The Shade

      “Do you think you passed?” Peter asked Remus as the left the Great Hall. They had just wrapped up their last exam of the year, the practical for defense, and Remus was on top of the world.

     “Passed?” he snorted. “I demolished that exam.”

     Pete grimaced. “Glad someone did,” he said quietly.

     “I’m sure you’re fine.” James stretched and yawned. He had finished first, immediately putting his head down on the table and falling asleep. Snape had coughed something about entitlement, but what he didn’t know was that James had been awake until five that morning helping Peter study for their eight am history of magic written exam.

     “Yeah, Pete.” Sirius had also fallen asleep, but Remus had no idea why. He certainly hadn’t been studying last night, not for the classes where he had the highest marks in their year. “And even if you’re not, no use beating yourself up now.”

     “Cheers, mate,” Peter said grimly.

     There wasn’t much time left to worry about exams now, not with packing to do and a feast to eat and seemingly endless, mundane tasks to complete. Remus felt he was running himself more ragged returning lost library books and checking his professors’ lost and found boxes for his missing belongings than he had studying for exams in the first place. When the feast was over and it was finally time for bed, he thought he’d collapse.

     “Alright over there?” James asked from the foot of his own bed where he was tossing dirty socks into his trunk. “Not spending our last night in the hospital wing, are we?”

     Remus shook his head. “Just worn out.” He was right between moons just now, but last month’s had been tough, especially combined with his hayfever. He was probably recovered. Mostly. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling before digging around in the bedclothes for his pajamas.

     The following morning was a boisterous scramble punctuated by some dazzling explosions as James and Sirius scattered Marlin Majica’s Miniature Mini-Mortar fireworks throughout the common room, Great Hall, and even the Slytherin first year car on the train. Remus had to hide his delight when he saw Snape’s cloak smoking heavily behind him at breakfast, and even Lily cracked a smile when Mulciber attempted to stomp out a dazzling fire-flower and instead stomped on his own foot. By the time the four Marauders were settled into their own compartment, they were feeling very smug indeed.

     “We’ll have to write every day,” Sirius said earnestly. “Or we won’t be able to keep up planning for next year.”

     “Every day?” Peter was aghast. “Do you think I’m made of parchment?”

     “I’ll write when I feel like it,” Remus said lazily. “You’ll hear from me, or not.” Sirius kicked hiss shin, and he kicked back, missing on the first go and catching James in the ankle.

     “Once a week seems reasonable,” James said. “But no pressure Remus, we know you’re not the most literate.” Remus aimed another, more purposeful kick at James.

     “Do you have an owl at home, or do you use muggle post for everything?” Peter asked as they exchanged addresses.

     Remus rolled his eyes. “Of course we have an owl, my da works for the Ministry. What d’you think, he’s just shipping his work documents in through the postal service? Jumping in the floo the moment he has something to send off?”

     The other boys all stopped what they were doing to stare at him.

     “What?” Remus asked uncomfortably. “What’ve I done now?”

     “Your father works for the Ministry of Magic?” James asked.

     “Yes?” Remus paused, looking them all over. “Have I really never mentioned it?”

     “No!” Sirius said excitedly. “This changes everything!”

     “It really shouldn’t,” Remus replied flatly.

     “No, you don’t understand!” Sirius was ecstatic. “I don’t care about all that status nonsense, but my mother does. Maybe she’ll let me visit!”

     “You certainly can’t visit my family just now,” James said, making a face. “My father just testified before the Wizengamot that he was assaulted by your Great Uncle Arcturus during the Pure Blood Riots.”

     “Him and who else?” Sirius said dryly. “Old Arcturus would attack anything with a pulse if he felt the urge. Hope he gets the kiss for it.”

     “That’s horrible!” Peter squeaked, but Sirius just shrugged.

     “Welcome to the noble and moste ancient house of Black,” he said with a broad grin. “Kill or be killed.”

     It seemed only minutes before the train was slowing to a stop in London. The students flowed from the train joyously, calling out for parents and siblings in the jostling crowd. James wrapped Remus in a tight hug, to his surprise. “Take care of yourself,” he said warmly. “Don’t get too sick when we’re not around to take care of you.”

     “I’ll do my best?”

     Even Peter gave his arm a little pat. “Come visit when you can,” he said before following James to his parents on the other side of the platform.

     “There’s something on your shirt,” Sirius said, his fingers brushing Remus’s collar. Remus looked down, and Sirius flicked him in the nose, laughing.

     “Have you ever been told you’re insufferable?” Remus asked, rubbing his nose and laughing.

     “Constantly,” Sirius said. His face was like the sun, Remus thought, lit up like that.

     What poetic trash, thank God he can’t hear me.

     The sun faded as quickly as it appeared. A slim, white hand settled on Sirius’s shoulder, and his whole body stiffened. He turned away from Remus slowly, his expression flattening.

     “Mother,” Sirius said evenly.

     “Sirius,” she replied. She didn’t acknowledge Remus, and he was grateful. Even looking at her gave him a chill. “The negative reports home were negligible after Yule. We may save you yet.”

     “My friends are a positive influence, I believe,” Sirius said mildly, motioning to where the Potters were squeezing James and Peter in enormous bear hugs. Remus noticed that he was not acknowledged by Sirius, either. It stung, a bit. He scanned the crowd for his own parents, ready to make his exit.

     Behind him, Mrs Black was still addressing her eldest son. “The Pettigrew boy is a bastard, is he not? Better to have killed her himself than to have impregnated her then died before they were wed. I’m sure she agrees.”

     Sirius said nothing, and Remus’s stomach turned.

     “You may visit the Potter and Pettigrew families on occasion, so long as you don’t return with any of their... peculiarities.” Her revulsion was clear. Whatever peculiarities the Potters had, they were disgusting, immoral. As Remus fought the heated urge to say something, anything, he spotted his own mother standing near the sign for the platform. With only a fleeting look back at Sirius, he escaped.