I'm a night owl.
I quickly learn stuffing little balls of toilet tissue into my ears before I fall asleep at night dampens the noise of James’ crowing alarm clock enough for me to sleep through. I have to be careful to remember to take the tissue out in the morning before anyone sees it. I don’t know how Sirius and Remus are dealing with the disturbance.
Remus seems to have gotten over whatever was ailing him the first week of school. He is my partner in avoiding crime as well as Potions now. The lessons when I worked with Sirius and James were even worse than the first lesson. Sirius yelled at me while James wouldn’t let me do anything.
James and Sirius have learned more magic, all of it used to cause trouble. I spend a week trying to come to terms with this development on my own until I realize Remus is dealing with the same thing.
“They’re just mean,” Remus says to me in privacy.
“Yeah?” I say. I don’t know why it comes out sounding like a question.
James and Sirius being mean doesn’t seem to impact Remus’ willingness to be friends with them. He just sneaks away when they start plotting and can disappear faster than a mouse when one of them whips out their wand in a corridor. My indecision, and far slower reflexes, keep me from extricating myself as seamlessly. I stand in the background and make myself as small and silent as possible.
I don’t know if I even mind. Compared to some of the stuff I see in the corridors, trip jinxes are the least of anyone’s concern. They don’t have specific targets either. I know they prefer to get Slytherins but anyone in any house third year and below is fair game as far as they are concerned. The only people they don’t target are me and Remus. Oh, and Lily.
I’ve learned to avoid joining ambiguous outings with them and Remus stays back with me. Franny always comes over to talk to me if James and Sirius aren’t around. If Remus is with me, she’ll bring a friend too. This is how I learned Greycen doesn’t think of themselves as a boy or a girl.
“Then what am I supposed to call you?” I ask.
“Grey, or use they or them,” Grey says.
It feels weird. My face must betray my discomfort.
“Look, it’s not so bad. Try it . . . Where’s Grey?”
I think really hard before I answer. “They’re out by the lake.”
“Now tell someone you saw me out by the lake and what I was doing.”
“I saw Grey out by the lake . . . Sh . . . I mean they were skimming stones.”
Grey smiles and so does Franny.
“You get used to it real quick when you practice,” Franny says.
It turns out Grey is hilarious. They never say anything in lessons unless a Professor calls on them directly. I can’t fault them, as I’m the same way. They have muggles in their extended family and have all sorts of stories to share which aren’t confined to the magical world.
Grey’s best story is about an aunt whose hair caught fire when she reached across a table for more roasted veg at a dinner party.
“Mum put her out fast enough,” Grey says. “And Aunt Maple is still filling her hair with flammables. I told Franny she’d better watch out around open flames, all that hair spray.”
Grey winks at Franny who smiles and shakes her head. “I like my hair like this. Mum taught me to do it completely without magic.”
Grey looks at me. “What do you think, Peter?”
“I like it more flat,” I say without considering anything I might say may come off as unsolicited criticism. “I like it plaited.”
“Really?” Franny says, bringing a hand to pat her voluminous brown hair. When she touches it it barely moves.
“See, Peter’s with me. Besides, it will save you an hour every morning.”
“You spend an HOUR fixing your hair!” I say loudly.
Franny nods. “I get up at six.”
And here I thought Franny was fairly normal.
“I do too,” Remus says.
“What!” I shriek. I’d forgotten he was even sitting with us. “You style your hair for an hour?”
“Obviously not, I get up to shower.” Remus shrugs. “Then I read.”
“Some people are early birds,” Grey says, nodding. “I’m a night owl.”
The next day Franny has her hair in double plaits again.
Lessons are still hard. My favorite subjects are Astronomy and Herbology because they don’t require us to do magic. History of Magic is a nice time to eat a few sweets and stare out the window. I share sweets with anyone who asks and people are always willing to reciprocate. Except Sirius, he gets weird when I ask him to share.
Lily decides to start some kind of initiative to get the dress code changed. She thinks girls should be able to wear slacks. I completely agree and sign her parchment right away. She also thinks boys should be able to wear skirts. I wonder if I was too hasty when I signed her parchment.
“What’s wrong with boys wearing skirts?” Grey says when I broach this topic.
I’m sitting with Grey, Franny, and Mary in study period. Half of study period is a chance to socialize with Prefect supervision. Lily is working in a corner of the room with Alice. Sirius and Remus look to actually be doing homework together. James is talking to Frank about quidditch.
“I dunno,” I say. “I don’t want to wear a skirt.”
“But just because you don’t want to doesn’t mean every boy doesn’t want to,” Mary says. “I don’t feel the need to wear trousers but the option might be convenient.”
“Might be convenient?” Grey says in indignation. “Skirts are hands down the worst invention in the history of the world.”
“What’s so wrong with skirts?” Franny asks.
“It’s forced conformity to feminine social norms and beauty standards. It drives me mental. Lily gets it.”
Franny and my eyes flick toward each other and we both quickly look away.
“The ability to choose is meaningful,” Mary says with a nod. “I’m behind Lily one hundred percent.”
“I am too,” Franny says quickly. “I just didn’t realize skirts could be so contentious.”
“That’s because you take things for granted,” Mary says.
Franny barely reacts. This feels like an argument they’ve had before.
“Do you want to do our nails tonight?” Franny asks Mary.
“Oh yeah!” Mary examines her nails which are currently magenta. “Maybe midnight blue . . .”
I’m glad I have people I can talk to about confusing things who don’t make me feel stupid.