Into the darkness (1st year)
February 4th, 1972
Unlike the rest of their classmates who got to enjoy their afternoon break, the boys walked through the crowded corridors, heading to Hagrid’s hut for their first day of detention.
“I can’t believe we survived Transfiguration,” said James. “McGonagall has it out for us, I swear. I could feel her glare piercing me for the entire class.”
Sirius snorted. “It’ll pass.” He flicked a stray strand of his black hair from his face. “Minnie can’t stay mad at us forever.”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll be giving her new reasons to resurface her anger in the future,” Remus said.
“I don’t like it when people are cross with me,” Peter mumbled.
“Don’t worry,” said Sirius. “She’s not angry with you. Well, not specifically.”
They turned a corner and the tension in the air shifted. Severus Snape was leaning against the wall flanked by his loyal lackeys, Benedict Mulciber and Ixion Avery. Severus spotted them first, approaching them with a smug expression.
“Look who it is,” he said. “How lovely to see you all so animated.”
“Well, I would say it was a pleasure to see you as well, but then I would be lying,” James said flatly.
Severus ignored him. “I’ve heard you caused quite the trouble for the Head of your House. Only three weeks of detention? For this stink in the whole castle?” He twirled his finger in the air. “McGonagall’s not as sensible as she tries to appear.”
“The stink? Oh, right,” said Sirius, bringing his finger near his temple. “And I thought you forgot to take a shower.”
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “You’ll never win the House Cup at this rate. And your housemates will finally realise what a waste of space you are.”
“’C’mon Snivellus, no need to pout,” James said. “You should take that tone down a notch. You sound like a ferret with a sore throat.”
Sirius laughed. “Snivellus? That’s brilliant! I can already picture it printed on our next Quidditch posters.”
“Shut up,” Snape hissed at both of them. “You think you’re somebodies, but everyone knows you’re just spoiled brats with broomsticks.”
“A very expensive broomstick indeed,” Sirius said. “And you’re just a prat who clearly can’t even afford proper hair products.”
Severus’ lips curled to a cruel smirk. “How were your holidays, Black?”
“How ‘bout I show you?” Sirius growled and stepped forward.
James extended his arm to restrain him. “Snape, I know you long for social interaction after spending all day with the thickest Slytherins in the castle, but we’ve got things to do.”
Avery and Mulciber exchanged glances, their expressions one of confusion and then irritation as they realised James was referring to them.
“You lot should learn your place,” Mulciber said, flexing his broad shoulders. “Or maybe we should teach you.”
“What’s the plan? A tea party? Or is Snape going to whine till our ears bleed?” Sirius said. “Wouldn’t want to miss that.”
“Maybe we should just walk away,” said Remus quietly.
“Yeah, you’d better listen to your pathetic tosser,” Avery snickered.
Sirius’ face flashed red with anger. “You bloody—”
“What’s wrong?” Mulciber said, tilting his head mockingly. “We offended your boyfriend? You little pansies are adorable.”
Sirius was about to jump at him but Peter grabbed him from behind.
“Don’t worry, Mulciber,” James said. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to spend your life with—hopefully someone blind.”
“You think you’re clever, Potter. But one day, you won’t have your little pack of mutts to protect you.”
“Is that what you call us now? I’m flattered,” Sirius said. “But really, I’d prefer a more regal title.” He raised his chin arrogantly. “My name is more important than yours, after all.”
“Your family’s name,” Severus corrected. “And I believe you won’t be a part of it for long. So when that day comes, you’ll pay for this.”
“We should just settle this right now, then,” said Sirius, cracking his knuckles.
“Uh, guys,” Peter muttered.
“What do you say?” Sirius said. “A little duel? I’ll even give you a head start.”
“Dueling’s not allowed in the corridors, Black,” Severus said coolly, but he wasn’t intimidated at all; he had started his first year at Hogwarts knowing more curses and hexes than most seventh-years could ever know.
Remus touched his arm lightly. “Sirius, really, just let it go—”
“Enough of this,” Mulciber snapped, advancing Remus.
“Touch him and I’ll—” Sirius snarled and approached Remus protectively, standing face to face with Mulciber.
Mulciber paused. “Watch yourself, Black. You really don’t want to pick a fight you can’t finish.”
“What’s wrong dickhead? Afraid you’ll get your hands dirty?”
“Not afraid at all. But I’d rather not have filth on my hands,” Mulciber said, motioning with his head at Remus; a deliberate insult about Remus’ Muggle mother.
Many things happened at once—Sirius fiercely lunged at Mulciber despite being smaller than him. Avery moved quickly to attack James, but James kicked him on his knee, sending him to the floor. Peter squeaked. The atmosphere exploded in chaos as fists flew and shouts echoed in the corridor. Sirius tackled Mulciber, sending both of them sprawling to the floor. Mulciber pinned him down and started punching him.
“Pete, hold my wand,” Remus said quickly, practically tossing his wand to Peter, whose eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Remus raised his sleeves and rushed to Sirius and Mulciber, grabbing the latter’s arm and twisting it painfully behind his back. Mulciber groaned, faltering for a few seconds and Sirius’ knee collided with his stomach.
“Watch your face!” Peter yelled at James as Avery was about to strike him with his elbow.
James avoided Avery’s hit and struck him in his sides. “Thanks, Pete!”
Avery hunched over, his face contorted with pain and attempted to slip away but James grabbed the back of his robes.
“Not so fast,” he said.
“Let go of me!” Avery hissed, struggling against James’ grip.
Just then, a hex landed on James’ back and he was forcefully knocked a few meters ahead. Snape was standing with his wand raised at him, his expression unreadable.
James quickly stood up, his eyes blazing with rage. “You draw a wand in a fistfight? How very noble of you, you coward!”
“Enough,” said Snape. “Ixion, Benedict move. Let’s go.”
The other two Slytherins glanced at each other, panting heavily and glaring furiously at the Gryffindors. Mulciber wiped off some blood from his lips that had split open after Remus had punched him. “But—”
“I said now,” Snape repeated firmly.
Sirius, still on the floor, started laughing hysterically. “That’s right! You talk tough but run away when things get real!”
“This isn’t over,” said Snape and they all disappeared around the corner.
Remus exhaled a deep breath and extended his hand to Sirius.
“Nice punch, Lupin. Not bad at all,” Sirius said, sounding a little breathless.
“Shut up,” Remus replied. He then approached Peter who appeared visibly shaken as he passed Remus his wand. “Thanks again, Pete,” Remus said, his voice shaky from the adrenaline rush.
“Anytime,” Peter mumbled.
James let out a small laugh. “That went well.”
“Excellent even,” Sirius said. “I really needed that.”
“Stop it,” Remus snapped. “We should get going. We’ll be late for detention.”
James and Sirius exchanged amused glances but didn’t protest. They all headed for Hagrid’s.
* * * * *
Detention with Hagrid wasn’t supposed to be this bad. At least, that’s what Sirius kept telling himself as he trudged through the bushes of the Forbidden Forest, smacking away low-hanging branches with a frown. He had imagined a cosy evening in Hagrid’s hut, perhaps with a hot mug of tea and the occasional story about some bizarre creature—the giant’s eyes lit up with excitement whenever he spoke of magical creatures, his deep voice filled with wonder as he described their traits and abilities, often to the bewilderment and concern of his friends.
But instead, here Sirius was, mud and snow caked up to his knees, and something suspiciously slimy had just landed on his shoulder.
“Oh, brilliant,” he muttered, flicking it off with an exaggerated shiver. “This is what I get for being entertaining. One little prank, and we’re back to wading through muck.”
James grinned though he was no less filthy. His glasses were foggy and his dark brown hair was sticking up more wildly than usual.
“Well, I don’t mind the muck,” he said, lifting a boot and watching as it squelched back down into the mud. “It’s the ‘little prank’ part I take issue with. Those dungbombs were definitely on the larger side.”
“Size matters,” said Sirius. “Especially when pranking Filch.”
Behind them, Peter was panting and puffing, his shorter legs having a harder time keeping up with the group. His face was flushed from the effort and he kept shooting nervous glances into the darkness stretching between the trees. “Are you sure there aren’t any werewolves here?”
Sirius snorted. “Don’t be a moron.”
“Relax, Pete,” said Remus, giving Sirius a pointed look. “It isn’t the full moon yet. Besides,” he added, raising an eyebrow at Sirius, “we’ve got a big, brave Gryffindor to protect us. Don’t we, Starboy?”
“Starboy, huh? I like the sound of it,” Sirius said ignoring Remus’ mocking tone. He stopped in his tracks, turned around and placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “Pete, I want you to know that if any werewolves jump on us, I’ll be the first to react. Even if it means pushing you in front of them while I run the hell away.”
James laughed loudly and Remus rolled his eyes with a small grin.
“Cheers,” Peter muttered.
“Oi!” Hagrid’s rough voice broke through the forest making the boys jump. He was several paces ahead, with a lantern that swung widely as he marched forward. “Keep up, yeh lot! We’re nearly there!”
The boys started pacing again with resigned sighs.
“And where exactly is ‘there’, Hagrid?” Sirius asked, finally catching up to Hagrid. “We’ve been walking for ages.”
“Should’ve listened ter me when I said ter bring proper boots,” Hagrid grunted, ignoring Sirius’ question. He effortlessly pushed aside a particularly thick tangle of brambles and kept walking. “And ‘sides, it’s not like yeh’ve been sent out ‘ere fer no reason. Got a bit of important business ter handle.”
The boys exchanged confused glances. Important business? They had assumed this detention would be some grunt work like cleaning cauldrons or collecting flobberworm mucus—a slimy green substance of large, thick worms.
James nudged Sirius. “Think he’s hiding a treasure out here?”
“Or hiding our bodies after the dungbomb fiasco,” Sirius said.
“Or maybe,” said Remus, “he doesn’t want us to know what he’s really doing ’cause it’s none of our business.”
Peter’s gaze darted anxiously between the thick trees. Yellow eyes were gleaming through the shadows. An owl swooped down from the twisted branches above, startling him so badly that he jumped back with a loud yelp. “I don’t care what he’s doing,” he said, quickly running to the others. “I just want to get out of here.”
“Will yeh stop yammerin’ back there?” Hagrid called over his shoulder. “And stay close! We’re meetin’ someone.”
“Someone?” Sirius repeated. “You mean, like, an actual person?”
“Aye,” said Hagrid. “We’re meetin’ the chief of the centaurs. Clever creatures though a bit guarded. Need ter have a word with ‘im about some trouble in the forest.”
Their eyes widened. Centaurs were notoriously reclusive and didn’t much care for humans. If Hagrid was meeting their chief, it must have been something serious.
“I don’t like trouble. Had enough already,” Peter whimpered.
“Hagrid, what kind of trouble?” James asked.
“That’s none o’yer business, James,” said Hagrid. “All yeh need ter know is yeh’re here ter learn a bit o’ respect fer the creatures in this forest.”
Sirius grinned. “Learn respect? Oh, Hagrid, you’ve got the wrong idea. We’re perfect gentlemen.”
“Perfect somethin’,” Hagrid muttered under his breath, but he was smiling.
After another ten minutes of trekking through thick underbrush, they arrived at a small, moonlit clearing. It was eerily quiet here, with no sound of birds or rusting leaves. Just a strange, still tension that made the hair on the back of their necks stand up.
Hagrid raised his lantern. “Stay put,” he said. “And don’t say a word unless I tell yeh ter.”
Peter gulped. “I really don’t like this…”
The trees seemed to sway even without a breeze. Shadows loomed like silent watchers. Peter could feel his heart throbbing through his chest. He was afraid of many things: spiders, thunders, the dark, his mother when he’d forget to do the laundry. But waiting here in silence until the centaurs decided to show up was something he desperately wished he could escape. What if they were aggressive? What if they would decide to attack them? What if—
“Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds, why do you trespass in our territory?”
Four centaurs stepped into the clearing. They carried quivers, their bows and arrows pointed at them. Their leader, a centaur with a silver, flowing mane stood at the forefront. The moonlight gleamed off his muscular body and illuminated his piercing amber eyes, similar to Remus’.
“Evening, Pholus,” Hagrid greeted him, his tone respectful but firm. “Sorry ter disturb yeh, but I needed ter speak with yeh ‘bout the recent… events in the forest. Things have been stirrin’ lately and we’re concerned up at the castle.” He held the centaur’s gaze. “Albus sent me.”
Pholus’ eyes flickered briefly to the boys and rested on Remus, studying him silently before returning to Hagrid. He gestured to his fellow centaurs to lower their bows. “You bring children into our domain? Has your Headmaster got no sense?”
“Detention,” Hagrid explained quickly, glancing back at the boys. “But don’t mind ‘em. Tell me. What’s going on?”
Pholus moved forward, his hoofs the only sound that disrupted the silence. “There have been signs, Hagrid. Dark omens.” His voice dropped to a raspy whisper. “Something evil moves in the world of men. Something that threatens the balance of our forest. There have been disappearances among our kind.”
“Death Eaters?” Hagrid asked, his own voice dropping even lower.
“We cannot say,” Pholus said, shaking his head. “But our scouts have sensed a presence. We do not welcome it.”
“Death Eaters near Hogwarts? What do they want?” Sirius asked before he could stop himself.
Pholus’ eyes snapped at him. “These matters are not for the ears of children,” he said sharply. He watched Sirius with increasing distrust. “You have the ancient blood of Blacks in you, boy.”
“Sorry, sir,” Remus interfered quickly on Sirius’ behalf and lowered his head in respect. Pholus fixed his eyes on him. Remus didn’t meet his gaze, keeping his head down, but the centaur’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer.
“Enough talk,” said Pholus. “We will keep our watch. But we expect the same from you and the castle. Should anything threaten our forest, we will act.”
Hagrid nodded. “Aye, Pholus. Dumbledore wanted me ter check in, and I’ll let ‘im know what yeh said.”
The centaur gave a curt nod. Hagrid and the others were about to leave when Pholus’ voice echoed. “I have seen you among the stars, child of the moon,” he said. “A shadow clings to you, a darkness that whispers in your wake.”
Remus sucked in a deep breath but didn’t turn around to face the centaur. Pholus disappeared back into the shadows of the trees, followed by the other centaurs. The clearing seemed to exhale a breath it had been holding, and the tension in the air slowly began to lift.
“Blimey,” Peter whispered. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Sirius muttered. “But it didn’t sound good.”
“Right,” said James. “Bad omens? Darkness? And what was he on about in the end?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Remus said quickly. “Didn’t you hear what he said? Centaurs have been missing. Hagrid mentioned something about Death Eaters. What are they?”
“Nothin’,” said Hagrid. There was a serious look on his face. “Now, I know yeh’re all curious, but yeh better keep yer noses out of this. And if yeh tell anyone what yeh heard, I’ll have yeh scrubbing cauldrons ‘til yeh’re older than Dumbledore. Understood?”
“At this rate, I doubt we’ll even make it past thirty,” said Sirius with a lazy shrug.
Hagrid sighed. “Professor McGonagall said I’d handle yer detention, but I had ter meet Pholus tonight. Yeh weren’t supposed ter hear all tha’. Best forget it, all right?”
The boys stared at each other but said nothing.
The chilly air nipped at their cheeks as they finally reached Hagrid’s hut. Smoke rose from the chimney and the boys eagerly approached, their teeth clattering from the cold after hours of walking through the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid pushed open the door, ushering the boys inside.
“Come on, in ye go,” he grumbled, stomping snow off his boots.
They crowded into the hut, grateful for the sudden warmth from the fire that crackled in the hearth. Hagrid busied himself with the kettle, setting it over the flames. The boys crammed around the small wooden table and Hagrid started pouring steaming tea into chipped mugs. Remus was the first to break the silence. He clutched his mug firmly, his fingers picking at the flesh around his nails.
“Hagrid, you can’t just pretend we didn’t hear your conversation with Pholus,” he said. “Centaurs have been missing. What is happening?”
Hagrid stiffened and set the kettle down with a clumsy clang. “’Course I can. S’all Ministry business. I can’t just tell yeh.”
“Death Eaters you said,” James insisted. “They’re Voldemort’s followers, right?”
Hagrid winced at the name. He glanced warily at the door as if expecting trouble to burst in at any moment. “We don’t say that name, James,” he warned, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Bad things happen when yeh call ‘im.”
“You-Know-Who, then. He’s their leader, isn’t he?”
“What are you talking about?” Remus interrupted. “Who is Voldemort—”
Hagrid jumped, his large knee almost knocking over the small table with the kettle and mugs. “We don’t say his name!”
“—and who are they, really? The Death Eaters?”
“Doesn’t your father work at the Ministry?” Sirius asked, though there was no sarcasm in his tone.
“He does,” Remus replied. “But he doesn’t exactly discuss business with us.”
Peter’s round face was scrunched in fear. “My parents talk about him sometimes…You-Know-Who… They said he’s dangerous, but they don’t say much else.”
“And that’s very clever of yer parents,” said Hagrid. “It’s bad enough yeh even know about it.”
Remus watched them all, his brow furrowed. He didn’t like to stay in the dark. Pholus had addressed him, saying there was something dark around him and he needed answers. “Pholus spoke to one of us before he left,” he said. “Whoever he meant might be in danger. Hagrid, we won’t say anything we promise just please, tell us what you know.”
Hagrid sighed heavily and scratched his beard as he tried to find the right words. “Look, there’s some wizards…bad ones. Rotten seeds, I call ‘em. They believe in keeping magic pure.” He looked over at Sirius. “No offence to yeh family, Sirius.”
Sirius gave him a lazy shrug. “Please, be my guest. Insult them all you like.”
“Yeah, right, so… they support blood supremacy an’ all tha’. They follow You-Know-Who. He tries to gain supporters—he’s got ‘em convinced they’re better’n everyone else, thinkin’ Muggles an’ Muggle-borns don’t belong in the wizardin’ world ’cause they see ‘em as inferior.”
Sirius’ expression darkened. He had known this rhetoric all his life. “My mother talks about him,” he said. “The heir that was promised, that’s what she called him. My family—”
“Your family’s full of nutters, Sirius, we all know that,” James said with a grin.
Remus frowned. “Whose heir?”
“Salazar Slytherin’s,” said Sirius.
“Well, that can’t be good,” Peter muttered, taking a swing from his tea and making a face. He hated citrus.
“Wait—Blacks are Slytherin’s descendants,” said James, facing Sirius. “Isn’t the heir supposed to be from your family?”
“I—”
Remus waved his hands to silence them. “All of you, focus for a moment, please. What do you mean by ‘heir of Slytherin’? And why do you all sound so worried?”
Sirius’ expression remained grim. “There is a legend. A wizard will be born from Salazar’s bloodline. The heir is supposed to finish Slytherin’s work for him.”
“And that is?” Remus asked.
“Cleanse the wizarding world of Muggle-borns.”
The hut fell silent, save from the crackling of the fire. The boys exchanged wary glances.
“And what have centaurs got to do with any of this? Why are Death Eaters attacking them?” James asked.
Hagrid hesitated, visibly torn. “Centaurs, they… they keep to themselves, mostly. They got ways of knowin’ things… signs in the stars, an’ such. They got the sight, the ability of foretellin’, though they like bein’ cryptic. Dark times are comin’, they say.” He paused, realising he was treading dangerously close to saying too much. “They’re not takin’ sides, an’ that makes ‘em a target. Some of ‘em have gone missin’. Tha’s all I can say.”
“What about what Pholus said?” Peter pressed hesitantly.
“Yeah, I was going to ask that,” said James. “Who was he talking to?”
Hagrid shook his head. “I don’t know. Would pay no mind ter that. Probably Pholus’ nonsense.”
Sirius fixed his eyes on Remus, watching him silently.
“Doesn’t sound random to me,” James insisted, turning to Remus. “He was watching you. From the moment we got there it was like—like he was interested in you.” He looked around to the others. “I can’t be the only one who noticed that.”
“I did too,” Peter admitted quietly.
Sirius gave Peter a look, silently telling him to shut up. Remus paled slightly and tried to play it off but he could feel the weight of their stares.
“It doesn’t matter what he meant,” Sirius jumped in. “Centaurs like being cryptic as you said. They see things that aren’t clear to us. Doesn’t mean it’s something we need to worry about.”
Remus’ eyes fell on Sirius. They exchanged a glance. And Remus saw it. Oh God.
“Whatever it is, it sounds bad. Real bad,” James went on. “Hagrid, if You-Know-Who is reaching for supporters and Death Eaters are attacking magical creatures, shouldn’t we be prepared? Shouldn’t everyone be prepared?”
Hagrid looked at them, their young faces full of determination and fearlessness, and he felt a pang of worry and sadness. They were so young, too young to be caught up in this.
“Yeh jus’ keep yer heads down, an’ stay outta trouble,” he said. “There’s a lot yeh don’ know, an’ it’s best it stays that way fer now.”
Remus glanced at the fire, the warmth doing little to ease the chill that had settled over him. Pholus’ words kept playing in his mind. He knew secrets had a way of coming to light, and the truth about him was a shadow that grew longer with every passing day.
Though uncertain about what would happen next, he was certain of one thing—Sirius knew his secret.