Chapter Text
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in ‘t!
-The Tempest by William Shakespeare. Act V Scene 1.
When James sidled into a seat on the bench next to Sirius at Breakfast the morning after sorting, a tiny towheaded Gryffindor first-year looked up at him, awestruck.
‘You’re James Potter, aren’t you?’ He said like he was looking at a celebrity. The little girl sitting next to him looked up at the name, too.
Sirius peered through his shaggy fringe at his best friend, who turned pink but looked pleased with the attention. Sirius smirked and took another sip of his coffee as the boy peppered James with questions about Quidditch.
‘Is it true you hold the all-time record for goals scored by a Hufflepuff chaser?’
‘By any Hogwarts Chaser.’ Sirius corrected, throwing an arm around James. ‘Our boy here would be a record-breaker even if he were a Lion.’
James grinned and grabbed a doughnut off Sirius’ plate.
‘Oi!’ Sirius smacked his hand. ‘Don’t they have breakfast at your house table?’
‘They do, but the new Hufflepuffs are all used to me by now. No adoring fans. Gets a bit boring, really.’
Sirius shoved him then. ‘Get a bigger head, wanker.’
‘Pot, meet kettle.’James said as he polished off the doughnut anyway.
‘I mean, I am a Black.’
James rolled his eyes. ‘Truth is,’ He said quietly, ‘I don’t fancy sitting next to Evans this morning.’
Sirius laughed. ‘Are you still obsessed with her? Merlin, Jamie, it’s been five years!’
James glared at him. ‘No, it’s not that. And I was never obsessed. She’s just in an awful mood.’
Sirius glanced over at the Hufflepuff table. It was true. Evans was hunched over her breakfast, casting foul glances at everyone who tried to speak to her. Very un-Evans-like , Sirius thought.
‘Who’s pissed in her pumpkin juice this morning?’
James sighed. ‘Your charming brother.’
Sirius turned to him. ‘What?’
‘Not literally. I guess Regulus said some insensitive things at the prefect meeting yesterday. Nothing openly offensive, you know just….politics. She’s been upset ever since.’
‘Yeah, Reg is insufferable about that shit. No wonder Evans is annoyed.’ Sirius hated talking about politics with his brother. Regulus didn’t openly support Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Neither did their parents. Not yet. But they weren’t exactly championing Muggleborn rights. It was a lot of ‘well he has some great ideas’ and ‘people just don’t like him because he speaks the truth no one else will admit.’ Regulus was always good at being civil, to everyone, even muggle-borns. But Sirius knew internally he at least somewhat agreed with their parents’ views on blood supremacy.
‘They shouldn't have let a fourth year be a Prefect anyway.’ James said. ‘Slughorns’ breaking the rules to please the Blacks, I’m sure of it.’
Sirius shrugged. ‘I guess they couldn’t find any worthwhile Slytherins in our year. Can you imagine? What if they chose Snivellus? Or the short one- what’s his name- Parker?’
‘Peter, I think.’ James said. ‘Anyway, let’s not ruin our morning by talking about Slytherins.’ He pulled his school bag over his shoulder. ‘Ready for our first lesson of the year?’
‘Ugh.’ Sirius groans. ‘Why’d I let you convince me to take Muggle Studies again? I can’t believe I could have had my free period first thing in the morning…’
‘Because it will drive your parents mad,’ James reminded him as they left the Great Hall. Sirius couldn’t help but smile at that.
‘Right-o, old sport.’ Sirius said with mock formality, ‘For we mustn't deign to learn about Muggles. We highly inbred and elegant aristocrats must never even think about things as mundane as a telly phone.’
James snorted a laugh at that, ‘It’s pronounced tel-aye-phone.’ He said, as confident as he was incorrect.
Sirius noticed they were walking by the Slytherin table and nodded at Regulus, wondering if he was bothered by the inbred comment. Not that it wasn’t true. Regulus subtly gave a nod back. That was about the extent of their interactions at Hogwarts.
The wall was decidedly back up.
Remus liked Muggle Studies. He had an advantage, with his Muggle mum, but it was also a genuinely enjoyable class. When you ignored Sirius Black and James Potter making stupid jokes at the back of the room, it was the sort of class you could do well in by paying attention and solving problems. Remus liked that it wasn’t full of spells or complex potion recipes to memorise. He always had a hard time catching up what he’d missed after full moons in his other subjects. But Muggle Studies was more theoretical and discussion-based. They studied Muggle history, debated ethical dilemmas about Wizard-Muggle relations, and even read Muggle literature sometimes.
Those were his favourite weeks, when they studied a novel or a book of poetry to learn more about Muggle culture. The teacher, Professor Weatherfend, was a graduate of the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts. She had acted professionally in the Muggle world for a while, and apparently was even in some fairly successful films. Weatherfend brought that dramatic energy into the classroom, leading lively discussions and reading with different character voices. A lot of the students rolled their eyes at her antics at first, but at least she made the subject interesting.
His first lesson this year was meant to be Muggle Studies, so Remus was extra disappointed to be spending the morning in the hospital wing. He’d begged Poppy Pomfrey to let him go. It hadn’t even been a bad moon, really. But she’d only shaken her head sadly as she changed the dressings on his wounds.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t like the look of that scratch. I need you to rest here at least until tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Tomorrow afternoon!’ Remus would have yelled if it wasn’t Poppy. He never yelled at Poppy. ‘I’ll be three lessons behind by then!’
Poppy patted his arm. ‘Your health is more important than your schoolwork, Remus.’
‘Easy for you to say.’ He mumbled. ‘You haven’t got OWLs hanging over your head.’
He spent the rest of the day in fitful sleep and eventually convinced Poppy to at least let him do some reading. He was just getting to an interesting part in his book when a kind voice interrupted him.
‘We missed you in class today, Mr. Lupin.’
Professor Weatherfend stood at the end of his bed, her tightly coiling brown curls piled on top of her head and wrapped artfully in a many-coloured scarf. She was wearing deep purple robes spangled with gold symbols and so much jewelry that she jangled when she moved.
I must have really been absorbed in what I was doing to not hear her coming. Remus usually listened for people coming when he was in the hospital wing.
‘Professor! I- I’m sorry I missed class.’ His teachers never visited him in hospital. Does she know? Do they all know?
He had always assumed that Dumbledore, Poppy, and McGonagall were the only ones who knew about his lycanthropy. But he supposed the other teachers must have at least some inkling. They certainly never questioned why he was ill so frequently.
Weatherfend waved his apology away with a handful of sparkling rings.
‘No bother. I actually came to ask you for a favour.’
Remus sat up straighter. People didn’t usually ask him for favours. Especially not teachers.
‘I’m wondering if you’d be willing to help me with a project for Muggle Studies this term.’
Intrigued, Remus answered right away: ‘Of course. What do you need?’
‘What’s next on our timetable?’ Peter asked Severus as they walked out of the Great Hall from lunch, wiping at some sauce he’d spilled on his robes.
‘Ugh.’ Severus groaned. ‘Potions.’
Regulus put a hand on Severus’ shoulder, stopping their progress through the corridors.
‘Sev, are you feeling alright? Have you been hexed? Memory wiped? Imperius’d?’
Severus’ eyes grew large with anxiety. ‘I-- I don’t think so, why?’
Regulus smiled. ‘Because you, Severus Snape, just sounded unhappy about a Potions lesson.’
Peter laughed at that. Snape’s nerves eased, and he looked pleased Regulus had actually remembered something about his interests.
‘Oh, I get it. Nice one.’ Severus said.
They continued walking, making their way down toward the dungeons. They could actually feel the air around them getting cooler by degrees as they passed under the lake. Peter loved the dungeons, and he felt lighter the lower they climbed. He loved the Slytherin dorms with their lush green velvet furniture and the beautiful light patterns filtering through the water of the lake into the windows above their rooms. He could see fish and even mermaids, sometimes, through those windows. The Potions classroom wasn’t as lovely as the Slytherin Common Room, but it had a quiet darkness that Peter found soothing. He liked being able to hide in shadows.
‘Why are you dreading Potions, Sev?’ Peter asked.
‘Didn’t you see who we’ve got Potions with?’ Severus said, holding up the timetable in his hand to show Peter and Regulus.
‘Hufflepuff.’ Peter read aloud. ‘So? That’s better than Gryffindor. We won’t have to deal with Regulus’ awful brother.’
Regulus smirked. ‘Yeah, but you’ve got James Potter, which is basically the same thing. Anyway, you two have fun. I’ve got a free period.’
Regulus sauntered off toward the Slytherin dormitory, leaving the fifth-years to enter Potions.
As soon as they got into the classroom, it became clear to Peter that James Potter wasn’t who Severus had been dreading. Sure, he knew the boys didn’t like each other much, but it was Lily Evans who made Sev turn an unflattering shade of crimson when he took a seat directly behind her.
Lily was chatting with another girl, someone Peter didn’t know. She turned slightly away from Severus at first and then seemed to have made up her mind about something. She turned and fixed her piercing green eyes on him.
‘I see you’re still keeping the same company as last year.’ She said pointedly, and Peter couldn’t help feeling a bit put out.
‘What’s wrong with his company?’ Peter said.
Evans looked at him as if she hadn’t noticed him before.
‘Not you, Pettigrew. You’re harmless enough. The other one.’
‘I keep telling you,’ Severus said in a low, frustrated tone, ‘Regulus is one of the good ones.’
Evans arched an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, and I believed you. Until I heard some of his opinions yesterday.’
Severus scoffed and leaned back in his chair. ‘You can be a good person and disagree with someone on politics.’
‘Politics?’ Evans said, looking even angrier than she had a moment earlier. ‘That’s what you call people’s rights?’
Peter didn’t care much about politics. He generally felt like as long as people didn’t hurt him, he wouldn’t hurt them. He hadn’t ever really had a reason to look too deeply into blood purity theory. He didn’t know whether ambivalence was its own political statement.
‘Come on, Lily, I think we could-’
‘Oi! Evans!’ An irritatingly familiar voice boomed from the other side of the room.
Lily closed her eyes, sighed, and turned around.
‘I’m in the middle of a conversation, Potter.’ She said icily.
‘I know, and now you’re in one with me. Much better, right? You’re welcome, by the way.’
‘What could I possibly be thanking you for right now?’
‘Getting you away from having to speak to Snivellus , of course!’
Lily rolled her eyes and shifted into a verbal sparring match with Potter that ended when Professor Slughorn cleared his throat and launched into an explanation of the dangers of poorly brewed Love Potions.
Peter leaned back, dozing a little. He knew Sev would take notes and explain it to him later, and he’d understand it better than he could learn from the professor. Potter’s antics would likely distract Slug enough to keep him from even noticing Peter having a kip during class. He loved being unnoticeable.
The next time they had Muggle Studies, James was surprised to enter the large, sunlit classroom to see it had been rearranged yet again. This happened frequently, as Weatherfend liked to do activities where students got up and moved around. Today all the chairs were in a semicircle facing two that were set apart at the far end of the classroom.
‘Ah, they’ve left thrones for us.’ Sirius said, striding into the room and sitting in one of the chairs. James laughed and joined him. ‘Finally,’ he said, ‘A room that honours our rightful place as kings of this school.’
Sirius grinned. Muggle Studies was the only class they had together this year. It seemed like the school had intentionally avoided putting their houses’ fifth-years in lessons at the same time, except Herbology which they’d both dropped. Sirius called it a conspiracy. James privately believed him. If he were a teacher, he’d separate the two of them, too.
‘Up, boys!’ Professor Weatherfend swept into the room, gesturing at James and Sirius to vacate their seats. James did so. Sirius was not so quick.
‘Aw, can’t I be teacher’s assistant today, Hermia?’ Somehow Sirius had learnt every teachers’ first name, and made it his goal to use them as much as possible.
Weatherfend looked at him fondly. ‘I don’t often hire assistants who actively try to disrupt every lesson. And that’s Professor Weatherfend to you.’ She said firmly, but she smiled. The teachers always loved James and Sirius. ‘Besides, the position’s already taken.’ She gestured at a tall student standing behind her, waiting to sit down. Sirius awkwardly stood up.
‘Er, Sorry.’ He said, moving to stand with James while the boy chatted with Weatherfend about something as the rest of the class filed in.
‘Who is that?’ James asked, looking at the unfamiliar Ravenclaw boy. Hogwarts wasn’t a large school, and James considered himself to be pretty popular. There were very few students he didn’t know or at least recognize by sight. And this one is unusual looking, he thought. The boy was exceptionally tall, so tall that the sleeves of his school robes didn’t reach his wrists. Or maybe he was just wearing old robes. They did seem a bit threadbare. He also had some kind of lines or scars all over his face.
‘I think his name’s Lupin.’ Sirius said thoughtfully. ‘Don’t remember his first name, though. It’s something weird and Wizard-y. Romulus maybe?’
‘Is he a sixth year? Or did he just transfer here from somewhere else?’
Sirius looked at James with confusion. ‘No, he’s our year. Been with us from the beginning.’
‘Really?’ James frowned. ‘Merlin, he must really keep to himself if I’ve never noticed him before.’
Sirius nodded. ‘He does. I think he’s got an illness or something, he misses classes all the time.’
James was going to ask how he knew so much about the boy, but Weatherford started to speak.
‘As I mentioned in our first lesson, we are going to be spending some time this term exploring Muggle traditions of storytelling. Has anyone here ever heard of William Shakespeare?’
A few of the students with Muggle family members raised their hands.
‘Excellent.’ Weatherfend said. She launched into an explanation about who this Shakespeare person was. She said he wrote a very long time ago and was respected as one of the greatest Muggle writers ever, but that some people felt he wrote in a way that was sexist and racist and should be done away with altogether. James started to feel a bit sleepy. It was an early class, after all. But he perked up when Weatherfend said that as a way of exploring his work the class would be presenting a production of one of Shakespeare’s plays, The Tempest, which was about a wizard who used his magic to manipulate people and had to decide between revenge and forgiveness.
‘Muggles write about wizards?’ James asked, surprised.
Weatherfend nodded. ‘They write about magic, but not exactly as it is. For Muggles, it’s often a metaphor. Magic represents something else that is powerful or beautiful or dangerous.’
‘So we’re going to be… performing this play? In front of other students?’ Sirius asked.
Weatherfend nodded. ‘We’ll allow anyone who is interested to join, but those of you in Muggle Studies will be required to participate, either as actors or in helping with the production. I’ve already asked Remus here,’ she gestured to the Ravenclaw boy next to her, ‘to be my assistant director and help in that way. In fact, Remus, could you pass out the books for the class?’
As soon as Remus had handed them the books, Sirius was rifling through the pages quickly. James was looking at the confusing words, trying to make sense of what it could possibly mean that ‘every drop of water gape at wid’st to glut him.’
‘I want to be the Ferdinand!’ Sirius said. ‘He’s the romantic hero, right?’
Weatherfend laughed her bell-like laugh. Even Remus smiled a little at Sirius’ eagerness. ‘You know, Sirius.’ Weatherfend said, ‘I rather thought you might like to try for the role of Prospero.’
Sirius flipped through the pages. ‘The old man?’
The professor shrugged. ‘He has the most lines.’
Sirius grinned, and James knew what that meant. His best friend was about to become even more of a drama queen.