Kindred Spirits
On September fifth, Remus woke up aching all over, as if he’d done some kind of heavy labor the day before and desperately needed to stretch. The other boys in the dorm were still sleeping, the sun barely peeking over the horizon outside. He sat in the window seat, watching the sun rise through the crisscrossed leaded glass and trying to stretch his aching neck and shoulders.
“You look like shit,” a sleepy voice said behind him. Sirius sat down beside him. “Go back to bed, it’s way too early to be up.”
Remus looked at him warily. “I can’t. I don’t feel good.”
Sirius appraised him, one eyebrow arched. “Sick? Or homesick?”
Glaring, Remus looked away, back across the lawn. “Sick,” he said.
“So go to the hospital wing. Want me to walk you?” Sirius asked.
“I’ll be alright. You can go back to sleep.”
“Can’t,” Sirius replied with a yawn. “Once I’m up, I’m up. I’m thinking about having a look around for secret passages if you’re interested.” Remus just shook his head. “Suit yourself. See you at breakfast, I’ve heard it goes late on Sundays.” And he was gone. Remus realized with some surprised that he kind of missed the company.
He made it through the morning without incident, just laying on his bed reading. James and Peter woke up around ten and goofed around, throwing pillows at one another and making a general mess while Remus ignored them. They dragged him down to breakfast, where true to his word, Sirius was waiting, buttering toast and ignoring his mail.
“You should probably open that,” James said mildly. One envelope among the small stack was smoking slightly. “It’ll be a lot louder if you don’t, for one thing.”
“Maybe I want it to be louder,” Sirius replied, and James laughed.
“I guess that’s one way to make your mark,” he said with a grin. “I was considering something a bit more fun, but blowing up the breakfast table is a start.”
“What do you mean?” Sirius asked skeptically. Peter looked annoyed.
“James, could we at least have a few weeks of peace before you start causing problems?” he asked despairingly. “I deserve a break, don’t I?”
“You’ve had a break,” James said. “I’ve been good this week, haven’t I?” Peter rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything else. “I like planning practical jokes,” he told Sirius and Remus. “Pranks, you know? Mostly to see if I can get my dad to fall for them, but I feel like Hogwarts is totally uncharted territory. This school is our oyster, you know? But seriously -” He motioned to Sirius’s howler, a flame licking the edge of the envelope, “open that thing before it blows up, will you?” Irritably, Sirius reached over and grabbed it, ripping the flap. Immediately, a woman’s voice shrieked over the dull murmur of the hall.
Sirius Orion Black! the voice shrilled. This is beyond even you! To humiliate your father in such a way, you deplorable little -
“Want to leave?” Remus asked him in an undertone as the letter continued berating Sirius, but Sirius had set his jaw mulishly.
“If this is how she wants to act, let her. I’m surprised she even sent this, she’s so obsessed with appearances, she has to know this is makes her look like a bitch,” he said bitterly. Remus flinched, surprised at the coldness and the language Sirius used, so harsh for an eleven year old child. “I’m sure she thinks announcing what an embarrassment I am distances her from me somehow.”
This slight will not be forgotten! The screaming envelope warned. Remember your duty to this family and do not dishonor us again!
“Well, that was dramatic,” Sirius said into the uncomfortable silence, and there was an awkward laugh all around him. Across the room, Remus noted that the girl who appeared to have ratted him out to his mother looked scandalized, and he snorted.
“Your sister doesn’t seem to share your sense of humor,” he told Sirius, who laughed genuinely this time.
“Oh, Bella,” he sighed. “No wonder I’m in trouble, she’s as dramatic as my mother. If she’s the one who tattled on me, chances are she spun some grand little tale where I doffed the sorting hat and announced my allegiance to Gryffindor myself. Hateful bitch,” he said cheerily.
“You have a nasty mouth,” said the girl across from them mildly. She had dark skin and full, glossy girls bouncing around her face, the kind of pretty that made Remus stare a bit too long. “Do you kiss your mother with that?”
Sirius grinned at her and motioned to the still-smoking letter. “Do you think you’d kiss my mother?” he asked, and the girl laughed.
“Not likely. Your sister, then?” she asked.
“Cousin,” Sirius corrected. “I know the Black reputation of incest is strong, but so far I’ve been able to avoid the urge. But I’ll let you know if I ever give in -” he paused, looking at her expectantly.
“Mary,” she supplied, reaching out and shaking his hand pompously. “Mary Macdonald. And you’ve no reputation with me, my parents are muggles.”
“Ahhh,” Sirius replied wickedly. “Mind saying that a bit louder so my cousin can hear? If she knows I’m touching a muggleborn, I may be able to swing another Howler before Monday night.”
Across from Remus, Peter was whispering to James. “Are you sure you want to be friends with him? He’s insane.”
“Isn’t he?” James replied with a grin.
Hardly able to stomach tea and dry toast, Remus escaped not long after to make his way up to the hospital wing. He didn’t need to be there until the evening, but he knew it would be easier to get away now when no one was paying attention than to answer a million questions about feeling sick. Instead, he chose to answer a million questions about feeling sick anyway.
“Now Remus, dear, what sort of symptoms do you experience before the onset of the moon?” Madame Pomfrey was asking. She’d handed him a pepper-up potion the moment he entered the hospital wing, followed by a glass of water.
“Tired, mostly,” he said. “But wired, like I can't rest and I need to run or something. Sore, too. Not like post-moon sore, like...like I’ve been exercising a little bit and need to stretch. And irritable, god everyone is so annoying.”
“And are people always annoying?” she asked with a knowing little smile.
Remus sighed. “Yes, but never like this. The day leading up to the transformation it’s like suddenly everyone around me is too stupid to function.”
“We’ll see if that specific issue continues as your peers mature. I know you met with Minerva over the summer to review your health plan, but I’d like to give you a review if that’s okay.” Remus nodded. He remembered everything, but he didn’t mind. “Either first thing in the morning or the night before, come get a pepper-up potion so you can manage the day leading up to your transformation. And please drink more water, dear. You look dreadfully dehydrated.” She gently pinched his arm for emphasis. She was right. “Then after dinner, about an hour before sunset you’ll meet me here. I’ll escort you down to the safehouse under a disillusionment charm to protect your...secret, from your peers. I’ll return at dawn, and you’ll recover in the hospital wing as-needed. Any questions?”
“What about in winter, when it’s dark at dinner time?” he asked.
“You’ll eat here. Breakfasts the morning after will be here as well, to be sure that you’re observed and resting.” She emphasized that last word, and Remus smiled sheepishly. He wasn’t great at resting, especially after the full moon. “You have a few hours until you have to be ready. Would you like to come back later?”
Remus rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Erm, is there any way I can stay here and lay down? The other first year boys are a bit wound up today, I don’t think I’ll be able to get a nap back in my dormitory.”
The smile she gave him was maternal and knowing, the type of “boys will be boys” look that would have felt condescending from anyone else. “Of course, love. Go ahead and lie down in that bed on the end. You can close the curtain so you have some privacy.” And she bustled off, presumably to go heal a skinned knee or brew a health potion. All Remus knew was that he had a comfortable, quiet bed and a long night ahead of him, and he wasn’t going to waste any time not taking advantage of it.
Remus blinked sleepily a few hours later, not sure of what time it was or even where he was for a moment. A familiar voice had said his name, and he sat up, trying to work out who it was and what they were talking about.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the voice was saying apologetically. “My roommates and I are just worried. We haven’t seen him since breakfast, and he said he wasn’t feeling well but he didn’t tell us where he was going. When he wasn’t in the dorm we got nervous.”
“That’s very noble of you, Mr Black, but I can’t exactly tell you who is and isn’t in the hospital wing. Students deserve privacy.”
“It’s okay, Madame Pomfrey,” Remus called sleepily. “I’m back here, Sirius.”
A moment later, Sirius ducked through the curtain. “There you are! We thought you might have gotten lost or something. I was worried the Slytherins had you locked in a broom cupboard or something.”
“I told you guys I get sick a lot,” Remus said, not quite meeting Sirius’s eyes.
“You also told me you weren’t going to the hospital wing,” Sirius pointed out.
“So I did,” Remus replied with a sigh, laying back down on the pillows stacked behind him.
“You talk like an old man,” Sirius said with a laugh.
“You talk like an old man,” Remus replied grumpily. “You said 'doffed' at breakfast, for pity’s sake.”
“And you said for pity’s sake just now!” said Sirius triumphantly.
“You both talk like old men,” Madame Pomfrey said firmly. “Mr Black, you should go to dinner. Remus, do you feel up to going to dinner?”
“I’d rather stay here if that’s alright. Sirius, go tell the others I’m fine, ok? I’m going to get some rest and I’m sure I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”
Sirius looked dubious, but he did as he was told, leaving Remus to eat a tuna salad sandwich and follow Madame Pomfrey down to the grounds.
It was a hard night, but in the way that most full moons were hard nights. Remus felt oddly proud of himself when Madam Pomfrey came to pick him up in the morning and he had only skinned knees, a bloody lip, and a deep ache in the beds of his fingernails.
“It may be because you had some space to move around,” Madam Pomfrey mused, motioning to the dusty abandoned house he’d spent the night in. “You likely need enrichment to keep from injuring yourself.”
Remus nodded vaguely. “Last month I came back with all my fingernails ripped out,” he said conversationally, and Madam Pomfrey winced.
“We need to do something about your situation during the summer months. As you grow, a space like that will be even less and less safe for you.”
“That’s what they have at the ministry,” Remus said with a shrug. “And Saint Mungo’s too, I think.”
“Well,” Madam Pomfrey replied a little huffily, applying a thick, greasy cream to his knees, “We’ll just have to lobby our officials for better, won’t we?”
Remus had never considered this before. His government was an enemy to him, yet his father worked there. It was a conundrum he avoided thinking about when he could help it. “You can change the government?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“You can try,” Madam Pomfrey said grimly. “And sometimes you can even succeed.” Remus nodded solemnly. Madam Pomfrey wiped the cream from his knees, which were now healed over completely. “Let’s get you up to the hospital wing for a bit of rest. I think if you’re lucky you’ll make your first class.”
The urge to whine about this was strong, but Madam Pomfrey was right. The less classes he missed, the less likely it was that anyone would notice. And besides, he liked learning. He liked the grit and determination it took to transfigure things, or charm them, the knowledge gained from trying and failing and trying again. James and Sirius didn’t need to put in such efforts, having been raised in households where magic was taught with the alphabet (English AND French if you were a Black), and Peter didn’t enjoy labor of any kind, so it felt as if Remus was alone in his love of learning. He also, however, enjoyed the competitive nature that James and Sirius brought to every lesson. It was just the same this morning.
“I bet you a galleon I can sliver this roast newt faster than you,” Sirius said to Remus from across the aisle during potions that morning.
“I’m sure you can,” Remus said with a laugh. “But can you do it neatly, too?”
“You’re on,” Sirius replied, immediately picking up his knife and beginning to cut.
Remus sliced up the newt in front of him as quickly as he could without removing a finger. On their first practical potions lesson, Sylvan Eichmann had lost an index finger from the knuckle up and though Madam Pomfrey had reattached it in a jiffy, the amount of blood on the work surface and floor had left the whole class wary of careless knifework.
Sirius had never had to help out in a kitchen before, and it showed. Remus, who’s mother had taught him to julienne carrots, grinned and showed his cutting board. On his other side, Lily Evans watched Remus in awe.
“Those look lovely, Remus!” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, actually, they look disgusting. But the cut is so clean!” She looked down at her own neatly sliced but slightly ragged newt.
“Did you know,” she began cheerily, peeling the stalk of her ragweed deftly with a smaller, sharper blade, “that the newts have to die of natural causes to be sold? Apparently it’s an ethics thing, but they’ve discovered that it actually makes the potion more potent? Sev told me.” She nodded, grinning, toward her friend. He was glowering at his own cauldron while another boy with fierce, angry eyebrows stirred it sloshingly. “He knows everything about potions. It’s so exciting to learn, isn’t it? I love potions, there’s so much room for growth and experimentation.” She grinned at him, so sincere that a small, bitter little part of him cringed. It appeared that he’d found a kindred spirit in learning. Mary was sitting next to Lily, rolling her eyes.
“Reeee-muusssss,” Sirius whined. “How did you do that so fa-aaassst?”
Remus smirked. “When you don’t have a house elf cutting up all your vegetables at home you become adept at the skill. Hand it over.” He held out an open palm expectantly.
Pouting, Sirius fished the money from his bag. “You’ll have to teach me.”
“Ask your house elf,” Remus replied, dumping the newt into the cauldron he shared with Peter. He’d been flipping through the diary that morning and saw something that really stuck out for some reason. Make sirius be nice to that damn house elf. Whatever that meant. His father had offered his mother a house elf once, and she’d leveled him with her best death stare and a, “What, so Remus can lack in household skills like you do, my love?”
Remus quietly shared this anecdote with Lily, who snorted. “Rich people are really something,” she said, and Mary nodded beside her. James overheard this and grinned.
“Rich people, eh?” he leaned over his cauldron until Sirius swatted him away from the dangerous fumes of the acid-yellow liquid.
“Yes, Potter. Rich people.” Lily said acerbically. In only a week, Lily seemed to have developed a strong distaste for James and Sirius. Something had happened on the train, Remus wasn’t sure what, but whatever it was was only escalated every time they spoke to one another. “Now go away. Big boys and girls are talking.”
Sirius roared with laughter, and Slughorn redirected him firmly back to his too-green potion. The lesson felt long, but that may have been Remus’s sagging eyelids or the fact that Peter vacillated between doing nothing and fretting over whether they were doing enough. Regardless, by the time they left for transfiguration Remus’s good mood was fragile. When they left the potions classroom, Severus Snape shattered it entirely.
The rush from the classroom was, as usual, a flood of jostling children, and Snape and Remus bumped shoulders in the doorway. Snape rammed Remus a second time, hard. “Clearly you used all your brain power to cheat off Lily’s potion today. Doors are single-file, moron,” he snapped.
“Sev!” Lily admonished, but they both ignored her.
“Shut up, Snape,” Remus grumbled. “Get a hobby besides staring at Evans, will you? It’s getting weird.” Snape went red, reaching for his wand, and Lily smacked his hand.
“Can we please be civil?” she demanded.
“Tell that to the uncivilized animals in your house, Lily. It’s not my fault Lupin here felt like he had to run from the classroom. It seems like maybe places of learning make his little brain hurt.”
“Have you considered that he was trying desperately to outrun your stench?” James asked Snape laughingly, and the other Gryffindor boys laughed with him, as did Mary and Marlene McKinnon beside her. “Wash your hair and brush your teeth before you talk to us, or about us. Let’s go, Remus.”
Lily was practically steaming, and Remus shot her an apologetic look, but she was clearly not in the mood. When they arrived at transfiguration, she sat as far from the boys as she could possibly manage, and at lunch time she ate on the other side of the prefects where Remus couldn’t even make eye contact with her. Ah well. So much for kindred spirits.