember what the occasion was, but we were both enormous – I remember her telling me 
she was expecting in March. I told her to get in touch if she needed anything, but I’m afraid 
she never did. Perhaps she didn’t know how to do it.” 
Remus looked down. If he had made it through his childhood unscathed, perhaps in 
time his mother might have made more friends. Perhaps she would have befriended Mrs 
Potter, and perhaps they would all have spent Christmases together. 
“I was given a letter,” Remus said, slowly. “When I turned seventeen. She wrote it – 
Hope – before giving me away. She said in it… she said I might try to find her.” 

“Is that what you’d like?” 

370 

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s changed her mind by now.” 
“Remus.” Euphemia said, very fiercely, “I can promise you she hasn’t. If you want to 
look for your mother, then just give me the word. Monty can do it in a trice.” 
Remus looked up, finally, and smiled. 
“Thank you.” 
He went to bed early, and was woken by Sirius, creeping in under the covers. The 
house had grown quiet, and it was very dark out. 
“Sorry,” Sirius whispered, smelling faintly of brandy, and warm all over as he wound 
his arms around Remus, “Di’n’t mean to wake you up.” 
“Yeah, you did.” Remus murmured, sleepily. “Haven’t told Prongs yet, then?” 
“Nah,” Sirius shook his head against Remus’s arm, burying his face under the duvet, “I 
thought tomorrow. After Diagon Alley, before dinner.” 
“Ok.” Remus sighed, closing his eyes and settling back to sleep. Just before he drifted 
off, he whispered, “You better set an alarm of something, then, so you can get back to your 
own bed, before…” But no. Sirius had fallen sound asleep. 

* * * 
Tuesday 27​th​ December 1977 

“COME ON, COME ON! HURRY UP!” James was bellowing up the stairs as Remus 
searched for his woolly hat. 

“Calm down you lunatic, we’re almost ready!” Sirius yelled back, from the landing, 
where he was re-arranging his parting in the full length mirror. 

“No shouting in the house, boys!” Euphemia called from the kitchen. 
“I can’t find it. Did you pack it?” Remus huffed, hanging off his door frame. 
“I told you, I left packing to Prongs. OI, PRONGS! YOU FORGOT MOONY’S HAT 
YOU BASTARD!” 
“I ASKED YOU TO HELP ME!” James shouted back, “YOU SAID I HAD 
EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL!” 
“I ASSUMED YOU DID!” 
“SORRY, MOONY!” 
“IT’S OK, PRONGS!” Remus joined in, a bit embarrassed. “I’ll go without.” He said, 
“It’s not that cold.” 
“Have mine,” Sirius shrugged, tossing his head again, still eyeing himself in the 
mirror, “I don’t want to muck up my hair, anyway, “​Accio​ hat.” 
Sirius’s red woollen hat, emblazoned with a Gryffindor lion came shooting out of the 
rubbish tip he called a bedroom, and Remus grabbed it from the air and rammed it down on 
his head. 
“Ok. Let’s go!” 
“Finally!” James met them at the bottom of the stairs, where he had been waiting for a 
good half an hour now. 
“Where’s Wormtail?” 

371 

“Sent an owl, doesn’t feel like it, apparently. Grumpy git.” 
“Yeah, well for once I don’t blame him for not wanting to floo to London on a winter’s 
day just to see you and Evans snog.” Sirius teased. 
“That’s not a​ ll​ we do!” James’s ears turned red. “Anyway, if that’s true, why are you 
and Moony coming?” 
“I want some new books and he’s a voyeur.” Remus shrugged. “C’mon, let’s go, shall 
we?” 

Remus remembered to keep his eyes and mouth closed this time, and liked to think 
that he arrived in the fireplace of The Leaky Cauldron with some dignity, even if he ​had 
tripped over the cast iron grate. Luckily, he stumbled straight into Lily’s arms, as she had 
been anxiously awaiting their arrival. 

“Oof!” She yelped, staggering but just about keeping upright. “Hiya, Remus!” 

“Hi,” he laughed, getting his own balance, “My hero!” 
“Too late, Prongs,” Sirius said, brushing himself off, as he stepped neatly over the 
grate, “You’ve lost her to a better man already.” 
“It was inevitable, I suppose.” James grinned, following him out. Lily let go of Remus 
immediately and flung herself at James, who looked thrilled to bits. 
They managed to find a table to sit at in the crowded pub, and ordered four 
butterbeers. 
“Busy, isn’t it!” Remus said, raising his voice over the din as he pushed through the 
throngs of shoppers with the drinks. 
“Sales,” Lily said, casually, “Oxford Street’s just as bad, I was there with Mum this 
morning.” 

“Anyone here we know?” Sirius asked, raising his head to look about at the faces, 

“Um… not really… Ooh, er, I did see Frank, earlier – do you remember Frank 
Longbottom? He was Head Boy in our first year.” Lily said, before ducking her head and 
focusing on her drink – and James’s hand, which was on her hip and snaking slowly 
underneath her green wool jumper. 

Once they had finished their drinks, they were all keen to get out of the noisy, 
overwarm pub and into the fresh air. The street, however, was just as packed. It seemed to 
Remus that the entire wizard population of Britain must be crammed into these few 
crooked streets, all wrapped up in heavy winter robes, carrying bags and baskets and boxes, 
cheerily wishing each other merry Christmas or else rudely barging through the hustle and 
bustle to get to the shop they wanted. 

“Try to stay together!” James threw over his shoulder at Sirius and Remus, before 
promptly disappearing into the throng with Lily. 

“Let’s just do our shopping and find them later,” Sirius huffed, put out. “Did you say 
you wanted books?” 

“Yeah,” Remus nodded, distracted. “Can you smell that?” 
“Smell what?” Sirius asked, pulling Remus’s robe in the direction of Flourish & Blott’s. 
Remus followed, but sniffed the air again. The trouble was, it was so hard to describe a 

372 

scent – even to Sirius, whose own canine attributes sometimes surfaced even when he was 
in human form. 

“I dunno.” He said, lamely, “Just smells different than last time. The magic. It’s 
probably just all these people.” 

“You can ​smell​ magic?!” 
“Oh. Yeah, I can.” 
“Bloody hell.” 
The bookshop was manic, but Remus didn’t mind. He would have been content to 
wander the shelves all day, row by row, picking through and reading blurbs and stroking 
covers. He was having the best afternoon he’d had in ages, until he was interrupted. 
“Well, well. Look who it is.” Remus looked up, and saw Snape standing only a few 
meters away. He reeked of sliver, so Remus stayed back. 
“What do you want, Snivellus?” He tutted, pretending to be unconcerned, returning to 
the book he was looking at. 
“You and your little band of delinquents might think you own the school, L​ oony 
Lupin,​ ” Severus tutted, “But you do not have any claim on Diagon Alley. I’m allowed to shop 
wherever I like.” 
“Well. Piss off and shop, then.” Remus shrugged, turning away. He was starting to feel 
sick, and he wanted Snape and whatever he was hiding under his robes ​gone​. 
“You’re in my way.” Snape narrowed his cold black eyes. He began to advance on 
Remus, reaching over his shoulder for a book on potions. Remus’s hands began to shake, so 
he put his book down and moved away, shoving his hands inside his pockets. Where was 
Sirius? 
“Feeling all right, Loony?” Snape smiled maliciously. 
“What are you ​doing​ with that much silver on you, you freak?” Remus choked, leaning 
back on the bookcase behind him, his eyes watering. 
“One can’t be too careful.” Snape purred. “You get all sorts, ‘round here.” 
“All right, Snivellus?” Sirius’s voice came from just behind them. Remus sighed with 
relief as Snape reeled back, looking as though he’d been caught stealing. Sirius stepped out 
from behind the bookcase, arms folded, “Get lost on the way to Knockturn Alley, did you? 
Or maybe just in town for your annual hair wash?” 
“Fuck off, Black.” 
“Oh, please, after you,” Sirius made a sweeping bow, allowing Severus to stalk off, 
mumbling darkly to himself. Remus chuckled, weakly. 
“Thanks,” he said. 
“You ok?” 
Hm. Better not to worry him, about the silver. Probably just Snape being his usual 
revolting self. 
“Fine.” Remus smiled. “Come on, let’s go and find the others, shall we?” 
“Don’t you want to buy your books?” 

373 

“Nah,” Remus shook his head, “I just wanted to make a note of the names, see if Pince 
will order them into the school library for me. Free, that way.” 

“Fair enough. C’mon then, mad in here.” 
They had to push most of their way outside, and once they were out, Remus needed a 
breather, and had to lean against the wall in the alleyway beside the shop. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?!” Sirius asked, tugging at a lock of his long hair, anxiously. 
“Fine!” Remus breathed, nodding again. The sickly feeling was receding, now, he just 
needed a minute. “Just the moon, probably. Still tired.” 

“What did Snivellus want?” 
“Oh, the usual nonsense,” Remus screwed up his face, “I don’t think he meant to 
bump into me. What’s Knockturn Alley?” 
“Over there,” Sirius nodded across the street to another alleyway, slightly wider than 
the one they were standing in, which clearly led to more shops. “It’s where the dodgier 
types hang out. Dark wizards, banshees in disguise, vampires. That sort of thing.” 
“Oh.” And werewolves. Remus knew this instantly. There was a very faint scent, now 
he knew what to look for. Someone who had been there recently. Not Livia. 
“James’s dad was telling me they’re planning a raid on some of the shops down there 
in the New Year – reckon they’re stocking illegal supplies. Bet you anything it’s where 
Snivellus snuck off to.” 
Remus stared at Knockturn Alley for a while, as he caught his breath. Whatever the 
strange new scent was, it was coming from there. He’d smelled something like it before; 
from Moody. Dark Magic – burnt around the edges, charred flesh. He shivered. 

“Quality Quidditch Supplies?” He suggested, “If James is anywhere he’ll be there,” 

“Good shout!” Sirius nodded, “Let’s go then.” 

They left the shadowy alleyway, and stepped out into the bright winter sunshine. It 
hadn’t snowed this year, but it was still bitterly cold, and the sky was clear, making the air 
fresh and crisp with energy. As they crossed the road, slowly past the gaggles of witches 
shopping with their children, the wizards stopping to pass the time of day, and house elves 
running errands for their masters, the energy seemed to change, slightly. It made the hairs 
on Remus’s stand up neck, like the arrival of a predator. He tensed, and looked around. He 
caught sight of Lily and James looking at the latest broom in the window of Quality 
Quidditch Supplies. He was about to turn and get Sirius’s attention, when it happened. 

BANG 
The front of The Leaky Cauldron exploded in a plume of thick, blood red smoke, 
bricks and wood and glass flying out into the street. There was barely a microsecond of 
stunned silence before the screams started, wails of pain and terror and shock. The chaos 
around them seemed to expand and contract, like a crashing wave. 

CRACK CRACK CRACK, people were apparating around them – many were leaving, 
but a few were arriving, too. These were the ones that made something deep inside Remus 
want to start growling. 

BANG 

374 

Another shop, further up the street exploded too, then another, and… 
“Get down!” Sirius full-body tackled Remus to the ground, and they both covered their 
faces as Quality Quidditch Supplies went up in smoke. 

  

375 

ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY-FIVE 

Seventh Year: Christmas Part 2 

 
The ground shook, and Remus squeezed his eyes shut, belly down on the cobblestones. 
Everything after that moment – seeing Lily and James’s heads turn, before the building in 
front of them exploded – everything after that made so little sense. It was all too slow, or 
too fast, and Remus found he did not react in his usual way – he was weak, frightened, his 
comprehension muddled. He felt stunned. 
They raised their heads – he and Sirius – much too long after it had gone quiet, when 
people around them were already standing up, and were shouting, or crying. Someone was 
definitely crying, a woman. That seemed loudest of all. And someone laughing, too, a thin, 
razor sharp cackle in the distance, pure joy. 

Diagon Alley looked like a bomb site. The shops which had been destroyed were like 
broken teeth in a gaping maw; strange blue patches of sky where something else should be. 
It was hard to see much on ground level, but they squinted through the settling dust further 
down the street towards Gringotts, where most of the noise seemed to be coming from, 

“You two!” A woman hissed, coming towards them from behind, picking through the 
rubble, her wand raised, “Get back! Behind me!” She stalked ahead. Her robes were deep 
maroon, an auror’s uniform. 

“James!” Sirius choked, his voice strange and strangled with terror. He scrambled to 
his feet, his robes all dusty and his hair full of soot. He half ran, half stumbled, towards the 
hole in the sky where the quidditch supply shop had stood, minutes before. 

“Sirius no…” Remus coughed, weakly, following him, feeling stupid and heavy. 
“James!?” Sirius was shouting, but so many people were shouting. 

“Sirius!” Remus coughed again, trying hard to keep up, but he’d bruised his hip when 
he’d hit the ground, and his ears were still ringing, and his eyes were starting to go blurry 
as he wiped away tears with dusty wrists. “Sirius—” 

“MUDBLOODS OUT!” 
Remus dropped to his knees, covering his ears, and he was not the only one. The voice 
seemed to be right behind him – inside his head, it was everywhere. The crowd was silent, 
finally, as everyone stared around, blinking, looking for the owner of the horrible, insidious 
voice. 

Whatever was going on, it was happening further away – Remus could smell magic 
now, and see beams of light firing through the dust cloud surrounding Gringotts. He could 
smell Moody, and… Ferox? Maybe him. And the death eaters. Some of them he recognised, 
others he didn’t – but they were there, and there were a lot of them. Where was Sirius? The 
ruins of the shop which had stood before them was still bleeding smoke, and Sirius had 
wandered straight into it, the idiot. 

Gritting his teeth, and with not a little pain, Remus pushed himself to his feet again. 
He had to find them. 

376 

The shouts of battle were getting louder, more desperate; the woman who had ordered 
him and Sirius back had joined in, and Remus’s conscience told him he ought to go and 
help. But James, and Lily, and Sirius… 

“​Morsmorde!​ ” The same voice spoke, close and far away. 
The smoke filling the street seemed to writhe and darken, expanding and swirling 
upwards to form an enormous snake entwined with a screaming, hollow eyed black skull. 
“It’s him!” A man near Remus shouted, “It’s you know who!” 
“​Silencio!​ ” Someone else hexed him into quiet. An odd stillness, more flashes – blue, 
green, yellow, red, and then… 
CRACK CRACK CRACK, they were getting away! 
For the first time, Remus thought to withdraw his wand, fumbling about in his 
borrowed robes for it. As he did, his fingers brushed against something else – smooth and 
heavy. His fingers closed around his pocket watch and he wrenched it out, prising it open 
quickly and saying aloud, 
“Sirius Black.” 
The needle did not even wobble, but pointed forward immediately, and Remus 
followed it towards the ruin of the shop. “Sirius?! Sirius?!” 
“Moony!” A hand grabbed his shoulder and he whipped around desperately. 
“James!” 
James hugged him, fiercely, and Remus didn’t even think about how unusual it was, he 
was just so, so grateful, and relieved, he hugged him back. Lily appeared at his shoulder, 
pale faced, her hair falling out of its ponytail, clothes smudged with ash. There was a cut 
just under her hairline, dark blood oozing down into her left eyebrow. And Sirius, too, t​ hank 
god thank god thank god. 
“I lost you.” Remus said, hoarsely, once James let him go. One of the lenses in his 
glasses was shattered. 
“I’m sorry.” Sirius said, sounding just as awful. 
“We’d better go and help,” James said, shaking both their shoulders, “The battle’s—” 
“Finished.” Remus said. “They ran away. Disapparated, most of them. How did you 
two…” he stared at Lily and James, still not quite believing his eyes. 
“Frank.” Lily said, sounding much smaller than Remus had ever heard her. James 
wrapped an arm around her. “Frank’s an auror. He used a knock-back jinx on us, right 
before the shop was hit, then ​protego,​ I think. I didn’t… I didn’t know what to do.” Her eyes 
filled with tears, and James wrapped his other arm around her, enveloping her completely. 
“I didn’t, either.” Remus said, as if it would help. “Didn’t even get my wand out.” 
Sirius was gripping his, though. He looked dreadful; fierce as a demon, eyes full of 
hatred, 
“I’m going anyway. They might still need help.” He said. 
Remus grabbed him by the shoulders, surprising even himself with his strength. 

377 

“Don’t. You. Dare.” He growled, meeting Sirius’s eye. Something distinctly canine 
passed between them, then, and Remus almost thought they were going to actually fight, 
and that it would be sort of a relief if they did. But of course, James intervened. 

“Moony’s right,” he said, “We ought to—” 
CRACK 
“Boys!” 
“Dad!” 
Fleamont Potter had arrived right next to James. He grabbed his son, then Sirius, then 
Remus – who had recovered enough now to find the hugging all a bit much – and then 
stared with horror at what remained of Diagon Alley. His bushy eyebrows knit, and he 
addressed his son, 
“Are you all ok? Your mother wants you back at the house immediately, she’s been 
called to St. Mungo’s, otherwise she’d be here.” 
“Shouldn’t we stay and help?” James asked, looking troubled, still holding Lily tightly 
to his chest. ​What a bloody hero​, Remus thought. He still had Sirius by the shoulders, 
gripping him hard because he couldn’t hug him. 
Fleamont looked at James and seemed to grow a few inches with pride. He smiled, 
“No, son, it’s all in hand – Moody’s there, and Dumbledore’s on his way. I just want 
you all home and safe, before anything—” 
“No one is to leave!” A man was shouting, cutting through the crowd and the rubble 
with an authoritative stride. “Not until they have been questioned by—oh, hello Monty. 
Didn’t know you were here.” 
“Amos,” Mr Potter nodded at the ministry official. “Got here as soon as I could. 
Taking the boys home, they were out shopping and got caught up.” 
“That so?” The official – Amos – came over to look at them all. “Names?” 
“Amos, is that really necc—” 
“Names?” He repeated, in a harder tone. 
“Well you ​know​ James, you’ve known him since he was five, for goodness sake…” 
Fleamont tutted, “And this is Miss Evans, I presume?” He glanced at Lily, who had stopped 
crying, but still looked very frightened. 
“Yes.” She squeaked. “Lily Evans.” 
“Evans?” Amos looked thoughtful. He pulled some parchment out of his pocket, 
“Evans, Evans… Parents names?” 
“You wouldn’t know them.” She said, her eyes darting between James and the official, 
“I’m muggleborn.” 
Amos looked down his nose at her again, then eyed James with a rude quirk of his 
eyebrow. 
“I see. Very well. And you two? Oh hoho! I know y​ ou!​ You’re the Black heir!” 
“Was.” Sirius muttered. He shook himself free of Remus and shoved his hands in his 
pockets, adopting a sullen, irritable attitude which always appeared when his family was 

378 

mentioned. Remus wished he could tell him not to do that. It didn’t make him look any less 
guilty. 

“He’s coming home with us, too.” Fleamont said, quickly. “Sirius has lived with us for 
well over a year now, and—” 

“Come come, Monty,” Amos tutted, “The Black heir? I’m not stupid, and neither are 
you. He’ll have to be questioned.” 

“Absolutely not.” Fleamont raised his voice. Remus had never heard him shout before 
– it was even more terrifying than a dark mark. “They’re school kids, for godric’s sake!” 

“Plenty of school kids on ​their side​ too, from what I hear.” Amos said, “Plenty of 
Black’s, too.” 

“I’m not interested in that. You can speak with Dumbledore if you have to, but I am 
responsible for these boys and I am taking them all home right now.” 

“What about you?” Amos suddenly turned on Remus, who blinked. Sometimes he 
forgot that the Potters included him in their responsibilities. 

“R-Remus.” He said, trying to be brave, but failing miserably. ​What if this man knows 
something? What if he knows I’m a werewolf?​ “Lupin.” 

“Hmph.” Amos made a note, but asked no further questions. “You’re all to wait here 
while I speak with Dumbledore.” He said, pompously. 

“Like hell we will.” Fleamont snorted, “If you want to go and interrupt Albus 
Dumbledore while he assists in the investigation of a terrorist attack for the sake of a few 
frightened teenagers, then—” 

“Amos!” Someone – was it really ​Frank​? – shouted from the distance, “Where the hell 
are you, we need you up here – it’s Leo!” 

The official turned, sharply, and with a reluctant final glance at Sirius, he ran towards 
the voice. Mr Potter leapt into action, taking no chances, 

“Quick, boys – are you all ok to apparate? Miss Evans, probably best you come with us 
for now?” 

Lily nodded, and James kissed her, before they both disapparated together, hand in 
hand. Fleamont nodded at Sirius and Remus, before vanishing with a loud CRACK himself. 
Remus looked at Sirius. Sirius looked at him too, still angry, still full of a hot desire for 
revenge. 

“Oh no.” Remus said, firmly, then, barely even thinking about it, grabbed Sirius’s 
elbow, hard, and prepared to apparate with him. 

Sirius fought it, mid-turn – the stupid fool could easily have splinched them, as he 
strained against Remus’s spell, wanting only to stay where the fight was. But Remus was 
stronger – the air was full of fizzing, roaring leftover magic, and Remus drank from it, 
overpowering Sirius with the sheer weight of his own determination. 

They arrived on the Potter’s front porch with such force their heads banged together, 
and they wrenched apart, panting, feeling scorched. 

“Fucking hell, Moony!” Sirius gasped, rubbing his elbow where Remus had grabbed 
him. 

379 

“Had to… stop you… idiot…” Remus bent forward, hands on his knees. He felt 
completely drained, but buzzing with it; nerves alight with static. 

James opened the door, 
“Get inside,” he said, “Quickly.” 
Sirius pushed past Remus without looking at him. 
Lily stayed for another hour or so, drinking cup after cup of tea, as Gully scuttled back 
and forth from the kitchen, wringing his little wizened hands and shaking his head 
woefully. Mr Potter apologised profusely to Lily, and hoped they would meet again soon 
under better circumstances – before locking himself away in his study. After that they sat in 
silence for most of the time; with only the occasional outburst from James or Sirius. 
“Snape!” Sirius ranted, pacing back and forth, “We saw him in the bookshop, he 
threatened Moony – he must have had something to do with it!” 
“You don’t know that.” Lily said, shakily, staring at the pattern of her teacup. 
“Did anyone see any of them, though?!” 
“No.” James shook his head. “Too busy trying to take cover.” 
“No.” Lily shook her head. 
“No…” Remus said. Sirius looked up at him, 
“Moony. You smelled something. You told me, remember? Do you know who—” 
“Remus you can s​ mell​ people?!” Lily looked up, half shocked, half curious. “Like a 
scent?​ ” 
“Not like… it’s just a… a wolf thing. Instinct. But I didn’t. I don’t…” Remus wished the 
ground would swallow him up. 
He could tell them. But he didn’t want to break it to Sirius like this; not while they 
were furious at each other, and frightened, and Lily and James were sitting right there. 
“Moony.” Sirius said, in a very low, dark voice that none of them had ever heard 
before. “Tell me. Who?” 
Remus looked at James, desperately for help, but he was just staring back, waiting. 
Lily too, her mouth slightly open. He looked at Sirius again, and tried to hold his stare. 
“I think Regulus was there. But l​ ots​ of people where there Sirius—” 
Sirius threw his hands up and left the room in utter silence. Lily gave a very tired sigh. 
“James,” she said, “I think I had better go home. Mum and Dad will wonder.” 
James insisted on apparating back with Lily, then returning by himself. Remus wished 
he hadn’t. He didn’t want to be left alone. Alone, it all came flooding back into his mind, as 
vivid as a cinema screen. The noise, the smoke, the utter terror. And shame. He had not 
acted. His first chance to prove to Dumbledore, and Moody, and even S​ nivellus,​ that he was 
on the right side, and willing to fight for it. But he had never expected it to be like that. Had 
never considered that when the time came, and you were on a battlefield with the only 
people you love in the world – all he’d wanted to do was find them, and run away. 
When James returned, he found Remus pacing, treading the same stretch of carpet 
Sirius had been earlier. 

380 

“Are you ok, Moony?” He asked, nervously, taking slow steps forward, arms up, as if 
Remus was an untamed beast. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Remus muttered, still pacing. “I just… I couldn’t move. I 
couldn’t think.” 

“Remus…” James kept speaking in that steady, friendly tone. It was more soothing 
than Remus wanted to admit. “Nobody could. It was horrible; it’s the scariest thing that 
ever happened.” 

Remus stopped dead, and stared at James. He gave a half smile and shrugged, “None of 
us knew what to do.” 

“Sirius did.” Remus challenged. “He was the one who got up. He wanted to help…” 
“Sirius never t​ hinks​ though, Moony, you know that.” 
“Oi, up yours, Potter.” Sirius suddenly appeared in the doorway, arms folded. His eyes 
were a bit pink, but he didn’t look angry any more. Remus smiled at him, hopefully, behind 
James’s back. Sirius smiled back, reassuringly. 
“I was ​going​ to say,” James laughed, “That’s what makes you so b​ rave​, you wanker. You 
just want to rush in and help, even if it’s the worst idea in the world.” 
“Yes, ok, it was not a good idea.” Sirius said, sitting down on the sofa, beside James. 
“At least you d​ id​ something.” Remus said, “At least you g​ ot up.​ ” 
“You got up, too, Remus.” Sirius said, softly. 
“After you did!” Remus shot back, “I was pathetic, I was… how are we ever going to 
win this war if it’s going to be like that?! If I’m too scared to…” 
“I was scared too.” Sirius said, looking up. “I’m not t​ hat​ bonkers. I was still bricking it, 
I mean. Fucking hell.” 
“Don’t.” James said, running his hand through his hair, still gritty with rubble. “It 
took me so long to even figure out what happened – and all I could think about was getting 
Lily somewhere safe. I thought I would just do anything to make sure she was safe.” 
“There you are then.” Sirius said, firmly. “That’s how we win it.” 

* * * 
Mrs Potter did not come back from St Mungo’s all night, but Fleamont stepped out of 
his office to tell the boys he had spoken to her, and that she was all right, before asking 
Gully to make him a sandwich and closing the door again. 
Peter came over, white and shaking – he had heard the news, apparently he had a 
cousin working for T​ he Daily Prophet.​ There was no useful information though. No death 
count yet, it hadn’t been finalised. Peter stayed for supper, but James was the only one 
really able to keep up a proper conversation, and eventually Peter left. When Remus 
announced he wanted an early night, the other two shrugged and agreed to go up too. 
After showering and washing the dust and smoke out of his hair, he brushed his teeth 
in the cold quiet bathroom and tried not to think about how odd it felt to be doing such 
normal things on such an abnormal day. He could hear Sirius and James murmuring quietly 
in the next room, solemn, tense tones. He decided to leave them to it. 

381 

Hours later, Remus was seriously regretting that decision. He couldn’t sleep. He 
waited and waited for Sirius to come, until he realised that he must still be in with James, 
and might not come at all. Remus lay on his back and tried to keep his thoughts from 
getting too loud. T​ his is war​, he kept thinking. ​This is what you agreed to do. You promised 
Dumbledore. You promised your friends. 

Finally, in the small hours, when he was sick from tiredness and the first pink rays of 
sunrise were peeking around the curtains, his door opened. Sirius crept across the room 
with the stealth of a cat. 

“Remus?” He whispered from the foot of the bed. Remus rolled over. 
“I’m here.” 
Sirius practically flew at him, sliding in under the covers and burying his head under 
the duvet. They clung to each other, and everything steadied itself. Remus felt was calm at 
last. In a moment, Sirius moved slightly and whispered, 
“Tell me a secret? A nice one?” 
Remus paused. He kissed Sirius’s hair. 
“I’m mental about you, too.” 

  

382 

ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY-SIX 

Seventh Year: Christmas Part 3 

 
Monday 2​nd​ January 1978 

The next week and a half was one of the darkest Remus could remember. When Mrs 
Potter finally arrived home the day after the attack, she was white and drawn, and hugged 
her family so tight, as if she had thought she would never see them again. 

“About fifty dead, so I’ve heard.” She said, solemnly. “I was mostly triage, though. 
Hundreds wounded.” 

“Any… any of us?” Mr Potter asked. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in hours – 
and indeed, as far as Remus knew, he had not been to bed either. 

Euphemia nodded, closing her eyes. 
“Later.” She said, casting a glance at the boys. James looked indignant. 
“We can hear it.” He said. “We’re all of age, a​ nd​ we were there when it happened!” 
“Yes, I know you were!” Mrs Potter shouted, her voice shrill. James’s mouth snapped 
shut and he looked down, ashamed. Mrs Potter got up. “I’m going for a lie down.” 
She left the room, and the men sat in silence. 
“Sorry, dad.” James mumbled. 
“It’s all right.” Fleamont removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 
“We’re all upset. Your mother and I need you boys to listen, and do as you’re told until it’s 
time to go back to school, do you understand?” 
They all nodded, reluctantly, and Remus saw the muscles in Sirius’s jaw tighten. It was 
a mark of his respect for Mr Potter that he did not protest. “Now,” Fleamont continued, 
“This house is going to be very busy for the next few days, and you’re going to see a lot of 
very important people doing very important work. Do not ask too many questions, and do 
not make nuisances of yourselves.” 
“Can’t we help?” James asked, earnestly. 
“Yes.” Fleamont nodded. “By being gracious hosts and minding your mother.” 
“Yes, dad.” James sighed, looking down again, obviously disappointed. 
“James…” Fleamont began, reaching over to touch his son’s arm. 
Remus and Sirius took that as their cue to clear the table, and waited around in the 
kitchen, half-heartedly helping Gully do the washing up. 
“I don’t see what the fuss is about.” Sirius grumbled, elbow deep in soap suds. “If they 
knew half of the things we were capable of – we can actually h​ elp.​ ” 
“We’ll have our chance.” Remus replied, staring out of the window as he dried the 
plates. The garden was very dark, and a chill mist hung in the air, making it difficult to see 
much beyond the patio wall. He could just make out James’s quidditch hoops on the lawn, 
and the dim waning moon. He didn’t like not being able to see very far, it made him uneasy. 

383 

“That’s all right for ​you​ to say.” Sirius was still complaining, “You’ve already proved 
yourself.” 

”What?!” Remus glanced up at him, confused, and momentarily distracted from the 
window. 

“With that werewolf you met, last year. You’ve already faced the enemy and shown 
Dumbledore he can trust you.” 

“I don’t think I explained that properly, if that’s what you think…” Remus said. “Livia 
wasn’t… it wasn’t about the war.” 

“Dumbledore thinks it was. Moody does. They talk about the werewolves all the time – 
how useful you’ll be trying to convince the dark creatures not to join y​ ou know who​.” 

“Can we talk about something else?” 
“Fine.” 
They talked about nothing. They did the dishes in complete silence. Remus stared out 
of the window into the blackness of the Potter grounds and looked for… something. 
Finally, James came in, just as they finished putting away the last of the china. 
“All right, mate?” Sirius asked, cheerily. 
“Yeah,” James shrugged, looking somehow wiser; older. “Just dad stuff, y’know.” 
Sirius and Remus glanced at each other, and Remus knew they were both experiencing 
the same sour envy. What did it mean to have a father like Fleamont Potter? To have one at 
all? 
“I said I’d give Lily a ring, if you two fancied a walk into the village?” 
“Why not.” Sirius said, leaving the dish rag over the tap. 
“Oh, Moony, dad said to give you this?” James handed over a small scroll of paper. 
Remus opened it quickly, glancing over the neat name and address written there. James 
cocked his head, curious, 
“What is it?” 
“Oh nothing. Book I was asking about.” Remus stuffed it in his pocket. “C’mon. Calls 
are cheaper after six.” 
James had finally learnt how to use the phone box unaided, so there was nothing for 
Remus to do but lean against the fence next to Sirius, waiting. He rolled cigarettes to pass 
the time; he’d cut the fingers off his gloves back in November for explicitly this purpose. 
“I didn’t mean you.” Sirius said, quietly. “When I said dark creatures.” 
“I know you didn’t.” Remus licked the rizla then smoothed it down. He handed the 
completed cigarette to Sirius, who took it and put it behind his ear. Remus began another 
one. 
“Got to teach me how to do that one day.” Sirius murmured, watching him 
appreciatively. “I bet we could work out a spell to do it instantly.” 
“Probably,” Remus sighed, lining up tobacco. “But I like doing it this way.” 
“Fair enough.” 

384 

They were quiet again. Remus finished his second one and held it between his thumb 
and forefinger, wondering whether or not to smoke it. Mrs Potter didn’t like the smell on 
them, and he hated to add to her troubles. But on the other hand, he could really use 
something to calm his nerves. Sirius could too, if the constant tapping of his leg was 
anything to go by. He was chewing his fingernails, too. 

Remus lit the cigarette with a snap of his fingers, and inhaled. Sirius followed suit. His 
leg stilled. 

“I am, though.” Remus said, on an exhale. 
“What?” 
“A dark creature, like you said.” 
“Moony, no…” 
“Yep,” Remus nodded, gazing out at the fields before them, and the motorway behind 
that. “So when you talk about wanting to prove yourself, I ​do​ understand what you mean. 
People trust werewolves just about as much as they trust the disgraced sons of dark 
wizards.” 
“I do know. I didn’t mean to act like…” 
“Like you’re the only one with a stake in this war?” 
“Yeah, like that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” 
“I know,” Remus smiled, looking at him, finally. “I’m sorry about Regulus.” 
“Well.” Sirius scuffed his feet in the gravel, “I already knew, pretty much. Of course he 
was there.” 
“I’m going to work so hard on this Slytherin prank when we get back to school. It’ll be 
my best work.” 
Sirius laughed, an honest, abandoned noise, throwing his head back. 
“Godric, Moony.” He grinned broadly, “When you say things like that it makes me 
want to snog your face off.” 
“Ha,” Remus snorted. He shot a look at James, inside the red phone box, jabbering 
away with a huge smile on his face, “Maybe not ​just​ yet…” 
Sirius looked mournful again, 
“I’m going to tell him, just not with all this bad stuff going on, you know?” 
“I know.” Remus nodded. He did. He didn’t want Sirius to know it, but the idea of 
James finally finding out about them was much scarier than he had prepared himself for. 
Why shake everyone up again? 
“Remus? If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?” 
“Ok.” His stomach clenched involuntary, but he steeled himself. 
“What was the note from James’s dad? It wasn’t a book title, was it?” 
“No.” Remus agreed, “It wasn’t.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled it out, 
thumbing the soft, thick parchment for a moment before handing it over to Sirius. 
Sirius unfolded it quickly and looked down. 
“Hope Jenkins?” He read, a crease in his brow, “What does that mean?” 

385 

“It’s a name.” Remus said, quickly, “My mother’s name. And address.” 
“Oh!” Sirius breathed, re-reading it, still frowning. “Your ​mother.​ ” He said the word as 
if he had never even considered the possibility that Remus had such a thing. 
“Yeah,” Remus took the parchment back, shoving it back into his pocket. “I know we 
said we would talk about anything but mothers, but. Well. Dumbledore gave me a letter 
she’d written me, back after Lyall died. She said I could try to find her, when I was of age, 
so… Mr Potter found her, I s’pose.” 

“What are you going to do with it? Write to her?” 
“Yeah I think I will.” 

Sirius moved his hand on the fence, subtly brushing Remus’s fingers. 

“Well. I hope you find her.” 

* * * 
Mr Potter had been right – for the next few days, the house was busier than Remus had 
seen it since the Christmas party of ’73. Except, of course, there was very little cheer. These 
were the people closest to Dumbledore – many of them were working for the ministry, but 
all of them were loyal to him before anything else. They were the front line in the war 
effort. 
Some of them were familiar faces – Moody, of course, who usually spared the time to 
cast a gruff nod at the three teenaged boys who were now spending their days watching the 
fireplace for new arrivals. Then there was Frank Longbottom himself, just as pleasant and 
good natured as Remus remembered. He came through most often with his girlfriend, 
Alice, the young woman who had ushered Sirius and Remus back on the day of the attack. 
The Prewett twins were another surprise – James and Sirius were falling over 
themselves to catch up with them, and share every nefarious act they had committed at 
Hogwarts since the older boys’ departure. They had both grown very handsome, broad 
shouldered and rougher round the edges from a few adventures – but they still had their 
same easy tempers and wicked sense of humour. Often they brought their red-haired sister, 
and her equally flame-haired husband. 
All of these guests only stopped to chat a few moments to James, Remus and Sirius, 
before vanishing into Mr Potter’s study, or else heading out into the garden to apparate 
(apparently Moody had placed a charm over the Potters’ house making it not only 
unplottable, but impossible to place an apparition trace on). As a consequence, the living 
room and entrance hall began to feel very much like platform 9 ¾. 
In the evening’s, Mrs Potter would come home, looking worn out and determined. She 
would still have a smile for everyone, and be ready to host whoever was in the house for 
supper. She was nothing sort of spectacular. 
The night before the boys were expected to return to Hogwarts, Moody, Frank and 
Alice were joining them for dinner – beef stew with dumplings. They were having a very 
pleasant evening, Frank and Remus were having a very intense discussion about defensive 
charms, and Alice and the boys (including Fleamont) were arguing over which quidditch 
team was going to win the league. 

To Remus’s left, Moody leaned over to address Mrs Potter, and whispered, 

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“I hear Ferox is getting out, tomorrow?” 
“Getting out?!” Remus spun around, cutting frank off mid-flow, “Getting out of 
where?” 
Moody raised an eyebrow, making his eerie magical eye bulge grotesquely, 
“Bloody good hearing you’ve got, lad. Make a good auror.” 
Remus shook his head impatiently, 
“Professor Ferox?”   
“Yes, dear,” Euphemia explained, calmly, “Leo Ferox was injured in the attack on 
Diagon Alley. He’s now stable, and will be going to stay with his grandmother for a while to 
recuperate fully. I’m sorry, I quite forgot he taught at Hogwarts, did you know him well?” 
“Sort of. He was my favourite teacher,” Remus said, his insides churning. “Is he… what 
happened? Was he in one of the shops?” 
“He was on the ground, in the battle with us,” Frank said, “He was in the thick of it, 
you couldn’t fault his technique, he was firing spells better than anyone, but we all get 
unlucky sometimes.” 
“But he’ll be all right?” Remus put down his fork now, he wasn’t going to eat any 
more. 
“With proper rest.” Mrs Potter nodded, smiling wanly. 
All of the terror Remus had been trying to ignore for the past few days came crashing 
back. He gripped the seat of his chair and stared at his plate and thought about Ferox, lying 
unconscious in the rubble. A good, strong man like that, shot down. Remus felt a stab of 
angry defiance in his gut, sharpening his focus. He was going to do better, no matter what 
it took. He was going to be quicker; braver. The next time the battle came to him, he would 
be ready. 

  

387 

ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY-SEVEN 

Seventh Year: Responsibilities 

 

Monday 9th January 1978 
Remus wrote three letters on his last night before school that Christmas break. Two 

would need a muggle stamp, and were to be posted into the red Royal Mail pillar box at the 
end of the road before they left for King’s Cross. The second could wait until he got to 
Hogwarts, and could use one of the school owls. 

The first was to Hope: 

Dear Ms. Jenkins, 

My name is Remus Lupin. My father was Lyall Lupin, and I believe I am your son. 
I am now seventeen years old. I was given a letter written by you in 1965. I hope that you do 
not mind my writing to you. If you would like to write back, I would like that very much. 

Yours Sincerely, 

Remus John Lupin. 
(He thought he had better sign off with his full name, though he would be very 
surprised if there was another Remus Lupin living in Britain. He also thought it best to 
keep it short and to the point. She would appreciate that, maybe, if she chose to ignore the 
letter.) 

The second letter was to Grant. 
Dear Grant, 

I hope you had a nice Christmas. I wish I could have come to visit, but I stayed with my 
friend’s family and it’s hard to get away. 

I hope you’re all right. How’s the job going? Have you saved up for a flat, yet? I’ll have to start 
thinking about that soon. It’s my last term of school, ever, and by June I will be living in the real 
world. I hope I can see you then. 

Please write back as soon as you can, and let me know how you are doing. 

Yours, Remus. 
(He didn’t want to put ‘yours sincerely’, because it seemed silly and over-formal. He 
didn’t want to put ‘love’, because that seemed very extreme. So in the end, ‘yours’, seemed 
the simplest, and most honest way to put it.) 
“So it’s just the Ferox letter still to post, then?” Sirius asked, as they took their seat in 
their usual carriage on the Hogwarts Express. They were completely alone – Peter had gone 
in search of Dorcas, who had apparently written him a very steamy letter over the 
Christmas break, while James and Lily had made a beeline for the prefect’s carriage. 
“Just the Ferox one.” Remus nodded, patting his pocket. Sirius sat on the same bench 
as him, reclining back and stretching his legs out in Remus’s lap, arms folded behind his 
head. Remus snorted indulgently, “Make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.” 
“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius grinned wickedly. “So.” He said, “Which letter are you 
most looking forward to getting a reply from?” 

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“Which reply am I m​ ost​ looking forward to?” Remus quirked an eyebrow dryly, “You 
mean between my battle-wounded ex-teacher, my young-offender ex-boyfriend or the 
mother who abandoned me?” 

“Well, when you put it like ​that​,” Sirius tutted. “Honestly, the amount of stuff you keep 
back.” 

“Would you rather I was whinging all the time?” Remus sighed, opening the book he’d 
brought for the journey on top of Sirius’s legs. 

“No,” Sirius mused, staring up at the carriage ceiling thoughtfully. “But, I mean. If you 
didn’t have me to talk to about this stuff, I’d be worried your head would explode.” 

“It would not e​ xplode​, thank you very much,” Remus slapped his knee lightly with the 
orange-covered penguin paperback. “You’re so dramatic. I coped perfectly well before you 
decided to involve yourself.” 

“How?!” 
“Well.” Remus chewed his lip, “I er… you’ll think it’s stupid.” 
“What?” 
“I… make lists, in my head. Benefits and losses. And sometimes I have pretend 
conversations, you know, to help me work through a problem…” 
“Bloody hell, Moony,” Sirius sat up, spluttering. “You complete nutter.” 
Remus laughed, 
“Yeah, ok. Maybe a bit mental.” 
Sirius slid his feet off Remus’s lap and sidled up to him on the seat, 
“Ever had an imaginary conversation with me?” 
“No!” Remus replied, closing his eyes as he felt Sirius’ s breath on his neck. “I only 
have imaginary conversations with sensible people.” 
“Well maybe that's where you’re going wrong…” Sirius began to kiss Remus, very 
lightly just behind his earlobe. Remus squirmed, the book dropped to the carriage floor. 
Suddenly, the door began to rattle open, and giggles could be heard in the corridor. 
Sirius and Remus leapt apart just as Marlene and another girl stumbled inside, 
“Oh!” Marlene’s eyes widened in surprise, cheeks turning pink, “Thought this car was 
empty…” 
“Nope,” Sirius leaned back, looking amused. He was eyeing Marlene with a very 
wicked glint in his eye. He winked at the girl coming in behind her, a tall, dark haired sixth 
year Remus thought he vaguely recognised. “Patel.” Sirius nodded. 
Oh god,​ Remus thought to himself, co​ uld Sirius possibly have old conquests I don’t even 
know about?! 
“Remus, have you met Yasmin?” Marlene asked, taking a seat opposite him, “She's the 
new Keeper.” 
“Oh, right, hiya.” Remus nodded, giving an awkward wave. 
“No Mary?” Sirius was raising an eyebrow at Marlene, as if he knew something. 
Remus was just confused and a bit flustered. 

389 

“No Mary.” Yasmin answered, with a similar smirk. 
“She’s talking to one of the Ravenclaw prefects,” Marlene said, quickly, “It’s not as if 
we’re deliberately avoiding her or anything!” Marlene looked… was she b​ lushing?​ ! Why was 
everybody acting so oddly? Remus shifted in his seat, noting the weird atmosphere. 
“Hm.” Sirius said, still smiling at Marlene smugly, “What were y​ ou two​ up to, then?” 
Yasmin tutted, and looked him dead in the eye with a wry smile of her own. 
“Nothing. What were y​ ou two​ up to?” She raised a suggestive eyebrow and Remus 
nearly leapt up with shock. She k​ new?​ ! Just who ​was​ this Yasmin person, then? 
“Nothing!” Sirius sat up straight. 
“Well then.” Marlene shrugged, her face clearing as she settled back in her seat 
looking like she had just won a particularly rewarding game of chess. “We’ll leave it at that, 
then, shall we?” 
“Fine.” Sirius leaned back too, folding his arms. Yasmin giggled, and Remus just 
scratched his head. 
“​What​ are we leaving w​ here?​ ” He asked Sirius, later that evening. They were making 
their way slowly up to the owlery before curfew. He’d eaten a lot at dinner, and was 
somewhat regretting it, now. 
“Moony, really.” Sirius laughed, “Someone as observant as you hasn’t noticed anything 
different about Marlene, lately?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He panted, struggling as always with the 
spiral staircase. 
Remus didn’t want to admit that if he ​was​ observant, it was only Sirius he was 
observing. He typically regarded the girls as a complete mystery, and rarely had any idea 
what was going on with them unless they explicitly told him. Lily and Mary did this more 
often than Marlene, who had always been as private as he was. 
“Oh come ​on,​ Moony,” Sirius laughed, “Marlene and Yaz? Don’t tell me you didn’t see 
- they were all over each other before they realised the carriage wasn’t empty.” 
Remus stopped - partly because he needed a moment to catch his breath, partly 
because he couldn’t believe what Sirius was saying. 
“You mean, ​Marlene​ is…?” 
“Yep.” 
“And ​Yasmin​…” 
“Yep.” 
“Bloody hell.” 
“Yep.” Sirius’s eyes were glittering mischievously. “Can’t believe you hadn’t figured it 
out already!” 
“Well.” Remus huffed. They were nearly at the top, now. “I’m pretty impressed that 
you did.​ Seeing as you apparently had no idea about me, after we’d been shagging for a 
year.” 

390