Chapter Text
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Sirius Black had always found his elder brother strange. He was quiet - which in itself, was very strange for Blacks - controlled, so obviously there was some kind of genetic mistake that ensured he was not like their parents - and protective. Extraordinarily protective, like Sirius and their little brother Regulus were going to die any moment.
Draco Abraxas Black was simply strange.
It wasn't just the big things - like the fact he had blonde hair and features unlike the normal Blacks - but the little things, the way he was always steely and tauntingly rude to their cousin Bella - who was really scary, Sirius admitted - but stuttered when he talked to Cissy and Andy, who were the sweetest people in their family.
Not that that is saying much.
It was the way he always just knew how people around them were going to react, the way he didn't make mistakes with authority or the common mistakes of a kid. The way he secretly received owls from Salazar knows who, long before going to Hogwarts. The way he never lost control of his accidental magic, so much so, that the family thought him a squib at first.
Draco had shown them better.
"Goes to show, doesn't it, Wally?" Aunt Druella had said, in that simpering, patronizing voice of hers. "If things seem too good to be true, they usually are."
Walburga Black, Sirius's mother, had stared at her impassively, her shoulders tensing. It was a matter of conflict between them, that Druella had three daughters and Walburga had three sons. Three sons, three heirs - and Druella hadn't even been able to produce one. But now, one of those sons - a squib?
Daughters were better than squibs.
"There's still time, Druella," Walburga finally replied, stiffly. "Draco is just eight. Magic can manifest at any age."
Aunt Druella laughed, and it sounded like a rusty bell - Sirius had been listening at the door and he had hated it - he wondered how bad Draco felt about it. The whole discussion, of how he's a squib, the worst kind of insult, really.
But Draco's lips were twitching in amusement, as he heard Walburga and Druella argue over the fact that the eldest son of the Black family, the Heir Apparent, the Crown Prince was or was not a squib.
"My daughters are really doing so beautifully with their governess," Druella continued, sighing in apparent tiredness. "Bella has an unusual fire in her, and suitors would find that highly attractive, don't you agree? From our side, we don't need to prune any branches on the family tree..."
Sirius looked at Draco with wide eyes, whose face had gone stony, as Walburga set down her tea cup with a crack.
"I will not have you insulting my son and I in my own home, Druella," Walburga said, her eyes flashing with rage. "My son is not a squib!"
"Are you convincing me or yourself, sister?" Druella had stood up, her tone grave but her eyes laughing with amusement.
Sirius gasped softly as Draco shook off his arm from his shoulder and walked into the room. The ladies immediately fell silent, in shock, until -
"Auntie Druella," Draco began, in a sugary sweet voice as Sirius held his breath, scared. "Just because I haven't had any visible accounts of accidental magic, doesn't mean I don't have any, of course. Are you really disputing the merit of a Black Heir?"
"Oh, talking about magic - "
"Haven't I warned you not to listen at - "
Walburga and Druella began simultaneously, and Sirius peeked out, they obviously were too distracted with Draco to look at him.
Draco was standing in the middle of the room, still smiling - like he couldn't care less - and staring unnervingly at Druella.
"You see, Auntie," he continued, still in that same, condescending voice. "I have always been able to control my magic, and I don't see the need to prove myself to the likes of you."
His posture and his voice, clear and commanding, made him sound more like their father than an eight year old.
Druella laughed derisively, "Really, darling? Forgive me if I don't believe you. Children really cannot control their magic, if they have any, that is."
She aimed the last part pointedly at Walburga who was almost fuming, glaring at Druella and Draco both.
Draco glanced between them, his eyes narrowing and Sirius watched with bated breath, as he stretched his palm outwards, facing up to Druella and whispered, "Burn."
His hand seemed to catch aflame, and Walburga's mouth dropped open, along with Druella's - who was staring with wide, shocked eyes - as the orange, yellow flames dancing across his palm - took the shape of a dragon, which reared and blew fire and smoke, until Draco pushed it off towards Druella.
She screamed, as the miniature, fiery dragon leapt straight to her face, clearly leaving a dark burn mark.
"Draco - Draco - what is - " she said, her voice high and fearful. "Take this dragon off - me, right this instant!"
"I'm afraid I cannot control my accidental magic," he said, calmly. "After all, I am but a mere child."
Walburga stared after him, shocked, a strange kind of pride in her eyes as she took out her wand and vanished the dragon, and Draco took Sirius by the arm and led him out, muttering something like, "Never did like my idiotic grandmother."
Nobody had questioned his magic after that.
There were, however still a lot of things questionable about Draco.
The letters he received, just kept increasing - and when Sirius asked him who he was in touch with - Draco had replied with a shrug and "Acquaintances," which made no sense because he always smiled when he read them - a friend-smile - and anyway, where had he met these people? Unless Draco had made acquaintances in the first two years of his life, Sirius and Draco were always together.
But, Sirius had no way of knowing - and he wasn't a snitch, so he couldn't even ask his parents if they knew - his loyalty lay with Draco, just like Regulus's.
Draco protected them from their mother's rage, their father's indifference - let Sirius go out into Muggle London and pet the little labrador that lived with the people in Number 11, always gave them answers about topics their parents considered law, and encouraged them to think for themselves - he helped Regulus paint the wall in his room with Slytherin colours, and didn't even blink when Sirius refused with a hesitant, "What if I'm not in Slytherin?"
Sirius loves his elder brother.
And he wouldn't give him up for the world.
___________
Remus Lupin knew he should be grateful. But all he could feel, down to his very bones, was chill. Cold fear.
Grateful, grateful, grateful - he really was.
He was incredibly grateful to Professor Dumbledore for letting him attend Hogwarts, for the arrangements he had made, for the friends he had made already.
It seemed unstable, unsustainable - this friendship of theirs. Too good to last.
It was slightly unnerving how he had made friends so easily. With no effort on his own part, really. James Potter and Sirius Black had been joint by the hip since day one, a tight duo, a friendship that Remus knew would only grow with time.
He, on the other hand, he hadn't expected them to like him, too. But they did. Atleast, they seemed to.
James seemed to care when he had lied about his ill mother who had to be visited on Friday - his first full moon at Hogwarts - and Sirius had given him a chocolate, with a whispered "Eat it before you go, it'll help you feel better" - Peter, another one of their dorm mates, a short, thin boy with mousy hair - had hugged him comfortingly.
James and Sirius had come to Hogwarts with full information on everything.
Secret Passages, Kitchens, teachers - everything. It was probably because they were purebloods from well known families and of course, their respective elder brothers.
Draco Black, one of the only decent Slytherins, and Harry Potter - a Gryffindor third year. They were extraordinarily popular, and Remus, who had been there only a week, could also easily tell.
Their group was a tight knit one, seven of them - Draco Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Evans - Lily's older sister, Ron and Ginny Prewett - younger siblings of the Prewett twins, Luna Lovegood, a slightly odd looking Ravenclaw, and another Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. They were all in third year, and Remus had heard rumours of how they could easily beat the NEWT students in duels, too. He hadn't ever personally talked to any of them, and frankly, they seemed too perfect, and too powerful, too everything, really - he would be scared shitless if he had to.
Sirius and James talked about their brothers constantly, and Remus tamped down his envy - he had always been an only child. Not that his parents needed anymore burden, he thought, bitterly.
"Immobulus," Madam Pomphrey said, flicking her wand at the branch of the Whomping Willow.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, he chanted as he walked with her into the Shack. He wondered how loud his howls would be - and if everybody would be able to hear them. Hopefully, everything would go fine today, maybe he could live at Hogwarts for just a month more before he had to worry about expulsion -
But hope had never come so easily to a child like Remus.
Madam Pomphrey smiled pitifully at him one last time, before turning and leaving the Shack. Remus took a deep breath to calm himself, trying to become more familiar with the place, when suddenly -
"She's gone, isn't she?" an oddly calm voice of a girl, floated out of nowhere.
Remus startled, badly, backing up into the wall behind him - his heart beating fast - he almost felt like laughing hysterically, One Week Wonder Werewolf at Hogwarts, before he was discovered and executed.
Executed. Oh, god.
This was too real - too fast - he thought, as the people, because obviously, there were more, clearly took off their disillusionment charms, and shed off a cloak.
Invisibility cloak. Sure. Why not?
And standing right in front of him, and his assuredly pale and scared face, was the group of the seven people that he had been thinking about earlier.
Clearly, Fate loved laughing at him.
Hermione Evans strode forward slowly, her arms held up like she was trying to not scare him - which was tragically funny, seeing as she was the one who should be scared of the Werewolf on a full moon - as Harry Potter nudged Ginny Prewett, who had opened her mouth to say something.
"Its alright, Remus," she said, as Remus detachedly wondered how she knew his name. "We aren't gonna hurt you. Its alright, we're here to help."
It takes a lot of calming down, from Luna, Hermione, and Harry, and some awkward back patting from the Prewett siblings, for him to finally speak, "How - how did you know that - that I'm a - how did you know to come here?"
Both the Slytherins exchange looks at the back, one of them rolling his eyes, looking bored.
"Just some logical deducing," Hermione finally says, wincing and Remus wonders just how much he looks like a monster, normally, too.
"Okay," Ginny says, clapping her hands together, and glancing out of the window, even as Remus feels the pull of the moon. "Point is, we know you're a Werewolf," she ignores his flinch, "And we're all trusting you with a secret, too. We're all Illegal Animagi."
Remus gapes at her, third years and apparently Animagi?
She doesn't wait for his reply, instead continues, "So, we can keep you company during your transformation, and make sure you don't hurt anyone or yourself."
Yourself? Remus finds that idea foreign, as if anyone cares whether a werewolf can harm himself. But the five in front of him, nod firmly.
"I can't believe we're really spending our Friday night like this," Blaise grumbles from the back, as Remus flushes and ducks his head, it's not like he asked for their help, and Hermione glares at the Slytherin sternly.
"No, seriously, Potter," Draco says too, standing his ground when they all turn to him. "If you just told me a week earlier, I could have brewed Wolfsbane for him, and all this wouldn't be necessary - "
Remus has never heard of Wolfsbane, or what it does but he doesn't hear anything after that - as the moon appears through the small window and Remus screams, his bones starting to crack and break and shift -
He hears Harry yelling at them all to change, his skin is tearing, it feels itchy, and dirty - but most of all, the pain - pain - pain -
The moonlight shines through the window, and his eyes transform - this is always the last part of the evening he remembers, the way he feels his eyes slitting, turning golden - and he doesn't scream anymore.
The wolf howls.
And for the first time forever, he can smell. Smell prey - pack - who is around him - the little details zoom past - he feels a sharp thud to his head as he realizes that he's tried to break out through the window -
The moon is calling him.
The wolf howls.
And suddenly, something - somebody is stopping him - what's coming in his path - the wolf is so, so angry - he blinks -
Its another wolf.
A silver, sleek thing, with shining fur and a long snout, who stops him from tearing at his own limbs - he attacks without another thought - and then he feels himself being pulled back, something is curling around his body and under his limbs -
Its a giant serpant.
A massive, long, thick snake - with a crown and a plume, and bulbous eyes - the wolf can't see colors, but he knows that this beast could swallow him whole - and so the animalistic urge to attack dies down a little.
Somewhere ahead, flames rage.
He doesn't know if its real or not but there's a Dragon in front of him, not of the typical size, a great deal smaller, but fearsome in its own sense, there's fire and a burst of wings and the door swings open, the wolf runs, to freedom, to hunt -
His pack - they haven't attacked him yet, so they must be - follows him.
The wolf runs through the forest, seven creatures sharp on his heels, he can sense them - and they don't wish him harm, he can tell - he catches glimpses of a dark, winged horse, a Thestral? - two Lions, mates, prancing about elegantly, almost playing with him - and a bright, beautiful Bird flying on top -
Its exhilarating. Liberating.
Its beautiful - he can barely feel any pain, anymore - he's free, free, free.
He feels nothing more, the hours pass, and the sun rises.
He hates this part of the morning. The part where he wakes up, and the pain takes but a moment to come.
He waits - waits - and then, sits up.
No pain.
But how is that possible -
Exhaling, remembering last night, the strange, strange dream -
His thoughts screech to a blaring stop, as something cold and wet drips on him, and he spins around.
Its a Phoenix. Not Dumbledore's Phoenix, this one is somehow brighter, and sharper, its eyes glassy and wide, as its tears fall on Remus's arm, healing a small gash on his forearm -
No way.
He stands up easily, sways on his feet a little, feeling weary and tired and overworked, but not injured. No bones broken, no nothing.
The Phoenix healed him, he realises. And if the bird is here, that means -
He notices the lions first. Just two lions, or rather, a Lion and a Lioness, sleeping peacefully, their golden-red heads interwined together.
Its surreal. He blinks a few times, details of last night hitting him like a storm.
The mattress behind him is also occupied. There's a huge snow wolf, and clearly, a young girl - just sleeping on him, resting her head on its belly, her fingers brushing his fur subconsciously. He sees the flash of red hair - and realizes, its Ginny Prewett.
Remus suddenly feels heat prickle the left of his neck, and he turns towards it, there's a literal - actual Dragon, just lying there -
Its size is small, for a dragon, just about the size of a very small car and its wings are large, a scaly bronze, curled protectively around - Harry Potter.
Who is - apparently - sleeping with a Dragon.
Remus shakes his head a few times, rubs his eyes as the Phoenix jumps down from its perching - and midway to the ground, transforms into Luna Lovegood.
He makes a small noise of surprise, and the animals wake immediately.
He watches as the Lions stretch and transform into Hermione and Ron, and the wolf turns into Blaise Zabini - who to Remus's mortification - immediately kisses Ginny, waking her up, as she kisses back with surprising force.
The dragon pushes Harry off him, before turning back - to Draco Black.
There's an awkward pause, until Harry says, "Mione, the eye thing for the Basilisk? It works."
Hermione smiles triumphantly, "Of course it does. Can you create the petrification eye cover film properly now?"
Harry looks sheepish and mutters a, "I'll practice more."
Remus doesn't know what to say. He's never felt more thankful - more confused - because why would they do this?
Hermione seems to understand. She smiles warmly, "You don't need to thank us. Just don't breathe a word about Animagi to anyone, and we'll be okay."
"Of course," Remus says, glad his voice came out evenly. "I - thank you. All of you. So much - Merlin, thank you."
They smile at him, and Remus feels like he's missed something, as they just start walking out - like it was nothing.
"Harry," he calls back, as Harry is the last one of leave. "Why - why did you - "
Harry smiles, a little sadly and slowly and says, "Because you don't deserve to be so alone, Remus."
They don't know him at all, and he's never known them before but Harry Potter thinks he deserves this. Somehow.
"You're going to be alright, Remus Lupin," he says, before walking out.
He really is.
And he feels it, the squeezing sensation in his heart - he's going to be completely alright.
Madam Pomphrey is extremely confused and thinks he has Asclepius's Blood, the way he's healed and ready to go.
Remus smiles and shrugs.
Sirius and James and Peter greet him with more chocolate frogs, and questions not just about his mother, but him too.
He's never felt his heart bursting with love as it does now.
__________
Severus Snape doesn't like Lily Evans anymore. He loves her, sure, like a sister - his oldest friend, but nothing more. He is embarrassed when he realizes how much of it was just a starvation, a hunger for affection, and friendship, for acceptance.
Its a strange realization, and not a very sudden one - something he explores as he watches Lily holding hands with a Ravenclaw Chaser - he feels nothing.
No desire, no longing, no wistful glances - he doesn't feel anything.
But, sometimes he looks at Selena Parkinson and likes her cutting opinions.
She's not nice, not by a big margin - she's not like Lily, who was soft and sweet with him, reproachful like a pseudo mother, Parkinson is harsh, and has sharp edges and cuts, strong opinions and biting retorts for everybody.
He likes it. He can admire it.
The way she treats him, not like a fragile glass vase that could break and turn dark if not treated properly - she likes his darkness, traces his scars with a glint in her eyes, and a promise to destroy. She isn't good, not like Lily, she's - she's just herself.
She's a Muggleborn too, the only one in Slytherin - but her duelling is by far the best, and she's punched Lucius Malfoy once, right in the face.
Its enough for him.
Severus doesn't want a mark on his arm, he hates tattoos anyway. He wants a Mastery in Defense, and an Apprenticeship in Potions - and maybe, just maybe, to work in the Department of Mysteries, research dark magic.
He loves mysteries, after all, and he's a master of keeping secrets and appearances.
He has a new secret now, a new alliance. A secret that could get him killed - but when Selena comes to him in the library, and asks for help with Charms, even though he knows she's better at it than him, he thinks -
Its worth it.
On Christmas, he sends a small gift to Draco Black - who first introduced him to the wonder that is Selena Parkinson.
Because, really, just because Lily Evans was his whole world at a point, doesn't mean he can't ever have anybody else, does it?
He deserves it.
He deserves requited love, and he deserves happiness.
He deserves a choice.
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