Halloween 1993
October passed in a similar fashion. Remus continued to focus on his lessons, pouring over library books, and scouring the grounds for interesting dark creatures that he could bring into the classroom, or take his classes out to observe. He had, however, started reading the newspaper and had signed up for a subscription to The Daily Prophet, which arrived each morning via owl at his window. He knew it wasn't healthy, getting up at the crack of dawn to comb through the columns in search of any tiny detail, any vague hint, but so far there had been nothing. Remus didn't know if he felt frustration or relief when he reached the very bottom of the back page each day. The dementors continued to waft around the outskirts of the grounds, a constant reminder of this supposed threat, but it seemed there had been no reportable developments in the case.
Severus had come through with the wolfsbane potion in September and so Remus had had no qualms about taking it again. He had woken on Halloween morning stiff and hungry, but had taken the pepper-up that Poppy had left on his classroom desk the evening before, gurned back at the grindylow that currently sat in a tank in the corner of his classroom, and gone down to breakfast early enough that he could get a couple of servings in before anyone else would notice. One of the side-effects of the potion seemed to be a strange feeling of unused energy in his limbs, Remus assumed a remnant of the wolf's desperate desire to run free. Running wasn't something he could do for pleasure really, years of joint damage had left him with terrible pain in his hips and knees, particularly the day after the full, but he decided he would try a gentle walk around the grounds to stretch his sore muscles.
Remus wandered back to his room for his coat and made his way out of the front doors. The sun was still making its way up slowly behind the mountains and there was a strong breeze blowing the last of the leaves off the trees. High above him, he could make out the ghostly shapes of the dementors, wafting creepily around the edge of the grounds. He shivered. Remus followed the main drive a little way, looking out towards the lake before deciding on a whim to go the other way - round past the Quidditch pitch. As he reached the stands he stood for a moment, at the corner between the yellow and green and looked up to the top of the red ones. Flags fluttered along the front edge, the golden lion standing proudly against the crimson background.
'Yes! He's got it! Throw it James! Look at him go! Seriously look at him... Remus are you watching any of this? No.. oh no! Ouch. Wow, that was nasty.'
'What was Pete? He's ok? He looks ok?'
'You'd know if you'd ever pay attention to the match. He's fine... It's Rosier I'm worried about now... Sirius won't let him get away with that...'
Remus was interrupted mid-thought by the sound of several students, clad in blue with broomsticks over their shoulders emerging from the changing rooms behind the stands.
'Oh, hello Professor!' Heather Stubbs, a fifth year, smiled broadly at him. She'd offered some great answers in their most recent lesson on sea serpents (not one Remus had brought a live specimen to). 'Thinking of doing some flying? Were you on a team at school?'
Remus laughed softly, 'No,' he said, 'no, flying wasn't my thing. But I did come to the matches of course. Just... Just looking around.' he gestured vaguely at the stands. 'Have a good practice.'
'You can stay and watch...' Heather began, but Remus had already turned to walk away.
He wandered a little further down the slope that led away from the pitch. The forest was looking particularly dark this morning, a mist rising from the chilly ground around the bases of the trees. He veered slightly left and suddenly found himself on a little rocky platform, looking down on an enormous tree, its swollen trunk breaking into gnarled limbs which were twisted into great fists, and its drooping yellowing leaves blowing in the autumn breeze. Standing well before the edge of the forest, it was stark against the landscape in the small valley below him, and he stood there, temporarily transfixed, listening to the rustle of the branches. That tree... How many nights had he spent..? Suddenly a flash of movement caught his eye. Was it a cat? It was something similar: ginger and very fluffy, running at great speed towards the tree. Remus almost cried out to warn it, when it suddenly veered off towards the forest. His eyes followed it as it plunged into the mist and for a split second, just as the tip of the cat's tail vanished, he thought he saw...
Suddenly he was running, as fast as he could down the slippery grass. He stumbled slightly on the uneven ground, his winter coat was flapping heavily around his legs. He slid down the last of the sloping ground and continued towards the forest, giving the tree as wide a berth as he could. He arrived at the edge of the forest, panting, peering through the haze. Nothing. He could see nothing - no sign of a cat, or anything else. He bent over, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. He was imagining things - he'd been doing it all morning. It was just the moon he told himself again. The moon and the memories. He straightened and looked once more through the trees.
'Sirius?' he whispered, in spite of himself.
'So,' said James, as he came round the dormitory door, a smug smile on his face. Remus looked up from the book he was reading and watched Sirius and Peter file in behind him.
'So?' Remus said, not moving from his position on his bed. It had only been a day since the last moon, and he was sore.
'We have a surprise for you.' said Peter, expression much the same as James'.
'No thanks,' said Remus, 'I don't go in much for surprises.' He shifted slightly on his pillows and looked back down at his book.
'This is a good one,' said Sirius, his voice full of excitement. Remus looked up again. Sirius was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, grinning, barely containing whatever it was they were about to announce.
'So,' James said again, 'we know you said you weren't interested when we brought this up before, but, hear us out...'
'Sound's ominous', Remus said, meaning it, but trying to sound casual.'
'Well...' said James, 'we looked into it and -'
James was cut off by a quiet pop on his left hand side. Sirius had vanished and in his place stood a big black dog. Remus sat up and stared at it.
'Well,' said James, with a slightly nervous laugh, 'I guess that's the cat out of the bag. Or the dog, more like.'
Remus watched, stunned, as Sirius reappeared, smiling so widely Remus thought his face might split itself in half. 'You didn't,' he said.
'We did.' said Peter.
'Wait. We? All of you?' Remus said, sliding off the bed and moving forwards, towards his friends, eyes wide.
'Yep' said James, and promptly turned into a stag.
'Well.' said Remus, mouth open in shock. 'Shit.'
There was no answer from the forest. Nothing moved - it was eerily still. Remus shook his head. As he turned back towards the castle, the sound of a stick cracking underfoot reached his ears. He didn't turn back.
*
Back in his room, Remus tapped the kettle and took off his shoes and socks which had been soaked by his scramble through the wet grass. He must have looked ridiculous - he hoped none of the Quidditch players up at the pitch had spotted him slipping and sliding down that blasted slope. What had he been thinking? He tossed his socks into the laundry basket and went into the bathroom. His hands were muddy - had he fallen? And he scrubbed them viciously in the basin and splashed water onto his face. Merlin, he was a mess. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, more grey than brown now and peered at himself in the mirror. When had he got so old? Glancing at the clock he realised half the morning had already gone and decided it was time he pulled himself together.
He put on a clean pair of socks, and gathered a stack of parchment from his desk to take through to his classroom. He looked once more at the newspaper he'd left there earlier, and then dropped it into the bin. Arms full, he levitated his mug of tea through the door, and followed, settling down at his teacher's desk to tackle some marking.
He was about three-quarters of the way through the fourth year's essays on vampires (some of them full of quite outlandish suggestions about how to combat them - garlic certainly wasn't going to do the job) when he looked up and saw the back of a messy dark head passing the doorway.
'Harry?' he said, without thinking.
Harry reappeared round the door frame.
'What are you doing? Where are Ron and Hermione?'
'Hogsmeade', said Harry, as if he was trying to sound indifferent.
'Ah', said Remus, wondering if that meant Harry hadn't been allowed to go - he wondered if they'd told him why. Suddenly quite curious to find out he continued, 'Why don’t you come in? I’ve just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson.’
‘A what?’ said Harry.
Harry wandered over to the large tank. The Grindylow scuttled to the front again and pressed its shrivelled face up against the glass and stuck out its tongue.
'He's a water demon,’ said Remus, ‘We shouldn’t have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle.’
Harry moved closer to examine the creature's fingers. The bravery was very James, Remus found himself thinking, but the curiosity was much more Lily. He shook his head, don't compare him, he told himself, he's just Harry.
'Cup of tea?' Remus said, suddenly feeling like the silence had stretched too long. ‘I was just thinking of making one.’ He retrieved the kettle from where he had left it in his kitchenette only a few minutes before and waved it at Harry.
‘All right,’ said Harry awkwardly.
Remus tapped the kettle and reached for his tin of tea bags. ‘Sit down,' he said gesturing at a classroom chair, ‘I’ve only got teabags, I’m afraid – but I daresay you’ve had enough tea leaves?’ He smiled at the look on Harry's face.
‘How did you know about that?’ Harry asked.
‘Professor McGonagall told me,’ said Remus, passing Harry a mug. ‘What was it she saw? A raven? A coffin?'
‘A dog’ said Harry, 'A big black one - it's a Grim apparently.'
Remus made an involuntary movement with his hand and knocked his mug, splashing some tea over the homework that was still on his desk.
'Whoops!' he said, laughing nervously and vanishing the spill with his wand.
'Oh not you too', Harry rolled his eyes. Remus felt his cheeks redden.
'No, no it's not that,' Remus said quickly, 'Honestly Harry, there is nothing to worry about. Divination is a famously imprecise...'
'Imprecise branch of magic. Yeah yeah, I know. You sound like Hermione.'
Remus surveyed him. He was looking over at the Grindylow again, a crease between his eyebrows. 'Anything worrying you Harry?' he asked.
‘No,’ Harry replied, still looking towards the tank. He took a sip of tea slowly and then abruptly turned back round and put his cup down on the desk. ‘Yes. You know that day we fought the Boggart?’
Remus nodded, an image of a full moon floating above him popped into his head... Surely not...
Harry went on, ‘Why didn’t you let me fight it?’
Remus was surprised. ‘I would have thought that was obvious, Harry,’ he said, silently kicking himself for risking sounding dismissive. Harry blinked, confused.
‘Why?’
‘Well,’ said Remus, slowly, ‘I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.’
Harry was staring at him, gawping slightly, speechless. Remus nearly laughed. Now this was a James face.
'Clearly, I was wrong?' he asked, ‘But I didn’t think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialise in the staff room. I imagined that people would panic.’
Harry paused, looking like himself again, choosing his words carefully. ‘I did think of Voldemort first, but then I – I remembered those Dementors.’
Remus paused. Of course, the dementors on the train. The horrible cold, the soul-sucking feeling. He wondered for a moment if Harry should be more afraid of Voldemort. He wondered if Sirius had been afraid of the dementors too... Harry shifted in his seat, expectant. Remus needed to say something.
‘I see,’ Remus said quickly, 'Well, well … I’m impressed... that suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry.’ Was it? He thought to himself. What was he talking about? 'So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?’
‘Well … yeah,’ said Harry, ‘Professor Lupin, on the train, you did something to repel the Dementors - the white thing that came out of your wand?’
'Ah, yes, the Patronus charm', said Remus. 'It is a tricky one but it is the only way to repel a Dementor. It works by channelling joy, to counteract the despair that they feed off.'
'Could you teach me?' asked Harry, face hopeful.
Remus hesitated, studying him. This boy in front of him, a perfect mix of his two best friends, looking at him like he had all the answers. While his face was so familiar, it was apparent that they didn't know each other at all. Aside from his appearance he wasn't really that much like either James or Lily, and clearly no one had ever mentioned Remus to Harry before. He had no idea that Remus had been the fourth person in the world to hold him. Oh, the ways things had turned out.
'Yes I expect so,' he said, slightly non-committal, 'It is a tricky piece of magic but we could certainly have a go. Another day though, I've got to get this work done before the feast, and I expect the others will be back from Hogsmeade now and looking for you!'
*
When Remus was eleven, he experienced a Hogwarts Halloween feast for the very first time. The full moon was due to fall two days later and by the night of the 31st he'd been tired, irritable and beside himself with anxiety about another transformation at school. The first two had been dreadful: they'd arranged a strange sort of shed for him to change in, protective magic keeping him in and a huge, fierce tree keeping others out. He'd been led down there both evenings by Professor McGonagall, who had looked at him with pity in her eyes and wished him luck. Poppy had collected him each morning and done her best with his scratched and bleeding body, and he'd lain in the hospital wing for the day, returning in the evening to the curious looks and hesitant questions of his roommates. That morning, Sirius had made a comment about Remus being due 'another one of his headaches' and it had wracked him with fear. Had he worked it out? Did he know? The worry, on top of the moon, had put him in a foul mood and he had decided to stay in his room that evening and sleep.
'Oh come on Lupin!' James had stuck his face through the curtains that Remus had drawn pointedly around his bed. 'Hogwarts Halloween is legendary! My dad says that one year...'
''My dad says, my dad says'', Sirius' face appeared through a gap on the other side. 'You know if his dad says it then it must be more than true.'
'Oh shut up you idiot! He hasn't been wrong yet, has he?'
Sirius rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at James. 'Look Remus, even if you're in a bad mood, I know you're still hungry, and the food is bound to be fantastic. I saw a house elf yesterday morning carrying a stack of pumpkins almost up to the ceiling. It must've been using magic to keep them balanced, it was incredible!'
'Even if he's not hungry, I am', Peter called, slightly muffled from outside the curtains. 'Are we going down or what?'
'Yes we're going!' James shouted back, head vanishing.
Sirius stayed where he was, 'Come on Remus, it will be fun, and if you don't like it you can always come back up early.' He said it quietly, so the others wouldn't hear, and he looked so earnest, Remus couldn't think of anything to do except put his shoes on and follow them all down the stairs.
James' dad, as it turned out, had been right again. The hall was lined with giant pumpkins, each carved with its own face and filled with flickering candlelight. Remus sank down onto a bench beside Sirius and looked up at the enchanted paper bats that were flapping back and forth across the starry ceiling. It was pretty magical, even by Hogwarts standards. The food was indeed fantastic, and Remus found himself, an hour later, full of roast chicken and potatoes, leaning sleepily on his hand and only half listening to James and Peter bickering about Halloween costumes from their childhood.
'See,' Sirius whispered suddenly, leaning over so Remus could hear him. 'Fun!'
'Yeah, fun.' Remus smiled but it turned into a yawn.
'Hey lads! Lads!' Sirius had to wave his hand in front of James' face to get their attention. 'As fascinating as this has been, we're going to head back. Remus looks like he's about to fall asleep at the table. See you back up upstairs when you've decided who carved the best pumpkin in 1978.'
It had been the first of many great Halloweens, and the first time Remus had realised that Sirius Black could be a real friend. Two nights later, the change had been very slightly less awful, and he'd been able to make it back to the dorm for late afternoon and fit in a game of gobstones before collapsing back into bed.
Remus thought of that first Halloween as he sat in the Great Hall, this time at the teachers table. The food was just as good as he remembered, and the decorations possibly even more resplendent. As he sat back in his chair, full of pumpkin pie, he could see Harry and his friends, tucking into the feast. Harry was smiling, all the fuss over Hogsmeade forgotten. Despite it all, he's alright, Remus thought to himself.