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Chapter Text

            September 1^st, 1972

            Remus Lupin sat quietly next to James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew and marveled at the fact that not only had he’d been invited to attend another year at Hogwarts, but that he was starting out this year with friends.

            He couldn’t remember the last time he had a friend, let alone multiple. It would have been before the bite, but he’d been so young he couldn’t remember. He’d also successfully kept the secret of his monthly transformations from them, for which he’d had to get increasingly creative in coming up with excuses for his absences.

            Remus was distracted from his musing when the First years filed in silently behind Professor McGonagall. They were all visibly nervous and he heard James snort quietly when their eyes inevitably turned towards the enchanted ceiling. They formed a line and soon enough Gryffindor had another girl and boy.

            “Black, Regulus!”

            Black? Remus looked towards Sirius and was surprised to find his friend’s pale face set in a fierce glower.

            “Is he..?” dared James cautiously.

            “My brother? Yes.” Sirius replied shortly, “and if he’s smart he’ll go anywhere but Slytherin.”  Remus traded a glance with James and looked back to the front of the hall just in time to see the Sorting Hat land lightly on Regulus’ head.

            “SLYTHERIN!”

            “Guess not,” Sirius whispered, a strange resigned look on his features.  The Slytherins welcomed their new member loudly and save for a quick glance towards the Gryffindor table, Regulus ignored his brother’s gaze.

            The sorting continued on and several more boys and girls were sorted into Gryffindor, the four friends clapping appropriately, but none of them paying very much attention until Remus noticed there hadn’t been a name called in an oddly long amount of time. Forcing his eyes to focus on the stool and the small occupant sitting upon it, Remus noticed that the boy was staring resolutely ahead, his eyebrows turned down and lips twitching every few seconds.

            “Will he hurry up? I’m hungry,” groaned Peter quietly. Remus shushed him and watched as the boy fidgeted on the stool.

            “Why is it taking so long?” James questioned quietly. “It almost looks like… Is he arguing with it?” he finished incredulously. And indeed, even as they watched, the boy seemed to be mumbling. They were too far to catch the words, but Remus saw the boy roll his eyes.

            “Are you allowed to do that?” Peter was looking increasingly irritable with the continued delay.

            “Why not?” Sirius said flippantly. “I think I like him already.” His face was still pale and the smile he wore was slightly forced, but at least he was participating in the conversation. In comparison to last year, Sirius looked drawn, as if his summer hadn’t been particularly restful. He’d been quiet on the train, and only had started to liven up as they reached Hogsmeade.

            Remus let his eyes return to the front as hushed whispers began to fill the silence. As a second year he didn’t have very much experience in regards to sorting times, but as he glanced around the house tables, even the older students looked confused. Professor McGonagall glanced towards Professor Dumbledore and then made to take a step forward, when the boy’s eyes, bright green, even from this distance, hidden behind square lenses and his auburn fringe suddenly met Remus’.

            The intensity in those eyes was startling, as was the serious expression. The boy held his gaze for a moment, only to break it with another violent eye roll and a small smirk formed on his lips. There was a moment of silence when Remus swore the Sorting Hat seemed to huff angrily, and then, in a slightly exasperated voice:

            “GRYFFINDOR!”

            The applause that followed was a bit slow to start as the boy hopped off the stool and set the hat down gently upon it. He strode over to the table and took a seat at the end with the other first years.

            “That was… something.” James said quietly, a perturbed look on his face. “How long did that take? Five minutes?”

            “Eight, actually,” said Remus, glancing down at his watch.

            “Maybe he has multiple personalities,” Peter said grumpily staring at his plate. He looked up after a moment to find them staring at him incredulously. “What? Do you have a better explanation? Well?”

            There were several seconds of silence before Sirius whispered “Touché,” with a small smirk. Remus just shook his head and looked back to the front of the hall in time to see a girl bounce off toward the Ravenclaw table. There were only about twenty students left, and thankfully for Peter the sorting was soon over.

            Professor Dumbledore stood and lifted his arms for quiet. “Wonderful! I’d like to welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts. Before we feast, I have just a few announcements.” Peter groaned quietly and out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw James roll his eyes.

            “As always the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students and magic in the corridors is not permitted. I’ve also been asked by Professor Sprout to remind students that the newly planted Whomping Willow is a very dangerous and valuable magical plant. Horse play in or around it will not be tolerated and will result in severe punishment,” said the professor, staring sternly over his half-moon glasses.

             Several of the students shifted guiltily and Remus had to fight not to fidget. The Whomping Willow had been planted last year in order to guard the entrance way to the tunnel Remus used every full moon. He’d follow the long and narrow tunnel to a shack on the edge of Hogsmeade and then transform. It was an effective set up, though Remus always returned battered and bruised.

             Up front, Professor Dumbledore smiled and raised his goblet. “To a good year!” he said, and then as he sat, the tables were suddenly laden with food.

             “Finally!” Peter said, reaching eagerly for a plate of roast beef. They all followed suit, Remus physically shaking himself to return to the present. As they loaded their plates he never noticed the bright green eyes staring at them from the end of the table

Chapter Text

            September 11^th, 1972

            “I have never been so glad we found out where the Kitchens are last year!” Sirius said as he flopped back onto his four poster bed. Wiggling until he found a comfortable spot and then crossing his arms behind his head, he sighed contentedly. They had missed dinner when James had begged their help in setting up a prank in the prefect bathroom. With Peter acting as look out they’d bewitched the mirrors so that they wouldn’t show reflections. Fairly tame, but it was only the second week of classes.

            “And that shortcut to the dungeons,” added Remus. “Makes getting to Potions so much easier.”

            “What about the staircase behind the tapestry on the ground floor?” said James, appraising himself in his reflection from the window. “It’s saved me from being late to Transfiguration a time or two.”

            “How many different passageways are there do you think?” Peter wondered from his place on the floor. He was flipping through his Charms book and practicing wand movements.

            “I don’t know. Could be loads,” said Sirius. So far they’d discovered just a few, but in a castle of this size and the amount of magic in the air, Sirius wouldn’t be surprised if they’d be able to find dozens if they tried.

            “We should make a list!” James said, standing abruptly. “There has to be more than we’ve found already. It wouldn’t do if we forgot them just because we don’t use them.” Sirius and Peter just stared perplexedly, but Remus was nodding.

            “We should, make a record that is. But instead of a list, why don’t we make a map?” he suggested. “I mean, this is a physical place, may as well lay it out as we see it, right?”

            “Brilliant! Great idea Remus!” James exclaimed. “We could make a map of all of Hogwarts and document all the passageways or secrets we find.”

            It was a pretty neat idea, and Sirius found himself sitting up and contributing as well. “We could add to it until we graduate and then leave it for the next generation. It could be our legacy to the school.”

            “With clues and hints, like having to tickle the pear to get to the Kitchens!” said Peter, abandoning his Charms book and hopping onto Remus’ bed. Remus had pulled out a blank piece of parchment and was scribbling furiously.

            “It’s going to have to be fairly large if we want it to cover the grounds as well,” he said. Sirius leaned over and saw that Remus was making a list of their suggestions. He looked up and chewed on the tip of the quill for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “Do you think there are spells we could use instead of just drawing everything out?”

            James’ own eyebrows rose in surprise and he grinned. “It would certainly make things easier if there were, wouldn’t it? We could go to the library and see if we can find anything,” he suggested.

            “More homework?” Peter groaned, but he was grinning and obviously excited. “I’ve heard of spells like that though. My aunt worked for the Daily Prophet and they have quills that write on their own.”

            “And based on the Daily Prophet there are ways to animate drawings and words as well so we could do that for the map! Make it so the clues appear and disappear.” Sirius said, trying to envision what such a thing would look like.

He glanced down at his watch out of habit and grimaced when he saw the time. “Sorry guys, I have to go. Regulus wants to talk to me,” he said, standing and pulling on his trainers. The last time Sirius had spoken to Regulus it had been a few days into term and painfully awkward.

            “Good luck,” James said sympathetically.

            “Don’t be too long. Curfew is in twenty minutes,” Remus warned, still scribbling.

            “Yeah, yeah.” Sirius said, throwing a backwards wave over his shoulder and heading out the door. He went down the stairs and out the portrait hole, jogging a little as he peered down at his watch again. Regulus said to meet him outside the Great Hall and so Sirius made a beeline for the Grand Staircase.

            By the time he had reached the Great Hall there was only ten minutes to curfew and Sirius was a bit short of breath. “Those stairs keep you in shape, that’s for sure,” he said quietly to himself.

            “Sirius,” said a voice behind him and he turned to see Regulus, who was standing in the shadow of the open doors to the Great Hall. Sirius approached and tried to prepare himself.

            “What did you need, Reg?” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He saw Regulus trying vainly not to show his disgust at Sirius’ choice of attire, which consisted of muggle trousers and a plain dark grey shirt.

            “I have a letter from Mother,” Regulus said, holding out a slightly crumpled envelope. Sirius was half tempted not to take it, but he knew ignoring his Mother was a sure fire way to another summer like the last one. He took it slowly and glanced down to see his name on the front in his mother’s harsh handwriting.

            “Thanks,” he said and then because he couldn’t think of anything else, “Why didn’t Mother’s owl just give it to me before?”

            “You weren’t at breakfast yesterday,” Regulus said dryly. “If I remember right you weren’t at lunch either.”

            It was true. Sirius was the very opposite of a morning person and he had a tendency to sleep past noon on Sundays. “Right…”

            They stood awkwardly for a moment before Sirius cleared his throat and motioned towards the staircase. “It’s almost curfew. I better get going.” Regulus nodded and Sirius turned and made for the stairs. As he turned the corner he saw a figure in the corner wearing Gryffindor robes. It was the boy whose sorting had, as far as Sirius knew, set the new school record. He debated with himself for a moment before deciding there was no sense losing house points over a lost first year.

             “Hey kid!” he called, walking towards him. The boy turned towards him and Sirius motioned to the stairs. “Curfew is in just a few minutes.” The boy nodded and glanced behind Sirius towards the Great Hall where no doubt Regulus was still standing. “Come on,” Sirius said, again motioning towards the stairs.

             The boy sighed and then started up the staircase, Sirius following him. “What was your name again, kid?” Sirius said, uncomfortable with the silence.

            The boy glanced over at him with an amused look on his face. “You do realize you’re maybe a year older than me, right?” he said.

            “A year is a year, and I wasn’t the one standing around waiting to get caught by Filch like an idiot,” Sirius replied. The boy frowned but didn’t reply. “Name?” Sirius prodded.

            “Hadrian.”

            “Hadrian…?” Sirius said when the boy didn’t volunteer any more information.

            “Hadrian Moores.”

            “Well, Hadrian Moores, a word of advice,” Sirius said as they neared the portrait of the Fat Lady. “If you’re going to be out after curfew the very last place you want to be is outside the Great Hall. And better yet, don’t wear your house colors. Makes it much harder for them to take points,” he finished with a wink.

            Hadrian rolled his eyes and gave the Fat Lady, who had a faintly disapproving look on her face, the password.

Chapter Text

October 22^nd, 1972

            “Remus is sick again,” Peter announced as he entered the dormitory. Sirius and James didn't even look up from their game of Exploding Snap.

            “He really needs to drink more orange juice or something,” James said absentmindedly. “This is the second time since school started.” He eyed the cards in his hand speculatively.

             Across from him Sirius nodded, glancing down at his own cards before giving James a mocking grin. “Come on Jamsie, what’s taking so long?” he said flicking his fringe out of his eyes.

             James scowled at the nickname but laid down a card in front of him gently. For several seconds nothing happened and James relaxed. A bit too soon it seemed as the second he looked toward Peter and opened his mouth to speak, the cards in front of him exploded with a bang. Over the sound of his own violent coughs he could hear Sirius howling with laughter. James waved a hand in front of his face in an effort to clear the smoke and Peter handed him a goblet of water from the jug on the window sill which James took gratefully, taking several large swallows.

            “You are a pillock,” he said finally tossing a pillow at the still laughing Sirius. Sirius just grinned unrepentant and together they gathered up the cards.

            “Up for another game?” Sirius asked, shuffling gingerly. James glanced down at his watched and sighed.

            “Can’t. I still haven’t started that essay for Charms,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

            “C’mon mate, you have plenty of time!” Sirius said.

            James just shook his head and started to gather up his school bag. “I need to head to the library anyway. I talked to Madame Prince last week and she said she would see if there were any books on spells for map making.”

            “Isn’t that being a bit obvious though?” Sirius asked. “I doubt there’s a specific rule against making a map of Hogwarts but we’d still probably get in trouble for it.”

            “I told her it was for an extra credit project,” James said, shrugging. “She seemed to buy it. Don’t worry.”

            “’don’t worry’ he says. I’ll remember that when we’re in detention together!” Sirius called after him as he went out the door. James headed down into the Common Room and dodged around a couple of first years tossing around a quaffle. As he made his way to the portrait hole he spied Lily Evans sitting on couch with several other girls and boys.

            He quickly looked away, and tried to ignore the surge of jealously that came whenever he saw someone talking to her. Lily Evans was a second year like him, and very clever. She was a bit of a bookworm and got very good grades, but she was also very popular as well. Deep down James could admit that he liked her, but he didn’t dare say or do anything about it. Sirius would tease him mercilessly.   

            Stepping out of the portrait hole, James started down the stairs, eager to see if Madame Prince had found anything for the map. So far they hadn’t found anything on their own and so James had asked Madame Prince about map making spells while Remus had asked Professor Dallaper, who taught Art, about ways of animating words and drawings. Hopefully he’d managed before he’d taken ill again. Whenever Remus came down with something he inevitably ended up spending several nights in the hospital wing.

            Remus really did need to do something about his chronic illnesses. Anytime someone asked about it Remus said it wasn’t anything serious, just that he had a weak immune system, but even so he got sick at least once a month. That could not be normal.

            Actually, now that he thought about it, it almost seemed to be on some sort of schedule. James frowned and turned off into the third floor corridor to the Library. Why on earth would someone get sick on a schedule? Although, a couple times it hadn’t been Remus that was sick, but his mother or father and he’d had to leave school for a day or two. But when he returned he always looked ragged, like he’d been ill too.

            It was strange, and James resolved to think more about it later. For now, he’d reached the Library and quickly headed for the front desk. Madame Prince looked up as he approached and he tried to keep an innocent expression on his face.

            “Mr. Potter, there you are!” she said, putting down the book she’d been flipping through. “I looked through the whole of this library and only found one book about magical map making. But I have it here and you’re welcome to check it out.”

            James nodded and tried to hide his disappointment. Well, one book was better than none he supposed. “Thanks, Madame Prince.”

           “No problem, dear. I hope it helps,” she said, handing the book over to him after tapping it with her wand. “You have it for a week.”

            He nodded and thanked her again. Turning away, he stuffed it into his book bag and made for the study tables. Hopefully between this book and whatever information Remus could get they would be able to actually start making the map. They’d already found another passageway leading out to the greenhouses since they decided to start making a record and James was eager to start putting everything down on paper.

            He was so distracted with his musing that as he turned the corner he ran headlong into someone. Their book bag fell to the floor and James stepped back quickly. “Sorry ‘bout that, mate,” he said, re-situating his own bag on his shoulder as the other boy picked up his. After a moment James recognized him as the Gryffindor boy with the exceptionally long sorting. “You’re… uh Hadrian right?”

            The boy nodded and glanced over to him. “Yeah, Hadrian Moores. You’re James Potter right? I heard you got on the quidditch team as reserve.”

            “Yeah,” James replied. He supposed reserve wasn’t bad for a second year, but he was privately looking forward to the end of the year when two of the team’s current Chasers would graduate. He would definitely be on the team next year.

            “Anyway I’ve got to go,” Hadrian said. “It was nice meeting you.”

            “You too,” James said as Hadrian stepped around him. James turned back to the table and noticed only one was empty, though given it was a Sunday afternoon James wasn’t surprised. He made his way over and sat down, reaching over to close the open book that had been left when the contents caught his eye.

             ‘XXXXX BEASTS’ was at the top of the page while directly underneath was the subheading ’WEREWOLF’ and a gruesome looking picture of what appeared to be a man undergoing a transformation. Beneath were several bullet points describing werewolves and the second to last caught James’ eye.

            ‘Werewolves transform into their monstrous state during the full moon, which happens approximately every 27 days.’

            For several seconds James stared at it as a thought started to coalesce in the back of his mind. He glanced at the picture of the transforming man and tried to imagine the amount of pain that such a thing would entail. Pain that, James supposed, would leave you feeling ill for several days afterwards.

            James never did end up working on his Charms essay that afternoon.

Chapter Text

            November 22^nd, 1972

             Sneaking around Hogwarts at night wasn’t nearly as exciting as one would think. Thanks to James’ Invisibility Cloak as long as they were quiet all they had to do was huddle close together and try not to trip up on each other. It was, Peter mused, almost too easy.

            Tonight, their target was the Hospital Wing. They were visiting Remus as he’d come down with a case of food poisoning. Remus swore he must have ate something rotten, but James had persisted they had all ate the same food so there was no possible way that only Remus could have ended up ill. Whatever the reason though, Remus had disappeared into the Hospital Wing sometime after dinner last night, and when they’d tried to visit earlier Madame Pomfrey had turned them away saying that Remus was resting and couldn’t be disturbed. So here they were, sneaking in instead, which served her right for trying to keep them away from Remus.

            “Sirius, if you keep trodding on my foot I’ll hex you in your sleep,” James hissed suddenly.

            “It’s not my fault! Yours are so big I don’t have any room for mine,” Sirius whispered back. The insulted look on James’ face threated to cause Peter to burst into laughter but a loud thud coming from an unused classroom across the hall caused them all to freeze for a second, and then as the classroom door started to open, shuffle as quickly and silently as they could out of the middle of the hallway. It wouldn’t do to get bumped into while invisible after all.

            The shadowy figure that exited the classroom was too short to be a professor, but better safe than sorry. The figure strode forward quickly and as they passed underneath a window and the moonlight hit them, Peter could see they were dressed in Slytherin robes. They turned the corner and were out of sight quickly enough.

            “Wasn’t that your brother, Sirius?” James whispered, causing Peter to pull up short surprised he hadn’t recognized that himself.

            “Yeah,” Sirius agreed, a pensive look on his face. “I wonder what he was doing out here so late.”

            “Like you’re one to talk,” James whispered back, already leading them forward again.

            “Shut up! This is completely different!” Sirius shot back, voice louder than it should have been. Peter glanced around anxiously but the coast still appeared clear.

            “Sshhh! I’m just saying, no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

            As Sirius took a breath to, no doubt, continue the whispered argument another figure appeared in the classroom doorway. Peter squeaked and grabbed a handful of both James’ and Sirius’ robes to drag them to a halt. Thankfully, neither James nor Sirius protested the rough treatment as they seemed to notice the figure themselves.

            Small, as Regulus had been, but instead of green and silver this figure was dressed in red and gold. They walked forward under the window and Peter could see that it was the auburn haired boy from the sorting. The boy looked around curiously and pulled out his wand. With a whispered word the tip lit up and bathed the surrounding area in a soft glow.

            “Is someone there?” the boy said, waving his wand back and forth slowly. Peter held his breath as the boy glanced around and his startlingly green eyes landed and then lingered on where they stood. Beside him James and Sirius were tense and still. After a moment or two that felt so much longer, the boy lowered his wand and with another word, put out the light. “Guess not,” the boy whispered, glancing away and then making his way up the hall.

            Even after he was out of sight the boys continued to stand still, as if made from stone for several seconds before James let out a slow breath. “That was too close,” he whispered.

            Peter agreed with a nod that no one could see and swiped the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead. Beside him Sirius let out a slow breath. A beat passed and then James started walking again. Peter and Sirius followed and thankfully, they ran into no one else on their way.

            When they reached the large double doors to the Hospital Wing James eased one open slowly, and Peter and Sirius squeezed in. As James gently shut the door, Peter looked around and spotted a lump on one of the beds in the corner.

            He stepped out from beneath the cloak and padded quietly over to the bed side. In it, Remus slept quietly, still rather pale and strangely, Peter could make out the edge of a bandage peeking out from beneath his pajama top. “Remus,” he said quietly, reaching out to gently shake the boys shoulder. Remus woke with a start, wild eyes frantically looking around, but relaxed when he saw it was Peter.

            “One of these days Madame Pomfrey is going to catch you,” he said, voice scratchy from sleep.

            “We come all the way down here, almost get caught, and that’s the welcome you give us?” Sirius said with a pout, flopping down into one of the visitor’s chairs. Remus came awake a bit more at that, and with a wince, he sat up.

            “You almost got caught?” he said, brows furrowing.

            “By Sirius’ little brother and that Hadrian kid,” James replied, sitting at the edge of Remus’ bed. He shrugged. “Just a couple first years. What were they going to do? Tell McGonagall and then explain why they were out after hours too?”

            Remus frowned and then glanced toward Sirius. “What were they doing?” he asked.

            “Good question,” Sirius said, rocking back in his chair. “They were hanging out in an empty classroom together though, seems a bit dodgy to me.”

            Remus narrowed his eyes a tad. “Because it was your brother or because Hadrian is a Gryffindor and Regulus is Slytherin?”

            “Both,” Sirius replied, “Just because he’s just a first year doesn’t mean Regulus can’t be up to something.”

            “He’s your brother,” Remus persisted, and then flinched back a bit when Sirius leveled a fierce glare at him.

            “He’s a little snake, Remus. He’s just like the rest of my family, up to their eyeballs in the dark arts” he said grimly.

            “You were talking to him at the beginning of term,” James said and Peter could feel the tension skyrocketing. He willed James to shut up but apparently James didn’t notice how obviously Sirius did not want to talk about this. “You were fine with him then weren’t you?”

            After a beat or two of silence where Remus and Peter glanced uncertainty at each other, Sirius blew out a slow breath. “Things change,” he said, and then when James opened his mouth again, “Just drop it, will you?”

            James closed his mouth and nodded after a moment. The silence that followed was just a tad too awkward for Peter’s taste. “So, how’re you feeling Remus? Any better?” he said quickly, trying to ignore the faint squeak in his voice.

            As Remus answered and the conversation started to pick up again, Peter resolved to ignore his own curiosity about Sirius and his brother. It was obviously not a situation he wanted to get involved in.

Chapter Text

December 15^th, 1972

            “Freedom! Freedom at laaaaast!”

            James, Remus and Peter followed sedately as Sirius ran out of the castle doors, arms flung wide and face upturned to the falling snow. James wanted to mock Sirius as he ran around expressing his freedom in a series of failed acrobatics, but really James felt almost as relieved as Sirius evidently did.

            James knew he was smart, and he wasn’t being narcissistic saying that. He could get by without studying easily, and he usually aced his exams with very little effort. But that didn’t mean that the work that the professors piled on them in the weeks leading up to break went by any faster. If anything, due to his procrastination, he usually spent the last week or so before breaks up to his elbows doing every assignment that’d been given all at once.

            The same could be said for Sirius and Peter. The three of them would be frantically writing essays late into the night, while bookworm Remus would go to bed early with a rare smirk on his face. James couldn’t fault him for it though, especially since when they really needed it, Remus would stay up with them, researching while they wrote.

            Remus was by any standard a good friend, and a damn good person, which is why James hadn’t said anything when he’d finally understood the significance of his friends monthly ‘illnesses.’ He was almost surprised he hadn’t realized sooner, but that was probably because of the way werewolves were described in wizarding society. Anything James had ever read said that werewolves were vicious, violent and more wolf than person, even when they weren’t transformed.

            Remus was almost the exact opposite, although now that he knew what to look for James noticed that he did tend to get a bit tetchy right before the full moon, whether that be from nerves or some other reason James didn’t know. Regardless, James knew he had nothing to fear from his friend. In fact, he wanted to let Remus know that he didn’t care and that it didn’t bother him, but he didn’t know how.

            Should he just come out and say it? Should he hint at it and wait for Remus to realize he knew. James didn’t know. He also wasn’t sure how Sirius and Peter would react. He wanted to think that they’d be much like him and be open minded about it, but they’d never had a ‘so how do you guys feel about werewolves?’ discussion before so he couldn’t be positive.

            “Hey James, is there a reason you’ve been staring at me for the last couple minutes?”

            “What?” James replied, snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, um. No reason.” Remus was looking at him out of the corner of his eye, a bemused smile on his face.

            “Are you sure? Cause, I could have sworn I saw drool for a minute there. Anything you want to tell me?” Remus said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

            James felt his face heat up as Remus was fighting laughter. “No, you pillock!” Remus finally couldn’t contain his laughter and let out a few chuckles, at least until James shoved snow down the back of his robes.

            As Remus squawked and frantically shook out the back of his shirt, James noticed they were alone. Sirius had evidently coerced Peter into helping him build a rather large and elaborate snowman. Even at a distance, James noticed a likeness of Hagrid, the grounds keeper, beginning to form.

            James looked back to Remus, who had finally succeeded in shaking out the snow from his robes, took a deep breath, and tried to muster up some Gryffindor courage. “Remus, I uh, actually do have something I’d like to tell you.”

            Remus blinked curiously at him and turned to face him properly. “Okay,” he said, “shoot.”

            James stared at Remus and found himself utterly lost for words. “It’s just… I wanted to tell you that…”

            Remus’ eyebrows furrowed and the first trace of anxiety started to cross his features. “Just say it, James. You can tell me anything,” he said.

            “Exactly!” James found himself exclaiming trying to ignore the way Remus jerked back in shock at his sudden intensity. “I can tell you anything, because you’re bloody awesome! You’re a really good friend, Remus,” he said firmly, nodding to emphasize his statement.

            “Okay? Thanks?” Remus said, confused. “You’re a good friend too, James.”

            “But that’s not what I wanted to tell you,” James said quickly, aware that he was skirting around the subject. He needed to get to the point. “I just thought you’d like to know that I know and that I think that it’s perfectly okay and I really like being your friend!”

            Remus stared at him for a moment before the first hints of fear started to grace his features. “What do you know, James?” he said slowly.

            “That you’re uh…” James stuttered. Merlin, but he was buggering this up. “that you’re a werewolf,” he said finally.

            Remus was silent and for a moment James was afraid that he’d just made a total arse of himself, that he’d been wrong and that he’d just ruined everything. But Remus wasn’t laughing, or even angry, instead it was like he’d put up a wall and was hiding behind it.

            “You know,” he said woodenly, “that I’m a werewolf.”

            “Yes, but I’m completely okay with it!” James replied quickly. “I just wanted to you know that.”

            “I see,” Remus said, a strange raspy quality to his voice. “Do the others…?”

            “No! No, I didn’t tell them. I figured it out on my own, there was a book about dark creatures, not that you are one of course! But I saw it in the library one day and it just got me to thinking,” James babbled as Remus slowly reached up and pressed a hand against his eyes. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want anybody to know!” James said desperately, “I won’t tell anybody I swea-“

            James cut himself off when he realized that what he thought were the beginning of sobs, were actually bubbles of laughter. There were tears in Remus’ eyes, but he wasn’t upset. No, James realized, he was relieved. “Sorry,” Remus said when he’d calmed. “I’ve just been so afraid of someone finding out for so long, and then to hear you’re okay with it. I wouldn’t have imagined this in my wildest dreams!”

            “Of course I’m okay with it!” James reassured him quickly. Remus nodded, wiping his eyes. The two stood quietly for a moment, both thankful for the outcome of the conversation.

            “Werewolf, huh?” said a voice behind them, and James spun around the come face to face with Sirius and Peter, both slightly wet. Behind them the finished snowman stood tall.

             “Makes sense,” Sirius continued and James felt the ice that had taken up residence in his stomach start to melt from the small smile Sirius was wearing. “I was betting on half-vampire myself,” he said, sidling up to Remus and throwing a companionable are around his shoulders. Remus just stared at him, mouth open in shock.

            Sirius waited a beat and then sighed. He looked straight at Remus and waited until he met his eyes. “I don’t care either, Remus. You’re one of the best blokes I know and you getting PMS-y once a month isn’t going to change that.”

            Remus spluttered and his mouth was opening and closing, a strange wheezing sound the only thing to escape. James turned to Peter and saw something like fear flit across his face. Peter glanced at James uncertainty, and whatever he saw must have reassured him as he nodded to himself and then threw his own arms into the mix.

            “You’re still Remus,” Peter said, and that seemed to be the last straw as Remus suddenly had to take great heaving breaths and put his head between his knees.

            Several minutes later, and James noticed Remus repeatedly pinching himself, as if to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, with a deliriously happy smile on his face. James snickered quietly to himself and wished he had a camera.

            They made it to the seventh floor eventually, still half tangled in each other. As they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, James noticed Hadrian sitting on the stairs, a book held open across his knees. He looked up as they approached, no doubt bemused at their disheveled appearance.

            Just before James followed Peter, Sirius, and Remus into the portrait hole Hadrian spoke up.

            “Alright?” he said, quietly.

            “Yeah, I think we are,” James replied with a smile as Sirius managed to send all three of them sprawling to the floor. Their mix of groans and laughter spurred on James’ own, and when he looked down Hadrian was back to reading, but he had a wide grin on his face.

Chapter Text

February 4th, 1973

            If Sirius was really honest with himself, he knew that deep down he still craved his parent’s approval. There had been a time, years ago, that he’d tried his hardest to believe the lies his parent’s had force fed him. He’d gone along with it, as long as he could before the circular logic and his own sense had caught up with him. ‘Why does blood status matter so much?’ he’d ask, innocently curious. ‘They can do magic too, so why does it matter?’ By the time he was eight he’d learned not to ask. The Black family had always been big on corporal punishment and his parents weren’t any different. Sirius had personally become very familiar with many spells specifically tailored for such a purpose.

            He had known that when he was sorted into Gryffindor he’d be defying every expectation of him. The Black family had been Slytherins, with the occasional Ravenclaw, for centuries. They were a cunning lot, and as dark as they came. As long as Sirius could remember he had been brought up to respect blood purity and detest anything else. And as the first born, the heir to the Black family, there had also been lessons on etiquette, long lists of family history to memorize, and magical knowledge intended to put him ahead of the game when he finally went to Hogwarts.

            The first couple months of term last year he’d caught himself almost saying ‘mudblood’ out of habit. At home he’d been forbidden to say things like ‘muggleborn,’ on grounds it was just ‘hiding the truth.’ The freedom he had experienced at Hogwarts was a stark change to his home life, and it’d been a breath of fresh air. At least until now.

            Sirius glanced down at the parchment crushed in his fist and felt another burn of anger towards his brother. The little snake was spying on Sirius and reporting back to their mother. It had to be. He smoothed out the letter and read it again, although he’d done so enough times already to memorize it.

            Sirius,

It has come to my attention that you’ve been spending time with company that is far beneath the name of Black, specifically the spawn of the blood traitor Dorea Potter. Just being Purebloods doesn’t excuse them of their treacherous beliefs and you will cease your association with that boy immediately. You’ve already shamed the Black family by being sorted into that filthy den of mudbloods and bloodtraitors, but do not dare disgrace us further. I will know, and you will be punished, severely.

            -Walburga Black     

            The threat in the letter was clear and he knew that if he didn’t start hanging with the ‘right crowd’, he was going to end up spending another summer like the last; alternately locked in his bedroom or attending ‘lessons.’

            Sirius levered himself up from the wall that he’d been brooding against and with a glance, that become a wince when he checked his watch and saw the time, he stuffed the crumpled letter back into his trouser pocket. It was just shy of three in the morning and he had classes in just a handful of hours. If he was lucky he’d catch an hour or two of sleep, breeze through lessons, and then it was the weekend.

            Sirius had plans with the others to sneak into the Restricted Section with James’ Invisibility Cloak tonight and look for any sort of spell that would help with the map, which had been scarcely worked on since October.  The rebel in Sirius, who detested rules and anything ‘proper’ out of principal, was greatly looking forward to a bit of marauding. The rest of Sirius was a bit put out at the thought of yet another sleepless night.

            Starting off down the corridor with silent steps Sirius peered around a corner, and finding it devoid of prefects, ghosts, or Filch, crossed to the other side and made for the Grand Staircase. He’d have to be quick in order to avoid the patrol that usually did a sweep at three.

            Just as he reached the end of the corridor, low voices had Sirius ducking behind a suit of armor. Breathing as quietly and evenly as possible Sirius waited for them to pass. The voices grew louder, and as they rounded the corner Sirius could see two figures hurrying towards him.

            He shifted slightly, trying to take his weight off of his right leg, which had begun to cramp, and his wand slipped out of his pocket. The wood made a soft clatter as it hit the stone, but in the silence it was defending. Sirius groaned mentally as one of the two figures whipped out their own wand and with a whispered word, lit the tip with a bright white glow.

            The sudden light had Sirius shielding his eyes with one hand and fumbling on the stone for his own wand with the other. Grasping it firmly in his right hand, Sirius stood, hoping that he wouldn’t end up serving detention tonight.

            “Sirius?”

            Sirius stiffened and lit his wand as well. The extra light exposed Regulus and Hadrian Moores, both clad in plain black and though Moores was the one with his wand lit, Regulus was holding his as well.

            “What are you doing here?” his brother said, making to stow his wand back up his sleeve.

            “I could say the same for you,” Sirius replied tightly. The sight of his perfect little Slytherin brother brought whatever anger he’d managed to banish roaring back. “That goes double for you,” he continued, flicking his eyes towards Moores. “What’s a Gryffindor doing wandering around with a Slytherin in the dead of night?”

            Moores frowned, and opened his mouth to answer but Regulus spoke first. “That’s rich coming from you,” he sneered. “You and that band of menaces you call friends spend more time out of your beds wandering the castle then you do in them!”

            “At least I have friends! You wouldn’t know a friend if they bit you on the arse!” Sirius hissed back, the triumph he felt at Regulus’ flinch soured with guilt. Before they’d been old enough to recognize the politics involved in their playdates, Sirius and Regulus had often spent time with the children of other Pureblood families while their parents had been discussing business or whatever else. While Sirius had always been popular with the other children, Regulus had been an awkward child, never as outgoing as Sirius and tending to go off on his own. After the other children had left Sirius would find him reading in the library or off in a corner somewhere.

            Regulus probably didn’t know how many times Sirius had walked in and noticed a stray tear before Regulus had hurriedly wiped it away. Sirius liked to think he’d managed to make up for it in other ways. Letting Regulus crawl into bed with him after a bad dream, usually brought on by their mother’s stories, or sneaking dessert to him when he’d been sent to bed with no dinner, but the guilt had never gone away and feeling that now only made his anger flare.

            Regulus’ face was red in the wandlight and his dark eyes glinted dangerously. “I may not have friends” he said through gritted teeth, “but I can say my Mother loves me. Can you?”

            Sirius had his wand pointed at Regulus before he really knew what he was doing and he saw Regulus lifting his to match. His mind was blank for spells, but Sirius opened his mouth anyway, desperate to erase the knowing smirk on his brothers face.

            “Expelliarmus!”

            His wand was suddenly ripped from his hand and when Sirius turned he saw Moores standing with his own wand up. His gaze snapped back to Regulus and Sirius was surprised to see the wand gone from his brother’s hand as well.

            For a moment it was silent save for their heavy breathing and then Regulus lowered his arm and took a breath.

            “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you hate me, Sirius” he said, a trace of genuine confusion beneath the blank mask.

            “What you’ve done?” Sirius spit back, reaching into his pocket. “You’ve been reporting on me! Back to Mother!” He threw the crumpled letter at his brother with trembling hands. “You know how bad it was last summer!”

            Regulus’ bewildered face did little to stem Sirius’ anger but as his brother smoothed it out and began to read, Sirius felt his breathing pick up. The idea of leaving Hogwarts, of returning to Grimmauld Place, terrified him. He barely survived last summer, how would he make it through another?

            “But, I didn’t! I wouldn’t…”

            “Save it!” Sirius shouted back, ignoring Moores when he stepped forward as if to try and physically get between them. “You’re just like the rest of our family! Snakes, the lot of you!”

            Regulus reeled back as if struck and Sirius didn’t look back when he snatched up his wand from the ground and took off down the corridor. He didn’t stop until he’d made it back to the Fat Lady, gasped out the password between trembling breaths, and charged inside when it opened, ignoring her when she asked if he was alright.

            He bounded up the stairs to the dormitories and then paused to catch his breath. After a moment or two he opened the door and slunk inside as quietly as he could. Pitching himself onto his bed fully clothed he pulled the curtains shut viciously, ignoring the way his breathing was speeding back up.

            He managed to muffle the one traitorous sob that escaped him in his pillow and if he pretended his tears were just sweat from the run, well that was his business wasn’t it?

            His mother and Father, Regulus, even Moores, they could all go to hell as far as he cared.  

Chapter Text

            April 19^th, 1973

            Remus was undoubtedly the most studious of his group of friends. While he wasn’t totally immune to moments of procrastination, he was nowhere near as bad as the other three. This meant that while Sirius and James were off setting up a prank on the fourth floor somewhere and Peter was mid wizards chess game, Remus was heading down to the Library to work on his Potions essay.

            He’d be in the common room but Peter alone was distracting enough, let alone the other two when they came back laughing and on an adrenaline high from their latest mischief. He was lucky, incredibly so, to be allowed an education at all given his condition, and he wasn’t about to waste it. So he’d just finish his essay as quickly as possible and then see about joining his friends.

            He set his school bag down on one of the tables and got out his Potions text and a blank roll of parchment. Professor Slughorn had assigned an essay on Shrinking Solutions and so Remus flipped to that section of the book, pulled out a quill and got to work.

            A while later and Remus sat back and stretched his aching hand. He had finished all but the conclusion, but when he glanced at his watch he decided he’d finish later. He had just enough time to drop off his books in the dormitory and then head down for dinner.

            As he closed his Potions book and gathered his supplies, he glanced around and wasn’t surprised to see that the library was much emptier than he remembered. He tended to block out the rest of the world when he was focused and while that meant he was less likely to get distracted, it also meant he tended forget the time.

            His book bag made an ominous ripping sound when he slung it over his shoulder but when it did nothing else, he sighed and made for the door. If it split all the way through he could always just fix it with magic, but one could only do that so many times before the material started to become thin and tear prone and he’d already fixed a handful of rips so far. It’d actually belonged to his father when he went to Hogwarts so it did also have some sentimental value, but he’d need a new bag eventually, something his family really didn’t have the money for.

            A loud laugh pulled him out of his thoughts and when he glanced over he was a bit surprised to see Hadrian Moores and Lily Evans sitting with Snape and Sirius’ little brother, Regulus. The four had their own homework spread out in front of them, but Hadrian was evidently in the middle of telling some sort of story given his wild hand gestures. Lily and Regulus seemed captivated by whatever he was saying, with Lily seconds away from a fit of giggles. Snape was holding his quill over his parchment, but he had a small smile on his face and would glance over every few seconds.

            They made an unlikely foursome, two Gryffindors and two Slytherins but Remus wouldn’t begrudge them for it. However, he knew that if either James or Sirius were here it would be a different story.

            Since the fight between Sirius and Regulus that Sirius refused to talk about and the other three only knew about from the Hogwarts rumor mill, Sirius had evidently lumped Hadrian in the same category as his brother. Remus hadn’t ever actually spoken to Hadrian himself, but as he looked on he couldn’t picture him being the suspicious sort Sirius tried to paint him as.

             James, on the other hand, didn’t necessarily have anything against Regulus or Hadrian himself, but he’d side with Sirius regardless and he wouldn’t be pleased to see them sitting with Snape or Lily, for completely different reasons of course.

            James tried to hide it, but Remus knew that he fancied Lily. He’d get jealous anytime he saw her sitting with another boy and he had a tendency to stare at her with a dopey look on his face.

            Remus quickly looked away and made for the doors when he saw Hadrian start to gather up his school work and stand. He certainly wouldn’t mind a conversation with the other Gryffindor but he didn’t want it to start off with Hadrian questioning why Remus had been staring at him.

            The hallway was empty and Remus supposed everyone else had already headed down for dinner. He hiked up his bag a bit more and then made for the Grand Staircase. He’d only made it a handful of steps when a strange sound had Remus stopping in his tracks.

            One of the only perks to being a werewolf was that he had far sharper senses than normal. His sense of smell was by far the most improved, but Remus had also found that his hearing and vision, especially at night, benefitted as well. He would also occasionally get strange feelings that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He supposed it was the animal instincts of the wolf, but Remus didn’t like thinking about that too much. He liked to keep that part of him as separate as possible from his day to day life.

            Now however, as the sound repeated itself, Remus wasn’t going to try and ignore that feeling. He very slowly pulled out his wand and followed the sound around the corner to an empty classroom. As he came closer to the door he could make out what sounded like laughter in addition to the first sound, which he now realized was something repeatedly thumping against the inside of the door.

            Ever so slowly Remus reached out and wrapped his hand around the nob. The metal was cool against his palm and after a moment to take a deep breath, Remus pulled it open.

            It took a second for Remus to process what he was seeing, and then he dropped to his knees next to Peter, who had both his hands and feet bound together with rope. Peter opened his mouth but no sound emerged and Remus realized he’d also been magically silenced.

            “Oh ho, the cavalry has arrived!” rang a voice from the other end of the room. Remus looked up, cursing himself for not paying attention, to see two older boys both dressed in green and silver. “We were wondering if anyone was going to come looking or if we’d just have to leave him here,” the boy continued. He slid off of the desk he’d been perched on and stepped forward, the other boy coming up behind him.

            Remus pointed his wand at them, mindful of the still bound Peter. “What did you do to him?” he said, aware that he could sound as brave as he wanted, but there wasn’t a thing he could do against them. They looked to be about fifth years and no matter how advanced at Defense Against the Dark Arts Remus was, he’d be no match for them in a duel.

            “Nothing permanent,” the boy sneered, twirling his wand between his fingers. “We just wanted some payback for that nasty trick you brats played on us the other day.”

            For a moment, Remus just looked up at them uncomprehendingly before remembering quite abruptly the prank Sirius and James had convinced them to help set up. Sirius had somehow found out where the Slytherin Common Room was and they’d spelled the corridor leading up to it so that anyone who walked down it was drenched in foul smelling green ooze. The best part had been that even if the ooze was removed, the smell remained, no matter how many times you scourgify’d yourself.

            Now however, Remus didn’t find it near as funny as it had been when they’d returned to their dormitory, sleep deprived but drunk off of their merrymaking. They’d been so sure that no one had seen them as they set it up. With James’ cloak they had only been visible for the brief moments it took to actually cast the spells, but Remus supposed it would only take a fleeting glance of red and gold for the four of them to be suspect given they already had a reputation for mischief around school.

            “Looks like the jig is up,” the other boy mocked, walking forward until he was a few scant feet away from Remus. “Or, I suppose we could just do the same to you.”

            Remus quickly pointed at the boy’s chest but he only threw his head back and laughed. “You think you stand a chance against us?” he scoffed.

            “Expelliarmus!”

            Remus spun around, or as much as he could on his knees, and saw Hadrian, wand pointed squarely at the nearer Slytherin. The boy’s wand had been flung out of his hand and when the other Slytherin raised his, the same happened to him as well. Now wandless they didn’t appear nearly as confident.

            “I thought the House of Slytherin was renowned for its ambition and cunning,” he said, stepping around Remus and Peter. “Picking on students three years your junior doesn’t display intelligence nor skill.”

            “Are you a first year?” the first boy asked incredulously.

            Hadrian huffed a breath and then twitched his wand toward the door and Remus hurriedly dragged Peter to one side. “Yes, I am and unless you want the whole school to know that not only were you disarmed by a first year, but also tied up and left for someone to find like you were going to do to them, I’d suggest you leave.”

            “You expect me to believe a first year could conjure rope?”

            Hadrian smiled and from what Remus could see of his face, it wasn’t a particularly nice expression. “I just disarmed you, didn’t I? But I’d be happy to provide you with a demonstration if that wasn’t convincing enough.”

            There was a beat of silence where the two Slytherins glanced at each other and then, neither looking pleased with the situation, nodded slightly. Hadrian stepped to one side as they picked up their wands and strode from the room without a word.

            Once their steps could no longer be heard, even by Remus, Hadrian lowered his wand from where he’d pointed it at the doorway to Peter. “Finite,” he said quietly.

            “Thank you!” Peter gasped immediately, squirming a bit to try and sit up. Remus helped him while Hadrian wandered over to the far end of the classroom. “I’ve been stuck like this for a half hour!”

            “Are you alight?” Remus questioned as he tugged the rope over Peter’s wrists. Peter nodded his head, still breathing deeply. Together they managed to get to rope off of Peter’s ankles and Remus helped him stand.  

            “They didn’t hurt me, just tied me up and took my wand,” Peter said, leaning on Remus when he wobbled a bit.

            “Speaking of which,” Hadrian said, striding back across the room. In his hand he held Peter’s wand, which he then held out for Peter to take.

            “Thanks,” Peter said gratefully, stowing it back in pocket.

            “We would’ve been stuck in here if not for you,” Remus agreed.

            Hadrian had a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

            “Not a big deal?” Peter squawked. “You took down two fifth years Slytherins! And you’re younger than us!”

            Hadrian shifted a bit, looking faintly uncomfortable though the pink didn’t fade. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to think of anything to say and shrugged instead.

            The three stood quietly for several seconds before Hadrian cleared his throat. “We’d best hurry if we don’t want to miss dinner.” Remus and Peter nodded and followed him out of the room. “See you later,” he said, picking up his book bag from the floor.  

            “Thanks again!” Peter called to his retreating back. The two then slowly made their way to the Grand Staircase. It took until the fifth floor before Peter could walk normally and Remus vaguely wondered if they should have gone to the Hospital Wing to make sure his circulation hadn’t been cut off. They were almost to the Fat Lady when Peter spoke up.

            “I don’t know what he did to Sirius, but Hadrian doesn’t seem too bad,” he said quietly.

            Remus nodded, but didn’t reply because just then the portrait sung open to emit a grinning Sirius and James, obviously just back from another successful prank.

            “Where’ve you two been?” James said, running a hand through his hair.  

            Remus glanced down at Peter and they locked eyes for a second. “Nowhere,” they replied together.

Chapter Text

June 16^th, 1973

            The worst part about being eleven again, Harry decided, was how scrawny he was. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time around, when he’d been subjected to the Dursley’s neglect, but even without having his growth stunted by malnutrition he was still short for his age. It was entirely unfair, but it did distance him in appearance from his father so it wasn’t all bad. Silver linings and all that, he supposed.

            In the wizarding world, 1973 was not much different from 1993 and neither was Hogwarts. There were many familiar figures, like Dumbledore and McGonagall, and other than a slight rearrangement of the Common Room, Gryffindor Tower was as welcoming as ever. The similarities far outweighed the differences, which was good otherwise the last year could have gone much worse.

            Landing in 1972 had never been part of the plan, much less landing in 1972 as an eleven year old. He’d been found lying naked in the rain and the last thing he remembered of that night was being bundled into a car while a kind voice had told him that everything would be okay.

            The next thing he remembered was waking to the nauseating smell of disinfectant that seemed to linger around all hospitals, muggle or magical. An old woman was sitting at his bedside, knitting what looked like a very long scarf and when she realized that he was awake, she’d set her scarf aside and had called in a nurse. He’d been in perfect health, except for a mild fever brought on from his time in the rain.

            Then the nurse had asked for his name. He had opened his mouth to reply, but found that no matter how he racked his brain, he couldn't remember. Looking back on those first few weeks, Harry realized now that the spell that had sent him here hadn’t gone quite right. He’d aimed for 1978, just before the worst days of the war would have started. He was also supposed to go back with his mind and body. Instead he’d gone back six years too far, in the body of his eleven year old self and until receiving his Hogwarts letter on July 31^st, hadn’t remembered anything of his life except a large flash of light and a rushing sound.

            It had been a confusing couple of weeks, but he’d gotten lucky; luckier, perhaps, than he’d ever been in his first life. The kind old woman that had found him was Mrs. Charlotte Moores, a wealthy widow who owned a large house outside London. She was a squib who’d lost both her husband and two sons in Gellert Grindelwald’s rise to power in the 1940’s. She had taken him in, given him a name, and when it became apparent that he would receive wizarding education, paid his way.

            Harry had chosen not to reveal to her his entire past for her own safety. He had traveled back in time to defeat Voldemort before his actions could lead to the destruction of wizarding Britain and despite the fact he’d landed far too early, in a much too young body, he was determined to do so. As a squib she had no mental defense against Voldemort’s legilimency and while he trusted her, it was too early to put his plan in jeopardy in such a way.

            She had taken him in though, fed and clothed him, and for that he would protect her anyway that he could.

            “What do you think?” A voice from beside him snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see Timothy, one of his dorm mates looking at him expectantly.

            “About what?” Harry replied. Timothy heaved a great sigh, as if it physically pained him to repeat himself.

            “I asked if you’d like to meet up in Diagon Alley during the summer for ice cream with us.” Timothy said, glancing around to the other first years seated around them. Harry hesitated for a moment, before the bright faces of his dorm mates forced him to cave.

            “Yeah, alright,” he said, smiling a bit at their enthusiasm. Harry knew that ‘Hadrian’ came off a bit odd. He was too mature for his age, too bold, and far too knowledgeable. Harry hadn’t spent much time around eleven year olds since he was one the first time, and so trying to act like one hadn't been easy. His four dorm mates didn’t seem to mind though. In fact they flocked to him and seemed to think that he had an answer to any question they could have.

            “I’ll send you an owl about it when we know when we’re going to meet up,” Timothy was saying. Harry shushed him gently when he saw Dumbledore stand up from the corner of his eye.  The hall gradually quieted to Dumbledore’s raised hands and when they were all silent he began to speak.

            “A fine end to another fine year!” he said. “This year the House Cup goes to Hufflepuff, who gathered an impressive 483 points. Well done Hufflepuff!” Loud cheering came from the Hufflepuff table while polite applause came from the other three. Given Harry had already gone through his Hogwarts education once, he honestly didn’t care much about the House Cup. In fact, hadn't cared much about the Cup after his third year the first time around either. He couldn't actually remember who won for his fourth, fifth, or sixth years.

            “I’d like to wish you all a lovely summer holiday, and I can speak for all of the staff when I say we will be looking forward to seeing all of your faces again in September. But for now, enjoy the feast!”

            As Dumbledore sat down and the entire hall began to load up their plates, Harry found his eyes drawn to a particular group of second years near the end of the Gryffindor table. He could say with certainty that he did look eerily like his father, and that he really did have his mother’s eyes. He had cherished every opportunity he’d had over the year to speak with Lily and had found his idolization of her turn into genuine fondness. She was only twelve, but already Harry could see the bravery and kindness that he’d been told about all his life.

            He’d also managed to, at the very least, become acquaintances with Severus Snape who was as greasy as ever, but lacked the bitterness of the adult Snape that Harry had known. He’d also managed to befriend Regulus Black, which had been strategic, but Harry found himself sincerely enjoying the company the Slytherin. He was spoilt, and wasn't used to thinking for himself or questioning the ideals of his parents, but deep down he had a good heart.  

            He hadn't been able to spend nearly as much time with the Marauders though. They wouldn't actually be known as that for several years, but Harry could see the brotherly bonds developing that would lead Sirius, James, and Peter to become animagi and later the creation of the Marauders Map.

            James and Sirius were reckless at this age, and already they focused the majority of their pranks on the Slytherins. Remus was as sickly and scarred as Harry had expected him to be, but Peter had been the big surprise. Harry had thought he would be able to spot the traitor in him immediately, that he’d have to hold himself back from killing the rat on sight, but instead Harry had found an innocent boy, eager and while not as naturally talented as his friends, keen to learn.

            Harry had decided to withhold judgment for now, but if he could, he’d like to change Peter’s fate as well. His plans had changed drastically, but Harry supposed that maybe that was for the best. He would change history, and hopefully, create a much better future.  

Chapter Text

September 1^st, 1973

“Mum, stop!”

“Oh James, calm down. You’ve just got a bit-“

“Muuuum!” With exasperated huff, Mrs. Dorea Potter stepped back from her son and lowered the cloth she’d been rubbing against his face.

“Excuse me for trying to be the doting mother,” she said, but she had a wide smile on her face and James knew she wasn’t actually upset. “Now you’re all packed? Robes, books, toothbrush? And plenty of pants?”

“Yes, Mum!” James cast a furtive look around, hoping that no one was overhearing. “You double checked last night, and again this morning.”

“Oh alright” She leaned forward and pulled James into a tight hug. He stepped back after a moment and turned towards his father.

“Remember to owl us,” his father said, leaning forward for his own hug and James heard the jingle of coins landing in his pocket. His father stepped back, and gave James a wink while wrapping an arm around his mother’s shoulders. “We’ll let you know about Christmas when we’re a bit closer.”

“Thanks Dad,” James said and turned towards the steaming train. “Bye!” he called with one last wave. His parents waved back and then headed back towards the barrier to Kings Cross. James hefted his bag a bit higher on his shoulder and made for where he was sure he’d caught a glimpse of Sirius when he and his father had been loading his trunk.

James hadn’t heard from Sirius since the beginning of August, but from his last letter he seemed to be doing well. Apparently he’d been shipped off to his Uncle Alphard’s, but Sirius had said that it was loads better than being at home. James just hoped he’d been able to have at least a halfway decent summer. Sirius never said anything, but James suspected his home life was far from ideal. The dread on Sirius’ face on the train ride home last June proved that more than anything.

James dodged around several families and as a large woman in florescent green robes moved aside, he could see his friend next to a tall man in fine robes and hair the same inky shade of black as Sirius’. James hurried over and as he came closer he could hear the older man seemingly lecturing Sirius while handing him what looked like a large coin purse.

“-managed to get your mother to sign your permission slip for Hogsmeade. Don’t spend it all at once, and for Merlin’s sake, answer your mother when she writes to you,” said the man, pulling Sirius in for a short hug. Sirius pulled back after a brief moment, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sirius!” James called, raising a hand in greeting. Sirius spun around, his face lighting up when his eyes landed on James. He stepped forward to meet James and pulled him in for a rough hug, the purse slapping into James’ back with a heavy thud.

“Alright, mate?” he said, stepping back. James nodded and repeated the question back to Sirius, though he could already see how much better he looked than he had last September. There was no drawn look to his face, and he didn’t look as though he’d lost any weight. In fact, Sirius looked healthier than James had ever seen him.

“Fantastic, actually,” Sirius replied with a grin. He drew a breath to no doubt launch into an explanation, but a throat being cleared interrupted him. The two teens turned to see the man from before, standing with his arms crossed loosely over his chest and a look of wry amusement on his face.

“Are you going to introduce me, nephew?” he said. Sirius grinned up at him unabashedly.

“Right, right. Uncle, this is James Potter,” he said, waving an arm in James’ direction. James just barely remembered himself in time and quickly grasped the man’s hand when he held it out for a shake. “James, this is my Uncle Alphard.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, James,” Alphard said, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope,” James replied, shooting a look at Sirius. He was distracted when Alphard leaned forward suddenly and rested a hand on his head. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Alphard stepped back with a sardonic smile.

“You’ll have to excuse me, James. You just remind me of your mother,” he said.

James blinked and shared a confused look with Sirius. “My mum, sir?”

“Oh yes. You have her smile,” Alphard said, and then when they continued to look confused, moved to explain. “Your mother, before she married your father, was a Black.” James had known that already but found himself surprised by Alphard’s next words. “She’s my aunt, though we’re close enough in age we were more like cousins. I spent many summers with her at Grimmauld Place causing trouble, especially for your mother, Sirius.”

After a moment of silence, where James stared up at Alphard in surprise, Sirius spoke. “So wait, if James’ mum is your aunt, then that means James and I are, what… second cousins?”

“First cousins, once removed actually,” Alphard clarified. James and Sirius stared at each other for a moment before wide smiles appeared on both of their faces.

“Wicked,” they said together, causing Alphard to give a huff of laughter. The three chatted for a few more minutes before the warning whistle from the train interrupted them.

“You two better be off,” Alphard said, nodding towards the train. “It was nice meeting you, James.”

“You too, sir,” James replied, resituating his shoulder bag as Sirius gave one last hug to his uncle. Alphard turned towards the barrier, and James and Sirius made their way to the front of the train, fighting past the crowds of parents.

“Do you reckon Remus and Peter are already on the train?” Sirius said as they clambered aboard. James opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a voice from around the corner.

“Yes, we are actually.” James and Sirius turned to find Remus and Peter, both wearing large smiles and carrying their bags. Sirius pushed past James to throw his arms around them, which resulted in all three of them slamming against the opposite wall. Amidst Remus loud complaints and Peter helpless giggling, James could hear the last whistle blowing and irritated grumbles from the doorway behind him.

“Alright, let’s go,” James said, yanking Sirius back and shoving him none too gently towards an empty looking compartment. Peter followed, still snickering, and after a moment to hike up his bag and straighten his clothes, Remus did as well.

“Oi, move it up there!”

“Yeah yeah, keep your hair on!” James called back, following his friends. He found them clustered around the outside of the compartment having what looked like a whispered argument. “What’s the hold up?”

Sirius nodded his head sharply towards the inside of the compartment and when James peered inside, he could see it wasn’t as empty as he’d thought. Inside sat Hadrian Moores, head propped on his fist as he stared out the window.

“There isn’t an empty one, Peter and I already checked!” Remus was whispering fiercely.

“But with Moores? Really?” Sirius said, making a face. Peter glanced apprehensively at James and then took a breath to speak.

“I don’t think he’ll mind, Sirius,” he said hesitantly.

Sirius shot a dark look at Peter. “That’s not what I’m worried about,” he said, and then rolled his eyes when Remus glared at him and then glanced pointedly behind James where a line of disgruntled students had formed.  Sirius followed his gaze and then looked at James, who just shrugged.

“Fine,” Sirius snapped, and slid the door open with a loud crack. Inside, Moores jumped at the sound and then stared at them in surprise as they filled inside. “Sorry, Moores, looks like you’re sharing with us,” Sirius said, without a hint of apology in his tone.

“Er- No, that’s fine,” Moores said, scooting over as Peter dropped down next to him. His auburn hair was longer than it had been in June and James watched as he flattened his fringe against his forehead, made a face, and then brushed it out of his eyes.

After a bit of shuffling, James ended up next to Sirius, who sat across from Moores, with Remus on his other side. An awkward silence descended on the group as the train left the station, punctuated by Sirius staring moodily out the window and Moores glancing uncertainly between them and the scenery outside. James shared a look with Peter, who looked extremely uncomfortable, and then jumped as Remus suddenly cleared his throat.

“How was your summer, Hadrian?” he said, pointedly ignoring the strained atmosphere. Moores glanced at Sirius and then resolutely turned towards Remus.

“Not bad. How was yours?” he said. Remus responded and the two struck up a conversation that James mostly tuned out. Moore’s didn’t seem like that bad of a guy, but this certainly wasn’t how James wanted to spend the next eight hours. Beside him, Sirius was still doggedly staring out the window and trying to appear as though he was ignoring all of them, but James could see the way his fist was gripping his trouser leg and knew he was listening.

As long as James had known him, Sirius had always been passionate. He threw himself whole-heartedly into everything he did, and that included disliking someone. He could also hold quite hold a grudge, although surprisingly he wasn’t the worst about such things in their group. That dubious honor went to Remus, as James had found out in their first year when he’d transfigured all of Remus’ underwear to be bright pink and frilly. Remus hadn’t spoken to James for a week, and James had found all of his robes had been spelled to smell of bacon. It was nice at first, but as the days wore on and James couldn’t find a way to stop it, it had grown more and more nauseating.  

James was brought back to the present when Remus jabbed him sharply in the side. “Ow! What?!”

“I was asking you whether your parents were in Gryffindor,” Remus said, lowering his absurdly pointy elbow. James glowered at him and rubbed his side.

“My dad was,” he said after a moment, sitting up straight with a wince. “Mum was actually in Slytherin.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Moores look up sharply.

“Really?” Remus asked, surprised.

“Yeah, though she said she only went for Slytherin because of her parents. The Sorting Hat was also considering Ravenclaw,” James replied. He felt Sirius sit up a bit at that and when James looked over he saw him staring at the floor contemplatively.

“I almost did the same thing,” Sirius said slowly and James saw the other three look over, surprise clear on their faces. “But the hat decided on Gryffindor. It said I showed a lot of bravery for ‘sticking to my morals and defying my family’, or something.”

“Well there you go. Clearly, you’re the white sheep of the Black family,” James said, bumping his shoulder with Sirius teasingly. Sirius grinned back gratefully and then his eyes cut over to Moores.

“What about you, Moores? I thought I saw you talking back to the hat when you were being sorted,” he said after a moment. Moores blinked, clearly taken aback and then shrugged uncertainly.  

“It was a bit confused when it was going through my head,” he said, tapping one of his temples. James looked around and judging by the looks on the others faces he wasn’t alone in his confusion. Moores sighed and then his lips twisted into a self-depreciative smile.

“I have amnesia,” he explained and James felt his eyebrows shoot up. “I have no memory of anything earlier than the summer before last.” James opened his mouth, and then closed it again when he couldn’t think of anything to say. Peter however, didn’t seem to have this problem.

“Was it a Memory Charm?” he said, and then flinched when Remus swatted his knee. “What?! I’m just asking!”

“Sorry, Hadrian,” Remus apologized, but Moores waved him off.

“It’s fine,” he said. “And no Peter, it wasn’t. I was checked out at St. Mungos, but they couldn’t find anything.” Remus opened his mouth, eyebrows furrowed, but Moores went on. “They don’t think it was any sort of potion either.”

“What about your parents? Do they have any idea?” Sirius said suddenly. When Moores didn’t answer for a moment, James glanced over and saw that he was shifting uncomfortably. The silence went on for another moment before Moores shrugged one shoulder and took a deep breath.

“I don’t have parents,” he said and James wanted to kick Sirius, hard. “Or if I do, I don’t know who or where they are. I was found alone, and so far we don’t know where I came from.”

It took a long while for anyone to think of something to say after that. 

Chapter Text

October 11^th, 1973

            It was the incessant cawing of a raven that finally woke him that morning. As he blinked away the haze of sleep, he slowly began to feel the pain of the injuries he’d sustained the night before. This particular morning, he was sure that his leg was broken. The memories of his nights spent as the wolf were always fuzzy, but he could vaguely remember a loud crack and blinding flash of pain when the wolf had flung itself off the banister in a fit of pique.  Staring up at the bits of grey sky he could see through the roof, he waited, naked and bruised, for Madame Pomfrey to come and collect him. He’d learned from experience that trying to get up on his own would only lead to more pain for him than was necessary.

            He couldn’t be sure how much time had passed when he finally heard the trap door open. He slowly rolled his head to the side and saw Madame Pomfrey clambering up. She was in her healer robes, as always, but she also carried a spare cloak folded over one arm. When she caught sight of his position on the floor she tutted under her breath and hurried over, wand out and a diagnostic spell on her lips.

            The wash of magic that passed over him left a gentle warmth that Remus definitely appreciated on this cold fall morning. “Mornin’,” he croaked, a small smile curving his lips.

            “Don’t speak, dear. Your vocal cords are strained enough already,” she admonished gently. With a wave of her wand he felt the bones in his leg knit back together. Another wave and the air around him heated drastically, which stopped the shivering Remus hadn’t even been aware of. After a moment and several more spells, Madame Pomfrey helped him sit up, and then stand when he gave the okay.

            The world spun sickeningly, but after a second or two it faded, leaving him wobbly but standing. She helped him into the robe and pulled the hood up and over his head. It would shield his face if any student happened to catch sight of him on their way back up to the castle.

            Remus would like to say he managed to walk back through the passage, but he only made it a handful of steps before he’d had to slam a hand against the crumbly walls to keep himself upright. Madame Pomfrey hadn’t been impressed, and when he’d relented, had levitated him behind her with a look he was sure she reserved for her most stubborn patients.

            After that, they made quick progress, reaching the castle before even the most diligent of students would awake. The staircases had been kind, and they reached the Hospital Wing quickly, whereupon Remus was levitated right into one of the beds. He lied back against the pillows and closed his eyes against the sense of vertigo he always experienced after being levitated.

            The press of a cool hand against his forehead woke him sometime later. The sun was high in the window outside and a quick glance at the old grandfather clock on the corner showed that it was nearing lunch time. Madame Pomfrey stood at his bedside, wand held aloft and a frown on her face.

            “You’ve developed a fever. Probably from lying on a cold floor all morning,” she said, eyeing him as though he’d done this just to spite her. He smiled as innocently as he could, a skill he learned from Sirius and James, and drank the potions she handed to him without complaint. He felt them kick in immediately. The general aches and pains from the transformation faded  and the headache he’d had since waking that morning went away as well.

            After another round of spells, Madame Pomfrey brought over a tray with a bowl of soup and a goblet of water. She helped him set it across his legs and then left him with strict instructions to empty both.

            He had to go especially slowly to keep from upsetting his stomach and it took close to a half hour until he’d managed to finish the soup. He was just sipping on the last of the water when a commotion from the large double doors made him look up.

            Hadrian Moores, covered in what looked like a mix of blood and large blisters, was being led into the room by a frantic Regulus Black. “Madame Pomfrey!” called Regulus, tugging Hadrian forward until he could sit on one of the beds. “Madame Pomfrey! We need help!” he called again when she didn’t appear. “Tilt your head back, no stop touching them!” He batted Hadrian’s hand away from his face and Remus could suddenly see his clearly badly broken nose. The blisters he had noticed before covered Hadrian’s entire face and neck and continued to grow, and then pop, leaking blood and fluid onto his robes.

            “Tilt your head forward, Mr. Moores, not back!” Madame Pomfrey snapped as she swept into the room. She vanished a large portion of the blood and fluid and then handed him a large rag to hold under his nose. “What happened?” she asked, prodding one of the leaking blisters on Hadrian’s cheek gently. Remus was very curious himself, but tried not to be too obvious with his staring.

            “He was cursed,” Regulus answered immediately, looking one step away from wringing his hands nervously. His composure was obviously a product of his upbringing, but Remus suspected that deep down he was a worrier. “That’s where the blisters came from. I didn’t hear what the spell was.”

            “And his nose?” Madame Pomfrey asked one hand on Hadrian’s chin, headless of the blood and fluid. She was gently turning his head back and forth.

            “He fell against one of the banisters. He hit his head pretty hard too,” Regulus answered, ignoring the glare Hadrian was aiming at him. “Is he going to be okay? Can you heal him?”

            “Yes, Mr. Black, he should be fine. I’ll hold him over night for the head,” she said, levelling a stern look at Hadrian when he groaned nasally. “No complaints out of you, Mr. Moores. How you keep managing to find your way into my Hospital Wing I’ll never know.”

            As she crossed the room to the potion cabinet, Remus watched as Regulus seemed torn between happiness that his friend was going to be fine, and abject misery. Hadrian reached over with the hand that wasn’t bloody and patted him on the arm.

            “I’b fin’d, Reg. Don’d worry,” he said smiling, but the action cause several more blisters to pop and with the blood still running from his nose it was not a comforting picture. Regulus went white and sat down heavily on the bed across from Hadrian.

            They sat quietly while Madame Pomfrey rooted around in the cabinet. Regulus was staring down at his hands with his shoulders slumped while Hadrian was holding one hand up and prodding at it with an interested look on his face. The blisters, it seemed, were spreading to the hand that had been hold the cloth against his nose. Remus glanced over to Madame Pomfrey, but was surprised when he saw her hands were clean and blister free.

            She bustled back to Hadrian’s bedside holding two separate bottles. She set them on the table next to his bed and then tapped the back side of her left hand with her wand. She then repeated this to her right hand and Remus realized she must be placing an Impervious Charm or some variant upon them.

            “Right then,” she said, pouring a bit of both potions into a goblet and then mixing them. “This is for the blisters. The spell that made them is borderline dark magic so they won’t take to spells very easily, but they’ll heal up fine this way.” She pointed her wand at Hadrian’s nose and with a muttered word, mended it. There was a loud crack and Remus winced at the sound. Regulus made a disgusted noise, his face turning a bit green.

            Hadrian took the goblet from Madame Pomfrey and drained it. When he handed it back to her he had a look of deep revulsion, but the effects were already evident. No new blisters were forming and when Madame Pomfrey vanished the blood and fluid from his face, nothing new took its place.

            “Thank you,” Hadrian said, clearly relieved to no longer be covered in blood. Madame Pomfrey nodded and vanished the goblet and the bloody cloth.

            “They’ll take until tonight to fade completely, but you shouldn’t scar,” she said. “You’ll get another potion to take care of the head in a couple hours and I’ll release you in the morning for classes.” Hadrian sighed dramatically but nodded his head. “I’ll get you pajamas.”

            It was only when Madame Pomfrey had left the room that Regulus finally broke. He rested his head in his hands and Remus could barely hear him moan that it was his fault, all his fault…

            “I don’t think friendship works that way,” Hadrian replied, shucking off his robes and starting to pull his tie loose.

            “Well, no,” Regulus replied, looking up. “But you always deal with them and you took that blister spell for me, don’t even try to say otherwise.” Hadrian just shrugged, unrepentant. “It’s not that I want to stop being your friend, but they’ll just keep cursing you, and believe me when I say it’ll get worse the longer to ignore them.”

            “Hey!” Hadrian exclaimed. “It’s not like I can’t take care of myself, thank you very much. I was just a bit distracted this time.”

            “With me,” Regulus pointed out and then paused, a contemplative look crossing his face. “So, I just need to be able to take care of myself too, so you don’t have to do it for me.”

            “You’re already ahead of everyone in our year,” Hadrian said as he started unbuttoning his shirt. The blisters had spread all the way down to his sternum before the potion had stopped them.

            “But I’m nowhere near you’re level!” Regulus protested and then stood up. “Teach me to duel like you do,” he demanded. Hadrian raised an eyebrow and Regulus relented. “Please.”

            “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he mused. Regulus opened his mouth to reply but Madame Pomfrey had returned so he sat back down without saying anything.

            Before long, Hadrian was nestled between the sheets of his own hospital bed, decked out in the same sort of blue striped pajamas as Remus. His robes had been sent with a house-elf for cleaning and he had a large book on his lap to keep him occupied. He was in the middle of persuading Regulus to head to classes.

            “You’re going to be late at this rate, and McGonagall will take points off,” he said to Regulus. Regulus shifted back and forth for a moment before relenting and promising to be back after dinner to visit. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got Remus to keep me company,” Hadrian said suddenly and Remus looked over in surprise. He hadn’t thought he’d been that blatant. Hadrian waved cheekily and Regulus rolled his eyes and left, tossing a wave over his shoulder.

            “So, what are you in for?” Hadrian said wagging his eyebrows. Remus grinned back, an excuse already on the tip of his tongue.

            “Prank gone wrong,” he replied and from there an easy conversation about pranks, dueling, and a number of other subjects began. Remus found that Hadrian was very easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. Before he knew it, several hours had passed and Madame Pomfrey told him off for not resting. She made him eat another bowl of soup, with several roles as well this time, and then handed him another two goblets of potion to drink. Remus felt his eyelids start to droop. The last thing he remembered was mumbling something vaguely threatening to grinning Hadrian, who was clearly far too amused for his own good.

            Sometime later, Remus was awoken by someone shaking his shoulder. He propped himself up on his elbows to see Sirius, James and Peter arranged around his bed. “’Lo,” he said, willing his racing heart to slow. He didn’t take well to being woken up.

            “How’s our favorite werewolf doing tonight?” Sirius said as he sat cross legged at the foot of Remus’ bed. Remus shushed him harshly and sat up. Sirius frowned and opened his mouth to reply but Remus pointed over to where he could make out a Hadrian sized lump across the room. Sirius nodded with a sheepish smile on his face. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed.    

            James and Peter sat in the visitor’s chairs and Remus gave them a rundown, trying to be as vague as possible, on what the wolf had gotten up to. Since term started they’d been strangely interested in his wolf form, asking odd questions and wondering what kind of injuries he suffered while transformed. Remus suspected they were up to something, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask. He didn’t think he could take it if they rebuffed him. He trusted them obviously, and they’d accepted him, wolf and all, but he still had a fear that someday he’d drive them off somehow. A childhood spent friendless and reviled wasn’t an easy thing to get over, he supposed.

            There was a lull in the conversation as he finished his tale and he looked up to see the three of them exchanging glances. Sirius and James were fidgeting, while Peter seemed to almost be bouncing in his chair. Remus opened his mouth, unsure of what was about to come out of it, but Sirius spoke before he could.

            “We’re going to become animagi!” he burst, overcome with his excitement. Remus stared at him for a moment and then looked to James and Peter. They were nodding vigorously, wide smiles on their faces.

            “Okay?” Remus said, feeling like he was missing something important. “What brought this on?”

            “Well,” James said, still very excited. “We saw that demonstration McGonagall gave in Transfiguration and it got us to thinking cause ever since we found out about-“

            “-your furry little problem,” Sirius cut in, looking incredibly proud of himself. Remus glared at him out of the corner of his eye, but looked back to James when he continued.

            “Yes, that. Since we found out we’ve wanted to, well, help you somehow,” and for some reason he started to look the faintest bit nervous. “And we thought that if we become animagi, we’d be able to turn into animals and werewolves aren’t dangerous to animals, right?”

            Remus nodded and felt a sinking feeling somewhere around his stomach. Were they so afraid of what he was they wanted a way to make sure they were safe? They certainly hadn’t acted like it before, but maybe it had just taken a while to sink in and that’s why they had suddenly started asking questions about it.

            “So, that way we could join you when you transform and keep you company!” Peter finished.

            Wait, what?

            “What?!” Remus exclaimed, forgetting about being quiet. He subsided when Hadrian groaned and shuffled. After a tense moment, he quieted and Remus repeated his question. “What are you talking about?” he whispered harshly.

            “You won’t be alone this way,” James said quickly. “And maybe this way you won’t be so beat up after each time.”

            “Yeah, because I’ll beat you all up instead!” Remus replied fiercely. “Are you all mad?!”

            “No, but-“

            “You must be! Your offering to spend time around a transformed werewolf! That’s suicidal!”

             “No, werewolves only prey on humans, not animals!” Sirius replied hotly. “We’d be perfectly safe! Well, maybe not perfectly,” he amended at Remus’ look. “But a hell of a lot safer than we’d be as humans. We just want to help you, Remus!”

            At their pleading looks, Remus felt his resolve weaken and a warm, fuzzy feeling started to fill his chest. They weren’t afraid, they just wanted to help. Against his will a grin started to pull at the edges of his lips. “It’s not like I could stop you if I tried,” he said, trying to sound reluctant but knew he sounded excited instead.

            The other three grinned and then when James glanced down at his watch and cursed, promised to come see him tomorrow. Remus waved as they left and settled back against his pillows. He suddenly felt far too awake to sleep and his fingers itched to start researching how to become an animagus.

            However, after a moment another feeling started to invade his happy bubble. It wasn’t something he could explain, it was one of those instinctual things he got from the wolf sometimes. With a sinking heart, he slowly looked to where Hadrian was lying and took a deep breath.

            “Hadrian?” he said hoarsely, praying that he was wrong. He felt his heart stutter in his chest when the boy simply sat up, clearly wide awake.

            “Sorry,” Hadrian said. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you guys were kind of loud.” After a moment of silence where Remus was too terrified to speak and could only stare at his clenched hands, Hadrian continued. “So, I suppose that’s the real reason you’re here?” Remus nodded with jerking movements. “It must be really awful.”

            Remus looked up sharply to see Hadrian smiling at him sympathetically. “I know a guy who’s a werewolf,” he explained and Remus felt the ball of tension in his gut start to loosen. “He’s the nicest bloke you could ever meet, but just because he’s a werewolf people hate and fear him. I’ve never really understood it.”

Hadrian’s smile softened and Remus wondered how he’d managed to get so lucky.  “I may not remember much, but I know that it isn’t right to judge someone based on what they can’t control. It isn’t like you asked to turn into a werewolf, right?”

            “Well, no,” Remus fumbled. Hadrian grinned and then motioned significantly towards the clock.

            “We’d probably better get to sleep or Pomfrey will blame me for keeping you up,” he said and then lied back down when Remus nodded dumbly. “Good night.”

            “Good night, Hadrian,” Remus whispered back. He sat silently for several seconds, half convinced he’d just dreamed the whole conversation. Eventually he lied down, though he knew he definitely wouldn’t be getting to sleep for a long time.

            When he did finally fall back asleep, it was with a small smile on his face and he dreamt of four figures frolicking beneath a full moon, with a fifth flying high above them.