Detention
September 16th, 1971
The rest of the school day passed in a blur for Remus. Classes were engaging but exhausting; he was still adjusting to the long hours. By the time dinner ended, he felt ready to collapse into bed—but he knew that wasn’t an option.
Detention with Snape loomed over him like a storm cloud.
As the clock struck seven, Remus dragged himself to Filch’s office, where Snape was already waiting, arms crossed and wearing his signature sneer.
“Both of you,” Filch grumbled, holding a grimy mop in one hand and a bucket in the other. “You’ll be cleaning the trophy room. By hand. No magic.”
“Of course,” Snape muttered under his breath, shooting a glare at Remus.
“Get to it, and if I catch either of you slacking, you’ll be here all week,” Filch barked before stomping away.
It was a miserable evening.
The trophy room was dimly lit, the gleam of polished brass and gold muted in the flickering candlelight. Remus picked up a cloth and began scrubbing a dusty plaque, trying to ignore Snape’s presence.
“You’re quiet,” Snape said after a while, his tone dripping with mockery. “Finally out of clever remarks, Lupin?”
Remus didn’t rise to the bait. “Just trying to get this over with.”
“Of course you are,” Snape muttered. “That’s all you Gryffindors do—rush through things without thinking.”
Remus sighed. “Why do you care so much about what house I’m in? It’s not like we’re forced to interact every day.”
Snape didn’t answer immediately. He continued polishing a goblet, his expression dark. “You’ll see soon enough,” he said cryptically.
Remus frowned but decided not to press. He focused on his work, scrubbing and polishing until his arms ached. By the time Filch returned to inspect their work, Remus’s back was sore, and his hands were raw.
“Not bad,” Filch said grudgingly. “Off you go. And don’t let me see you here again.”
Remus trudged back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping the common room would be empty so he could slip straight into bed. But when he climbed through the portrait hole, he was met with the sight of James, Sirius, and Peter lounging in armchairs by the fire.
“Finally!” Sirius exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “What took so long?”
“Filch,” Remus muttered, collapsing into an empty chair. “And Snape, of course.”
James grinned mischievously. “Well, you’re just in time. We’ve been waiting for you to get back so we can plan.”
“Plan what?” Remus asked, though he already had a sinking suspicion.
“Revenge,” Sirius said with a gleam in his eye. “That slimy git can’t keep getting away with tormenting people.”
Remus hesitated. “I don’t know. Detention was bad enough. Do we really want to stoop to his level?”
“Stooping?” James said, feigning offense. “Remus, this isn’t stooping. It’s justice.”
“Think of it this way,” Peter added, his face serious. “If we don’t stand up to him now, he’ll just keep going.”
Sirius threw an arm around Remus’s shoulders. “Come on, Professor Lupin. Use that big brain of yours to help us come up with something brilliant.”
Despite his better judgment, Remus felt a grin tugging at his lips. He couldn’t deny that Snape deserved a little comeuppance.
“Fine,” he said, leaning forward. “What do you have in mind?”
James spread a parchment map across the coffee table. “We’ve been brainstorming all evening. Here’s what we’ve got so far…”
The four of them huddled close, their whispered voices filled with excitement as they crafted their plan.
Remus couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth as he looked around at his newfound friends.