Settling In
September 2nd, 1971
The first full day at Hogwarts was a whirlwind of activity, a strange mixture of wonder and nerves that left Remus feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. The Gryffindor first-years spent the morning being led around the castle by a pair of prefects, who rattled off the names of corridors, shortcuts, and classrooms with practiced ease.
“This is the Transfiguration classroom,” said one of the prefects, gesturing to a large, sunlit room with high windows. “You’ll be spending a lot of time here if Professor McGonagall doesn’t turn you into ferrets first.”
Several students laughed nervously, but Sirius leaned toward James and whispered, “Bet I’d make a great ferret. Sleek and clever.”
“More like a mutt,” James whispered back, earning a smothered laugh from Peter.
Remus stayed quiet, marveling at the castle instead. The towering stone walls seemed to hum with ancient magic, and every now and then, something would surprise him—a suit of armor that turned its head as they passed, a tapestry that rippled with laughter, or a staircase that decided mid-step to swing them all to an entirely different landing.
By the time the tour ended, his feet ached, and his head spun with all the new information.
After lunch, the first-years were allowed to explore on their own, which James immediately took as an invitation to lead their little group down to the Great Lake.
“Come on,” he said, his eyes alight with excitement. “I heard there’s a giant squid in there!”
“A giant squid?” Peter echoed, his voice almost a squeak. “Why would they keep a giant squid in a school?”
“Because it’s brilliant,” James said, already marching ahead.
Remus trailed behind with Sirius, who walked with a kind of lazy confidence that Remus couldn’t quite fathom.
“Ever seen a squid, Lupin?” Sirius asked, glancing over at him.
“Not a giant one,” Remus replied, managing a small smile.
“Well, today’s your lucky day,” Sirius said, flashing him a grin.
The lake was impossibly vast, its dark waters rippling under the cloudy afternoon sky. James and Sirius wasted no time skimming stones across its surface, while Peter watched nervously from the shore.
“Do you think it’s dangerous?” Peter asked, glancing uneasily at the water.
“Of course it’s dangerous,” Sirius said, throwing a perfect skip. “That’s the fun of it.”
Remus chuckled, though his mind kept wandering. The moonrise felt closer with every passing minute.
The rest of the afternoon was spent back in the Gryffindor common room, where Sirius and James challenged each other to an increasingly chaotic series of Exploding Snap games.
“You’re cheating!” Sirius declared, pointing an accusatory finger at James after another card exploded in his hand.
“I’m just better than you,” James shot back, laughing.
Peter, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flinched every time a card burst. “Maybe you two should stop before—”
At that moment, a particularly large explosion sent a small scorch mark spiraling up the table.
“Before that happens,” Peter finished lamely as an older prefect approached, arms crossed.
Sirius offered a wide, unapologetic grin, but the prefect just sighed. “You lot are hopeless,” he said, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Dinner was another grand affair in the Great Hall, with platters of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and golden Yorkshire puddings appearing before them. James and Sirius spent most of the meal debating the merits of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, while Peter listened eagerly.
Remus, however, barely touched his food. The smell of it turned his stomach, and every time he glanced at the enchanted ceiling, his chest tightened. The twilight sky above was deepening into shades of indigo, and he knew the moon wasn’t far behind.
By the time they returned to the common room, Remus felt like he could barely keep himself together. His hands were clammy, and his pulse thrummed in his ears.
“Lupin?” Sirius’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Remus blinked and realized Sirius was watching him from across the room, his dark eyes narrowed. “You alright? You’ve been quiet all day.”
“I’m fine,” Remus said quickly, forcing a weak smile. “Just tired.”
Sirius didn’t look convinced, but before he could press further, James appeared, holding up a Chocolate Frog he had smuggled from dinner.
“Look what I nicked!” James said proudly, dropping onto the couch beside Sirius.
Remus seized the opportunity to excuse himself, mumbling something about needing fresh air. Before anyone could stop him, he slipped through the portrait hole and into the quiet corridor beyond.
The walk to the infirmary felt endless. The corridors were dimly lit, and his footsteps echoed faintly against the stone walls. His parents had told him what to expect, had reassured him that Madam Pomfrey would take care of everything, but their words didn’t stop the knot of dread tightening in his stomach.
When he turned the final corner, he saw her waiting for him. Madam Pomfrey stood by the infirmary doors, her hands clasped in front of her and her expression kind but solemn.
“This way, Mr. Lupin,” she said gently.
Remus hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the direction of the common room. He imagined James, Sirius, and Peter laughing by the fire, completely unaware of where he was or what was about to happen.
Then he turned back to Madam Pomfrey, squared his shoulders, and followed her through the doors, the weight of the full moon pressing heavily on his back.