A matter of trust
James waited a long time. Longer than necessary. The half hour stretched and crumpled in on itself, dragging itself into a suspended time that scratched at patience, tore it apart.
The room was a shell of silence, rough with the boy's despair.
Finally, his legs moved by inertia, loose but listless. The bare grayness of the room poisoned his pupils as he left it. And he felt suffocated, overwhelmed.
The corridor of Hogwarts swallowed him, gray and severe. The stones of the floor were cold slabs under his steps and the torches along the walls cast geometric shadows on his face and James ended up stuck inside them. The flames rippled by rivulets of wind reflected a cold light on his cheeks, sculpting them with hard, angular lines. His breathing came out slow and short, like a suppressed moan.
Why hadn't Regulus shown up? James wasn't able to say if he actually had the right to be offended, but he did anyway. He got offended the way children do when you break a promise. Maybe because Mom and Dad never broke their promises. James was their only son and their priority. It often happened that they would spoil him. Just a little.
The truth was that Regulus had wasted his time. Potter just couldn't stand that.
The pictures on the walls leered at him indiscreetly, whispering from one frame to another.
Frustration built up in his shoulders, burned in his belly. It was an anger that wasted away in uncertainty. A thick fog, the kind that wraps around thoughts and leaves behind only the acrid taste of resentment.
He reached the dormitory and the soft light of a spell flickered in his face. He pushed open the door with a tired, almost listless gesture. The worn wood bent in a low groan. He entered the room unannounced, expecting to find no one inside.
The light in the room was a breath of melted wax and sunset. The scarlet drapes of the canopy filtered the world into a red, bloody gloom. The air had the heaviness of a room struggling for air.
Remus was there.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped between his knees, wearing his uniform. His shirt was wrinkled, the cuffs frayed like wilted petals on his thin forearms. His trousers sagged over his striped socks in defeated folds and his tie was a disheveled specter of color.
Worn in painful negligence, the uniform said more than his lips ever had.
His head was a tangle of brown hair, which, limp on his face, cast sad shadows on his eyes filled with resentment.
And he was pale, Remus, all shriveled, crumpled on the bed. And his eyes - dense and opaque - were exhausted, bottomless wells, where a dim light stagnated in agony.
James felt the sorrow creep between his ribs. It was a heavy, acrid pain, that overbearingly intertwined with anger. That anger that throbbed under his skin.
Because Remus was there, but he had taken refuge elsewhere. Because instead of turning to him, he had turned to Lily. Because he had not trusted James.
Oh, he was furious.
The silence enveloped the room, thick and agonizing, fog that crowded inside him. And James had to bite the inside of his cheek, squint his eyes. Because anger whipped his every breath and sorrow licked his every exhale. And it was too much. It made him regurgitate the air.
When he finally lowered his pupils to the boy in front of him, Remus gave him a synthetic smile, patched on his features. And James exploded.
«We've reappeared, I see.» Potter's words began in a cathartic breath, contrite with a surrender that was now inevitable.
Remus raised his pupils to him, which, very black and dilated, peered at him uncompromisingly. His body stiffened, a tension that crossed his shoulders and spread along his back at the base of his neck. His mouth was pouting, curling at the edges in those numb breaths of his.
«Yeah» he said, a sardonic smile sharpening his features. He closed the book he had been balancing on his knees and bunched his shirt up to his elbows. Throughout it all, he kept his gaze down.
James felt his hands tingle.
He parted his lips in a smack and felt his tongue touch the roof of his mouth in a rough caress. «You could have talked to me, Remus.» He said firmly. «Whatever the issue was.» Potter spread his hands out at his sides, palms open and facing the boy, as if inviting him to speak.
The answer didn't come right away. Remus stood still for a long time, his chin tilted and his chocolate eyes peering at James with his budding resentment. The room seemed to close in on them, their breathing a suffocating complaint to their conversation. James felt time standing still.
Then finally, Remus spoke.
«Right because you care?» He accused, the words vibrating against his ribcage. He sucked in air, quivering with something James couldn't quite place. Yet it frightened his eyes.
Potter's jaw tightened, and a raging anger began to swirl, to pound inside him.
«Of course I do!» he said, his tone harsher, more gruff than he'd originally intended. «It's a matter of trust. Godric, Remus, I thought we were beyond this bullshit.»
Remus looked up abruptly, his eyes two cold irises.
«Oh, I'm sorry. You're right, James. I forgot that listening only to Sirius's version and then getting angry at me for God knows what is your way of showing that you care!» He barked, a wry smile plastered across his face.
James felt the words hit him like a punch in the centre of his stomach. There was a frantic buzzing in the back of his brain, his eyes widening. He opened his mouth to speak and his lips separated with a pop. Yet he didn't make even the barest of sounds.
Oh.
His anger, however, didn't dissipate.
«Well—» he ran his tongue over his teeth. «Do you at least know why I'm angry at you? Because you don't talk to me! You act as if we've all wronged you because you're angry at Sirius. You ignore us, you don't show up for breakfast!» His voice shook with rage.
«Godric, do you even know how worried I was about you?» he thundered, one hand tightening on the wooden pole that held up the roof of the four-poster bed. «I haven't seen you all day and then I find out you're keeping secrets from us, your best friends, to tell them to Evans. There's Sirius bloody crying and that stupid boy who doesn't even— James bit the inside of his cheek. He tried to steer the conversation back to a less dangerous place. Hoping, selfishly, that Remus wouldn't notice—And how the fuck do you know Pads talked to me?»
Remus didn't move, didn't deny. The silence thickened, thick and merciless, like ash falling slowly and relentlessly from a fire that's gone out. His eyes, brown and hard, stared at him with studied, resolute composure. But his hands betrayed that calmness: his intertwined fingers continued to move, to twist.
«How do I know?» Lupin raised an eyebrow, the sardonic smile stretching his face again, his expression unruffled. He pushed himself forward on his forearms, his shoulders all stiff and his neck a bundle of nerves. And he laughed, in a way that was so miserable and so... not him. James saw a terrifying urgency in his eyes, though.
«Well, for starters, Sirius is always whining like a five-year-old, you can't keep your mouth shut and Peter—well, Peter can't hide a damn thing.» Remus shook his head in disbelief, his lips drawn into a straight line.
James took a half step back, his features saddened like a wounded animal's. He opened his mouth to argue, but found only dryness at the back of his throat. The silence was scratching his ribs, the grief was poisoning him, but the anger... that kept him afloat.
«That's not the point!» he snapped, his voice louder, rougher. «The point is that—that you have no right to keep us out like this! You're the one who closes yourself off, the one who decides we have to understand you without you telling us anything about what's happening to you!»
Remus raised an eyebrow, a look of cold disbelief fading ever so slightly along the edges of his face. «I'm not entitled to that? Really? Why? Because you say so?» His voice cracked almost imperceptibly, a crack so subtle that James only noticed it because he knew him too well.
«Yes!» Potter burst out with a rush that made his voice vibrate. «Because we're your friends, Remus. Because we're us! Me, Sirius, Peter—fuck, we love you. You can't just—» He made a vague, desperate gesture, as if to indicate the heavy air around them. «—shut us out and pretend we don't exist!»
Remus didn't flinch, his gaze steady, unmoving. When he finally spoke, the words came out slowly, bristling. But also a little... softer.
«Maybe, James, it's because Lily understands me in a way that you don't.»
«What does that even mean, Remus? Huh?» He pushed his pupils onto him. «We've always been here for you! Always! But you... you just stand there, with that stupid martyr look of yours, and—and you decide for yourself that we can't understand, that we can't help you. Is that what you think of us?»
Remus tilted his head slightly and bit his lip, choked on his own emotions. «That's not what I think of you» he said softly, his voice thin, naked. «That's what I know of myself.» He kept his eyes down.
«Don't even try to do that.» Potter hissed, his voice a rough growl. «Don't tell me it's just a you thing. Not to me, Remus. Not to us.»
Remus didn't move, didn't step back. He just stood there, still. Then he tilted his face toward James, and his gaze hardened.
«Not to you? James, do you ever listen to me? Because I don't know how many more times I have to say it: it's not about you. It's about me. And if you can't accept that there are things you can't understand—that you can't change—»
«Bullshit!» James interrupted, with a vehemence that made even himself flinch. «It's all bullshit, Remus, and you know it! You're just looking for an excuse to keep us away. But that's not how it works, not with us! You can't do it all by yourself!»
Remus's jaw tightened, and for the first time the tension showed in his eyes. «And you can't decide for me.»
He said, so hard and rough that for a moment James felt all the air in his lungs being denied him, sucked away.
«It's not just that.» Potter's lips pursed, his eyes glazed. «It's not just Lily. It's that you don't trust us.»
Remus looked away, a gesture so quick and immediate that it was unlikely it would get noticed. Yet, James did and his heart sank to his stomach.
«It's not a matter of trust.» Remus whispered finally, the words a trickle of air in the stifling atmosphere of the room. «It's the fact that this is different.»
James didn't understand at first. He shook his head and his dark curls fell like an ornament on his forehead. «Different? Different how, Moony? You don't need to hide from us. We're in this together, remember?» He tried, because Remus had to understand that he was there, that they were there.
Lupin looked up, and for a moment his eyes betrayed all the tiredness, all the pain he kept compressed in his chest. His face betrayed the grief that vibrated inside him.
«It's just... it's just that you don't understand, Prongs. You can't understand.» he mumbled, his lips twisted with a repentance so severe it made him gasp.
«Then explain it to me!» James said, an explosion of frustration that reverberated off the walls of the room. «Christ, Remus, I'm here! I'm not going anywhere! So stop locking me out and let me in!»
But Remus didn't answer. He just stood there, breathing slowly and shoulders hunched.
James reached into his satchel with a hasty, almost clumsy gesture and pulled out a small paper wrapper. The cake he had been saving for him. It was squashed around the edges, the icing stuck to the cloth he had wrapped it in that morning, when, without thinking much, he had thrown it in his backpack absentmindedly with affectionate care.
He looked at it for a long moment. Then without giving himself time to think much of it, he threw it at Remus. A gesture dripping with childishness. Because James was a bit capricious indeed.
The wrapper whipped through the air, thrown in a sharp, impulsive gesture, and hit Remus in the chest. The cake fell, leaving a trail of cocoa-colored crumbs and a pale imprint of chocolate cream on the boy's crumpled shirt. The fabric, already tired, stained, as if it had absorbed, along with the icing, all the weight of the tension that filled the room.
The silence stretched between them, a dense, suspended interval. James remained still, his hands clenched at his sides, his face screwed up and his eyes burning with frustration. They stared at Remus without giving in.
Then he spoke. «And you think I don't care about you, you sucker!» Each word came out rough, the syllables burning in his throat.
Remus looked down slowly. He saw the cake lying on the floor, squashed, deformed, reduced to something shapeless and perhaps because of that way more significant. For a moment, everything seemed to have stopped. His breathing slowed, became heavier, as if he was trying to fill his lungs with air that kept escaping him.
Then he burst out laughing.
The laughter hit him suddenly, a clear, crystalline sound that seeped into the crackling silence. It shook his thin shoulders, lifted his chin, and shattered against the walls of the room. Remus raised a hand to his face, trying in vain to smother it, but it was already too late. His eyes blazed, and for a moment the weight on him seemed to melt, to fade away.
James stared at him, unable to move, his heart pounding against his ribs. Disbelief smoothed the lines on his forehead and a hesitant smile appeared on his lips. It was a fragile, unsteady smile, but it soon grew. A short, raspy laugh escaped his throat, then another, louder, and before he knew it he was laughing too.
The room was filled with their laughter. It was a strange sound, dissonant yet right. James ran a hand through his hair, making it more messy than it already was, while Remus wiped away a tear that had slipped down his cheek.
«You're an idiot.» Lupin muttered, shaking his head with a tender, indulgent smile. His voice, now devoid of its sarcasm, had returned to normal. Careful, but more relaxed.
James shrugged. «That I know.» he replied with a lightness that wasn't self-deprecating, but sincere. Then he added, «And you're a jerk, you know that?»
Remus laughed again, softly, the sound becoming a caress. «I know.» he said simply. His voice was tired, but finally sincere, free of the pent-up resentment that had stiffened him until very few moments before.
Then, «Will you tell me what's wrong, Moony?»
Remus tinkled.
The twilight was growing thinner and thinner, gold fading to purple and then blue. It was a sunset that seemed to be falling into the room, suffocating the air with a sense of inevitability. Everything from the books piled in a mess to the crumpled blanket on the bed seemed to be holding its breath, as if even the objects were reticent witnesses to the two boys.
Remus's hands were clenched on his knees, stiff as roots planted in the earth. He could feel the cold creeping up from his fingers to his shoulders, a chill crystallizing him from the inside. James searched for words, a bridge of syllables he could walk across to reach Remus but each attempt dissolved into a fog of uncertainty.
Potter opened his mouth and then closed it again. The silence had an almost physical consistency, thick as honey, impossible to pass through without becoming entangled in it. The words piled up inside him, heavy and useless.
Finally he found something to say. «Remus... tell me what happened with Sirius.» His voice came out in a whisper, fainter than he had intended.
«Nothing happened.» The harshness of Lupin's words appeared large and looming, proof to his shameful fear.
James, however, shook his head. «Don't lie to me.»
Remus looked up, peering at him in two irises filled with pain. His face was drawn. «Okay.» He finally agreed.
«But you mustn't tell anyone, James. Please. Promise me.»
«Yes.» Potter said, his tone softer but cracked with urgency. «I promise.» He clutched the purple bedspread in his hands, the fabric seeping into the spaces between his fingers, feeling fluffy.
Remus looked down again, his lower lip trembling slightly. When he spoke, the words spilled compliantly from the edges of his lips, secretly obsessive.
«I'm angry at Sirius because...» The words got caught in his throat, stringy. He swallowed hard, his neck twitching in pain, his Adam's apple jutting out like never before. «I like him.» He admitted.
And James laughed.
It was a nervous, almost hysterical laugh that escaped his lips. An awkward sound, a desperate attempt to appear calm.
«I like Sirius too.» He said, stiffening. He looked at Lupin through two synthetic irises, contracted with anxiety.
Remus stared at him, real and heartfelt and inexorable. Then he braced himself: «No, James. I like Sirius.»
Oh.
Oh.
Panic.
James felt it buzzing in the pit of his stomach, swirling in his gut. And... what?
He licked his lips, his eyebrows arched in surprise and his eyes glazed over with shock.
And maybe, maybe Moony was joking. Yes, that had to be it. That was it. And yet... And yet Remus was a cloudy mess of tremors and desolation. And how could he be lying?
James wasn't able to say anything. He stood there, frozen, his shoulders numb and his pupils focused on the frown on the boy's forehead. He waited for the other to say something. And his waiting wore the robes of supplication.
And Remus did. He spoke again, each syllable a silent prayer fraying his voice. «I... I don't know why. But it's like this» The darkness seemed to suck his voice away. «And I... yesterday Sirius said to me, 'If you weren't a boy, I'm sure you'd be my person,' and half an hour later I found him on one of the sofas bloody devouring Mary's face.»
The words stopped, hung there, suspended and fragile. Remus trembled, the muscles of his face tensed in a desperate effort to keep himself in control of his reactions. His eyes were two pools of amber choked in shame.
«I still like girls, but also...»
James didn't know where to look, where to put his hands. He squinted and his thoughts twisted around him, snakes crawling across his skin. But there was one certainty in all of this. Only one. And yet, it was all he needed.
Remus was still Remus. And that was all that really mattered.
Finally, the words escaped his lips in a sigh: «Well, Sirius is an asshole.»
A laugh erupted from Remus's lungs. Tired, wet, but warm. It was a sound of relief and surrender, of gratitude for having shaken off such a burden, at least for a little while.
It was a laugh that shook his shoulders and took his breath away.
Without thinking, James leaned forward and hugged him. It was a spontaneous, primal gesture, the kind your body commands you before your mind knows what to do. Because James had always been a bit like that. A boy made of flesh and instinct. And the rest did not matter. Not to him.
His arms tightened around Remus's thin shoulders and he felt the heat, the jutting shoulder blades, the ragged breathing against his chest. And he only knew that he cared for him.
«I care for you Moony.» James murmured, and he felt the air struggling inside him. «And that will never change.»
Remus's sobs swirled in his ears and his fingers tightened in the fabric of James's shirt. Potter felt his gratitude right then and there.
Remus sniffled, pulling away in an attempt to compose himself, but his eyes were still bright, his face streaked with tear-lines that testified to a pain held back for too long. He peered at him, trying to read James's features, the shadows beneath his eyes. He was trying to see if there was contempt, revulsion, a barrier that had risen without him noticing in James's eyes.
But Potter was looking at him with the same intensity as always, a little lost perhaps, a little scared, but genuine, firm in his position of friend.
Remus's chest heaved in a strangled sob and for the first time in a long time, he felt that he was not fighting alone. Fear, that many-headed monster that had tormented him through sleepless nights, seemed to have lost some of its power. He was not completely defeated, but at least for now it had been silenced.
The sunset outside the window had faded and the room was adorned with warm shadows, soft lights.
The embrace melted slowly. Just like snow defrosting into the first warmth of spring. James pulled back a little. Just enough to look Remus in the eye, but not so much that he was completely distant from him.
«Thank you.» Remus whispered. Simple, concise, yet so meaningful.
James smiled at him, more confidently this time.
But just then, the door banged open and Sirius, followed by Peter, entered the room.
«I just ignored him as usual.» Sirius continued his rant, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. «I didn't want to take his pointless pureblood lecture.»
James pricked up his ears.
«You did the right thing.» Peter said, walking beside him with a slight frown. «He's only been causing you trouble.»
Sirius nodded. His lips, thin and glossy, curled in uncertainty. «Yes, I know.»
Then, silence. «Mum made him cut his hair.» He began again, paying no attention to the others. He never did when it came to Regulus. «I don't like it. He's always preferred it long.»
Sirius rubbed his eyes, lips pouting as Peter peered at him over his long eyelashes. «And it makes his nose look crooked.»
James burst into laughter at that comment. Warm, uncontrollable, and raucous. Sirius turned to him, a grin already blooming on his handsome face. However, his eyes got stuck elsewhere.
More specifically, on Lupin. And that simple gesture, that shift in focus, made something in the air freeze. Whatever he'd been meaning to say stuck in the back of his throat, and his eyes, usually so bright and provocative, were on Remus. Severe as ever. Or maybe James had never noticed it before. He wondered how he couldn't have.
Because Sirius's iris had shrunk to nothing, his black pupil reduced to Remus's figure. And he wore his face in tense features, marked by the ferocity of his gaze.
Then, all of a sudden, he snapped out of his thoughts.
«Moony, Prongs.» He greeted them. But his eyes were still locked on the werewolf: bristly. «What were you talking about?»
Remus, alerted, turned fully toward him. He ignored his question. «Hello, Sirius.» He said gruffly.
But Sirius - James knew - was as stubborn as one can be. «Hi, what were you talking about?»
Lupin stiffened. He searched desperately for something to say, anything, but his throat was dry and his shirt collar was pinching his neck.
It was James who spoke up. «Us? Nothing. Remus was just laughing at your paranoia about Regulus's hair. Right, Moony?»
James's laugh sounded far too forced and Remus glared at him, but said nothing. Sirius instead raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.
«Hair is a very important thing, Prongs.» Sirius said, crossing his arms in that grand, slightly childish way of his. «And Regulus's even more so, since it's about his only decent quality.» He snorted. «But how do I expect you to know that? You're not much better off than he is.»
Peter burst out laughing, clutching Sirius's shoulder. «Stop obsessing about your brother, Sirius. It's creepy.»
Sirius shrugged, but his gaze returned to Remus, more searching this time, concerned. «Seriously, though. What were you talking about? Are you okay, Moony?»
James saw the muscles go Remus's face go numb as he forced himself to answer. «Yes, I'm fine. I'm just a little tired.»
Sirius frowned, as if he wasn't entirely convinced, but he didn't press the issue. «Okay.» he said, arching a doubtful eyebrow. «Well, in any case, you need to cheer up, because I'm going to put our plan of action into action tonight. And I don't want any excuses.»
Peter snorted. «Sirius, doesn't it seem a little late to be going out into the garden? What if McGonagall finds out?»
«Well, then I'll have Prongs and I to distract her.» Sirius winked at him, his chin lined with the evening shadows and his straight nose wrinkled in his best spellbinding robes. There was still something unresolved in his gaze as he turned to Remus.
And just like that they were all together again on Remus' bed, half laughing and half not knowing what to say as they explained the plan they had conceived that morning to Moony and discussed how to put it into action.
Remus, sitting on the edge, had his shoulders hunched and his eyes fixed on James for them to not move elsewhere, his jaw clenched.
The room was a tangle of voices, sudden laughter and imposed silences. But in the center of it all, Remus remained still, distant, absorbed in that suffocating need to not look at Sirius. And Potter, not knowing whether to speak or remain silent, curled up next to him, feeling the uneasiness vibrating under his skin, a shadow that left no escape, not even between the walls of their dormitory.
«Okay, we're in a bit of a hurry so: Where are we at with the spell? Moony, Pads?» James clapped his hands as if to demand attention. It was late at night and they had to be both clever and determined if they were to escape trouble.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, his ears pricked up. His eyes, grey under the warm glow of the light were only watching Remus, though. They remained fixed there.
«Are you sure this is a good idea?» Peter asked, his tone gentle but tinged with a certain stiffness. There was no sign of uncertainty in his eyes, only a sharp curiosity. «We have to make sure this works. One wrong move and we could end up turning the whole thing into a disaster.»
«It won't be a disaster.» Remus answered without looking up. «We've done much more complicated things.» He stated determinedly.
Peter turned his chin to James, peering at him past his round eyes and chubby cheeks.
«Have you all even considered that those brooms aren't very stable? If we do the spell wrong, there will be players flying around the field and breaking their ribs!» He said, biting his lower lip nervously. James frowned.
«Oh, you're so boring! Since when do you care about this stuff? If those dickheads end up in the hospital wing, all the better. A hit or two in the head the head wouldn't be that bad for them» Sirius loosened his tie, letting it fall pale around his thin neck.
«Peter's right.» Lupin began to play with his shirt cuffs, his gaze unconsciously moving to where Black had been fiddling earlier. He bit the inside of his cheek. «We need to stay focused. There's also a risk of someone noticing the brooms are under a spell and intervening before the match starts. We also need to make sure they're all in sync. Otherwise, they'll crash into each other.»
James noticed Sirius wrinkle his nose. «Good, so we need to be aware of the risks and stay focused.»
Pettigrew scratched the bridge of his nose. «Considering who we're talking about- he glanced sideways at Sirius and James- everything's going to be fine, boys!» he said ironically.
«Good, now that Peter's given us the success statistics of our plan-»
«Which are equal to zero.»
«I think we've said everything there was to say.» Remus finished with a thin, but tired smile. «Now let's go. Otherwise it'll get too late.»
The common room welcomed them. The rough stone walls were lit by the warm light of the fire that burned undisturbed in the large central fireplace, emitting a soft roar, a faint crackle. Above it, a painting of a sulky old woman was pinned to the wall. There were also more frivolous, more personal details that urged welcome: an embroidered pillow, the subtle scent of candle wax and aged parchment, a scarf left behind on one of the armchairs or a pair of gloves hanging by the fireplace.
The arched windows, framed by crimson velvet curtains, opened onto a view now obscured by the reflection of the lamps. The glass, often fogged by the cold outside, seemed to retain the warm intimacy of the room, hospitable and comfortable.
The furniture was sturdy, of dark, solid wood, worn by time but full of character. The armchairs and sofas were upholstered in red fabric and trimmed with gold, soft and fluffy. James was reminded of when, only two days ago, he had dozed on one of them with his herbology book still balanced on his knees.
The remaining paintings wore vibrant colors and the scenes depicted were constantly in motion. Between them, there were small paintings with gold frames housed portraying wizards and witches who sometimes leaned out during the day to watch the students' activities curiously.
And then there was the light: soft, opaque, in harmony with the warm gold of the fire and the dancing shadows created by the candelabras and oil lamps. In the dim light, every corner was welcoming.
Beneath the invisibility cloak, tugged at by James to fit them all, the four boys moved furtively through the shadows. Their figures blurred into the darkness of the castle, their ankles barely touching its hem. The sound of their footsteps disappeared into the silence of the corridor, where the only sound that accompanied them was the rustling of curtains fluttering faintly in adjacent rooms. The moon, high in the sky, reflected slivers of light on their faces.
As they passed through the door, the Hogwarts courtyard stretched out before them, frozen in silence. The moon cast long rays across the silver stones, radiating a reverberating pattern of shadows. Given it was evening the garden was empty, which exuded excitement, but also uneasiness. The boys paused for a moment, almost surprised by the peace that reigned in the courtyard. The silhouette of a forgotten statue stood out in the gloom, watching the boys progress with eyes that seemed to vanish into the darkness.
«Merlin, it's hot!» Sirius complained, shifting his shoulders as if to shake off the sweat. His grey eyes shone in the solemnity of the darkness and his aristocratic features were carved by it, taking on its charm.
Peter advanced carelessly, pressed against Sirius's back. Therefore, he involuntarily crushed the boy's foot.
«Ouch!» Sirius hissed offended. «What do you think you're doing, Wormtail? You're a wild animal!»
Peter wrinkled his nose, pouting. «Me? You're the one who always makes me fall!»
«So you're telling me you did not just crush my foot?»
Suddenly, a distant noise made the four boys stiffen. It was a low, rough sound, like the creaking of a door. For a moment they exchanged furtive glances, tension trapped in their gazes.
«Easy there.» Remus whispered, his voice barely a whisper. His face was lit by the moonlight wearing the expression of someone used to reading in the dark, deciphering silence. «It could just be the wind.»
«Or Mrs. Norris» Peter whispered, his eyes wide, already imagining the cat peering at them with those large, dull, cantankerous eyes of hers.
Sirius snorted, but the echo of the sound stiffened his shoulders. «If it's Mrs. Norris, the we'll give her a reason to meow.» He twisted his lips into a smile that tried to be cocky but was betrayed by a subtle uneasiness.
James raised a finger to his lips, claiming silence. «Enough talking. Let's go.»
They started moving again, quieter this time, their figures shrouded in shadow as they crossed the yard. The moonlight made silvery patterns on the damp grass, crunching under their footfalls. The invisibility cloak flapped in the night wind, offering only partial protection against the vastness of the night.
Suddenly, Sirius tripped over a protruding root, and the whole group fell awkwardly to the ground, elbows and knees in a heap. The impact made a louder noise than they had intended, and for a moment they held their breath, waiting for something alarming to happen.
«Stupid cloak» muttered Black, standing up and shaking the blades of grass from his cloak. »It never covers us enough.»
James, face still pressed to the ground, looked up and glared at him. «Or maybe you're just not watching where you're going.»
«Oh, right, because you absolutely don't stop walking every three steps!» said Sirius, but offered a hand to help him stand up.
Peter struggled to his feet, groaning as he tried to wipe a patch of grass from his elbow. «At least it wasn't me who made us fall this time!»
«Come on.» James muttered, adjusting his glasses on his nose. «We can't afford to waste any more time.»
Their laughter faded into the wind, and with it, the time to bicker. They moved back into the shadows, covered by the invisibility cloak.
«We're here.» Remus stared at the broom closet with a determination that brooked no hesitation. His movements were measured, quick, but careful at the same time. The boys followed him, now ready to see the plan move forward.
The broom closet door, which seemed impossible to open, became, under Remus's expert fingers, a simple obstacle to overcome. His hands brushed the lock with precision and the air around seemed to stand on end, crystallize in anticipation. Sirius watched him in fascination as the moonlight caressed his features.
One last movement, a dull click, and the door swung open with a soft creak.
«Here we are» Lupin murmured. The boys crept inside.
James's eyes shone with pure anticipation, while Sirius adjusted naturally and Peter tried to contain his unmotivated nervousness by biting his nails. Remus no longer seemed tired, but filled with an imperturbable serenity. The closet was cramped, but the sight of all those brooms neatly arranged along the walls gave an idea of order and desolation that could only belong to the Slytherins.
The four boys stood in a circle around the bundle of brooms, their faces barely illuminated by the cold moonlight filtering through the cracks in the wood. Each of them had a wand clutched in his hand, drawn with a confident gesture from the back pockets of his robes.
James stared at his wand, his fingertips stroking the hilt where little webs had been carved into the wood. He held it between his fingers, his grip firm.
«Do you remember the spell?» Remus's voice broke the silence, low and deep, as scratchy as the scars etched across his face. The shadows of his wounds seemed to dance in the moonlight, giving his features a grave and determined look.
Sirius gave him his usual cheeky, almost mocking smile, a perfect curve revealing white teeth and blurry lips. «Yes, Moony. Now let's get going. We haven't got all night.»
James tilted his head slightly, one corner of his mouth curving in agreement. «Ready?» he asked.
Remus nodded, Peter swallowed slightly, and Sirius gripped his wand tightly, as if it were an extension of his will.
They counted together, their voices echoing in a whisper.
One.
Two.
Three.
The words of the spell burst from the steep edges of their confident, strong lips.
Then a beam of red light exploded from the tips of their wands, vibrant and pulsating, spilling into the wood grain. The brooms came to life with an almost imperceptible tremor, shot through with breaths. The light brightened for a moment, running like sap through the grain of the wood, then suddenly went out, leaving a silence full of trepidation in its wake.
James lowered his wand in one fluid motion, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. «Now all we have to do is wait.» he said confidently.