Year One: Potions

Peter hurried toward Remus in the entrance hall. He’d sat next to Remus in every class they had so far, but Remus hadn’t talked to him beyond what was necessary.

“Where were you?” he asked, handing Remus a chocolate muffin.

“Professor wanted to nitpick at why I was late,” he said, taking a bite.

Peter handed him a second muffin. “Why only you?”

“Dunno,” Remus said.

“It must be nice to come from the ‘Sacred Twenty-eight’,” he said, his eyes big.

Remus swallowed, prying the wrapper from the second muffin. “The what?”

“The purest of the pure,” he said. “Families with no Muggle blood.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Think of all the connections,” Peter said. They stepped into the courtyard. “Professors are much nicer. You have an easier time finding a job after school, and they have these ancient mansions. My mother comes from a family like that.” Remus nodded. “I’m sure Bracegiddle wouldn’t have given you such a hard time if you’d been one of them.”

“Bracegirdle,” Remus corrected.

“What?”

“Her name.”

Now that he’d had some chocolate, Remus felt much better. James and Sirius lounged between two pillars in the courtyard. A warm breeze rustled a few leaves on the cobblestone as the sun appeared from behind a wisp of clouds.

Students enjoyed the last summer weather, standing in small groups around the courtyard. Remus hid himself away in an alcove, fidgeting with his hands. The constant chatter gave him a headache. Peter leaned awkwardly against the wall, mumbling about how he struggled with the transfiguration homework due the next day.

When the next bell rang, the Gryffindors trudged down into the dungeons. They were not in the least delighted to see that the Slytherins would join them in their potions class, who were already huddled by the door. It was cold down here, and Remus found it hard not to fall asleep.

The dungeon door opened, and as they filed into the room, the professor’s walrus moustache curved above his beaming mouth. James and Sirius dashed to a table in the back, Peter following close behind. Remus settled beside him, a large black cauldron in front of them. There were yet two empty stations at their table.

Lily joined them, sitting as far from James as possible, and with her came the black-haired boy from the train. He plopped down in the chair next to Remus, looking bored. Two more Gryffindor girls sat between Lily and James, watching Snape from the corner of their eyes.

“Settle down, settle down. Alright, class,” the professor said. He lifted his register, going through the names, commenting, and asking questions to the class.

“Black, Sirius,” he looked around the classroom excitedly. “Aha, there you are! Quite surprised at the sorting, m’boy, quite surprised! I’ve had every one of the Blacks in my house! What a shame, m’boy, what a shame.”

Sirius groaned. “Ignore him,” James whispered. Sirius still looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him. “Slughorn likes to talk,” James continued. “Wouldn’t stop boasting about his Slug Club.”

“Ahh—James Potter, what a pleasure, m’boy! Tell me, how are your parents? It has been too long, far too long.”

Slughorn didn’t wait for an answer, squealing excitedly. His row call had taken almost twenty minutes. The remainder of the lesson was dedicated to brewing a potion to cure boils. In pairs, they searched the jars lining the dungeon’s walls for the right ingredients.

They weighed dried nettles and crushed snake fangs, and Remus just looked up what to do after stewing the horned slugs when a loud hissing came from his cauldron, acid green smoke rising. Peter had somehow melted their cauldron into a twisted blob, and the potion was seeping across the desk, disfiguring their scales and burning books.

Snape next to them snickered, his face twisting into a grin.

“Whatcha laughing at?” Remus hissed, pulling Peter back by the hood of his cloak.

“Idiot,” Snape murmured.

Remus felt his blood boiling, and he very much wanted to punch Snape. Remus fisted Peter’s robes tighter, feeling his knuckles strain. “Your life must be very dull if this is the highlight of your day.”

Remus’s vision swam. Most people had clambered onto their chairs to avoid stepping into the ruined potion, but Snape stepped forward ever so slightly, pointing his wand at Remus.

Remus let go of Peter and straightened. Slughorn hobbled over, vanishing the potion with one wave of his wand.

“Well, well,” he said with a rueful smile, examining the damage to the desk. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before you took the cauldron off the fire?”

Peter nodded, shaking his face white as a sheet, except for the nervous patches of red that crept up his neck. He looked as if he was going to cry every moment.

Slughorn waved around to disperse the smoke. “Well, no good for you to start over. Why don’t the two of you split up? Mr Pettigrew, you join Mr Potter.” He gestured vaguely at Remus. “You can join Mr Snape.”

Remus swallowed, wondering where he’d get a new cauldron from—his old one looked broken beyond salvaging. Snape threw him a cold look of disgust and turned away from him, blocking the view of the cauldron.

Remus wondered if it was too late to punch Snape. He tapped his foot under the desk, waiting for the lesson to be over. Snape turned and hissed at him to stop a few minutes later, but Remus just glared at him. Lily tried to explain what she was doing, but Remus didn’t hear much of what she was saying since Snape conveniently started muttering every time Lily addressed him.

With every attempt to peer into the cauldron Remus took, Snape somehow inched closer, obstructing his view. Remus wanted to give up and slump back in his chair, but he had to learn to brew potions. He stole a look at James and Sirius, laughing on the other side of the table, and wished he’d been paired with them. It wasn’t a good idea—he couldn’t get too close to them. A sting settled in the centre of his chest, and he looked away.

By the end of the lesson, Remus was kneeling on his chair, trying to see over Snape’s head. No matter how hard he tried, Snape couldn’t cover his field of vision completely. But the chair and the flagstone made for a very unstable combination. More than once, the chair tottered, and Remus held onto the side of the desk, sure he’d fall off the chair. Snape inching ever closer didn’t help either, and once Remus could swear, he could hear him kick the leg of the chair before Remus nearly toppled over and held onto Snape’s robes for purchase.

“Watch it,” Snape hissed, drying the spilt juice from an ingredient Remus didn’t recognise on his robes.

Remus was too busy trying to get his heart to calm down to hear what Lily was saying, but it must have been in his favour because Snape moved ever so slightly, and Remus could catch a glimpse of the cauldron without climbing back onto his chair.

Remus hurried out of the room the minute class was over. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a good few hours undisturbed in his four-poster up in Gryffindor Tower. He only had one class left and sincerely hoped he wouldn’t fall asleep to Binns’ low monologue.

Remus wondered what there’d be for lunch when his legs snapped together, and he had to hold on to the wall to keep himself from toppling over face-first. Someone said, “Leaving so soon, Lupin?”

Remus twisted around, awkwardly shuffling his feet. Snape’s dark eyes gleamed in his pale face, and his lips curled into what could almost be considered a smile.

“What is it to you?” Remus asked, holding on to the wall, the other hand clutching his wand, hidden by the fabric of his robes.

Snape tutted. “Curious, how all your friends seem to abandon you the second the professors look away.”

Several Slytherins who were walking past stopped to enjoy the show. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about, or will you just insult me?”

“Insult you?” Snape laughed. “I’m just stating facts.”

Remus shrugged. The rush of energy he’d felt in the potions classroom had faded. His bones felt heavy, and he wanted nothing more than to escape. At least ten people had stopped to watch, undoubtedly expecting a fight, and they surrounded them from all sides.

“Snivellus. What a pleasant surprise.” Remus glanced over his shoulder. James Potter and Sirius Black stood behind him, grinning.

“What is it you want with our friend Lupin, Snivelly?” Sirius asked, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t want to steal him from us?”

Remus blinked slowly. Snape was out of focus, but Remus thought he could see a flush spreading across his face.

“You’re blocking the corridor,” a girl said curtly. She was taller than any of the others in the crowd. “What is going on here?”

“Nothing,” Snape said sweetly.

“Well, I suggest you all go to lunch then,” the girl said.

Remus could feel the tug on his arm and turned awkwardly. The crowd dispersed slowly, muttering and clearly disappointed about the turn of events.

“Black, you stay for a moment,” the girl said. She was a Slytherin.

James spoke up. “Can we help you?”

She ignored James, pushing a dark brown curl out of her face. “Sirius, stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” Sirius snapped.

“Clearly,” she remarked, eyeing Sirius. They looked remarkably similar. Their eyes had the same almond shape and long black lashes framing them, and she puffed out her chest in the same manner before speaking.

“What is it now?” Sirius said, his arms crossed and his chin held high.

“You should tell your friends to run along,” she said. “You wouldn’t want them to miss lunch.”

“You can’t make them leave.”

“I suppose I can’t,” she said, rummaging in her cloak. She pulled out a faded scroll with a black seal and handed it to Sirius. “Stop provoking the professors. You’re pushing your luck.”

“What I do is none of your business, Andromeda,” Sirius said.

Andromeda stepped closer, her back straight. “It is, and you know it,” she hissed. She eyed James and Remus, who tried very hard not to sway. Andromeda’s eyes narrowed, and she pointed her wand right at Remus.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked, but Remus felt his legs unstick the next moment, and he held onto the wall, studying Andromeda. A badge gleamed on her chest, but Remus couldn’t tell what it was for.

“You should really take better care of your friends,” Andromeda said. Remus wondered if this was the right moment to mention he wasn’t friends with the others. “Take him to the hospital wing.”

Sirius turned around and scrutinised Remus. “Why?”

Andromeda straightened. “He looks like he was trampled by a horde of centaurs.”

With that, she was off. Remus watched her retreating up the stairs, her robes billowing behind her. Sirius grinned, waving goodbye as Andromeda walked away.

Madam Pomfrey wasn’t thrilled to see Remus. She hurried James and Sirius out of the room before fussing over Remus and lecturing him about not telling her about the scrapes and bruises in the morning.

She conjured a plate of cold cuts and bread, which she left by his bedside. On the bright side, she had applied pastes onto his bruises, and they seemed to work because breathing no longer hurt. Remus thrashed and eventually fell into a restless sleep.

The others brought Remus’s bag and the homework from History of Magic he’d missed sometime late afternoon. It was well after dinner when Remus could finally convince Madam Pomfrey to let him go. He had to promise to head straight to bed.

Remus snuck into the dormitory, hoping the other boys were already asleep. Alas, they sat on James’s bed, chattering away happily and eating what looked like chocolate. Remus’s mouth watered. He’d hoped to have some chocolate cake for dessert.

“Lupin, come join us,” James called as soon as he’d spotted Remus.

But Remus had already climbed into his bed and drawn the curtains shut. He changed into comfortable pyjamas that hid his skin just in case the curtains slipped while he was asleep and stared at the canopy.

“You can have some of our chocolate,” Peter squeaked.

“I just want to go to bed,” Remus replied, wishing he was normal and could open the curtains and join the others.

“Come on,” James said. “Just ten minutes. Then you can go to bed.”

Remus hugged his pillow, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, gathered a book from his nightstand, and clambered out of bed. Sirius shifted to make room for him in their little circle and held out a chocolate frog.

Remus leaned against one of the wooden posts, as far away from the other boys as he could, and unwrapped the frog, ready to catch it as it jumped out of its carton. Remus waited until it went limp before biting into it. He couldn’t get over the icky sensation that a wiggling chocolate frog made in his mouth.

Remus stopped chewing, aware that the other boys were staring at him.

“So,” James said. “What was going on with you this afternoon?”

Remus shrugged and pulled his sleeves over his hands before he swallowed. “I guess it was the spilt potion.”

“Really?” Sirius said.

“Yeah,” Remus said, shifting. “Nasty fumes and all. Didn’t you feel anything, Peter?”

Red spots crept up Peter’s neck, but to Remus’s relief, he said, “I guess I felt a little woozy during history.”

“That has more to do with history than potions,” Sirius said. “If I hadn’t tried to vanish Snivelly’s greasy hair, I would have fallen asleep.”

“You tried to do what?” Remus said, his eyes big.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” James said. “It clearly didn’t work.”

“Shove off, Potter,” Sirius said, snatching another chocolate frog and biting its head off. “You couldn’t do it if you tried.”

“Do you want to make a bet on that?”

“Five Galleons I do it first,” Sirius said. “Anyone else want to join in?”

Remus shook his head. Even if he could perform the spell, he didn’t have the money to enter. “Do you do that often?”

James looked taken aback. “Do what?”

“Pull pranks on people.”

“Sure,” James said.

“He’s not very good at it, though,” Sirius teased.

“Oi, I’m not the one who spent my night with McGonagall. Thank you very much.” Peter grinned, and James broke into fits of laughter. Remus drew his knees to his chest, focusing on the beam of moonlight that filtered in through the window.

***

In charms, they finally got to use their wands. Professor Flitwick showed them how to produce light, and by the end of their lesson, more than half the class had mastered the spell. Peter seemed to struggle, his wand flickering for only a second before extinguishing. Remus promised to help him practise.

Professor Slughorn never ventured far from their table during potions class in the afternoon. Remus was careful to monitor Peter’s every step this time. It was unnecessary since the incident the day before had scared Peter off the subject entirely. Remus still wondered if he should write home and ask for a new cauldron from his parents.

After class, the others from Remus’s dormitory strode into the grounds, clutching their bags. Remus had disappeared quietly around a corner and found a secluded spot on a windowsill overlooking the Great Lake, discreetly hidden behind a tapestry. Remus scribbled down his essay and set it to dry, pulling up his copy of ‘Fantastic Beasts’. He started with the section on grindylows. The illustrations depicted the creatures as small humanoids with spindly fingers. Remus shuddered. He leafed through the pages, unable to find something that held his interest, leaning his head against the window for support.

Remus woke with a start. The landscape outside had darkened. He scrambled for his things, shoving them into his rucksack, and clamoured down quickly. His foot slipped, and Remus hit his knee on the stone wall. He did not know what time it was, but his stomach was grumbling.

Remus ran the pain off, sprinting to the Great Hall two floors below. The other boys were already sitting there, laughing and eating.

“Lupin, where’ve you been?”

Remus shrugged. “Nodded off reading.”

Remus piled food onto his plate. The other boys stared at the mountain of mince, mashed potatoes, and gravy Remus inhaled in record time.

“We were outside studying,” Sirius said.

“Where were you?” James asked.

“I don’t like summer,” Remus said, his mouth full.

“But where were you?” Peter squeaked.

Remus didn’t answer.

***

As the week drew on, slipping away from the others became increasingly difficult. One of the boys always seemed to pay attention to Remus, and more than once tied him up in a conversation when he was just about to slip around a corner.

His knowledge of secret passages came in handy, disappearing behind tapestries and down doors the others knew nothing about. Remus had a lingering suspicion that Filch knew about the passages and that they were the reason he could show up out of thin air.

Mrs Norris followed Remus even more when he was with the others than when he was roaming the halls alone, almost as if she knew about James and Sirius’s penchant for trouble.

Once they dropped a dungbomb into the bag of an unsuspecting seventh-year who passed them in the corridor and had to run down several flights of stairs to escape the hexes, the girl hurled their way.

By the end of the week, Remus had run out of excuses for why he wouldn’t spend the afternoon outside with the others. So he lugged his rucksack to the lake and sat in the shade of an old oak. James loosened his cloak, dropping it by the trunk and stretched on the grass.

“Why are you reading so much, anyway?” Sirius asked.

“I like it,” Remus said, shrugging.

“But why textbooks?” Sirius picked at a flower. “Why not go to the library and get something actually interesting?”

He had come across the library his first weekend at Hogwarts, but the librarian had shooed him out rather crudely. Remus admitted that sneaking three slices of chocolate cake out of the Great Hall and trying to eat them in the back of the library hadn’t been his brightest moment. “Madam Prince doesn’t like me,” he said, looking out over the lake.

A few students stood shirtless in the shallows, tickling the tentacles of the giant squid basking in the sun.

“Who’s that?” James asked.

Sirius pushed a strand of hair out of his face. “The librarian.”

“What’d you do?” James asked.

“Snuck in cake,” Remus mumbled.

James burst out laughing. “And here I thought you had done something bad.”

“She had my things chase me out of the library,” Remus said, gesturing. “I haven’t gone back since. I can’t look her in the face.”

“I doubt that’s the worst that’s ever happened,” Sirius said. “She won’t even remember you.”