Chapter 11
James hated seeing what the full moon did to his friend.
Every month, Remus would get thinner, the bags under his eyes more pronounced. Then he’d spend two days in the infirmary, covered in brutal cuts and bruises, barely able to stay conscious after whatever he’d been through.
And James could do nothing about it.
He had an idea. A stupid, unrealistic idea. One that he’d come up with when they’d studied werewolves in their third year and learned that they weren’t affected much by other animals. What if they could become animals? Then Remus wouldn’t have to be alone, at the very least.
He’d been researching animagi since then. Sirius was fully on board and had offered several old books pilfered from the Black family library. Peter was supportive, if not overly thrilled. He seemed to think it was unlikely to succeed so it didn’t hurt to try.
Remus, at first, was entirely against the concept. Even if it was possible, he wouldn’t risk his friends for any reason. He was happy to suffer alone if it kept them safe. He certainly wouldn’t give himself the possibility of passing on his curse to any of his friends.
But, James was convincing. And Remus had eventually agreed to the plan, on the basis that he wanted to hear nothing about it until it was done.
James could work with that.
But, he’d hit a wall in his research and Professor McGonagall had denied his request to further explore the restricted section of the library. He might be able to track down a separate copy of the book he needed through his dad, but then he’d have to explain why, and that was a death wish. Fleamont Potter was not a particularly strict parent, but he would, in no way, allow his fifteen-year-old son to become an animagus. Nor would any of their parents.
So, for a variety of reasons, James Potter was frustrated and restless. He threw a miniature quaffle up into the air and caught it, over and over again, until the sound of it thwacking against his palms made Peter snap his quill in frustration.
“God, I wish there was something to do,” James lamented later, as they walked back from dinner. “Everything is so quiet since that Turner kid got hurt.”
Remus muttered something about how things didn’t feel quiet for him as he eyed the first hints of sunset in the sky. Then, he sighed.
“I’m off, it seems.” He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, and James knew it would be practically empty, except for a change of clothes and a pain potion. “Don’t burn anything down while I’m gone.”
James clapped him on the back, then watched him go with a keen sense of regret. He wasn’t one to just accept the hardships in his friends’ lives. He wanted to fix them. But there was nothing he could do to fix this.
“I heard Turner’s out of the Hospital Wing, at least,” Peter said, as the three of them continued to trudge through the halls.
“Free to stab whomever he wants now,” Sirius said, darkly. James laughed, while Peter winced.
“I don’t think he would have hurt Evans,” Peter said. “She said he seemed out of it, mostly just freaked out. He didn’t even have his wand.”
“Evans can handle herself,” Sirius admitted, shrugging. He was still bearing some resentment for their rather public argument after the Potter Play. James was, loyally, giving her the cold shoulder as well, even if he’d been upset when he’d heard about her involvement with Eric Turner’s accident.
If she hadn’t run off by herself, she wouldn’t have been in danger. But she was always running off by herself.
“Doesn’t stop her from making bad decisions though, does it?” James said as he saw Severus Snape enter the hallway opposite them. Snape sneered when he caught sight of them.
“Just the three of you, is it?” He said, his voice cruel. “I wonder where that friend of yours has wandered off to this time of the month.”
“Fuck off, Snivellus,” James snapped, raising his wand. Both Sirius and Snape mirrored him.
“Sensitive, are we?” Snape laughed. “Makes it seem a bit like you have something to hide, doesn’t it?”
“The only thing that needs to be hidden is those rotten teeth of yours,” Sirius drawled.
Snape’s face soured as he gripped his wand tighter.
“It’s three against one, Snivellus,” Sirius said. “You sure you want to pick this fight?”
Snape laughed again, it was full of ice. “You think I’m afraid of any of you? Blood traitors, beasts, and half bloods? It’s a wonder you don’t have a mudblood to round out your little group of disappointments.”
James shouted his spell before thinking, and Snape blocked it just as quickly. Sirius jumped in, binding Snape’s legs with a quick jinx.
“Flipendo!” James yelled, and Severus flew back, his legs still locked together, and slumped against the far wall, his wand rolling across the floor several feet from him. He reached for it, awkwardly dragging his legs behind him.
“What should we do to him?” Sirius asked, looking disdainfully at their opponent.
“Just leave him,” Peter said, glancing behind them down the hall.
“Pete’s right,” James said, unwillingly. “He’s not worth it.”
Sirius scowled, then looked at Snape carefully. “I’ve got an idea.”
He then crossed the hall to Snape, kicking his wand even further out of his grasp. He then crouched and whispered something that James couldn’t hear. A few moments later, he’d rejoined them, and they slipped away before Snape could send some other spell their way.
“What did you tell him?” Peter asked, and James echoed his curiosity.
“Nothing,” Sirius shrugged, looking smug. “Just what he wanted to know.”
James shook his head, still feeling miserable, and kept silent the rest of the way to their Common Room.
***
It was hours later and the moon was high in the sky when he woke up, having fallen asleep by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. None of his friends were anywhere to be seen, but he could see Alex McKinnon and Marlene Everson talking about something in the corner. He waved to them, groggily, as he sat up.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Marlene called, teasingly. At least, it sounded teasing. James had no idea what she was referring to.
“What?” He asked, stretching as he walked over to them.
“Muggle thing,” she shrugged, looking mildly embarrassed.
“I want to know,” Alex said, encouragingly, nudging her with his knee. “Just because we’re purebloods doesn’t mean we’re thick.”
“I know that,” Marlene argued, grinning at him. James smiled politely, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thoroughly distracted when he saw Peter hurrying down the stairs from their dorm, his expression anxious. He left Marlene and Alex without saying anything and crossed the room to Peter.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, and Peter wouldn’t look at him.
“Nothing. Well, I don’t know.”
James gave him a skeptical look. “Convincing.”
“I might be being too sensitive,” he began, after a long moment. “I just… Sirius told me what he said to Snape, earlier.”
James couldn’t fathom what could have gotten Peter this worked up, but he didn’t like seeing any of his friends in distress.
“What was it?”
Peter hesitated.
“Come on, Pete, you can tell me,” he said. “Sirius will probably tell me anyway.”
“He…” Peter took a deep breath, then looked at James. His expression was grave. “He told Snape how to get into the Shrieking Shack.”
It took a few seconds for the meaning of Peter’s words to sink in. A few moments after that, he was racing out of Gryffindor Tower, ignoring the shouts of surprise in his wake.
***
The blood was roaring in his ears as he reached the grounds, the cold air freezing his lungs as he ran. He’d forgotten his invisibility cloak, he’d left his coat behind, and he’d thundered through the school without a second thought.
Snape was going to find Remus. Snape was going to sneak through the passageway under the Whomping Willow to find Remus, in his full werewolf form. What Snape planned to do after that, James had no idea. And it didn’t matter. Because Remus would kill him.
There was no other option. If Snape was stupid enough to seek out a werewolf, he was almost certainly not prepared enough to survive the encounter.
James’s chest burned with the effort, as he finally saw the massive willow tree in front of him, twitching in the wind. He levitated a rock as he ran, smashing it against the spot Remus had told him about. The tree, which had been very close to crushing James for his intrusion, froze right as he slipped through the cramped hole at its base, the bark scraping against his knees until they bled.
Once he was in the passageway, he began to yell.
“Snape!” He called, desperately. “Are you there? You’re making a mistake!”
There was no response. He pushed further, having to sacrifice speed as he hunched forward, hardly able to hear anything over his own heart.
He couldn’t think about Sirius. When he did, the anger threatened to blind him.
“You can’t do this!” He shouted. “He’s going to kill you.”
He could have sworn he heard footsteps ahead of him and a muffled grunt.
“Snape?”
Another thud. He must be trying to break through the door.
“Snape, you have to stop!”
A crack. James’s heart dropped into his stomach.
Finally, he was at the end of the tunnel, he saw light coming through cracks in a wooden door, a light that was quickly smothered by massive, snapping teeth. James jumped back, unable to stop himself, nearly colliding with Snape who was almost invisible in the darkness.
“Potter,” Snape snarled, looking murderous. “Here to save your little friend?”
“Here to save you!” James shouted in frustration, looking back at the claws tearing their way through the door in front of them.
He’d never seen Remus as a werewolf. He’d wanted to. When they’d been younger and even more reckless, he’d thought that it might have been cool. To see the giant monster that gentle, tidy Remus turned into. To try to reconcile the werewolf with the boy who folded his socks.
James no longer thought it was cool. He’d never been so scared in his life. Even so, he felt a hint of guilt as he raised his wand towards one of his best friends.
“Stupefy!” He shouted, the red light blinding in the darkness. The wolf whined but did not slow. “Stupefy!” He cast again, and again, and again. Just as he thought he might be able to hold Remus back, Snape shouldered past him, knocking him hard into the wall of the passageway.
“Stop trying to steal my glory,” Snape hissed, readying his own wand.
“Glory?” James shouted. “Glory? What the fuck are you talking about, you–”
In one swoop of Remus’s elongated arm, Snape fell. He became a bleeding pile of robes on the floor, where a second before there had been an angry fifteen-year-old boy.
James, his hand shaking, raised his wand again. Remus’s head was fully visible now and looked at him with a cold kind of knowing. He didn’t know who James was, James knew that, logically. But still, Remus hesitated. And James began his onslaught anew.
With stunning spell after stunning spell, he pushed Remus back into the Shrieking Shack, until the werewolf was slumped in the corner, breathing heavily. In the second reprieve that gave him, he jumped back through the broken door, repaired it with a flick of his wand, and went to Snape.
He was alive. They needed to get out of here for him to stay that way.
With a heave, James pulled Snape’s arm over his shoulder, and half ran, half dragged the other boy through the passage, ignoring the mournful howls of the friend he’d left behind.
He could barely think as he pulled them both through the Whomping Willow and carried Snape the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing. Everything was going wrong. Remus would be blamed for this, he could be kicked out of school. Sirius, too, if he told the truth. Snape might die. He couldn’t deal with the tidal waves of fear that were knocking him down with each step he took through the dark castle.
Madame Pomfrey, who was no stranger to being woken in the middle of the night, listened to his recounting with a shocked kind of anger. She then summoned Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore, and told him, in no uncertain words, to wait there until they decided what to do with him.
Snape was levitated into a private room, and James was alone.
***
An hour later, he was sitting, numbly, in a chair in Dumbledore’s office, holding a cup of tea that he had yet to drink from.
Dumbledore had vanished into a more private room with Sirius Black twenty minutes ago. Sirius hadn’t even looked at James. James didn’t think he could say anything to Sirius even if he wanted to.
James hadn’t ratted him out though. Sirius seemed to have done that on his own.
The door opened, and Sirius came out. Dumbledore nodded to McGonagall, before gesturing for James to join him in the other room. James did, shuffling slightly.
He, again, sat down, this time opposite the Headmaster.
“What you did tonight was very brave, James.”
He hadn’t been expecting to hear that. But he didn’t know what he’d expected.
“Professor, Sir, it wasn’t Remus’s fault,” he said, speaking quickly. “He can’t help it, he shouldn’t be expelled for this, it’s a condition. If Snape hadn’t gone down there, everything would have been fine, it’s–”
“James,” Professor Dumbledore said, raising his hand for silence. James acquiesced, swallowing hard. “James, I have no intention of expelling Mr. Lupin.” James sagged in his chair, allowing himself to feel some semblance of relief. “I am well aware of his condition and the dangers of it. I agree that it was foolishness to the extreme for Mr. Snape to try to follow him, whatever his intentions were.”
James looked down, remaining silent.
“I would like for you to tell me what happened tonight. From the beginning.”
He knew this was a test. If what he said didn’t match Sirius’s testimony, they could both be expelled. Maybe they should be.
“I… I went down to the Whomping Willow, Sir,” he began, trying to speak carefully. “Followed Snape through the passage, trying to stop him. I got there too late, he’d already begun attacking Remus, and…” He winced. “Remus swiped at him. It wasn’t a bite, I know that much. But he fell and I… I had to attack him, Sir.” He hated the trembling in his voice. “I had to stun him so many times just to get him to stop long enough for us to run. I’m sorry.”
“I do not believe Mr. Lupin will hold that against you, James.” Professor Dumbledore said, somewhat comfortingly. “Is that all you wish to tell me?”
James was angry, so angry. So unfathomably furious that someone he’d trusted with his entire world had betrayed them so completely. Had used Remus as a means to an end, as a caged beast. And, slowly, every time he’d made excuses for Sirius came back to him. Every time he’d sided with him, knowing it was wrong, making allowances for his actions. Every time he’d sworn that Sirius was nothing like his family.
Sirius was just like the rest of his family.
But James wasn’t going to sell him out.
“That’s it, Professor.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said, slowly. “I would like you to know you will be receiving an award for Special Services to the School for saving Mr. Snape’s life. I will also be ensuring that Mr. Snape does not reveal the nature of Mr. Lupin’s condition to anyone while they both remain at Hogwarts.”
James nodded, barely listening.
“I imagine you need some sleep. I’ll have Professor McGonagall escort you both back to your dorms while I wait for Mr. Snape to wake.”
It was a dismissal. James recognized it as one, and got to his feet, leaving the still-full cup of tea on Dumbledore’s desk.
“Thank you, Sir.”
***
“I’ll sleep out here tonight, shall I?” Sirius asked, quietly, as the two of them walked into the empty common room. James didn’t even look at him.
A few minutes later, his exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep.
***
James barely spoke to anyone until Remus, who was exhausted and pained from the previous night, had trudged back up to their dormitory for the night. He was grateful both Caradoc and Alex had found somewhere else to be, because he wasn’t sure how much he was able to filter his words when he saw the blank, sad look in Remus’s eyes.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, as soon as the door closed to their dorm. Peter was with them. Sirius was nowhere to be found.
“It was, though, wasn’t it?” Remus sighed, wincing as he pulled the blankets over himself. “I could have killed… God, I could have bitten him.”
The despair in his voice made James feel ill. He didn’t know what to say.
“Dumbledore said he’s not going to talk,” James said, as Peter magicked cups of tea for all three of them. “It’s going to be okay.”
Remus said nothing, just stared at the pattern of his blankets, looking numb.
The door opened, and, somehow, James knew who it was before he turned. Which is why when he saw Sirius Black, his face was already twisted into a scowl.
“Get out,” he said before Sirius could say anything.
“Let me speak,” Sirius said, sounding less sure of himself than he ever had. “Please, Remus, I didn’t mean–”
“Mean what?” James interrupted. “Mean to kill someone? Mean to use your best friend to do it?”
Remus didn’t even look up. Maybe he couldn’t.
“I’m not talking to you, James,” Sirius snapped, and crossed the room, kneeling by the foot of Remus’s bed.
“Please, Moony. I didn’t realize what would happen, I didn’t–”
“Don’t call me that,” Remus said, his voice low. “Don’t call me Moony.”
“What?”
“You don’t get to call me that anymore, Sirius.”
A heavy silence overwhelmed all four of them, the air thick with it.
“Please,” Sirius said, finally. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Remus said nothing.
“Get out, Black,” James said, harshly. “Maybe you can get the sorting hat to put you in Slytherin. It’s where you belong.”
Sirius looked at him, and, for a heartbeat, James nearly faltered. The pain was clearer on his face than it ever had been. But, a moment later, it was gone, and Sirius’s face was cold.
“Fine,” he said, straightening up. “I get it. I’m out.”
None of them said anything as Sirius walked out, the door slamming behind him.
He was out. Sirius, his best friend, his brother… was out.