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It's Peter who suggests it. Remus has been thinking about it, too, but Peter is the one to say something. Remus thinks he's brave.
"What if we followed them?"
There's a smudge of ink on the table. Remus rubs at it with his thumb and tries not to smile. "That's breaking the rules."
"Yeah, but they do it every night, don't they?"
"Not every night."
"Five times each week is close enough. I want to know where they're going."
Remus glances over to the armchairs in front of the fire, at the figures silhouetted in flickering light. "I am curious," he admits, "but d'you really think it's a good idea? Who knows what they get up to?"
"That's my point!" Peter says, slapping his palm on the table. "Who knows? What if it's exciting?"
"It's probably not. I bet they go read books in the library or something."
Peter rolls his eyes. "You'd fit right in, then." He laughs at the face Remus makes. "I'm gonna follow them even if you don't. But you're coming, I know." He hesitates. "You are, aren't you?"
"Well…" Remus looks up. Peter's hair has fallen across his face, but it doesn't hide his grin. "Fine. I can't let you wander around by yourself anyways."
A few minutes later, they go upstairs along with the rest of the crowd, a troupe of yawning boys falling into bed. Half an hour passes before Peter sticks his head through Remus's curtains and shakes his shoulder. "Wake up. They're gone."
Remus stumbles out of bed and shuffles down the staircase after Peter. He can barely see through his groggy eyes.
"Why did you fall asleep?" Peter demands as they pass through the empty common room. He lights his wand. "It took me two minutes to wake you up. They could be anywhere by now."
"I didn't mean to," Remus says, blinking in the sudden flare. The corridor outside the Fat Lady's portrait looks mysterious and forbidding in the dim glow.
"I hope we can find them." They tiptoe forward. "Maybe—"
"Shh!" Remus freezes, listening. From around the corner come quiet voices.
"…the mirror. Uncle Alphie wouldn't lie about it."
"Sure, because he's just gonna tell you all sorts of ways to leave the castle."
"Why wouldn't he?"
"Merlin's beard!" Remus hears a sigh and the sound of a bare foot striking the stone floor. "I still say there's something up with that tapestry."
"What, Barnabas the Bastard?"
"Barnabas the Barmy, actually, and I swear, that whole corridor's dodgy."
"We can check that one out later. Can we please just try the mirror tonight? I want to tell Uncle Alphie about it over the holidays."
"Fine, but it's the tapestry tomorrow, all right?"
"Yeah, all right. Let's go."
Remus exchanges a glance with Peter. The hall echoes enough that each footstep is clearly audible, but they creep forward nevertheless.
They're halfway down the staircase to the sixth floor when an immense clanking reverberates along the walls. There are shouts, and a burst of light, and Remus takes off running, all secrecy forgotten. They'll all be caught if the noise doesn't stop.
The scene that greets him is difficult to take in. At the opposite end of the corridor a door has swung open, and one of the boys is halfway through it. The other is hanging on to his pajama shirt, apparently pulling him out—or trying to. Something's got hold of his foot.
"Don’t!" Peter hisses, but Remus is already moving. Drawing near, he can make out shadowy figures moving on the other side of the doorway, one with an iron grip on the boy's shirt. He joins the other boy and starts to pull as well, but it's useless. Even together, the two of them are nowhere near strong enough. He reaches for his wand—and it's in his dormitory.
"Peter," he whispers, holding out a hand. There's no response. He looks around to see that Peter is still by the stairs, looking panicked. There's no point in talking quietly anymore. "Peter, come here!" he calls. Giving a start, Peter hurries forward. "I need to borrow your wand."
"You forgot yours?" Peter sounds incredulous, but he hands it to Remus without hesitation.
"Flipendo!" In a burst of blue light, the boy is released, his captor knocked backwards to sprawl on the floor. The flash illuminates a metal helmet and gauntlets. It's a suit of armor, Remus realizes, and the room is full of them.
"Colloportus!" Peter cries. The wand in Remus's hand jerks suddenly, and the door slams shut.
The silence in the corridor is instantaneous and absolute, except for the breathing of the boy kneeling on the stone. Sirius gets to his feet, shaking back long black hair. "Thanks for the help," he says irritably, wrinkling his nose at his friend.
James crosses his arms. "I was trying," he shoots back. "If you hadn't gotten so close to the door, I wouldn't have had to do anything at all."
"How was I supposed to know they'd all attack me?"
"This is the Glanmore Peakes corridor, idiot. Everyone knows they go on watch after sundown."
"They do not—"
"Actually," interrupts Remus, "they do." Peter nods in agreement.
Sirius looks at him for a long moment before smiling. Although they've shared a dormitory for three months, it's the first truly friendly expression Remus can remember seeing. "Really?" He doesn't sound as frustrated as before.
"Yeah," Remus says, faltering in the face of that smile. "Except for you, apparently."
"That's right." Sirius laughs.
"Keep your voice down," Peter urges.
Sirius turns to him, looking as if he's about to refuse, but he just sizes him up and grins more widely. "Thanks, seriously," he says in a whisper. "You, too." He nods to Remus. "Who knows what they would've done to me?"
"Nothing," interrupts James. "They'd've held you until a teacher found you. Speaking of which, do we want to hang about until someone catches us?"
"You're right. We should get moving."
"D'you two want to come?" James points his wand between Remus and Peter, an open and unexpected invitation.
"Well…" Peter looks suddenly uncertain.
Remus sees Sirius throw him a glance, lightning-quick. It's hopeful, he thinks, but also challenging. A dare. "Sure," he says, more nonchalantly than he feels, and is satisfied with the glow in Sirius's eyes. "What exactly are you doing, anyways?"
"Cataloguing," Sirius tells him and Peter as they set off down the stairs. "We're trying to find all the passages out of the school."
"Why?"
"Because it's fun," says Sirius in a tone that implies this is obvious.
"I mean, why at night?"
"Like I said, it's fun."
James snickers. "You didn't think it was so much fun when the suit of armor grabbed you, though."
"Shut up."
James takes advantage of Sirius's silence to look over his shoulder at Peter and Remus. "Why were you following us, anyways, if you're so afraid of being out at night?"
"We're not afraid," Peter replies indignantly. "We wanted to know what you were doing sneaking around all the time."
"Well," says James, "now you know." They come to the bottom of the second staircase, on the fourth floor. "Is it fun?"
"More like stupidly risky," Remus says. "It's so easy to get caught."
"Hey, now." James crosses his arms, still walking ahead. "This was the first close call we've had." He pauses. "Maybe you two are bad luck."
"They saved my life," Sirius points out.
"Your life? Please. Your reputation, maybe." James slows to a halt in front of a large ornate mirror between the tapestries of Herpo the Foul and Laverne de Montmorency.
"This is it?" Peter sounds doubtful.
"Yep." James rolls his eyes. "It's probably nothing. Sirius thinks he's been handed free tips on the castle, just because he's his uncle's favorite nephew. I say there's nothing there."
Sirius looks wounded. "It's better than a bloody corridor."
Remus sighs. How do they get anything done, arguing with each other every thirty seconds? "So how do you open it?" he asks.
"No idea." Sirius pulls out his wand. "Maybe you just have to tap it." He gives the glass a sharp rap, but nothing happens.
"Could be around the frame," James suggests. Despite his complaints, he seems to relish the challenge. He sets about tapping a few times on each side.
"It's not working," Sirius says after a few moments.
"Thanks for stating the obvious. Do you have any better ideas?"
Sirius shrugs. "What if it's like that witch statue? How are we supposed to find an incantation for it?"
"One word," James says, smiling crookedly. "Research." Sirius gives a loud groan. "Oh, cheer up. It could be a lot simpler than that."
"I think you're right," Remus says, running a hand along the golden frame.
"It's simple because there's nothing here." James shakes his head. "This is pointless."
"No," Remus begins, and Sirius interrupts.
"See? Listen to Lupin." He claps Remus on the shoulder. "How come we weren't friends earlier? I need someone who takes my side against James."
Remus stops trying to talk and simply gives the frame a solid shove. There's a muted clank. The others fall silent to watch the whole mirror tilt to one side before swinging out into the corridor. In the wall behind it is a dark passage, six feet tall and wide enough for two to walk side by side.
Remus turns around to find Sirius, James, and Peter staring at him. "What?"
"How'd you figure that out?" Sirius demands.
"I don't know." Remus shrugs. "I just tried it, and it worked."
"They're muggle gears," says Peter, moving to inspect the machinery on the back of the frame.
James claps his hands, making Remus jump. "Well, let's not waste any more time. I'm going in." He steps up into the passage, two feet off the floor of the corridor.
Peter goes next, his lit wand held high, and then Sirius. He looks back at Remus. "You coming?"
Remus hesitates. It's one thing to wander around the school, another entirely to leave it. The penalties, when he's already risking so much…
"C'mon," Sirius urges. "Think what we could find in here." He holds out a hand.
Remus takes it.