The Bewlay Brothers

October 31st, 1971

The Great Hall was bustling with students. The sunrise shone through the magical ceiling and the candles seemed brighter than ever. Or maybe it was the shadowed corridors and the dimmed lights spelled over the full halls. Pumpkins lingered in every corner and it seemed that each portrait gleamed with wonder. Even the ghosts seemed gleeful.

The pumpkin juice was sweetened and pies of all flavors decorated the long tables. And a warm sort of feeling spread inside him as he sat with James and Peter, taste testing each of the new Halloween puddings. It was something small, but Sirius enjoyed it all the same.

Owls flew through the open windows, shipping packages that were probably filled with buckets of candy and wax-sealed letters. They looked almost mystical under the bright candle lights and the beautiful orange coloured decorations.

A small, wax-sealed letter landed in his lap. A dooming letter; entailing all the fancy words that Sirius always tried to push away. The letter that confirmed his fate; a fate always seemed to tie him down, like shackles constrained around a prisoner. His stomach churned.

“It’s quidditch tryouts today!” James said excitedly, his leg bouncing on the floor. “I’ve been training all month for this.”

Peter gave him a pat on the back. “We know, mate.”

Sirius tried to smile encouragingly. “You’ll do great. I’m sure they’ll get you on the team right away.”

He ruffled his jet-black hair, shaking his head. “That’s not how it works.”

“You’ll be great, James.” His heart pounded in his chest. “It’ll be fine. Don’t be a girl.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I’m being silly. It'll be fine.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Peter took a bite of a cookie. “Damn, this cookie is good.”

James laughed. “Mum’s food is better. She might send some Rose cookies for Christmas. Anyway, I gotta bounce. Trials are soon!” 

He plastered a smile onto his face. “I think I’m going to go up to the common room.”

Peter frowned. “But you’ve barely eaten anything. And we have classes.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said. The words came out more harsh than he intended, so he quickly added: “Besides, since when do we care to miss a class, anyways?”

Sirius sprinted up the stairs. He didn’t care who was watching or about the Gryffindors that were just now leaving the common room. They were all blurs in his eyes; small spots, disappearing with the speed he was running.

“Password?” the fat lady asked.

“Just let me in.” He scoffed at her, holding up his Gryffindor tie. When he’d first gotten into the house, he paraded it around like a trophy. But now, he never wanted to see it again. “You’ve seen me before, you old hag.”

She scrunched her nose in disdain. She wouldn’t be the only one, he thought bitterly. “I’ve never seen such disrespect in all my years at Hogwarts,” she exclaimed.

A clawing feeling scratched at his lungs. The world was closing in on him; tight like the shackles that held him down. He had grown through the shackles. He had broken them with his illusion of freedom. And now he had to suffer the consequences. “Let me in. You know who I am,” he demanded. “Please.”

And by some miracle, the door swung open. Not stopping to ponder the reasons behind the mysterious opening of the door, he sat enclosed within the curtains of his bed. He examined the letter. His mother’s handwriting was elegant—written with calligraphy skills befitting only the perfect trophy wife— and the letter was sealed with a prim Black seal. Fuming, Sirius wondered how many pure-blood families had their own branded wax-seal. He scoffed at the thought.

He hated that his hands trembled as he opened the seal. He hated that he had to take a long, deep breath before reading its contents.

Dear Sirius Orion Black,

We have recently been notified of your sorting into Gryffindor house. Orion and I are very disappointed  in your failure to uphold our family legacy and your inability to shoulder the weight promised to our family so many years ago. I implore you to consider the consequences before committing an act that tarnishes our reputation such as this. And since you have failed to lead by example and teach your brother the correct path, you will be forbidden from speaking to him. 

On a more optimistic note, you are officially invited to the wedding of Bellatrix Black and  Rodolphus Lestrange on January 1st, 1972.  We expect you to be on your best behaviour. With the right discipline, we hope you’ll learn to better your ways and find your rightful place within this family.

Best wishes,

Walburga Black. 

Sirius wanted scoff. He wanted to cry. His heart was pounding in his chest and that strange feeling was rising in his chest again. He wanted to rip that stupid seal off and throw it out the window as hard as he could.

He could hear the words in his mothers low, dangerous voice. He could hear her shrieks and the small whispers between the lines. He could see the discipline that awaited him and he could feel the monster looming in the dark. He hadn’t felt the monster in a long time. It grabbed at his lungs and clutched at his heart. It made his stomach jolt and his heart pound in his chest. It was the imminent unease every time James leaned into a hug or when a wax-sealed letter appeared on his table.

It lingered at Hogwarts too, although it was much less frequent. He liked that. He liked planning awesome pranks and laughing with James and Peter and listening to James rant about some stupid girl. He liked laughing and having friends and feeling free.

 Maybe it was because deep down, Sirius Black knew he would never be free. The monster would always haunt him and the shackles would always constrain him; when they pressed down on his skin and when they were invisible and numb on his hand. But they were still there. Always. And there was nothing he could do to get rid of them.

But he didn’t like to think about that.

So he took a deep breath, walked back into the common room, and threw the letter into the golden flames. He relished in the burn. The crackling of the flames as they devoured her cruel words and the ash as the monster turned to dust. She was gone. And Sirius was free again.

But he didn’t feel free. He felt trapped. He felt like the world was closing in on him and the ground beneath him was crumbling. He felt like he needed to breathe. Slipping into the bathroom, he slid onto the hard ground. His blood pounded in his ears and he was vibrating against the cold floor; like a mirror phone being called. 

Failure. I am very disappointed. Consequences. I am very disappointed. 

The monster was crawling up his flesh. It was clawing at his lungs. Wrapping its arms around his throat.

He’d failed his family. He’d failed Regulus. And soon he was going to face the consequences.

A knock on the door. His heart slammed furiously against his ribcage. “Sirius?”

James mumbled something else but Sirius couldn’t hear it over the loud pounding of blood in his ears. 

“Sirius?” The voice was distant. It sounded far away, as if he was trapped in his own little bubble; apart from the rest of the world. He didn’t like that. Without the rest of the world buzzing around him, he could hear her shrieks. He could feel the monster squeezing at his throat. 

“Sirius, what’s wrong? Whatever it is, you know I’ll always be there for you,” the voice said again. But Sirius could barely hear it. “Just open the door.”

Failure. Failure. Failure.

“Black, open the goddamn door!” someone yelled in the distance. But this voice was different. This voice was gruff and loud. It was a slap in the face, jarring the raven-haired boy back to reality. “You’re not the only one here with fucking problems,” the harsh voice muttered.

“What the hell, Loony?” James demanded from outside. 

Lupin scoffed so loud that Sirius could hear it over the pounding of his heart. “You pure-bloods always insist on sugar-coating everything. You’re not going to make anything better by spouting bullshit.”

“Well, saying that everything is horrible isn’t going to help either.”

“At least I’m not a liar,” he said. “Now, will your posh highness Sirius Black do me the honour of opening the damned door already?”

James said something else but he couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. You have failed to teach your brother the correct path. You have failed. You have failed.

Sirius cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Lupin can come in,” he heard himself say suddenly, surprising himself. He opened the door slightly, before collapsing to the ground. He buried his head in his hands, trying his best to take control of his breathing.

Failure. Failure. Failure.

“Panic attacks, eh?” he heard Lupin say, sliding down to lean against the wall beside him. “My mam used to have lots of those.” For the first time since he’d first heard his annoying, accented voice, the strange boy sounded almost awkward.

“You’d think I’d be pretty good at this with the amount of times I’d have to deal with it, but as you can see I still suck,” he said with something of a nervous chuckle. “Kira would have a fag, but she’d never lend me one. Told me it would cut my life in half or something.”

The boy gave a small laugh at the words, as if he were looking back on his own memory. “Mam always tried to find four things that she could see, four things that she could hear, four things she could hear, and four things she loved. But that never worked for me. Not with all those damned words following me around.”

And as the Lupin boy spoke, about Kira and the old coffee shop near his home, Sirius felt the monster loosening its clutches; he felt his breathing slow as the cold dread pulsing in his veins became warmer. Perhaps it was the strange boy’s annoying accent or his softer voice now that he wasn’t glaring at him.

“Are you shagging Kira?” he asked. His voice was hoarse and choked; weak. But if the Lupin boy noticed, he didn’t say anything. Sirius was grateful for that.

Instead, he laughed. He laughed for a long time. He laughed for so long that Sirius thought he saw tears of mirth in the boy’s eyes. “She’s my boss. Besides, she already has a gi-partner.”

When he was sure his voice was back to normal, he asked: “Do you want to shag Kira?”

By the disgusted expression on Lupin’s face, Sirius braced for a glare or at least an insult, but instead, he laughed again. “She’s sixteen,” the boy told him with a small smile. “Turning seventeen on Christmas.”

“Why does James love his parents so much?” he asked suddenly, making the boy’s eyes widen in surprise.

The question slipped his lips without his permission. He didn’t even know why he expected Remus Lupin to be able to answer his question, of everyone. 

Lupin opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. “I guess because his parents love him or something. They care about him and stuff. Don’t your parents love you?”

He looked away. He blinked back the involuntary tears pricking in his eyes. He thought about all of the red marks on his arm on the train and the searing pain of his skin tearing open; the searing pain of her words carving into his mind, leaving him with a bone-deep dread pulsing in his veins and a dark monster lurking in his mind.

“No.” He took a deep breath. “No, I don’t think they do.”

“Oh,” he said. They stayed in silence for a moment before Lupin finally broke it. “I think that happens sometimes. You know, when a mum doesn’t want her baby. It’s not the baby’s fault. It’s just how it is, I guess.”

“You think so?” There was something hopeful in his eyes as he said the words; a spark of light within the pit of darkness the monster had brought on.

“Yeah.” He turned to look Sirius in the eye. “I do.”

A hint of a smile spread onto his face as he looked into the strange boy’s sincere amber eyes; no teasing glint or piercing glare. But little did the strange boy know that his words of hope would stay with Sirius many years later; a singular thought his mind would latch onto in the dark and a reflection of hope in a time where he thought there was none.

But for now, he grinned, all memories of the darkness forgotten; if only temporarily.

“So, Lupin, are you going to tell me what brilliant prank you have in store for Hogwarts today?”

Despite his encouraging words, Lupin still persisted in being an annoying prat; he just shook his head with that teasing smirk of his. “Not a chance, Sirius.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sirius? I wasn’t aware we were on a first name basis.”

“Now you are, I guess,” Lupin—apparently Remus—informed him, getting up from the ground with a wince. “So, if you’re all better now, I’m going to need to actually work on my evil scheme if I want it to be ready by evening.”

“Won’t they catch you?” he asked, just then remembering the week’s worth of detention he was supposed to be attending.

“Don’t be stupid. I can carry out my evil schemes without getting caught, Sirius.” He placed his hand on the door. “What I can tell you is, it’s going to be grand.”

“Wait,” Sirius called, before the boy opened the door. “Are you going to disappear again tonight?”

Remus looked at him for a moment. “Not tonight.”

When Sirius left the bathroom, he was met with two sets of concerned eyes scanning him.

“Is everything alright?” James asked worriedly.

Peter side eyed the strange boy. “Did Lupin do anything?” he asked suspiciously.

“Remus didn’t do anything,” he assured them. “Surprisingly, he wasn’t as much of a prat as we thought he was.”

James gave him a quizzical look. “Remus?!” 

Sirius sighed. He didn’t want to tell his friends about his mother’s letter or about the strange boy that for some reason, he wanted to know more about. “Turns out he wasn’t as much of a rump as we thought.”

“What makes you think that?” the blond boy asked. “You know he’s not like us. He hates us and he’s so rude. And weird. I mean, he’s Loony Lupin.”

In that moment, Sirius was overcome with the overwhelming urge to defend the strange boy with the kind words. But he didn’t want to upset his new friends. Maybe it was cowardly; but he didn’t want to lose his friendship. He didn’t want to lose his freedom. Not when he didn’t know how much of it he had left. And so before he knew what he was doing, he said: “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Now that I think of it he is kind of weird. And have you ever heard his accent? I can barely understand him.”

“There he is,” James said with a laugh. “I’m going to tryouts, you coming?”

He forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m coming. Just going to get a jacket.”

Remus’s piercing gaze. That was the first thing he saw as he stepped into the common room. His gaze was set and his book was closed; as if he’d known Sirius would walk in before he’d even stepped foot in the dormitory.  

“Alright, Remus?” he asked hesitantly.

“I thought you were different,” he said. His gaze was levelled and Sirius fought the urge to look away. “You called me weird, didn’t you?”

He blinked. The boy didn’t seem angry. His hands weren’t raised. He didn’t narrow his eyes at him like he’d done on the train. But there was a strange look in his eyes. Like maybe he was disappointed.

“I knew you were all the same,” he said. It sounded like the words were meant more for himself rather than Sirius. A reminder. “Two faced bastards.”

“Look,” he tried. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Remus shook his head. “You can’t do that. You can’t have it both ways, Black.”

He scoffed, breaking out of his stupor, replaced with anger; and an unusual urge to protect his kind. The strange boy wasn’t his friend. He wasn’t one of them, after all. “You said it yourself. You don't care about me. And I don’t care about you.”

Instead of the mean retort or the raised hands he expected, Remus just glared at him. “If that’s how you wanna play it, you can do that. But don’t expect me to help you next time you’re crying in the fucking bathroom.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the words sent a pang in his chest. But he schooled his features. The last thing he needed was for Remus to see him weak again. So he took a deep breath, and said; “Whatever, Loony Lupin.”

He’d expected to feel a sense of accomplishment at the argument, or at least disgust towards the boy. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t scrunched his nose at the boy’s impoverished accent or grubby robes. In fact, he quite liked the boy’s lack of fancy words and almost brutal honesty. But he pushed the thought away as he stepped into the common room. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

“You okay? You took a long time there,” James asked. “You didn’t even bring that jacket.”

“Oh.” His cheeks heated. “I must’ve gotten distracted. I don’t need it.”

He laughed. “C’mon, mate. I’m going to be late.”

“To the quidditch tryouts you’re not even allowed to go to?” Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

The olive-skinned boy pushed him aside, even though the bright smile he always wore was ever-present on his face. “Shove off.”

But as Sirius sat outside on the cold bench in the harsh breeze, all he could think about were those piercing eyes digging through his skin.

I thought you were different.

He thought of the old coffee shop and the boy’s smile as he spoke of his home and the kind words he’d told him on the bathroom floor. He thought of that day on the train and the potions class. You don’t care about me, Sirius. And I don’t care about you. 

The boy had said those words with such certainty; like he knew each of their places in the world and that nothing could change that. But now everything seems so distorted. I thought you were different.

Even the freezing cold numbing his fingertips and making him shiver hadn’t eased the voices. Sirius almost wished he’d gone back for his jacket.

I don’t care about you. I thought you were different. Failure. Failure. 

It’s not the baby’s fault. It’s just how it is, I guess.

The blond haired boy must’ve seen the weird look on his face because he turned to face Sirius nervously. “All good?”

“All good,” he answered. “Just focused on the game.”

“Really?” he asked. “It didn’t seem like you were looking at the game at all.”

He looked towards the big green field. The players wore thick goggles to keep their vision from being obstructed during the cold. He spotted James, flying on the side of the pitch, a mad smirk on his face as he saw what looked like a third year struggling to mount his broom. Secretly, he felt quite bad for the struggling boy, especially when he saw the sharp glare the captain was sending his way.

James seemed to be having fun, though. He was soaring through the sky and making laps around the pitch.

But as much as Sirius wanted to forget, to watch his best friend speed around the pitch without a care in the world, his mind couldn’t help shifting to those intense eyes firing into his. I thought you were different.

He looked down at his lap. His nails were shrubs; bitten down to the core. It was a shameful habit, really. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop. He took a deep breath.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We could always go up to the common room,” Peter offered. “I’m sure James wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m alright, Peter.” The words came out louder than he intended. Maybe it was because he was having trouble believing it himself.

Peter didn’t press the matter anymore.

And so he spent the rest of that afternoon in the large quidditch pitch, enveloped in the cold, trying to focus on the flying dot in the sky, and forget the words and the letter and those disappointed eyes.

At first, when he saw it, he thought he was imagining it. He thought that perhaps he went mad because of the cold and the sun that was beginning to set. But when Peter gasped, he knew it was true.

 It was small. But it was a spark. It exploded high in the air, in what looked like a million different colours. It was bright like the sun as it faded to a glowing orange colour. The sparks flew around for a few moments, before arranging themselves into a sentence.

Happy Halloween, you prick. And don’t you dare call me a Loony again.

He blinked. He blinked again. For some reason, the hallucination that somehow planted itself in his head wasn’t disappearing.

He blinked a third time. The words were as clear as day, illuminating the sky with orange and yellow.

He was supposed to be mad. He was supposed to be absolutely furious at the grubby boy. But he wasn’t. His lips spread into a wide grin because god, maybe he was a Loon but Remus Lupin was bloody brilliant.

Even James seemed to be grinning at the sight, the broom long forgotten on the grassy pitch. 

“This is some awesome magic,” he said dreamily, looking up into the sky. “I wonder who did this.”

“It’s obvious,” Sirius said. “It’s Rem- Lupin.”

The two boys beside him looked at him like he was the Loon. 

“How do you know?” Peter asked, eyes wide with wonder as he stared at the sky.

“What is it with you and Loony Lupin? Are you friends with him?”

 If he’s behind this, he thought, gazing up into the spark-filled sky with wonder, then I want to be.

“What’s so bad about Lupin?” He said the words nonchalantly, as if his stomach wasn’t twisting at the thought of his friend's looks when he told them. 

The blond boy shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s just- He’s Loony Lupin.”

“You shouldn’t call him that,” he said.

James squinted at Sirius. “Why shouldn’t he? He’s made fun of us on the train, he bloody yelled at you in Transfiguration, he’s always mad, not to mention all the times he disappears to the girl’s dorms all the time.”

 “Yeah. But we’ve also been pretty mean to him, too,” he said weakly. “Besides, if he’s done this, isn’t he worth becoming friends with?”

Peter looked at him suspiciously. “It’s just ‘happy halloween’, you can’t even know that it’s him. It could be a teacher for all we know.”

He looked at the orange sparks floating in the sky. The words spelled with them were still bright in the sky.

And that’s when he realised. 

Don’t be stupid. I know how to carry out my evil schemes without getting caught, Sirius.

“You smug bastard,” he muttered. But his lips were smiling at the message and the strange boy behind it.

“What is it?” James asked.

“I think Loony Lupin might be a genius.”

The moment he entered the Great Hall, he knew something was different. 

Decorative ribbons that were orange when he’d come in the morning were now red and gold under the glaze of the sunset streaming through the magiced sky—though something told him this was more than a simple trick of light— and those same words were engraved on the laces. 

He grinned.

Even James and Peter noticed the difference as they joined their friends for the halloween feast on the tall table standing in the middle of the hall.

 “Are you sure this is Lupin?” James asked, piling some roast potatoes onto his plate. “This seems like really complicated magic.”

He nodded, not looking away from the red and gold ribbons. “I’m absolutely sure, mates.”

James looked up; admiring the tapestry. “For the record, if he really did do this, he’s bloody awesome.”

“Yeah,” Sirius took a strip of beef. “Yeah, he is.”

He scanned the table, looking for the strange boy. But as he searched the crowd, Remus was once again absent. He wasn’t sitting with Lily or Mary on the other side of the long table. He wasn’t enjoying the beautiful chaos he’d created. 

Are you disappearing tonight? He’d asked.

No. Not tonight.

But no matter how much he inspected the students, he couldn’t find those mischievous amber eyes.

And so, grabbing a pumpkin spice tart for the journey, he got up from the table towards the Gryffindor common room.

“Where are you going?” James asked worriedly. “You haven’t finished your roast potatoes.”

“Not really hungry,” he told him. “I’ll see you soon, though.”

The common room was empty when Sirius walked in. It was only when he heard the flipping of pages in the distance when he knew Remus was in there. The strange boy sat on the maroon arm-chair beside the fire-place with a book propped on his knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be down there?” he asked the boy. “Enjoying your show?”

“I wouldn’t call it a show.” He didn’t raise his head from the book, but Sirius could still see the pleased smirk on his face. “It’s more like a masterpiece.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sirius noted.

Remus shrugged. “I don’t like the noise, I guess.”

The strange boy still didn’t look up from his book when he said his next words. “What’s it to you, anyways?” he asked. “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to admire my talent.”

Not knowing whether he should sit in the arm-chair beside him, he chose the safer option of leaning against the fire-place. He could feel the flames tickling his legs. It was a bit uncomfortable; but definitely an improvement from the freezing cold of the pitch.

“As much as that red and gold lace thing was brilliant, I didn’t come just for that,” he agreed.

Finally, the boy looked up. “Are you accusing me of the natural change of lighting that happens at sunset?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Sirius made a sound that was something between a sigh and a laugh. “For calling you weird earlier.”

The boy was silent as he continued. “I just got a letter from my mum, and it really got in my head; that they’re disappointed, and I’m a failure, blah, blah, blah. And I know that’s not an excuse but-”

“I meant what I said before, you know.” Remus interrupted. “It’s not your fault.”

The monster was grabbing his lungs. As if an old ache from long ago had resurfaced, making his eyes burn. He averted his gaze. “Does that mean we’re good?”

“‘Course,” he said. “I’m not going to be cross with the people I’m sharing a dorm with for the next seven years.”

“Great.” He smiled, taking a deep breath. “So are you going to show me all the cool magic you used for the halloween thing?”

Remus gave him an innocent look. “What Halloween thing?”

“You just called it a masterpiece!” he insisted.

He grinned. “I did no such thing.”

“Remus, you annoying, brilliant, bastard.”

“I know, I’m awesome. You can have a picture later,” he said with a small laugh. But his laugh was cut short and his eyes widened. “Your friends are coming.”

“James and Peter?”

The strange boy nodded as he glanced at the portrait. It took a few moments before he heard them laughing outside the portrait hole.

“Happy Halloween, lads!” James declared excitedly as the other Gryffindors made their way into their dormitories.

Sirius grinned. “Happy Halloween, James.”

“Mum brought candy!”

If it was possible, Sirius’s smile grew wider. “Oh, Mrs. Potter, you beautiful, beautiful, woman.”

“She’s taken,” James warned, but the laugh that followed told him he was joking.

“For now,” he said. “With my charm, nobody knows anymore.”

James’s eyes widened and for a moment Sirius thought he said the wrong thing. But then he burst out laughing. A loud, genuine laughter. “Tosser.”

“I bet I could seduce the giant squid if I wanted to,” Sirius bragged, as they walked into their own dormitory.

He heard someone snort from their four-poster. “I’d like to see you try.”

“You underestimate me, Remus.”

The boy’s beside him shared disbelieving looks. “Told you he was with Loon- Lupin,” the blond boy whispered to James.

“If it takes being a Loon to create the masterpiece that I have tonight, I’d choose that over the nerds with the cheering charm,” the strange boy replied, conveniently forgetting to mention that the cheering charm was his own idea.

“So you admit to creating the sparks in the sky and the changes in the ribbons?” Sirius asked.

Remus grinned. “Sparks in the sky? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been up here this whole time.”

“You’re a clever lad,” James admitted to the chestnut haired boy. 

He gave him a sweet smile. “Awe, I wish I could say the same about you.”

“Ouch.” He feigned offence. “No need to be so rude.”

Sirius laughed at the two, feeling his stomach rumbling from the lack of food he had at the Great Hall. “Now, where is this candy that the lovely Mrs. Potter has delivered for us? I don’t know about you lads, but I’m getting hungry.”

“I hid it under my bed,” James said with a smile, peering from under the wood.

Remus sighed. “Of course you did.”

Sending the strange boy a playful glare, he lifted a wrapped parcel from underneath his very messy four-poster. It was a brown paper; laced with orange and black ribbons for Halloween. He wondered if sometime, in another life, his own mother would send him parcels filled with candy and amazing sandwiches.

He didn’t want to think about that.

Peter grabbed a chocolate bar from the assortment of different treats in the box. “Bloody hell, these are good.”

“My favourite is Cadbury.” James smiled, peeling back the wrapper. “Are you gonna take one, Loony?”

This time, the name wasn’t used because the strange boy wore grubby clothes or had an impoverished accent; it wasn’t because he was mean and it wasn’t because his books were in a weird language. It was a nickname, something that was meant to put a smile on his face rather than a frown.

Remus snorted. “This ‘Loony’ thing is going to stick isn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter and James both said simultaneously.

He took a bite of a chocolate bar. “I’m screwed.”

But the fact was, as the four friends sat on the floor of the common room on the night of Halloween, they weren’t screwed. In fact, as much as October 31st was long and perhaps a bit exhausting, Sirius didn’t want to be anywhere else.