Chapter 1
Sirius has heard the saying, “Eyes are the window to the soul,” many times— mostly by Effie, if he’s honest. Euphemia Potter, lovely woman she is, finds many ways to squeeze that little metaphor into conversation. Though she rarely uses that exact wording, it’s still the same, nonetheless. From simple quips at the dinner table, a crinkle in her eyes as she says, “I know you’re hungry, dearie— I can see it in your eyes,” piling stacks of food on his empty plate, to conversations held late at night, her hand rubbing his back in soothing, circling motions as he gasps for air, cooing whispers of, “It’s okay, love— no need to speak. Your eyes tell me enough.”
Sirius has never quite seen what others claim to see— eyes have always simply looked like eyes to him, nothing more— but he does, however, notice things. Things most others don’t. Things they have no need to bother with, but Sirius finds himself relying on. Growing up in a house like his— a place where a narrowing of the eyes could have a plethora of meanings, and the heaviness of one’s footsteps against the hardwood could tell a story— you learn to start paying attention. Suddenly, a raise of the eyebrows can determine the direction of a conversation, and the speed of which someone’s smile drops after they’re done laughing bridges the distance between life and death.
So yes, Sirius notices things. Far more than an average bloke might, if he’s honest. While he notices things about most everyone, he’s certainly more… attuned to his friends. James Potter, for example, is absurdly easy to read. Sirius has never met a bloke more expressive, or with more mannerisms, than that goofy git he calls a best friend. For one, he’s always touching his thick, round-rimmed glasses. It seems like a harmless motion— simply a tic, or a way to prevent the frames from slipping down the slope of his nose— but Sirius knows better. He knows that James pushes up the middle of the frames when he’s irritated, the side when he’s sad or disappointed, and just takes the damned things entirely off when he gets too overwhelmed. Sirius has confronted James about the last one, being met with the simple response of, “They begin to feel too heavy on my face, so I take them off for a moment to breathe.” No arguing with that, Sirius had supposed, and never mentioned it again.
James had different types of smiles, as well. There was the bright and beaming one, usually followed up quickly by a hug, or an affectionate tackle to the floor; the sly smirk, which was no more than a mischievous quirk of his lips, only appearing after a successful prank, or some other, less-than-moral, accomplishment. There was the extremely awkward one, which usually caused a furrow in his brows, and a far more distinct display of his dimples to be shown, as well as the fake smile, used only on teachers he planned on manipulating, or adults he was 100% lying to. Finally, there was his infamous, wolfish grin. This smile in particular truly terrorised the student body of Hogwarts, but not nearly as much as it did to one certain individual:
Lily Evans.
Lily was a muggleborn girl, sporting the most fiery red hair imaginable, and a stubbornness nearly rivalling Sirius’s own. Unfortunately for the poor bird, James was obsessed. Hilariously obsessed. Had been since the moment he’d laid eyes on her back in first year, Sirius reckons. Sirius could read Lily just as well— like an open book, if he’s honest. It wasn’t like Lily ever particularly tried hiding her emotions. In fact, she seemed to openly display them for all to see, stomping through hallways filled of innocent bystanders, all captivated and silenced by the clench of her jaw, and the twitch of her nose, vaguely reminiscent of a rabbit’s, in her wrath.
Lily liked to express her emotions using her entire body, making use of every available limb and muscle to ensure everyone knew exactly how she felt. On a good day, her flaming ponytail would be swinging— lips peacefully upturned, and the permanent crease between her agitated brows temporarily relaxed. However, on a less-than-great day, the girl was like a bloody missile— trampling over anyone who stepped in her way, taking points from little firsties, who did hardly more than look at her for a moment too long, and most commonly, shouting at one James Potter: the catalyst, and most likely initiator, of about 99% of her “moods”.
James never much seemed to mind Lily’s constant shouts of admonishment— in fact, he seemed to thrive on them, his face one of pure euphoria as Lily glared up at him, her lips forming numerous angry expletives, which James likely heard absolutely none of. He was a right tosser, and yet, Sirius had full faith in him. If anyone could win over Lily Evans, it would be James— Sirius was sure of it.
Unfortunately, Jamie did have some competition.
…
Well, actually, competition was being far too generous— that absolute leech Lily calls a friend is hardly anything to marvel at; in fact, sometimes the git could be almost marring to the eyes, making Sirius wish he had a spoon to gouge them out and put him out of his misery. Sirius is, of course, talking about Severus bloody Snape— otherwise known as Snivillus— the slimy, greasy, and hideously ugly prat. The big-nosed git could hardly see through the grease coating his nasty hair, but apparently, his sights were clear enough to be set firmly on Lily bloody Evans.
The two had been friends long before even their Hogwarts years, meeting Sirius and James in a compartment they occupied on their own— the two of them taking a dislike to the two pureblooded boys nearly as fast as James fell head over heels in love with Evans.
Lily Evans. It was always Lily Evans. Everything seemed to revolve around Lily Evans! It was all Sirius ever heard anymore! Lily this, Lily that, Lily “Did you see her make eye contact with me this morning?”, and Lily “I think she’s warming up to me! She didn’t even stomp on my toe when I wished her a good morning!”
Sirius was sick of it! If he heard one more bloody comment about the bitchy redhead, he swore, he was going to—
“Pads! Padfoot!” An out-of-breath James burst through the large, intricately carved, wooden doors of the library, shouting across the quiet room without a semblance of manners or situational awareness. Sirius couldn’t help but smirk as James was summoned by a harsh whisper, fighting back a snicker as Madame Pince— the stone-faced, drill sergeant of a librarian— gave the tosser a piece of her mind— her face turning a deep scarlet as she scolded him about maintaining order in her “domain.” Such an interaction was nothing new— in fact, it had become routine, so much so that hardly anyone even bothered to glance up from their studies at the wild-haired disruption, shamelessly attempting to charm Pince into letting him off without detention. Sirius doubted it was working, but best of luck to James nonetheless.
Sirius often found himself in the library when James was busy— having nothing better to do than sit in the quiet window alcove in the corner, cracking the pane open just a smidge to shoot various hexes at students waltzing by. It was his favourite little game. Hardly anything beat the simple rush of dopamine gained by shooting transfigured slugs made out of parchment into people’s mouths, or flipping unsuspecting victims upside down by their ankles, only to watch them drop painfully to the floor in a heap of robes as the spell was reversed. Rest assured, Sirius’s pranks never strayed from the Slytherins— such treatment was saved strictly for those sneaky, snakey gits in green.
Anyways, James knew well enough he could always find Sirius in the old library, causing the boy to sprint into the room at various times of the day— his voice at a volume too high, and his energy at a level too absurd. James was a highly energetic bloke, if that much wasn’t already plainly obvious.
Sirius’s snickering didn’t cease as James was reprimanded— his usual manipulative smile having no effect on the hardened librarian. Welp, at least he tried. Sirius sat up straighter on the stone bench as James was finally released, resisting the urge to full-on laugh in the git’s face as he resumed talking at nearly the exact same volume he’d been using at his arrival, causing a ripple of giggles to sound through the room, followed by a harsh shushing from Pince. James just rolled his eyes, a scowl plastered on his tanned face as he plopped down beside Sirius, running a hand through the bird’s nest on his head he generously called hair.
“Alright, mate?” Sirius asked with a smirk, his shapely, black brows quirked in question as he watched his bespectacled friend smash his face into the windowpane— his brown eyes searching the faces of the students passing by as his glasses pressed into his nose.
“What’d you do this time?” Sirius continued when the git didn’t answer, growing more impatient as James simply ignored him, his eyes still searching the crowd. “If you’re hiding from someone, then you’re doing a right bang-up job at it, sitting right at a window—“
“Where’s Lupin?” James suddenly asked, his head whipping around to face Sirius at such a speed, Sirius nearly flinched. Blinking slowly at the hyper boy, Sirius’s eyes narrowed, looking James up and down.
“Not a clue.” Sirius answered suspiciously, unsure of what James could possibly need from their quiet swot of a roommate, “Why the sudden interest?”
James glowered, letting out a huff of annoyance.
“Because,” he drawled, his eyes flicking back to the window, “I’ve just heard from Mary Macdonald that the git was chatting with Lily. Like, proper chatting. She said they’d been out on that one windowsill— y’know, the one facing the Whomping Willow?”
Sirius gasped in shock, the corners of his lips quirking slightly in genuine surprise. Oh, he knew that window. In fact, he practically owned that window. It had been dubbed, quite generously, as the “Wanking Window”, reserved for couples who intended to snog to their hearts content, with barely so much as a squeak of a rat for distraction. Hardly a soul had ever been caught there, so Sirius could only assume Mary had travelled to that part of the castle with a bloke of her own in tow, being stopped short by whatever scene she’d witnessed between Lupin and Evans.
Well, wasn’t this interesting? Sneaky little prat, that boy was, trying to make a move on James’s girl. Well, actually, it seems he did a bit more than “try.” Sirius had been looking for a bit more excitement this year— they were only a few weeks into the term, and O.W.L.s were already becoming a right bore.
For all Sirius talked about knowing people, and reading them on a level beyond the average eye, Remus Lupin was an enigma— an insignificant, and yet infuriating, bloke of pure mystery; unsolvable secrets simply dripping out of his every pore. Lupin was like a puzzle— a game without instructions, causing the player to simply take a whack at it, with no real semblance of a plan. Sirius had caught onto the surface-level things which make up Lupin, such as his clear swottishness, and obvious pushover nature. Lupin could be easily guised into compliance— his loyalty and sense of self handed over at the turn of a thumb, without any real struggle given in defence. Lupin had been easy to manipulate— a perfect pawn for his and James’s more reckless pranks, and less-than-ideal dirty work which went on in the background.
Really, maybe Lupin wouldn’t be as much of a pushover if the situation had been different— if he himself had been slightly more lucky— but unfortunately for the bloke, he was dealt a right shit hand in life from
the start. Even more unfortunately (for Lupin, that is), Sirius knew exactly how to exploit this. It all began with a few timely disappearances in first year— Lupin’s bed mysteriously left empty long after curfew, only to return the next morning, looking a right sight to behold.
The scratches, the scars, the monthly disappearances— really, it was a bloody miracle Sirius had been the only one bothering to observe the near-invisible boy, otherwise Dumbledore surely would’ve thrown his arse out on the streets long ago.
Thus forth, just a few months after meeting his timid roommate, Sirius had gained the greatest piece of blackmail in wizarding history:
Remus Lupin was a werewolf.
Really, it’d been written in the stars for Sirius when he discovered such a thing. How could the boy ever deny a word he said, when Sirius held the key to his deepest, and certainly darkest, secret? The answer to that particular question, was that he couldn’t. Lupin couldn’t say no. Ever. He was certainly in no place to ever do so, and in turn, never tried. Therefore, it was a right shock to hear he’d go and do something like this to James— and in somewhere so infamous, might he add.
Lupin was, in a lack for better terms, absolutely fucked. Sirius would make sure of it, if somehow James didn’t get to him first.
At Sirius’s shocked reaction, James nodded, his eyes brimming with anger. It was only fair James was pissed— he’d always had more of a soft spot for the scarred boy than Sirius ever did. In fact, if Sirius had any say in it, he’d completely ignore the boy for the rest of his years— all memories of him being forgotten in the deepest depths of his mind. But unfortunately, James seemed to genuinely like the swotty bloke, occasionally spending long hours laughing at his sarcastic quips in the common room as he revised James’s essays, leaving Sirius to sit on the large armchair opposite the two boys, praying on Lupin’s downfall as he glowered.
But now, the day had finally come. After years of staying carefully under the radar, Lupin had made a move— his metaphorical invisibility cloak slipping off his back, revealing his true nature. There were no excuses to be made for Lupin— no way to prove his innocence in such a situation. Lupin knew damn well Evans was James’s, nearly as well as Sirius did himself. There was no slinking out of this. Lupin was trapped.
“After all we’ve done for him!” James exclaimed loudly, still huffing as he spoke, oblivious to the stares of his classmates nearby, “He’s lucky we haven’t turned him over to the bloody ministry! Hell, he’s lucky we didn’t go and shout about his, y’know, furry little problem, from the bloody rooftops!”
James was doing exactly that just now, but oh well. Lupin’s problem, not his.
“We could’ve ruined his life— but what did we do instead? Took mercy on the bloke! Welcomed him into our group, allowed him to sit with us— hell, I even invited him to my house for the bloody holidays last year! He’s such a traitor!”
“Right you are, Prongs,” Sirius said with a barely concealed smirk, soon schooling his expression into one of amused indifference. “We can’t let the git get away with this, can we? What do you suppose we do?”
“I reckon we beat his bloody arse to a pulp!”
Sirius tsked at this, shaking his head at his impulsive friend.
“You’ve got to think bigger, Prongsie— a beating would be too merciful. This is a betrayal of the greatest degree! This is Evans we’re talking about! Your future wife! Think bigger!”
James looked up at the arch of the alcove thoughtfully, tapping on his chin as his eyes narrowed to mere, magnified slits. Sirius rolled his eyes, growing impatient.
“Don’t think about it now, you big lump,” Sirius shoved James by his shoulder, causing a shout of “Ay!” and a quick push in retaliation. Sirius snickered as his back hit against the stone of the windowsill, resulting in a similar chuckle to erupt from James, “We’ve got all the time in the world. It’d be better to make it really hurt for Lupin, yeah? Why resort to childish, schoolyard pranks, when we could do something bigger— something that would truly ruin the prat?”
James nodded slowly at that— an absolutely devious grin making its way over his face as he processed Sirius’s words. Despite what Sirius had said earlier about people’s eyes, he really could see it all in James’s at that moment. Not a single speck of amber floating in his dark irises showed a grain of remorse. James had lost it. He’d gone and lost his bloody mind, and it was all because of Lily Evans.
Lily. Bloody. Evans.
…
Well— technically, it was because of Lupin as well.
In case he hadn’t mentioned, Sirius felt it was important to reiterate:
Remus Lupin was— without a doubt— miserably, horrifically, and indescribably fucked.
This was gonna be fun.
~~~
James hardly ever held grudges. Some might disagree, bringing up Snivillus, or any other Slytherin git as proof, but that didn’t make it any more true. Those people (most specifically Snape) deserved every last bit of ridicule and hatred they received. James didn’t feel a speck bad for them.
But for everyone else, it was different— most especially when involving his friends. For all people said about James being a self-absorbed arsehole (mostly by Evans, but never mind that), he really did try to focus on others. He gave people second chances; the benefit of the doubt; an unbiased moment to explain themselves more thoroughly. Maybe that was why James’s reaction towards Macdonald’s latest piece of gossip had been quite a shock to a few people.
He only said he “usually” gave people a second chance. This was not one of those times.
It wasn’t that James didn’t do a bit of investigation— despite the many stereotypes one may assume of Gryffindors, he wasn’t that impulsive. James began studying Lupin far more closely than he’d ever bothered to in the past. He hadn’t even told Sirius about his sudden scrutiny of the boy (though it certainly pained him to do so), waiting to find more evidence to prove Macdonald’s very bold claim before he went off making wild accusations. It wasn’t that James didn’t believe Macdonald… it was just—
Okay, yeah— he didn’t believe her. Not one bit, if he’s honest. None of what she said made sense in James’s head.
First of all, Mary Macdonald was a right gossip. Like a bloodhound, that one— always sniffing out the latest story to share with the students of Hogwarts for their meagre entertainment. Sirius always joked she’d make a great journalist, and James couldn’t help but agree. The way that bird picked up on drama was incredible, and her ability to exaggerate stories rivalled even Rita Skeeter’s. For all that he knew of her, he found it very unlikely that anything she’d said had been true. Perhaps she’d only seen the two studying? Maybe they’d just been having a private— but not at all suggestive— chat at the Wanking Window?
Okay, yeah— it sounded bad. But again— James strongly believed in benefit of the doubt, and that day had been no different.
James began trailing Lupin at once. It wasn’t that Lupin was an unobservant boy— the odds had just been stacked against him. Even with his enhanced senses of smell, sight, and hearing (which were all bloody cool, James feels the need to add), there was hardly anything Lupin could do against an invisibility cloak and a silencing spell. Despite his many cautious glances behind his back, and the occasional time he’d stop and stare right where James was standing (equal parts terrifying and impressive, by the way), Lupin seemed to brush it all off. In fact, James knew Lupin had brushed it off— he heard the bloke murmuring it to himself, repeating words of “You’re going crazy. There’s no one there,” over and over— a constant mantra echoing through the halls in harmony with his quiet footsteps.
Maybe James should’ve thought all of that to be suspicious on its own. Why had Lupin been so scared of being followed? Well, it wasn’t like James would exactly take kind to being trailed himself, but he certainly wouldn’t resort to talking to himself like a lunatic and flinching at the slightest sounds. The pair of them walked, Lupin up ahead with James in tow, for what felt like hours— the tall boy wandering aimlessly, but with the pace of someone who had places to be. James many times found himself jogging a bit to keep up with the boy, huffing to himself as his gait seemed to pick up speed, leaving James to gape as Lupin caught sight of something. James hadn’t the time to see what Lupin had seen— he could only jog after him, praying that this endless chase would at least provide some sort of results.
But, rest assured— results did in fact come. They came very quickly, for that matter. So quickly James almost felt as though he was getting whiplash as he and Lupin spun around a corner, James nearly slamming into Lupin’s back as he suddenly came to a stop, being met with the smiling face (hold on, smiling?) of none other than Lily Evans.
Just to make matters even worse, Evans immediately greeted Lupin with a warm welcome, enveloping the awkward boy in a crushing embrace— her perfect, freckled arms thrown around Lupin’s skinny torso. James couldn’t help but gasp as he watched the scene unfold— Remus cautiously patting Lily’s back as the girl craned her head to look up at him, her beautiful, red hair flowing down her robes in shimmering locks as she whispered something James had been far too distracted to hear. It was no matter what she said— hadn’t anyone ever heard of that muggle saying?
“A picture is worth a thousand words.”
James scowled. Damn right it was. If only he had a bloody camera— he was sure Macdonald would have a field day with this. Hell, the whole school would have a field day! It was insane! James was feeling like throwing the cloak off right at that very moment— giving Lupin a piece of his fucking mind— but he didn’t. Once again, James refused to fall under Gryffindor stereotypes. James did have self-control, and he had every intention of maintaining it.
So, like the extremely level-headed and un-impulsive guy he was, James ran off to go
find Sirius. He didn’t care about the detention he’d surely be receiving from Pince; he didn’t care about the way Sirius rolled his eyes at James’s every word— all he cared about was making Lupin pay, and he’d do so. Whatever it took.
Sirius’s amusement didn’t cease as they left the library— receiving a very pointed glare from Pince as they walked through the doors. It also didn’t cease as James recounted the rest of the tale to Sirius— being sure to, in truth, vastly overexaggerate the hug shared between Evans and Lupin. James didn’t take any real offence to Sirius’s… well— unseriousness about the situation. James knew the bloke well enough to know that was just how he was. That grin constantly adorning his face wasn’t one of indifference or nonchalance. It was a rebellion. It was a way of showing he could— a small relief after living in a house where smiles were a dreadfully sparing thing.
For the first time in his life, Sirius could openly smile, whenever and wherever he pleased, and evidently, he made sure to make use of that luxury 24/7
James remembered when he’d first met Sirius— his haughty nature and open grimace as he scrutinised Evans and Snape from across the compartment was so disdainful, James could hardly stand it. It had been such a stark difference from the boy he’d been talking to just moments before— all smiles and jokes as he jested with James. But, the second he saw Evans, that smile dropped— his jovial mood instantly leaving, and his eyes narrowing with suspicion. It had, in truth, taken James quite some time to dissolve Sirius’s harmful prejudices towards muggles. In fact, he hadn’t even known the word “Mudblood” was a slur— he thought it simply a term used to describe those below him; those with a lower status than he. But now— five years, and many corrections later— Sirius was twice the boy he’d once been. While the superiority complex he certainly harboured hadn’t exactly left, the blood prejudice had, and James took that in stride.
Maybe that was why James didn’t much mind as Sirius knocked him with his shoulder, smirking as he told the boy over and over to be patient— that they’d think of something bigger. Something better. And for what it was worth, James believed him. If anyone could think up a perfect revenge for Lupin, it’d be Sirius. James was sure of it.
Still, it was awfully hard to be patient when he was forced to sit directly behind the traitorous prat as if nothing had happened— forced to stare at Lupin’s stupid curls as Binne blathered on about everything and nothing all at once, oblivious to the fact that not a single soul in that room was listening to him speak. James shot daggers at the back of Lupin’s head, praying to Merlin above that he’d somehow sear through the git’s head— singeing a hole straight through his thick, bloody skull.
It’d be like that Superman bloke he’d heard of. James was sure there was a spell to give someone laser eyes somewhere out there. Lupin probably knew it, if James was honest.
Bloody Lupin. Swotty, sarcastic, bird-stealing Lupin. James glowered just thinking about him. Rest assured, if all went wrong, he’d just bury the prat alive— six feet under the ground of Hogwarts’s magical soil— to be pissed on by the passing beasts occupying the Forbidden Forest. James really had begun to dig Lupin a grave— and not in a metaphorical way, either. Too pissed at the prat to eat, James trekked his way down to the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest in the harsh rain to dig Lupin a hole— water seeping through his robes and chilling his body, despite the many spells he’d put on to prevent it.
He’d tried to convince his friends to come along and help, but Peter refused to dig in the rain, and Sirius… well, Sirius just refused to dig— period. There are some things you just can’t change about a bloke, James supposes.
In the time he’d had between classes, James only managed to dig a grave about two feet deep, and in all honesty, that was being generous. He’d gotten his fair share of equal parts confused and suspicious glances as people passed by, all of them shocked into silence at the sight of Hogwarts’s golden boy outside in the rain, struggling with a bloody shovel. In James’s defence, though, no one ever mentions how hard grave digging really was. He’d only been at it for an hour, and James feels as though his back is about to snap straight in half! He bets Lupin knows a spell to soothe that— or maybe even a grave digging spell, for that matter.
…
James was going to murder Lupin.
Maybe their revenge could be stealing all of Lupin’s books— James was sure that would make him go mental, if not downright murderous. Or maybe, they could secretly switch all of his assignments with Peter’s right before he turned them in, leaving Lupin in panicked shock as he watched his grades drop, with no way to restore them to their previous state.
James continued plotting Lupin’s eventual demise as Sirius watched him from the corner of his steely, silver eyes— flicking his gaze back and forth between James and the back of Lupin’s head. James leaned farther into their bench with his head tipped back absently, his mind wandering as Binns yapped on about Merlin knows what. If only Sirius had just let James beat Lupin up. He felt like a good beatdown was the best course of action in this situation. Andrea Mindi, a muggleborn who’d joined his Muggle Studies class for an easy O, had told James all about muggle movies. Apparently, in those movies, the leading man always beats the shit out of the man who steals his bird. That means James should just beat him up, yeah?
Sirius must’ve somehow seen the violence on James’s face, because in that moment, the boy decided to give James a harsh kick to the shins, making him nearly yelp out in pain as he shot up straight in his seat. A few people looked over at the sudden movement, but most minded their business, all of them looking to their empty sheets of parchment meant for note-taking absently as they daydreamed. Sirius snickered as James scowled.
“Calm down, tosser.” Sirius whispered, no real malice in his tone, “There’s no need to
jump the git.”
“I’d say there’s plenty of need.” James grumbled.
“Oh yeah? And what good would that do you?”
“Plenty of good.”
“Hm. Right—“
“I swear it, Pads— if you don’t come up with a plan in less than a day, I’m cursing him.”
Sirius rolled his eyes at the dramatics, placing his head into his hand as he leaned against the desk.
“I’ve got it, Prongs— don’t you worry. Lupin’ll get what he deserves.”
“He better.” James snapped back, making Sirius snort.
“Yeah, yeah. How’s that grave coming?”
“Oh, come off it!” James said, a bit too loudly in all honesty, “Unless you want to
help, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Aww,” Sirius cooed with a smirk, “Is our dear Prongsie struggling with the shovel?”
“As if you could even carry a shovel, you fragile prat!”
Sirius scoffed, reeling back slightly.
“I am NOT fragile!”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that—“
“I’m not! I’m literally a beater! You’re the arsehole whose only job is to throw a bloody bouncy ball through a hoop—!”
“Don’t you dare—!”
“Ahem!” James and Sirius’s— admittedly, extremely loud— conversation was abruptly interrupted by a pointed clearing of the throat, causing Sirius to dramatically roll his eyes as he turned around in his seat towards the noise. James’s breath caught in his throat— as it always did— when he saw who the offender in question had been.
Lily Evans.
Evans was staring across the small room with narrowed eyes, one brow quirked, as if in question. Sirius just sneered back— his hands beginning to raise in a two-fingered salute before being swiftly struck down by James, shooting the boy a warning look. Sirius rolled his eyes, but made no further comment.
“Alright, Evans?” James called across the room, much to Evans’s surprise, if the widening of her eyes was any indication. A few giggles sounded, but James ignored them.
“No, I am not alright, Potter.” Lily spat back, his name sounding like a slur on her tongue, “Did you know some of us are trying to learn? I’m aware that may be a foreign concept to you, but I do hope you’ll have some courtesy.”
Sirius, the traitor he was, snickered at the quip, immediately drawing Evans’s attention.
“Oh, don’t think you’re any better, Black. When was the last time you picked up a quill?”
“I’m sure it was around the same time you last brushed your rat’s nest of hair. Do you need me to lend you a brush? I’ve got plenty of extras.”
Lily and a few others gasped at Sirius as James smacked the boy hard in the stomach, willing him to shut the hell up.
“Sirius Black!” Lily exclaimed, her mouth open and gaping, “Where are your manners?!”
“Same place as yours, evidently. Did you know some of us are actually trying to listen to Binns here? Maybe next time, keep the comments to yourself, and don’t shout across the classroom, yeah?”
This time, Marlene McKinnon— the girl sitting beside Lily— genuinely had to hold the fuming girl back, her face straining with effort as Lily tried lunging out of her seat towards Sirius.
“Oh, no need to cause a scene, Evans!” Sirius heckled, never one to know when to stop, “I’ve no plans to fight you!”
“You better watch your back, Black!”
Sirius gasped mockingly. “Oh dear— is that a threat? Must I report that a prefect tried threatening me in class to McGonagall?”
“I swear to God—!”
“No need to swear!” Sirius raised his arms with a smirk, “I’ll keep this little secret between us— but just this once, alright?” Sirius wagged a finger at Lily, which just seemed to rile her up more.
Many kids around the room were snickering at the display, eager for any show of entertainment possible during this miserable class. James couldn’t blame them— listening to Binns was like watching old Quidditch footage before the ministry approved faster brooms. It was a right bore. Unfortunately though, James didn’t exactly take too kindly to Sirius insulting Evans, causing him to give Sirius a hard shove for his stupidity. Sirius snickered as he wobbled tediously on the bench, having to quickly grasp the edge of the table to keep himself upright.
“Sorry, Prongs, but snogging is a two-way street.” Sirius whispered once he righted himself, leaning in close to James to avoid any eavesdropping, “It wasn’t like Lupin had his tongue shoved down the bloody wall. Evans betrayed you just as much as him, and I’m not letting her get away with it.”
James scoffed, but really couldn’t think of a compelling argument to prove Evans’s innocence. Sirius was— very unfortunately— completely right.
But that didn’t make it any less Lupin’s fault, too. That prat was still dead to him— figuratively, and hopefully very soon, literally.
Maybe James really could hold a grudge, because one thing had become blaringly obvious in the past couple of hours.
Lupin was a traitor, and for that, James would never forgive him.
~~~
Peter sometimes felt as though he was watching his life through a screen— everyone else on one side, while he sat secluded and alone on the other, wondering why anything really mattered. James and Sirius were always in their own little world— their friendship an impenetrable bubble, only occasionally popped for very certain people. Remus was bubbled similarly, but in his own head— so many thoughts swirling around, he hardly had any time to bother with others. The rest of the Hogwarts student body were so close, but somehow still just out of Peter’s reach, forcing him to stretch himself thinner and thinner until he felt like merely a fabrication of his former self— a shadow, constantly lurking behind the forms of others.
Everything in Peter’s life felt like a fabrication: his friends, his personality, and even the words which left his mouth as he attempted to appease the ones he should trust the most. None of it was him anymore. He wasn’t even sure who he was. Maybe that was why he was so easy to manipulate. It was hard to have morals and standards when you yourself were hardly even a person.
Maybe, just maybe, that was why Peter didn’t put up a second of fight when Dorcas Meadows had thrown a camera into his outstretched palm— explaining each of the buttons to him with barely concealed annoyance, as she sent him off on his way, new mission undertow.
Peter was to trail Remus and Lily.
It wasn’t like trailing people was anything new for him— in fact, he did it daily, walking behind his so-called friends as they joked and laughed amongst themselves, wondering why he even bothered.
For what it was worth, James certainly seemed to like Peter— at least most of the time, he reckons. James had been the first to show Peter any kindness on their first day in the dorms, offering Peter a smile and an outstretched hand— his tone showing no signs of secret animosity. James often made sure to include Peter in their schemes— shoving Sirius when he openly complained about Peter’s presence, and lightly cooing words of reassurance in Peter’s ear as they walked, a friendly arm thrown over his shoulders as Sirius glowered at the sight. James was a kind person, through and through. Sure, he had his own issues, but they were nothing dire. He certainly wasn’t as reserved and closed off as Remus, and had nowhere near as awful a temper as Sirius. James was Peter’s rock— his friendliness and easy smiles the rope which tethered them together, making Peter too weary and confused to leave.
Sirius, on the other hand, was mean. Just plain mean. It was honestly baffling to Peter how someone so genuinely bad could be best friends with someone like James. It wasn’t fair.
Life just wasn’t fair.
Maybe that was why Peter wanted to pass this unfairness onto Remus— knowing damn well the poor boy had done nothing the rumours claimed, but deciding to exploit it nonetheless.
Maybe that was why he took those pictures of Remus as he and Lily laughed beside the staircase leading to the girls dorms, Lupin landing with a huff on the floor as the stairs transfigured into a slide.
Maybe, just maybe, that was why he took that final picture of the two as they finally managed to get Remus up the stairs— both sporting matching grins as Lily led Remus into the room.
That had been the reason he’d handed the camera with all of the pictures back over to Dorcas, knowing damn well no good would come out of it.
Peter was a shell of a person, and unfortunately, Remus would pay the price.
And the worst part? Peter wasn’t even really sorry.
Not one bit.
~~~
For what it was worth, Remus Lupin was NOT in love with Lily Evans— the opposite being just as true as well. Did that picture he’d seen on Dorcas Meadows’s gossip rag make it look that way? Very unfortunately, yes— yes it did.
As the post owls dropped off the school newspaper on both Sirius and Peter’s plates that morning, Remus remembered finding himself rather uninterested. It wasn’t that the school paper wasn’t… cool— Remus just felt that it paled in comparison to the sheer amount of magic filling the halls. It felt rather muggle, if he was honest. How could anyone bother with some stupid paper when the bloody ceiling could show the weather outside? When food could magically appear on one’s plate, and disappear just as suddenly? How could anyone give a damn about Dorcas’s gossip column, titled “Swot X Swot?” when there were sentient paintings on the walls?! How could anyone care about the picture of Remus and Lily walking into her dorm, when—
…
Oh.
That was the moment Remus realised that maybe he didn’t care— more than he ever thought he would, if he’s honest. It was the moment where— in a temporary lapse of judgement— Remus decided to snatch the paper from Peter’s plate, suddenly gaining the unwanted attention of James and Sirius— both shooting Remus looks which, to him, felt almost predatory; lions digging their teeth into a forgotten piece of meat, waiting impatiently for more to come. Remus felt himself sink under their scrutiny— their eyes, while starkly different in colour, looking nearly identical as they glared. Well, actually they didn’t glare. In fact, their faces were oddly calm— both held in matching masks of very forced nonchalance. Of indifference.
That, to Remus, was what truly terrified him. Sirius and James were never indifferent.
The two boys who hex and curse people, simply for being in another house; the boys who trip people in the hallways with jinxes, and set off dungbombs in the classrooms of teachers they didn’t particularly like; the boys who walk all over Peter, despite his daily displays of unyielding loyalty, and manipulate anyone who dares to have differing opinions— yes, those boys— were acting indifferent. Those awful, terrifying boys, were suddenly pretending to be calm. Very calm. It didn’t take a genius to determine something was wrong. At the very least, Remus should expect some type of confirmation— something from James to determine whether or not what he was seeing was actually true. Instead, the two boys just smiled— their grins creeping up their faces in perfect unison, causing an involuntary shiver to run down his spine.
“James, I— I swear,” Remus embarrassingly stuttered out, “It’s not what it looks like. We were just—“
Remus was cut off by booming laughter, starting slightly as he saw James and Sirius wheezing across from him. Remus looked over to Peter in confusion, but the boy refused to meet his eyes.
“Oh, Lupin,” Sirius finally caught his breath, shaking his head, “You’re hilarious— did you know that?”
Remus’s mouth snapped shut, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Uh, no—?”
“Isn’t he hilarious, Prongs?”
“Oh, of course. A right laugh, this lad.”
“Just full of jokes.”
“So so many jokes.”
What the actual shite was going on? Remus’s head wobbled back and forth between the boys, feeling awfully like he was missing out on some huge inside joke. Peter still wouldn’t look at him.
“Soo, you don’t think—?”
“Of course we don’t think you’ve stolen Lily!” James chuckled as he spoke, though Remus couldn’t help but feel it sounded rather fake. “Don’t be daft— you could never!”
…
Oh!
“Yeah,” Sirius grimaced as he looked Remus up and down, “No offence, mate, but you’re not exactly easy on the eyes.”
Well, damn!
“Yeah, mate— she’s way out of your league.”
“Playing a whole ‘nother game, I reckon.”
“Right you are, Pads. Right you are—“
“Well, all right then,” Remus interrupted them, not willing to take another hit to his already shattered ego. “Glad we’ve cleared that up.”
“Oh, Lupin,” Sirius smirked as he tsked, snapping the paper back up straight to scan the page, “You should see what they’ve written about you. Do you want to see?”
“No thanks— I think I’m good—“
“‘Remus John Lupin’— wow, they’ve even gotten your middle name!” James snorted at Sirius’s words, “‘Otherwise known as the quietest of the Marauders, has certainly made some waves in the calm seas of the Hogwarts ecosystem this week.’”
Remus nearly rolled her eyes at that. Trust Dorcas to attempt to sound poetic in a bloody gossip column.
“‘According to a firsthand account, received from Ms. Mary Macdonald, she’d been the first to bear witness to Remus and Lily’s secret trysts.’ Oooh, look— there’s an excerpt! Should we hear what Mary had to say?”
This time, Remus really did roll his eyes.
“Would you listen if I said no?”
Sirius snorted, but shook his head. “‘As I was walking to charms—‘“
“Yeah, walking to charms my arse AHH—“ James’s mumbled words were cut off by a sharp kick from Sirius, leaving the boy to grovel as Sirius cleared his throat and resumed his reading.
“‘— I saw Lupin and Lily in the Wanking Window! They were both tits-out naked, clambering all over one another! It was rather scarring, I must admit—‘“
“‘Tits-out naked?’” Remus repeated with a scoff, drawing Sirius’s impossibly silver eyes up to Remus’s own.
“Something the matter?”
“Yes, something is the matter. It’s all bloody lies— the whole damned thing!“
“Don’t worry, Lupin.” James smiled as Sirius thankfully folded up the paper, placing it very obviously into his robe pockets. “I’m sure no one would believe any of it. It’s just a paper, yeah? Those are always full of straight shite. Hardly anyone even reads them anymore.”
“Yeah…” Remus mumbled distractedly at the boys words, though he was rather unconvinced. James could say whatever he liked, but the amount of eyes Remus felt boring into his skull was telling a different story. Remus absolutely hated being the centre of attention, and fortunately for him, sitting next to the likes of James and Sirius essentially meant you were irrelevant. Why would anyone ever bother to look at you, when those two were just a few feet away? But in that moment, all eyes were on Remus.
Walking through the halls, ignoring the giggles sounding through the common room, and pretending he didn’t notice the way James and Sirius immediately went silent as he entered the dorm, made one thing very clear to Remus.
Becoming friends with Lily Evans had been a massive mistake.