The Knife
And look they did. As James was busy with the house-elves and giving Lily flying lessons, and Remus was busy trying to do everyone’s homework, most of the looking was done by Sirius and Poppy.
“Any luck?” Poppy asked, meeting up with Sirius on the grand staircase.
“None, but someone stole the Fat Friar’s lunch, so let him know if you see anyone with a baguette,” he said. Poppy laughed. “Ask Damara Dodderidge.” Anne Boleyn muttered resentfully. Sirius looked down and saw that the portrait of the plump regal-looking woman, who was wearing a richly adorned gown that reflected her status and importance, had in fact just taken a bite of the crust of bread. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to hide the bread behind her back as Sirius, Poppy, and all the portraits turned their eyes on her accusingly, but she couldn’t conceal her full cheeks and she swallowed guiltily.
“For shame, Damara!” The portrait of Merlin cried. He had a flowing beard much like Dumbledore, except it was white instead of silver, and wore sky-blue robes and a pointed wizard's hat. “Stealing from a holy man,” he said, shaking his head in disgust, his long white beard swaying from side to side.
“Oh, lay off her!” Protested Circe, a stunningly pretty witch who wore a flowing elegant dress made of the finest silks. She was inspecting her reflection in a silver hand mirror and her wrists were covered in golden bangles.
“We all know that the holy man can afford to skip a few meals,” she said. The portrait of Anne Boleyn gasped, raising a hand to her mouth.
“How dare you!” Merlin bellowed.
Poppy kept making her way up the stairs looking amused, and Sirius rolled his eyes as he hurried down the steps while Poppy went up. Each probably headed to check the very same portraits the other had just searched. Sirius had lost hope of actually finding Helga. Still, he kept looking because he wanted to be doing something. The longer he spent with his friends, the more he realized how wrong his family was. There were so many things Sirius thought were normal that would horrify James and Poppy. Though they were both pure-blood wizards, they put no value on blood status. It really didn’t matter to them; they didn’t hate Muggles either. It was weird but right. Sirius was so much happier at Hogwarts, happier than he’d ever been at home, but the family he’d always thought of as respectable, who had always given him a place, was now a source of shame. He was no longer proud to be a Black. His friends never purposefully made him feel bad about his family, but the other day James had made fun of Alfie in Transfiguration for confirming with Remus that only one of his parents was their kind and the other was a Muggle. James, who normally got along with Alfie, gave him such a cold glare and stated that both Remus’s parents were human, and that if he was looking for someone else his kind, James was sure that someone in the school likely had a pet toad that would appreciate a visit from family. Alfie had looked embarrassed, and Sirius had laughed while secretly hoping that James never found out that there was an entire wall in his house decorated with the heads of decapitated house-elves. Sirius felt the need to prove to himself that he was different from his family. So he kept looking for elusive Helga, even though he was confident he would never find her.
“Hey!” An all too familiar voice rang out, echoing through the empty corridor. Sirius looked away from the portraits on the walls down the steps and saw Regulus coming up the staircase. This was the first time they’d been alone together since Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, and he felt an odd panic. Regulus smiled casually, as if pretending nothing was wrong would make all he had done magically go away.
“I was just looking for you! Mum wants to know what you want for Christmas,” he said, still smiling. Sirius knew his mother, and she wanted a lot more than to know what he wanted for Christmas. Or she could have just written to him herself. She was probably furious, but she wouldn’t show it. She wouldn’t scream or yell; she would use different tactics to get him back in her power, and this was the first, and Regulus was only the puppet. Playing the role of the supportive and caring older brother who was heartbroken to be ignored but continued to reach out even though he didn’t understand the reason for his brother's rebellion. Sirius glared at him, and Regulus’s smile finally broke. Good. Sirius was done playing this game. Maybe Regulus would finally realize that this wasn’t a phase. Things would never go back to how they were. Sirius wasn’t just mad at Regulus. He hated him and never wanted to be anything like him. Sirius quickened his pace and passed Regulus wordlessly. “What did I ever do to you?” Regulus shouted after him. Sirius spun around, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he had made his brother angry enough to drop the act. He was shouting. Perfect Regulus wasn’t always so perfect after all. He never had been, and he had not always tried to pretend. There had been a time when Regulus would shout before he’d become the favorite. When he would sometimes resist their parents. When they had been friends, but something had changed when he went off to school. He stopped being Regulus and had turned into a puppet. Worse than a puppet, the perfect model child. He had stopped being his brother and made every breath, every moment a competition. He never disagreed with their parents anymore. Never shouted, never did anything other than exactly what he was told, and the more he tried, the more pressure he made for Sirius.
“Follow your brother,” his mother always said. She had set impossible expectations so that no matter how hard Sirius tried, he was always a disappointment because he couldn’t be Regulus.
“You know what you did,” he said dully. It was the first words he’d spoken to his brother since arriving at school. He watched the muscle in Regulus’s jaw tighten, but he didn’t respond, and Sirius could tell from the look in his eyes that he did know. He knew exactly what he had done and why Sirius hated him. Sirius turned back around and ran down the rest of the steps without looking back.
Sirius glanced at the mark on Poppy’s paper as Professor Culpepper placed it on her wooden desk. Sirius grinned triumphantly when he saw an O written in black ink with the professor’s quill in the top right corner. Sirius had continued writing papers for Poppy, and she had let him because Poppy already knew how to write a paper and needed the extra time to practice her wandwork. Still, it was a little embarrassing that her highest grades were really Sirius’s work. She looked over at his paper and then immediately felt guilty when she saw the A in the top right corner. How had he only gotten an Acceptable? Had Sirius spent so much time working on her paper that he had not had time to make his own good? Poppy had received an Outstanding on every assignment and had never questioned it, never felt bad about letting him write it for her. If it was Remus, she would have checked. He was the kind who would put someone else’s homework before his own, but Sirius? “An A?” Poppy mouthed, horrified. “You’re not writing my papers anymore,” she whispered. Sirius shook his head.
“That’s not the problem. Culpepper just hates me,” he whispered back, but Professor Culpepper spoke before Poppy could ask more.
“Who knows what the werewolf code of conduct is?” he asked the class, turning to face them after finishing writing on the blackboard. In front of them, Remus froze; he was the only other student who seemed to notice something was wrong, as most everyone else was raising their hands casually, as if the topic wasn’t terrible. Professor Culpepper gestured at one of the students sitting in the front row.
“Oliver, can you explain to the class what it is?” Oliver looked a little nervous. Professor Culpepper always tried to call on the students who didn’t often speak up in class.
“Isn’t it something werewolves are supposed to sign that they won’t hurt people?” he asked.
“Very good,” Professor Culpepper said, nodding his head approvingly. “The werewolf code of conduct is a document werewolves are required to sign agreeing not to attack others and to be properly contained during the full moon. It was developed by the Ministry of Magic in sixteen thirty-seven and enables the Ministry to keep track of werewolves and make sure they have taken necessary precautions for their own protection and the safety of others.” Poppy couldn’t believe it. The way he said it, agreeing not to attack others, like it was in their power, like they were in control and could agree to such terms. When everyone knew that werewolves were not in control of themselves during the full moon. Poppy thought of the stories, pictures of children, some of them as young as five years old, who had died in their family houses all because of the act. Poppy hated speaking up in class, but she couldn’t just let him drone on about the act like it was completely rational and justifiable. She raised her hand in the air.
“Miss Abbington?” Professor Cullpepper said, looking surprised.
“Do you know how many kids have died because of the werewolf code of conduct?” she asked, the anger rising in her voice. Sirius made a choking noise, then turned back to look at her and gave one firm shake of his head, warning her to stop talking.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Professor Cullpepper said, sounding confused.
“Five this year,” Poppy said, ignoring Sirius as he groaned and set his head on his desk.
“I’m not sure where you got that number from,” Professor Cullpepper said, still seeming confused.
“Five of those eight died of treatable injuries and could have been saved if their parents had taken them to Saint Mungo's instead of trying to treat them at home because they were afraid of the act,” Poppy stated.
To his credit, Professor Cullpepper nodded, looking saddened. “I think those deaths are a tragic result of a misconception on the parents’ part. The act does not harm werewolves; it was designed for their protection.”
Was he really placing the blame on the parents for the children’s death? It seemed so horrible, when they were only trying to protect them. What parents would want their kids registered as monsters? Knowing that taking them to the hospital would ruin their future as surely as death. Of course they tried to treat it at home, anyone would.
“It does harm them. It requires them to make their medical information public, available to neighbors, employers, and schools. The few werewolves who have signed the act have suffered incredible discrimination and are forced out of the wizarding community and have to live among Muggles because they are unable to find employment or housing, and those who don’t sign are labeled criminals and don’t have access to the support they need because they are afraid of being discovered. The ministry records are available to everyone. Anyone can access the registry and have access to their personal information. Their names, their location, and diagnosis. So, even those who live among Muggles are targeted by the magical community. It’s a violation of human rights!” she fumed.
“But they aren’t human,” Sirius muttered. Poppy glared at him. Professor Cullpepper, however, didn’t look upset.
“I have to continue the lesson so everyone will be prepared for their exams, but I would be happy to discuss this matter with you further after class if that is alright?”
Poppy nodded. She didn’t care to discuss it after class. Professor Cullpepper could think what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to change her mind, but Poppy just couldn’t let him talk about werewolves like they were monsters, not when she thought of all the children who had died. But when class was over, Sirius turned to face her, looking annoyed.
“Do you not read your papers?”
She’d read the first one; the rest she just scanned. Poppy didn’t really care what they said when they consistently got an Outstanding. Sirius could clearly see the answer in her expression.
“Of course,” he grumbled. “Well, you mentioned the werewolf code of conduct in our paper about understanding the connection between magical creatures and dark magic, and now Cullpepper’s going to know you didn’t write it,” he whispered, gathering his stuff and following the rest of the class out.
Poppy walked slowly to Cullpepper’s desk. She wasn’t sure what happened when you got caught cheating. He waited until Peter Pettigrew had finished cleaning up the ink he had spilled from tripping over the hem of his too-long trousers and had finally exited the room before he spoke.
“Would you like to discuss the matter further?” he asked. Poppy shook her head.
“Then is it alright if I discuss something with you?” Poppy watched him pull out her old assignment and flip to the second page. “Necessary ministry inventions, such as the werewolf code of conduct, can help reduce the danger of dark magical creatures,” he read out, then waited for her to say something.
Poppy knew she should have said sorry, should have tried to explain, but she was just too shocked by her bad luck. It was one line, one stupid line. Professor Cullpepper marked thousands of papers.
“How on earth did you remember that?” she asked indignantly.
Professor Cullpepper laughed aloud, surprised by her response. “Because I thought it distinctly odd. Your mother had always protested against the code in her life, to see her daughter write in its favor. So then I started paying attention and realized that you have not written a single paper in my class. Have you, Miss Abbington?”
Poppy shook her head; it wasn’t a question.
“I have seen you practicing your wandwork. I know it is difficult for you, so I’m willing to come to an arrangement. I will allow you and Mr. Black to work together. You may submit one paper, and the grade will count for both of you. However, I need you both to write it and agree with it, and both sign your names at the top. And if you can agree to do that, I will leave your grades as they are. Does that work for you?”
Poppy nodded, hardly daring to believe her luck.
“Yes, thank you, Sir!”
“Of course,” Professor Cullpepper smiled.
Remus knew he should have been grateful to Poppy, but gratitude wasn’t what he felt. As he watched his friends' faces when Professor Cullpepper explained that most werewolves preferred to keep their condition secret, and he listened to his friends discuss the lesson while they walked through the corridor.
“We could know a werewolf, and we just don’t know. It could be anyone, really!” James said, sounding half afraid, half excited.
“Not anyone,” Poppy said, sounding annoyed. “There are signs. Regular absences during the full moon, unexplained injuries, enhanced strength.”
“Stephen Eggington!” James shouted, naming the Beater for Puddlemere United.
Poppy rolled her eyes. James laughed, then saw the look on Remus’s face.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked. Remus nodded.
“Don’t worry,” Sirius said, misinterpreting the cause of his distress. “Davey doesn’t know what he’s talking about. There aren’t any werewolves in the forest. Dumbledore would never let one anywhere near the castle.” He tried to reassure him.
Davey Gudgeon had talked so insistently about spotting a werewolf through the trees of the Forbidden Forest that he had made Sophie Bell start crying with frightened tears.
“How can you say that?” Poppy asked. “Werewolves are just like other people most of the time.”
Sirius shook his head. “They're not. Being bitten changes them. Have you ever heard of a good werewolf? They're all criminals. Almost all the known werewolves are locked up in Azkaban,” he said.
“That’s because of prejudice! They have to steal because no one will give them a job. Or people attack them and they act in self-defense, and the ministry thinks they're to blame just because they’re werewolves,” Poppy argued.
Sirius rolled his eyes. James froze, looking stunned, and Remus was certain for a moment that he’d figured it out. He’d realized Remus was always gone during the full moon and remembered the unexplained cuts on his face.
“It’s a werewolf,” he whispered.
“What?” Lily asked.
“Slytherin's monster,” he said, looking stunned. “It’s a werewolf. Think about it! Those shrieks coming from the shack; the villagers have only heard them twice, a month apart. I bet it was during the full moon.”
Sirius nodded, eyes wide. “And remember how Cullpepper said they can taste the difference between wizard and Muggle blood? That’s how it would be able to target Muggle-borns!” he said.
“I don’t think so,” Poppy said, “because there have been cases of Muggle-born werewolves, and most Muggles who are bitten die. So their blood probably tastes the same as other wizards.”
“Still, though, a werewolf would be smart enough,” Sirius said. James nodded, looking solemn. “So the question is, how do you kill a werewolf?”
Remus felt his blood run cold. He didn’t know how he’d ever been able to kid himself that he belonged at Hogwarts. He didn’t belong anywhere. He had always thought that the attacks on his house were from the neighbors. That whatever village his family had moved to didn’t like them because they had heard his shrieks and been frightened. He’d thought maybe one day, if he learned to control it, he would find a place where he belonged. He’d be able to hide it, but not according to Poppy. He now realized that people would seek him out wherever he went. He would always be an outcast and never be able to hide because his name was on the registry. As a ministry employee, his father was a firm believer in the werewolf code of conduct. He had got him to sign when he was five years old, when he’d first been bitten, and now he would never be free. Because anyone could check the registry. Poppy had told them they could, and Remus knew it wouldn’t be long until a Hogwarts student was curious enough to check and found his name.
“Where are you going?” James called after him from the steps when Remus turned the corner on the second floor.
“It’s one more floor, mate,” Sirius said, looking amused, but Remus wasn’t heading to Charms.
“I have to talk to Professor Dumbledore,” he said.
His friends all shared nervous glances with each other. “We’ll save you a seat,” Lily promised, giving him a sad smile.
“Thanks,” Remus said numbly. He wasn’t sure what they thought, but he didn’t really care. He would never see them again. He turned away and felt the tears start to pool in his eyes. He hated it, hated that he was always a problem, always the danger. He was so tired of being a monster.
Remus's seat remained empty during Flitwick's class. They all looked back every time they heard a sound to see if he was at the door, but it was always just someone bumping their stone objects against the desk. They were turning objects into stone, and Flitwick had given them all clay to practice on. Poppy finished the hat of the gnome she had been working on. "Dura," she said, waving her wand. It had no effect. "Dura!" she said again, frustrated. "Ugh, I did it before," she complained.
James had walked over to their table and crouched in between them. "It’s your wand. You're flicking it too far back. It’s straight, and then only halfway back," he demonstrated with his own wand.
Poppy tried “Dura.” The gnome remained moldable clay. James shrugged, “weird. Sorry, I thought that would work.” Poppy groaned and laid her head on the table in frustration. James set a tiny stone flower in front of each of them. Lily grabbed hers excitedly; it was a Lily, and she was impressed by how much detail he’d managed to add to the tiny flower.
“James! This is so good!” She gushed.
“Gorgeous,” Poppy agreed numbly. He’d made her a Poppy, and it was just as beautiful. “Thanks!” James grinned, then moved to go back to his chair.
“Hold up,” Lily said. She grabbed the smooth ball she’d turned into stone to practice on and held it up for him to see. “I also made you something; it’s a Snitch,” she said. He laughed, “thanks.”
“You're welcome,” she said solemnly, setting it in his hand. “It was a lot of work, so do try not to lose it.” He smiled, rolled his eyes, and she laughed. Still, he pocketed the stone ball before going back to his seat. Lily looked at the flower; it was very pretty. She wanted to try to make one but she had already run out of clay, so she flipped through her charms textbook instead. Her eyes landed on a charm, "Obliteramem," false memory: a memory altering charm. The wand must have direct contact with the subject. Advanced. Lily felt a chill. She didn’t know memories could be altered. Was it possible someone had altered hers? She was still debating whether or not she should tell her friends that it had been Regulus talking about the Chamber of Secrets, that he was likely the heir of Slytherin. It just didn’t feel right to betray him, but maybe he was messing with her head, and that’s why she trusted him. Lily had thought at first that magic fixed a lot of problems, but she was slowly realizing that it also made a lot more.
“Pack up your things,” Professor Flitwick said, clapping his hands together. Lily slipped her coursebook in the purple bag Poppy had given her along with James’s Lily and tossed her own stone creations in the bin as she walked out.
“I hope Remus is okay,” she said to her friends.
“Yeah,” James said.
Sirius nodded, “He’ll probably be back in the common room.” When they walked in, however, the only person there was Arthur Weasley.
“What happened to Remus?” he asked when they walked in. He looked grave.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“Why’d he go home?” he asked.
“Probably to visit his mom again,” Sirius said.
Arthur Weasley shook his head. “No, he left the school. Took all his stuff with him. He’s not coming back.”
“What!” They all shouted.
“Why?” James asked.
Arthur shrugged, also looking sad. “I thought you guys might know.”
They all looked at each other, but everyone was equally shocked. Lily felt awful. She had noticed Remus had seemed off after Defense Against the Dark Arts but hadn’t realized it was so serious. Why had he gone? Had he got bad news about his mom, but if so, why hadn’t he told them or said goodbye?
“I’m going to go send him an owl,” James said, looking worried.
“I’ll come,” Sirius said, and they both hurried out of the portrait hole. Troubled, Lily and Poppy headed up to their dormitory. Lily dropped her bag on her bed and noticed an envelope on her pillow labeled R.A.B. She noticed it was heavy when she lifted it and pocketed it quickly before Poppy saw. They changed into their flying robes and met up with James and Sirius in the common room.
“I sent Nimbus with a letter; hopefully, we’ll hear back soon,” James said. Then spotted a letter on the common room table. Letters only came to the common room if they were from within the school, like from a teacher or a student or the library. It was addressed to Remus Lupin and it was unopened. James ripped it open without a second thought. His eyes scanned the writing quickly, and he looked up. “I think we should skip flying lessons,” he said and turned the letter around for them to see. It was written in Madam Pince’s hard-to-read thin cursive: “your requested books are now available.” They all agreed and hurried to the library without even changing out of their flying robes.
“We’re here for the Hufflepuff books,” Poppy gasped when they got to the counter. Madam Pince looked up at them suspiciously and then nodded at two large stacks of books piled on her desk.
“Those?” she asked.
“Yes,” James said and reached to take them.
“They’re reserved,” she said, setting her hand on the pile so he couldn’t take it.
“By me!” Poppy exclaimed.
Madam Pince looked through her specks at a list on her desk. “By Remus Lupin,” she said.
“But he’s left the school!” Sirius argued.
“There is a two-week period in which books are held for those who reserved them. You are welcome to make another reservation,” she said, pulling out her quill.
"What’s your name?" James looked stunned, but then his eyes narrowed mischievously. "You don’t know my name?" He confirmed.
"Should I?" she asked, giving him a scathing look.
"Nope!" he said, grabbing the nearest stack and running for the door. Madam Pince stared open-mouthed after him, too stunned to react. Lily and Sirius looked at each other for a moment and then followed suit, grabbing the two remaining stacks and running for the door. Lily heard what she hoped was Poppy’s steps thumping after her. Her heart was beating fast, propelling her forward, and only when she was safely in the hallway did she dare to look back. It was Poppy still; they kept running all the way back to the portrait of the fat lady.
“Hairy heart!” James panted and she swung open. They all ran inside and dropped the books unceremoniously on the floor. Poppy came in last, gasping for air and holding the few books they had dropped while running, and set them much more neatly on the floor. “A little warning next time!” She complained.
“Sorry,” James grinned, kneeling down beside her. “But it worked, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did!” Sirius cheered, opening Hogwarts a History. Poppy still looked annoyed but picked up a book titled Hufflepuff a House and a Calling. James had already started reading the book Lily had been interested in titled Hufflepuff's Hidden Treasures: Exploring Helga's World. So Lily perused a thin one called "The Flavorful Legacy: Helga Hufflepuff's Timeless Recipes". The first page had a picture of a decadent-looking cream and berry-covered chocolate cake, Helga's Enchanted Chocolate Trifle.
Ingredients:
- 1 chocolate sponge cake, cut into cubes
- 1 cup chocolate custard
- 1 cup whipped cream
- 1 cup enchanted berries
- 1/4 cup chocolate shavings
- Edible gold flakes (for garnish)
- Magical chocolate sauce (optional page 17)
Instructions:
1. Prepare the chocolate sponge cake according to your favorite recipe (see page 6 and 8). Allow it to cool completely, then cut it into small cubes.
2. In a trifle dish or individual serving glasses, start layering the trifle. Begin with a layer of chocolate sponge cake cubes, covering the bottom of the dish.
3. Pour a layer of chocolate custard over the cake cubes, ensuring it covers them evenly. The custard will add a rich and creamy texture to the trifle.
It was immediately obvious to Lily that she was not going to find any mention of a magical knife still she kept looking. There was Helga’s secret garden tart, Helga's green Apple Crumble. She was about to show Poppy Helga’s golden apricot Battenberg when James called out, “Found it!” They all looked up at him. “Page 248, Helga had a magic knife which she used mainly for cutting bars or picking locks to free enslaved house-elves. She bought many house-elves to Hogwarts in the course of her lifetime, with the result that Hogwarts still has the largest number of house-elves of any settlement in Britain,” he read.
“She stole other people's house-elves?” Sirius asked, seeming confused. “But that doesn’t make sense. They needed to be set free or they just come back. House Elves can’t be stolen.”
Poppy bit her lip. “Maybe back then they could, or why put them in cages?” James looked troubled.
“Does it say anything else about the knife?” Lily asked, but James didn’t get the chance to respond as in that moment, the portrait hole swung open and Molly and Gideon Prewett walked in. Gideon must have been hit by a Bludger in flying lesson as the front of his robes were covered in blood. Molly had a blood-soaked handkerchief clenched around his nose. “Why aren’t you in class?” Molly demanded, placing Gideon's hand on his own nose and glaring at them.
They quickly scampered to collect the books. Molly waved her hand for them to stop. “I’ll clean it up. Just get to class!” she urged. “And you,” she said, pointing at Gideon who was white-faced and starting to look a little faint. “Sit down and stay there while I go find Madam Pomfrey.”
…
Remus looked at his old bed. Exactly as he had left it, it felt like Hogwarts had been only a dream, and he had just woken up. Except the headmaster was standing in his room, much like he had been so many months ago when he picked him up. Dumbledore set his luggage on the floor with a resounding thud. Remus knew he was disappointed that he had not wanted to bring Remus back almost as badly as Remus had not wanted to come back, but he had honored his promise.
The headmaster gave a heavy sigh, “Well, Remus John Lupin, this is where I leave you,” he said, sadly surveying the room. “Remember my door is still always open, should you ever need me. You know how to use the Floo Network to get back to Hogwarts?”
Remus nodded. “That’s good,” Dumbledore said, placing a hand on his shoulder and staring into his eyes. He searched them the way he always did, and Remus waited. Waited for him to try to convince him to go back to Hogwarts one final time, with some amazing story that was going to change his mind or some magical solution, but he didn’t because Dumbledore knew just as well as Remus did that there was no cure to this problem. Giving his shoulder one final squeeze, Dumbledore straightened and walked out the door.
Remus didn't follow after him but heard the roar of the flames that meant he was gone. He dropped his rucksack on the ground and flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Tired of feeling sorry for himself. His parents weren’t home yet. They were going to be worried. They would pretend to be happy to have him back, but he would see the worry behind their eyes, and he couldn’t blame them with the trouble he caused. No, his coming home was going to add a huge amount of worry and difficulty back into their lives.
He thought of his dog who had always been happy to see him, how he would have wagged his tail and jumped on his bed, and then of his friends, how they were always happy to see him when he came back after the full moon. He felt a hot tear run down his cheek. It had been so nice to not be a problem, to remember what it was like to just be a normal kid, but none of it had been real. His friends had never known what he truly was, Remus had been living a lie at Hogwarts, and that was why he had loved it. He didn’t belong with other students, but he didn’t belong in this room either, or even in a cage because he was both a boy and a monster the world had no place for him.
A loud tapping noise at his window startled him out of his thoughts. He sat upright and recognized the brown wings and beady black eyes of Nimbus, James’s owl. He had a letter clamped in his beak. Remus hurried to open the window and eagerly took the letter from the bird. He ripped it open and smiled when he recognized James’s untidy handwriting, “Are you okay? Is your mom okay? What happened? When are you coming back? Write us back, quick, I already paid the owl for your letter.”
Remus wiped tears from his eyes, but they were happy tears. He couldn’t write back, couldn’t explain why he left, but he was so grateful for the letter. It meant so much to him that his friends missed him, that they wanted him to come back. The owl sat watching him, waiting for his letter, and Remus had to shoo it out the window. He closed the latch, pulling it tight, then sat back on his bed with the letter in his hand, somehow feeling much less alone than he had moments before.
Lily slipped into a bathroom, and Poppy ran after her. No student was allowed to wander the corridors alone, and she wasn’t about to let her out of her sight. Lily slipped into one of the stalls and locked it closed, then flushed the toilet to cover up the sound of ripping paper as she tore Regulus’s letter open. Though she had already guessed from the weight and the shape what it was. Sure enough, a small wooden penknife dropped into her hand. She switched it open, revealing the smooth silver blade; it was small and entirely unremarkable.
She lifted the small folded paper out of the envelope. “Keep it safe.” Was this really Hufflepuff's knife, or was it some kind of trick? Regulus could have seen in her mind that she knew what he was doing. Was this some trick? An ordinary knife he was using to trick her into trusting him again? Was she foolish enough for it to work?
Lily snapped the knife shut and pocketed it. She opened the stall door and found Poppy messing with her creamy white hair. The toffees came in all sorts of colors, but Poppy generally stuck to the more natural ones. Her favorite was the blonde, and she’d bought so much of it and kept a supply in her book bag. They wore off every two hours, so the only time Lily saw Poppy with brown hair now was when she was sleeping. Lily turned the handle of the knob, shaped like the paw of a badger, and lathered the soap in her hands. She dried her hands on the hanging blue and yellow towel and followed Poppy out the door for the Great Hall.
The house-elves had made Shepherd's pie for lunch. The bite felt heavy in Lily's mouth as she chewed. Somehow the magic felt gone. Remus was gone, she was lying to her friends, helping them waste their time desperately searching for a knife she was possibly carrying around in her pocket. This place, with its enchanted ceiling and magical dishes, had somehow lost its charm and wonder, replaced by heavy guilt and ever-present fear. Fear of being discovered, fear of being murdered. Lily scanned the staff table and watched Dumbledore. He didn’t look happy either. He was moving his food around on his plate with his fork, never lifting it to his mouth. He took a sip of his water and then, scanning the hall, met her eyes. Eye contact. Lily made her decision in a moment, knowing that was all she had, and dove in.
Albus thought of Lyall when he was a schoolboy; he had looked much like his son but had always been a little too sure of his opinions, unswayed, his convictions never bending. It had gotten him far in his career, always so certain in a field Albus believed to be ethically ambiguous, but he had had his awakening. Still, people didn’t change who they were. He could see how the father's beliefs had damaged his son. No, if Albus had to choose someone to raise a child with lycanthropy, he would not have picked Lyall. However much it may have forced him to reconsider and expand his understanding. It had caused too much pain for the boy. Hogwarts had been good for him. Remus had been happy. Albus had thought that maybe he would begin to see himself differently, but he had decided to leave. As much as Albus believed that decision was wrong, it was not his to make, and he couldn’t force Remus to reconsider. But he would go back next year and invite him again, perhaps talk with Lyall and Hope.
He noticed that Remus’s redheaded friend was still staring at him; it almost seemed like she was... The world turned in on itself, and Lily was trapped again in the come-and-go room, banging on the doorless walls, crying soundlessly, studying Legilimency by wandlight, passing by Regulus in the hallway holding the knife in her hands, and then sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring into those piercing blue eyes. The headmaster raised his silver eyebrows at her. He didn’t seem particularly shocked or horrified by anything he had seen in her mind. No, Dumbledore only smiled, seeming impressed, and then raised his glass as if in a toast to her, and resumed scanning the hall.