It Begins
The Boys
The mist had settled in the night. With the thick curtains pulled across it was impossible to notice any difference in the world, but listening hard it was easy to notice the quiet, as though someone had thrown a heavy quilt over all the sounds. The windows were cold to the touch, and somewhere downstairs the heating pipes had started to creak, kicked into life by the coming morning. The echoes of the first few boys to wake as they pottered around, running baths and changing for morning practice could be made out in the soft morning air. Somewhere in the distance, out in the fields, a fox was howling.
Sirius was still sleeping when he woke; they hadn’t intended to fall asleep here, in his room, but if they were lucky no one would realise that Remus was missing from his bed so early. If they were lucky he’d be able to sneak back into his own dorm before anyone was awake to notice him gone. He climbed off the bed, stretching and reaching to pick up yesterday’s school shirt which he’d discarded on the floorboards hours earlier. He pulled it over his head and clambered into the armchair that faced Sirius’ bed, curling his knees up under him and resting his head against the firm, soft back of the chair, hands fiddling with the string around his wrist. On the bed the other boy was sprawled out, arms spread eagle, legs at odd angles. His breathing was steady, the gentle rise and fall of his chest like a tide coming in and out, and for a moment Remus felt that old familiar warmth creeping into the base of his stomach. He suppressed it. It was too early to be having feelings so strong.
It was getting light; soon the boarding house would stretch and throw the covers back, and the noise of a hundred teenage boys waking up and rushing for breakfast would fill the halls. He needed to extradite himself from the comfort of Sirius’ room, from the heat and familiarity of it, before it was too late, before the sunlight began to push through the curtains. Flames of light were already beginning to lick the base of the drapes, and the warmth of another body sleeping beside him had already begun to slip from Remus.
By the time Sirius woke, the room was empty and Remus had tiptoed back along the corridor to his own dorm.
The Girls
Lily had been woken by shouting. It had shaken her awake, Mary’s voice, then Marlene’s, each frantic and persistent. In the frenzy of the darkness she had thought she might be dreaming, but then a pair of hands were dragging her bodily out of bed and pulling a dressing gown around her shoulders.
‘What’s going on?!’ She had asked, terror gripping her throat.
Mary was beside her, arms around her back, ushering her from their room and out into the hallway, where a crowd of their classmates were already gathered. Pandora Lovegood exploded from the room opposite theirs, skin glittering slightly in the moonlight as though she had doused herself in the fairy dust she always carried in a bottle around her neck. To her left Clemency and Molly appeared, both in their own dressing gowns, both wearing the same panicked expression Lily knew was painted across her own face.
‘It’s alright, ladies,’ came the voice of Professor McGonagall from behind them, as they poured into a crowd and flocked towards the staircases at the end of the corridor. She swept past them, already dressed in long green trousers and a floaty emerald shirt, a long string of jewellery clattering around her neck. Her hair was swept back into a bun, delicate pieces of it pulled out around her ears. Lily felt a surge of comfort, seeing their teacher take command of the situation, herding them in a neat bee line down the stairs. Mary took Lily’s hand.
‘There’s a fire,’ she whispered. Lily’s breath caught in her throat.
‘Is everyone okay?’ She asked frantically.
‘I think so, it was the main building and the theatre, but everyone’s got to get out onto the field before it gets any worse.’
Out in the courtyard, chaos was running riot. The first years had been gathered in one corner, many of them crying, gripping teddies and the photographs of their parents that Lily knew had been ripped from their walls in the panic to get out. She and Mary and Marlene joined the line of sixth and seventh years, lined up beside the old cart shed that stood on the fringe of the forest just down from their boarding house. Dorcas was there, clutching a slightly tearful Alice, her deep brown eyes lit by the light of the flames behind them. When the three of them reached their classmates Lily took Alice, and Dorcas threw her arms around Marlene. Lily could hear them whispering comfort to one another. Then she turned, and caught sight of the fire itself.
The entire west wing of the main building, which usually rose through the sky in a swirl of white brick and tall windows, had been swallowed by smoke and flames. The little orange walled theatre to its left, where so often Lily and Marlene had watched Mary’s dance practises, was now a smouldering heap of bricks, the outline of the stage barely visible through the smog. The dorm houses, from which they’d just come, lay behind the main school, untouched by the fire for now. They were all crowded together on the front lawn, watching as one side of the school crumbled before them. In the distance Lily thought she could make out the first echo of a siren.
The Black sisters appeared, not long after, their ebony hair blending into the night so that only their deathly pale skin illuminated them in the darkness. They slunk into the crowd and disappeared, lingering just long enough for Lily to feel the chill that always seemed to follow them.
‘Bet they started it,’ Marlene whispered. Mary elbowed her in the ribs.
Now arranged in their form lines, the girls were numbered and registered, each teacher walking the length of each queue, reading from a register. The first flecks of dawn were beginning to push through the darkness by the time it was all over, and the fire engines had swung into the courtyard. They watched in awe as a team of firemen pulled hoses and poured plumes of water on the flames, the whole building groaning as though in relief. They were ushered down the crest of the hill and towards the old gym, the older girls fanning out behind the younger ones and steering them into the low building. Inside it smelt like damp and mould, but it was safe and dry, and on the low bars and mats each form group gathered. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout appeared before them, both looking a little dazed and gripping stacks of paper. There was a ripple of conversation through the crowd of girls. Mary, sat beside Lily, calmed a gaggle of crying second years behind them.
‘Girls,’ Professor McGonagall began when the last murmurs had settled down. She stood a foot taller than the other faculty members, and commanded the entire room in a moment. ‘There is no need to panic in this situation. You have all behaved exceptionally well, but unfortunately the ordeal is not quite over. As you may have observed, the main school building has been compromised by the fire, and it is therefore necessary that we relocate you all as quickly and effectively as possible.’ Lily tried to calm her pulse, which had started to rise. The idea of being sent home had been wandering around her head like the beginnings of a headache, and now it was pulsing behind her eyes, urgent and anxious. She could already hear Petunia’s teasing voice, could already feel her bony hands sinking into the flesh of Lily’s arm. This was just the ammunition she needed to make Lily’s life a living hell, just as she had for all the time they spent at home in the summer.
Professor McGonagall was still speaking, her voice caught Lily’s attention and she forced thoughts of home to the back of her mind. ‘You will all be moved to the other local schools. There are four girls’ schools in this county and the next, all of which have agreed to take a form, two co-ed schools which were willing, and a boys’ school not too far away which will accommodate the remaining form.’ At the phrase ‘boys’ school’, a wave of chatter whipped the crowd, and it was several moments before McGonagall could continue. While they waited, Lily heard Marlene whispering something to Mary, her breathy voice drifting above the sound of giggling, and after a moment a silver hip-flask, which Lily recognised instantly as Alice’s, was pushed into her hands. She suppressed a grin and took a swig, feeling the warm tingle as whiskey poured into her throat. Mary took it from her and did the same, and on the seat they were sharing they bunched a little closer, legs touching.
‘The likelihood is that this won’t need to be long term,’ Professor McGonagall went on eventually, ‘but for now I’m going to need you all to cooperate, and be as mature and respectful as you can. We have done all we can to keep each form together, and you will be spread out across local schools. I don’t want any of you to worry yourselves, you will be allowed to telephone your parents at the earliest opportunity, we have already been in contact with many of them. Each form will also take two staff members with them to their feeder school.’
‘Who gets to take Minnie?’ Marlene. Lily giggled behind her hands.
‘I really think we ought to,’ Mary replied from her other side. ‘We are her favourites after all.’
After more discussion about the size of suitcase they were each allowed to take (‘Remember girls, you are not going on holiday. No need for floppy hats or buckets and spades. You need sensible school clothes.’), and books they would need (‘You are representing the school. What we don’t want is slacking. Please ensure you take all the materials you will need.’), they were dismissed, and ushered back towards house past the fire engines and lines of firemen still calming the blaze. Some of their peers, including the ever-wicked Mary, had to be physically dragged into the building to prevent them staring for too long.
They were allowed to go back up to their dorm rooms, but only to collect suitcases with clothes and books that they would need. Out in the courtyard small rattling green buses had arrived, the kind that usually took them to the train station at the end of term to deliver them to their parents. Line by line the forms were loaded into each bus, small red nosed faces appearing at each window as they waved goodbye and were carted off into the gathering dawn.
The first and second years were going to girls’ schools not too far away; the ones Oldelm were constantly losing to in hockey, and the third years to the next county, to an old Catholic boarding school run by nuns. The fifth years were being sent even further, to St Michael’s, and the sixth and seventh years to a co-ed school down the road, a fact which had caused a great amount of excitement and a great amount of books to be substituted with hairspray and perfume. Alice, in particular, was thrilled; Mount Pleasant - the school to which they were about to transfer - was where her long term crush Frank Longbottom, the boy she fawned over at length when drunk, was a student. She gushed about him as she helped Pandora lug her suitcase onto the bus. She, Mary, Marlene and Lily had lingered behind their classmates to help lift luggage from dorms down to the courtyard. But just as they were about to drag their own suitcases - in Mary’s case, two suitcases - out onto the drive, Professor McGongagall appeared behind them, her voice frantic.
‘Girls I’m afraid there has been a mix up with the school.’ Lily turned to her, ‘Mount Pleasant don’t have enough room for any more than 60 girls, I’m afraid. They’ve already had to move some dormitories around to accommodate that many.’
Mary pulled a confused face. ‘But Professor,’ she said, ‘aren’t there 63 of us in sixth year?’
McGonagall smiled sympathetically, fiddling with the clipboard she had pressed to her chest.
‘Indeed. The three of you will not be going to Mount Pleasant with your classmates. You will instead be going to Blairmore, the boy’s school.’
Lily’s stomach did a somersault.
‘A boys’ school?’ She asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.
Professor McGonagall must have seen the terror in her eyes, because she reached out and laid a hand gently on Lily’s arm.
‘There is absolutely nothing to fear. You will be well looked after. Myself and Madam Pomfrey will both be accompanying you.’
Lily smiled gratefully at her, ignoring Mary bouncing excitedly beside her, and Marlene’s glum face.
‘We should get moving,’ McGonagall went on. ‘I shall drive us all there in my car, Poppy will follow with your luggage. Now if you’ll excuse me, I ought to see the other girls off.’
And with that she swept off in the direction of the buses, now filled with girls and ready to leave. Marlene took off after her, stopping at the door of the last bus just long enough for Dorcas to appear, her braids fluttering in the light wind as she threw her arms around Marlene. They stood swaying for a moment, face’s buried in each other’s shoulders. Lily felt a slight pang of jealousy, and squeezed Mary’s hand slightly. When Marlene rejoined them her eyes were slightly red, and she was breathing heavily.
‘This is ridiculous.’ She huffed. ‘They can’t just split us up.’
‘Yes, heaven forbid they should separate you and the love of your life,’ Mary drawled, smiling wickedly. Marlene was the one to kick, this time, though her face brightened slightly.
‘Shut up MacDonald.’ She shot back.
‘I suppose we really are going to a boys’ school, then,’ Lily said in the silence that followed.
Blairmore, the boys’ school out on the moors, had grown infamous for its unruly students and strict faculty. She had been once, when they had been allowed to visit one Christmas for a concert; she still remembered the high, cream ceilings, and ancient hallways filled with paintings of English Kings and Queens, and old clerics with long hair and high, creased brows. She remembered the fields that sprawled for miles in every direction the best; they had been covered with a thick blanket of snow when they had visited, and the image was stained into Lily’s mind, the only nice thought keeping her from despair. She remembered the students, too. She and Mary and Marlene had been 11, newly friends, and they had watched in awe as the older girls twirled their hair and batted their eyelids at dark haired boys in blue shirts and smart jackets and ironed ties. She supposed they would all be the same, the boys, smelling of rich aftershave and shoe polish and hair gel. She tried to imagine her and her two friends in lessons with them, with boys who would undoubtedly laugh at every wrong answer, correct their foolishness with teasing and arrogance. She was filled with dread.
The Boys
In his own room, Remus had changed out of yesterday’s uniform into a fresh shirt and trousers. He had showered, washed the scent of Sirius off his skin and with it, the thoughts that had been stumbling around his head all morning. When he scrubbed his arms and legs he didn’t think about Sirius’ fingernails bearing into the skin of his wrists, or Sirius’ hands, curled into his hair. He didn’t think about the way Sirius had pulled Remus’ shirt up, kissing up his stomach, eyes dark when they finally lifted. He didn’t think about the warmth of Sirius’ body sleeping next to him. Instead he thought about his lessons of the day; he had English first thing, and then Biology, and then two free periods where, if he was lucky, James would be in the mood for a walk. They’d do the usual; sneaking out into the back fields and over the broken fence, out into the meadows that lay beyond where the grass was so long it reached James’ chest and Remus’ waist. Remus would take a pack of cigarettes and James would complain at first, but eventually give in, as he always did, to lying on their back beside the lake and smoking in the afternoon light.
There was a clatter outside the door, and then it went flying open, tearing Remus from the comfort of his musings. As if he had heard Remus’ thoughts, James Potter, hair a great sprawl of dark mess on the top of his head, glasses slanted on his nose, came skittering into the room, catching hold of the bed post to stop himself sliding across the floor in his socks. He had a manic look on his eyes, half excited, half terrified. Remus sighed, waiting for the onslaught of whatever was on James’ mind.
‘There’s been a fire!’ was all he said, panting heavily.
Remus simply sat down softly on his bed and stared up at his best friend.
‘Prongs, what are you talking about?’ he asked.
James grinned, finally slowing down. He stepped closer to the bed and pushed a hand through his hair as he continued. ‘There was a fire at the girls’ school, at Oldelm. It caught fire during the night.’
The last sentence came out in one long breath, as though he had been holding it in. His dark eyes were light with frenzied excitement, and Remus couldn’t help laughing.
‘You seem surprisingly happy James,’ he said dryly. ‘Why is that exactly? It’s usually Sirius who gets excited about anarchy.’
James barked a laugh, and then sat down beside Remus. His leg was jumping with pent up energy.
‘Moony, listen to me. They’re sending some of the girls here. Four of them at least.’
Remus raised his eyebrows, finally catching on.
‘Ah,’ he said. He should have known joy like this was only elicited from James Potter when girls were involved. That or sport. Or a certain member of the year below them. ‘And that excites you so much because…’
‘Because girls, Moony!! We never see girls around here, other than the teachers.’
‘Oh you think love may ensue from a group of girls being stranded at our school because their own caught on fire. You sure know how to capitalise on tragedy, Prongs.’
James just grinned.
Peter appeared in the doorway suddenly, his blonde hair illuminated by the morning light. His eyes were glistening blue, and at the sight of James and Remus he grinned widely.
‘What’s up with you two?’ he asked. ‘Did I interrupt a romantic moment?’
James laughed, walking towards the smaller boy and ruffling a hand through his hair.
‘Oh Wormy, don’t you know we never have romantic moments without you?’
Peter was almost blushing, pushing James back and laughing lightly.
‘I’m guessing he told you about the girls, Moony?’
‘Indeed he did. With great excitement,’ Remus replied, squinting slightly.
‘Well come downstairs,’ Peter said. ‘They’re about to arrive. And Sirius has gone mad.’
Remus sat up a little straighter. ‘What?’
‘He can’t find his school jumper and he’s losing his mind.’
Remus paused, suddenly aware of the jumper he was currently wearing, the way the sleeves rode up his arms a little too much.
‘I’m sure he’ll find it…’ he said slowly, trying to avoid drawing attention as he pulled his jumper off and fished for another one, this time his own, in his drawer. Once this was done he pulled James towards the door, where Peter was already retreating out into the hallway. ‘Come on.’
The walk over to school was cool; springtime was beginning to settle over the fields, and the scent of blossom and flowers had sweetened the whole world. James was bouncing slightly with every step, turning to grin up at Remus every few steps. Peter walked on his other side, hands in his pockets. Remus wondered if, quietly, he wasn’t just as excited as James about the prospect of girls entering their school.
The main staircase, where they were usually convened for events and visitors was packed by the time they reached it. They didn’t have far to go; the rule was that first years went to the top, then second years below them and so on. At the curve of the bannister Remus caught sight of a familiar dark haired head, and felt his whole face go red. James made a bee line for Sirius, pushing through the crowds of disgruntled looking seventh years, and grabbed Sirius by the shoulders as though they were soldiers reunited after battle. Remus watched as they performed their usual, melodramatic routine, Peter laughing mockingly as they joined the other two on the stairs. Remus tried to keep as much distance between himself and Sirius as possible, but when James stepped backwards to engage Peter in an intense argument about something, he discovered that the dark haired boy was standing almost against him. Professor Slughorn had appeared at the bottom of the stairs and was commanding the seventh years, moving students this way and that to create order, and in the hubbub of noise Remus was suddenly aware of Sirius turning to him. His breath was hot against Remus’ neck when he spoke, and a shock wave ran through his body, knocking him cold from head to toe.
‘You snuck out before I woke up,’ Sirius whispered, voice low and tempting. Remus tried desperately to calm his racing heart, but that tone was always impossible to resist. It was the tone Sirius always used when he offered to lend Remus a book that could only be found in his room, when he asked Remus to join his for a late night fag by the bike sheds, when he murmured something during a lesson before disappearing. Remus followed every time.
‘Yeah, well. I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay. Plus, I wanted to get back to my own room.’
‘You didn’t seem so keen to do so last night,’ Sirius drawled. Remus’ heart did a cartwheel. He turned towards Sirius, and found the other boy staring up into his eyes, piercing blue and unmoving. ‘Will you come back tonight?’ he asked quietly, hand skating over Remus’ which was resting on the bannister.
Remus paused, almost afraid to breathe under that stare. But then the double doors below them were swinging open, and every boy on the staircase fell silent. James appeared at Remus’ elbow, practically vibrating.
Remus did not envy the three girls that appeared through in the doorway. They had brown and green suitcases under their arms, and behind them came two older women Remus assumed were their teachers; one tall and brunette, hair pulled back into a bun. She was dressed in a long brown coat and green trousers, and had a fierce look in her eyes that momentarily reminded Remus of James’ mother as she swept the crowd of boys above her. Beside her was a slightly smaller, blonde woman with kind eyes and a long, floaty skirt. She had one arm around the tallest of the girls. This girl first caught Remus’ eye. She was tall, with long auburn hair swept over one shoulder. She was dressed in brown trousers and a matching, fur trimmed jacket. She had a wide face and bright eyes, and when she looked up Remus caught sight of the startled look on her eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. To her left was a slightly smaller girl, dressed in a short flowery skirt and blue denim jacket. Her dark afro buoyed up a pair of wide sunglasses, and her eyes were wicked, framed by purple makeup. The last girl was blonde; her face freckled and pale, and she had a thick green leather jacket thrown around her shoulders. She looked up and caught Remus eye, and lifted her head almost accusingly. They were all mesmerizingly pretty, and Remus could already feel James’ excitement peaking. He smiled, secretly, as their teachers began introducing themselves to the three girls, who had begun to look like fish pulled from water and thrown into a cage of cats. The boys around him had started to whisper to one another, others were pushing one another jovially against the bannister and the wall behind them. He sighed, trying not to catch Sirius’ eye again.
‘This can’t possibly end well,’ Peter said quietly from behind him. Remus was inclined to agree.