Year One: Twelve

Peter’s birthday fell on a Tuesday. Remus, who wasn’t big into birthdays and usually excused himself to the restroom whenever the topic came up, had to be reminded by James a few days before. After the Quidditch match was over and James had sulked for an appropriate amount of time, he functioned like a human being again.

Remus didn’t have enough time to get Peter a proper present. Instead, he nicked his homework, completed the missing pieces, and arranged a birthday cake with the house-elves. He was nearly caught by Mrs Norris and had to run up three flights of stairs to escape the irritating cat.

The Marauders sat huddled on their dormitory floor, eating cake—Remus hadn’t known what flavour to get Peter since his only standard for food was to be within reach—so he’d let the house-elves do the picking. They’d sent him upstairs with a triple-chocolate cake and an orange sponge cake. The four were too full to make it downstairs for dinner.

James had gotten him a poster and shawl from his favourite professional Quidditch team, Puddlemere United. Sirius presented him with a stack of parchment, winking at Remus. They cracked up at the bewildered expression on Peter’s face, mumbling his thanks. Sirius pulled out a box of chocolates from behind his back to go along with his ever so useful present. Peter had also been sent a new deck of exploding snap cards, new clothes and a ton of sweets by his family. They had the cake pushed aside and broke in Peter’s new cards.

Unfortunately, with Peter’s birthday over, all the Marauders’ birthday obsessions turned to him. Not that he hated his birthday per se—James just tended to be over the top, and Remus didn’t need that kind of attention from the whole school.

Professor Bracegirdle seemed to have eased up on him, at least. She no longer directed all her questions at Remus. Defence Against the Dark Arts was far more comfortable that way. Now that the class had moved on to duelling, the desks were stacked against the walls whenever they entered the classroom in favour of a large open space.

Each week, they were paired up with someone new, and Professor Bracegirdle kept the top scores on a board on the wall. So far, Remus had stayed on the board, along with Lily, Sirius and a Hufflepuff girl called Amelia. James had fallen off after he’d been beaten by both Remus and Sirius. He didn’t speak to either of them for two days. Snape was also on the board. Sirius insisted it was only because he wasn’t in the same group.

The fifth and seventh years had their own boards, which Remus glanced at while waiting for the others to finish their duels. He recognised the Black sisters’ names, three Prewetts, and the head boy.

Over breakfast, an owl dropped a scroll in Remus’s lap Sunday morning. He didn’t expect any post from his parents, so in his fumbling, the parchment fell underneath the table, and he had to scramble to retrieve it. He opened it with his cheeks burning red.

Dear Remus

I would like to meet with you in my office before your birthday.

Best,

P. Pomfrey

James, who’d glanced over, asked, “What does Pomfrey want with you?”

“She’s a school friend of my dad’s,” Remus said. It was the only reason he could think of. He didn’t know why else she’d want to meet with him, especially since the full moon was on Tuesday, anyway.

“Do you want to go now?” James asked.

Remus shook his head. “I wanted to finish my potions assignment.”

He’d need good marks in his homework for the plan he’d come up with this month.

The Marauders largely left Remus alone. He’d finally caved and told them the date of his birthday, and Remus strongly suspected they were busy planning. Remus trudged up to the library.

“Come sit with us!” Mary called from a table on the first floor of the library.

“Shhh!” Madam Prince silenced her instantly.

Mary pulled a face. Remus didn’t like most of the downstairs tables. Too many people walked by, and he couldn’t focus with all the noise from the hall.

“Everywhere else is full,” Mary continued. Reluctantly, Remus settled with her, Lily, and Marlene.

“Where are your friends?” Mary asked.

Remus pulled out his homework. “Scheming.”

“What are they up to now?”

“I have no idea,” Remus admitted. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“I bet it’s stupid,” Lily murmured.

“A surprise for whom?” Marlene asked, her voice quiet.

“Me.”

“Do you really want that surprise?” Lily asked with raised eyebrows.

Mary brushed over her, leaning forward. “What are they surprising you for?”

Conversations were supposed to be kept at a whispering volume—but that didn’t seem to be Mary’s strong suit. “My birthday,” Remus replied, trying to make himself look busy.

“Ooh, when is it?”

“Next week.”

“Why haven’t you told us before?”

“You haven’t asked,” Remus said, shrugging, and focusing on his essay. He’d have to give Peter some pointers, too, especially since he barely scraped by on an Acceptable.

After Remus was comfortable that it was the best he could do in a subject like potions, and rereading it twice to be sure, he set his parchment aside to dry. He stretched. His muscles were already stiff, and he could hear the scratching of dozens of quills and the quiet shuffling of people and paper. He closed his eyes.

***

Remus sludged into the dungeons after lunch. Peter chatted animatedly with James while they waited for the potions classroom to open. Remus leaned against the cool stone and closed his eyes. He was burning up, and his gums were sore. He’d forced himself to eat, but was deeply regretting it. Perhaps the potion wouldn’t blow up in his face if he vomited into the cauldron.

A cold draft blew past. The cavernous halls of the dungeons reminded him of the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. Snape strutted down the corridor. Remus could hear his whisper. He opened his eyes in time to see Lily hitting him on the arm—and to hold Sirius back from punching him in the face.

Professor Slughorn opened the door with a wide grin. Remus dragged Sirius along with as much strength as he could muster, although it might have been beneficial if he spent the evening in detention.

“You okay?” Lily whispered when they settled.

Remus gave her a subtle smile and nodded. He felt like crap.

They had started the potion in the previous lesson and let it sit overnight. Remus took his time collecting the ingredients from the shelves. Peter hovered, holding the mortar for Remus, whilst Slughorn ambled around the classroom, peaking in cauldrons and answering questions.

Remus was about to crush the bat spleens when Slughorn stopped at their table and asked, “James, m’boy, how are your parents?”

“Good,” James said, dropping something in his cauldron.

“Truly, truly. And yours, Mr Black?”

“You’d better ask my cousins,” he said quietly.

Remus added a root of Asphodel to the mortar. The book explicitly said not to add the root after the potion had been off the fire for over a minute. Remus hoped it would produce a serious enough reaction for him to go to the hospital wing.

He let Peter stir the potion before he added the powder. He glanced at the cauldron, waiting.

No reaction. Remus scratched his head. He’d have to find a different way into the hospital wing. He rekindled the fire, disappointed his idea hadn’t worked and dropped his head in his hand, studying the textbook.

“Remus,” Peter said, pulling at his sleeve.

“What?”

“The cauldron.”

Yellow smoke rose from their cauldron. Remus stood, moving his head closer. This needed to be believable. It smelled faintly of flowers.

“Back up,” Slughorn said, hurrying over. He pointed his wand at the cauldron, and the smoke dispersed. “Uh-oh. It seems your potion has turned.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter muttered.

“It’s fine,” Remus said.

“I’m afraid there is no way to salvage the potion,” Slughorn said.

Remus nodded.

“Pettigrew, observe Potter and Black. You,” he gestured to Remus. “Why don’t you observe Miss Evans and Mr Snape? Their potion is outstanding, as usual.”

Snape snickered, but Lily hissed, “Be quiet.” in his direction.

“Loony Lupin being a hazard is what it is,” Snape muttered.

Lily’s eyes flickered angrily. Remus sat in his chair only half-present, muttering his approval with whatever Lily said.

Peter still apologised when the boys sat over their homework in the common room two hours later. Remus couldn’t hear it anymore.

“I’m heading to the hospital wing,” he announced.

“Are you alright?” James asked, looking up.

“It’s the smoke, I think,” Remus said. “My head is spinning, and I feel funny.”

“I’ll come with,” Sirius volunteered.

“I’ll come too,” Peter said.

“You don’t have to,” Remus answered.

“Just to get you there safely,” Sirius insisted. “It’s fine, Pete. I’ve finished all my work.”

Remus nodded. He wasn’t getting out of that one, but did it have to be Sirius? He was the only one who’d seen the scars.

Sirius hadn’t given him a reason for worry since Christmas. He’d seemingly forgotten all about the scars after the holiday, and Remus’d had other things to keep him busy.

They clamoured out of the portrait hole and made their way down the corridors around bends, waiting for the stairs to turn the right way. Neither of them spoke.

Remus nearly missed a trick step on the first floor, catching himself on the bannister.

“Are you alright?” Sirius asked.

“All fine. Bloody steps.”

Sirius pushed open the large doors to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey hurried toward them.

“He breathed in some potion fumes,” Sirius explained as Madam Pomfrey made Remus sit on a bed.

“What kind of potion was it?”

“Forgetfulness Potion,” Sirius answered, his hands crossed. “But Professor Slughorn said it was messed up.”

“You should have brought him to me immediately,” Madam Pomfrey chastised. Sirius flinched, blinking quickly.

“He said he felt fine.”

She fussed over Remus, resting her hand on his forehead. “I’ll keep him overnight. Just to make sure.”

Sirius nodded, his eyes twinkling.

“You can leave now.”

“See you at breakfast, Lupin,” Sirius called as Madam Pomfrey shooed him out of the room.

Remus sat up straight. “You wanted to speak to me?”

“What about the potion?”

“I only got a quick whiff,” Remus said, looking at his hands. “I don’t think it’s that bad. I just have to have the others believe it.”

“Very well,” Madam Pomfrey said, narrowing her eyes. “We have some time left.”

Remus let the door to her office fall shut as she settled behind her desk and pulled out a quill. She gestured for him to sit.

“What is it you wanted to discuss?” Remus asked.

“As I understand it, is your birthday next week?”

Remus nodded.

“You’re becoming a young man,” she continued. “And that includes certain changes to your body.”

“Are you having this conversation with every student?” Remus asked.

Madam Pomfrey chuckled. “No. As I have told you before, I couldn’t find many sources on how to care for someone like you.” She laid her hand on a stack of four books. “Few people are bitten as young as you are, survive, and get cared for by witches and wizards.”

Remus shifted in his seat.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” she said. “All the books, and the people I’ve spoken to—other healers—have told me about symptoms much worse than you suffer. You’ve taken me by surprise.”

“So, I’m,” Remus didn’t know how to phrase it. “Special?”

“I’m afraid not,” she said. “They have only ever encountered a handful of children, and most did not return for a second time. All of them have experience with fully-grown werewolves. If they are to believe, your symptoms will worsen as you age.”

“Oh.” Remus nodded. There was a long pause. “How much worse?”

“I couldn’t possibly say for certain.” She shuffled through a stack of parchment. “I daresay you will experience more of a buildup to the full moon, and the transformations may last longer.”

“Longer?” Remus asked.

“When I bring you to the Shack now, how long does it take you to transform?”

Remus shrugged. “It’s different every time.”

“If you’d allow me, I would like to stay outside the door until you have transformed tonight. To record how much time passes. I believe your transformations will continue to be earlier, closer to moonrise.”

Remus nodded. A clock on her shelves dinged.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “So late already. We’d better head out. Have you had a chance to eat something?”

***

Remus was woken early in the morning by the Marauders piling onto his bed, all shouting, “Happy Birthday, Lupin!”

Remus had made them promise to keep a low profile, and they seemed to manage. The only thing that seemed out of place at breakfast was the selection of muffins in every flavour on the Gryffindor table. Peter grinned mischievously.

Their entire morning was taken up by a rather dull Herbology lesson in Greenhouse four. Mary gave him a card from her and Marlene, while Lily gave him a box of muggle chocolates. The Marauders dragged Remus off to the dormitories as soon as lunch was over.

On his bed, he found a small pile of haphazardly wrapped presents. Remus blushed.

“Go on,” James whined, nudging him. “I’ve waited four hours for this.”

“You didn’t have to,” Remus muttered.

James’s present was first. A scarf in the colours of Gryffindor house, much like the one he owned. “So you can come to support me when I’m on the team next year,” he said with a wink.

Sirius had wrapped up two books, and Peter had gotten him more sweets and a magazine on wizarding chess strategies. Remus organised all the presents in his suitcase, along with the letter from his parents that had arrived over breakfast.

“So, what now?” Remus asked.

James bounced on his heels. “Well, we thought you know so much about this castle. You might want to share some of that knowledge?”

Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Or,” Sirius started. “We could find a new secret passage.”

Remus’s face split into a grin. “If it doesn’t end like Black’s birthday.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your beauty sleep,” James said.

Remus led them to a passage in the great tower he hadn’t explored yet. It started on the third floor, behind a portrait of a gaggle of playing children. Remus walked ahead, holding his wandlight high. He’d have to come back to sketch the route as soon as he knew where it ended.

James and Sirius whispered excitedly. The passage was wide enough for two people to walk side by side for most of it and seemed to slant downward. Something silver moved ahead. Remus stopped.

“What? Peter asked.

“Something moved,” Remus said. “There.”

James squinted. “What’d look like?”

“Silver,” Remus said.

“A ghost?”

“Probably,” Remus admitted.

The passage always leaned slightly to the left. In the end, Remus supposed they’d done a full circle. They pushed the fabric aside and blinked into the bright light of the Grand Staircase.

From what Remus could discern, they’d ended up on one of the first-floor landings the staircases rarely turned to. To their left, a corridor led up a flight of stairs Remus had never taken.

“Where are we?” Peter asked.

Sirius pointed to their right. “That’s the Grand Staircase. Is that how you do it, Lupin? Find these passages?”

“Nothing in this castle is ever what it seems to be. I just push on everything,” Remus said. “Usually, something’ll open.”

“Where did you learn that?” James asked.

 Remus shrugged. “My dad used to tell me stories about an enchanted castle when I was younger.”

He missed these stories. He’d have to ask his father if he actually had meant Hogwarts.

“Where to now?” Sirius asked. He came from the landing. “There’s no stair leading down.”

Remus pointed to the stairs. “Then we go up there.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked.

Sirius grinned. “What’s life without a little risk?”

The ceiling in the corridor was lower than in most other places of the castle. It slanted toward the left, and periodically, small alcoves flooded the darkness with light. Remus stopped by a window and took a peek.

The snow had melted, leaving barren brown slopes in its stead. Beneath them, the cold, grey lake stretched out into the distance. Remus wondered how deep it was. The corner of the Great Hall obscured the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

“How high d’you think we are?” Sirius asked.

Remus didn’t want to think about it. At least he wasn’t on a broom.

“Two hundred feet?” James suggested. “Come on.”

They turned around and came face-to-face with Filch.

“What are you doing?” Filch snarled suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Remus said.

“Nothing!” Filch spat, his jowls quivering unpleasantly. “A likely story! Sneaking around.”

Remus shrugged.

“Well, get back to your common room where you belong!” Filch snapped and stood glaring until the Marauders had passed out of sight.

They continued down the corridor, wondering where they’d pop out. Remus had a vague idea. From the perspective he’d had, they had to be on the south side of the castle.

“I know where we are,” Remus said when they reached a large landing. “Defense Against the Dark Arts is just down those stairs.”

A portrait of an old wizard snored quietly opposite Professor Bracegirdle’s office. Remus led the Marauders down the spiral staircase.

“There we are,” Remus said, pointing to the corner.

“Would that passage save us time?” Peter asked.

“When?”

Peter shrugged. “The mornings?”

“We’ll still go to breakfast,” Remus reminded him.

“Oh, right.”

A faint scraping sound filled the space, like the ghostly murmur of stones shifting. Remus looked around, confused—Sirius had disappeared.

“Black?” he called.

“Back here,” Sirius answered. “Come check this out!”

“Where are you?” James asked.

“Back here.” Sirius’s head appeared behind the statue of the round-bellied wizard. “You won’t believe what I found.”

They all hurried behind the statue, squeezing into the tight space. A small door had opened. Remus could see steps swiftly descending into the darkness.

“How’d you open it?” Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged. “I tapped my wand on the vials the statue is holding.”

“Where do you think it leads, Lupin?” James asked.

“We could find out,” Remus suggested.

“What if we get stuck?” Peter asked.

“I’ll go in,” Remus said. “You wait out here, so you can get me out if I can’t find a way.”

Remus crept into the dark space and lit his wand.

“I’ll come in, too,” James said, squeezing next to Remus.

“Help me with the door then,” Remus said.

Together, they pushed the stone door from its spot on the wall until it fell shut. The passage was damp, the steep steps descending into the darkness.

“What now?” Remus asked, whispering without a good reason.

James shrugged, tapping the wall with his wand. “Not that, apparently.”

Remus pushed one hand against the stone. A low groan escaped from the stone. “Help me here?”

James pushed his shoulder against the wall. The stone budged slightly, and a small strip of light flooded the space.

“Hold on,” Remus said, placing his wand between his teeth. He gripped the edge of the door and pulled.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Slowly, the gap widened—not as far as it had been moments before, but enough for them to get through.

“Come on,” James called.

Sirius peaked his head through the opening and crawled in. He nearly fell face forward down the steps.

When they were all safely in the passage and had their wands lit, they descended.

“Thank you, Gregory the Smarmy,” Sirius said.

“Who?” James asked.

“The statue.”

The steps ebbed into a narrow, low, earthy passageway that reminded Remus of the one beneath the Whomping Willow. This passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. The Marauders hurried along, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding their wands high.

“We should map this place,” James said.

Remus grinned. He had a rudimentary map stored safely in a pair of socks at the bottom of his suitcase. He only took it out when he was alone—Remus wasn’t sure why. Since September, he’d amassed numerous parchment scraps with sketches of different parts of the castle. His collection was far from complete and proved itself a tedious task. He didn’t know why he felt the compulsion to record the castle at all. After all, he never used the map fragments to get around—Remus was one of the few that rarely got lost. Maybe he’d show the map to the others someday.

The passage was long and cold. Soon, the cobbled stones turned into packed earth, and roots broke from the walls from time to time. They had to take care not to trip. Their breath fogged up their view. The passage was longer than any of the others in the castle. Remus wondered where in the dungeons this led to.

A damp wooden door stopped them in their tracks. They looked at each other. James’s eyes sparkled, and his mouth was split into a wide grin. Sirius pushed against the door. It gave way with a groan. Light flooded the space. The ground outside was muddy—Remus had to hop over a puddle.

“Where do you think we are?” he asked.

“There is only one place we could be,” James said, spinning around slowly. “Hogsmeade.”

Little thatched cottages clustered around what Remus now recognised as a cobblestone road. They’d emerged from a door half-built into the foundation of a run-down cottage. It was the last house on the street, and the stones faded out as they led into the dark underbrush of the forest.

Slowly, Remus took a couple of steps, looking around. He couldn’t see any villagers, but that didn’t mean anything. “We shouldn’t be here,” he said.

“Are you joking? This is great,” James said.

Remus intertwined his fingers. “What if the villagers see us? It’s not a Hogsmeade weekend. And even if it were—we’re not old enough yet.”

“It looks like we’re far enough from the village centre,” Sirius said. “Relax. We can go into the forest. They won’t see us there.”

“The forest?” Peter squeaked.

Sirius grinned. “Your birthday is so much better than mine was, Lupin.”

They followed the stone path until it gave way to muddy puddles. James steadied Peter, who almost slipped face-first into the dirt. Soon, the sky overhead wasn’t visible anymore, and the air grew damper. The forest was off-limits for students. Many rumours circulated about what creatures hid between the trees, but Remus supposed they’d be fine. 

He was surprised to recognise some plants from their Herbology lessons. When the trees became denser, and the path forked into three hard-to-spot directions, they turned around. Remus didn’t want to be caught in the Forbidden Forest after dusk.

Remus’s stomach grumbled when they reached the stairs leading up to the castle. Panting, he sped up, his face hot, his feet freezing. He did not know the time but hoped they didn’t miss dinner.

With four of them, it was easier to push the door away. It was open barely more than a crack when Remus whispered, “Stop.”

“What?” Peter asked.

“Stop it. There’s someone outside.”

He couldn’t explain the feeling. He heard ragged breathing, and in the blinding light, shadows moved.

“How do you know?” James asked.

“Shh. Can’t you see the shadows?”

James shook his head—the others looked at Remus as if he was going mad. “Just trust me.”

Remus closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. Between the four of them, the space was tight. He could hear all their breathing, their fast heartbeats, and the mud on their shoes had a distinct earthy smell like a field after a rainstorm.

The breathing outside grew fainter, along with uneven steps on the stone slabs. It could be Filch. Remus had seen him limp before. Could he know about the passage?

Remus counted to sixty, then a hundred. He lost count. When the corridor outside seemed silent for an eternity, he finally gestured to the others to continue pushing. The grinding stone seemed too loud.

Remus scrambled out fast, straightening to look around. No one was there. Sirius closed up the passage with a tap of his wand. It was still light outside, so Remus supposed they were still on time for dinner.