Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Friday, 30 May 1969

I am just a poor boy

Though my story’s seldom told

I have squandered my resistance

For a pocket full of mumbles 

Such are promises

All lies and jest

Still a man hears what he wants to hear

And disregards the rest…

Blurs of mossy stone and grazing sheep in a field whirred past the car window as Simon and Garfunkel rang through the radio. Remus yawned, rested his head on his arm, and watched the trees and grass go by their Ford Anglia. Despite his dad’s wish for a more efficient, magical way of travel, Remus’s mother preferred the scenic route. 

“Is this the right way?” his dad squinted at his map which he held upside down and mumbled, “I don’t understand how Muggles read these things.” He scratched at the stubble on his chin and adjusted his square-framed glasses. 

His mam laughed, a short and simple one that could be heard through her radiant smile. She spoke with a patient, graceful melody in her voice. “I’ve taken this route a thousand times, Lyall. I know where I’m going.” 

“I trust you,” he folded the map and stuffed it into the side compartment. “I just can’t tell where we are.”  

“You enjoy the scenery,” she smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I know, darling,” he looked at Remus through the rear-view mirror. “How are you feeling, kiddo? Are you excited?”

Remus smiled sleepily and nodded his head. 

“How much longer d’you reckon, dear?”

“Hmm,” she frowned slightly and tapped the steering wheel. “We’ll be there now in a minute.” 

Lyall relaxed into his seat and looked at Remus. “Remus, I can’t have you falling asleep back there. I’ll need help setting up the tent whenever we arrive.”

Remus just shrugged. He heard his mam give an excuse for him saying he was tired from the car ride, and then she turned up the volume on the radio. He heard his dad comment on the “ridiculous, Muggle radio” and then went back to looking out the car window as the trees became more dense.

Remus wasn’t just sleepy; he felt exhausted. The dull throb in his joints felt as if someone were pulling at them. He wanted to fall asleep but the hunger in his belly was restless. He could barely wait for dinner. This sort of aching weariness should have concerned him, but his parents had said it was fine. They would return home after a fun weekend holiday, and Remus would spend a night in their basement alone. He could only assume that this exhaustion was an unusually early onset of his pre-transformation symptoms. If Remus Lupin was anything at all, he was unusual. 

Despite all of this, he did not tell his parents about these early symptoms. He was sure it meant nothing and refused to worry them. The Lupins hadn’t taken a holiday since before he turned five. He was not about to give any sort of inkling that anything could possibly be wrong with him, or worry his mam or dad with senseless whining about how tired he felt. If anything, he wished he had more energy to be excited about this holiday, about the road trip, about the campsite. His memories of Gwydir were so far away. He was so young when they last visited, he hardly remembered the forest, or the fields. 

Since that night–his parents never referred to the incident with any more specificity–Remus was not allowed to be outside much, let alone around other children. They assured him it was for his own safety and to keep his secret hidden, but that excuse failed to help Remus feel any less alone. Any less dangerous. 

His eyelids felt heavy, and he drifted in and out of consciousness as the radio sang:

Lie-la-lie

Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie…

He’d have energy after some rest.

When Remus woke up, he completely forgot where he was. Sunlight dispersed through the green nylon walls of the tent, which he noticed was empty besides himself and his family’s things. After a few more minutes curled up at the foot of the tent, he yawned, stretched, and searched for his shoes before crawling outside. The air was chill for a late May morning.  

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” Remus found his dad at the picnic bench near their site with a newspaper in hand and crumbs on the paper plate in front of him. Remus wondered where he had gotten a newspaper. “Enjoy your rest, Sleeping Beauty?” 

Remus made a face in response and Lyall chuckled.

“Bore da, bach. Your breakfast is over by there." His mam appeared out of nowhere, and, with a peck on his forehead, she led him to the picnic tables. He sat down in front of a plate of toast spread with different kinds of jams and marmalade from the camping shop nearby. Sometimes, Remus swore Hope Lupin was magic. 

He scarfed down his toast before leaving his parents to explore the camp grounds. Despite the lingering ache in his bones, he ran up and down hills and through tall grass. He was surprised by how relaxed they were about letting him roam free without any supervision. They’d let him off the leash , Remus thought, then shook his head. His parents were probably enjoying their break from looking after their ticking time bomb of a child. 

After lunch, Remus got up and explored the area some more. He ended up by a small creek and sat absorbing the Sun’s warmth for a while. Once he got bored of that, he noticed the small flowers that Spring had sprinkled around him and decided to pick a few. He accumulated a handful of little bluebells which he gathered into a pile near the edge of the water. 

“Excuse me!” a short voice cut through the air. Remus looked up to find a tall, mousy girl around his age–maybe slightly older–with brown hair pulled into an uncomfortably tight ponytail leaning over the creek’s wooden bridge. He politely waved at her and returned to tying a blade of grass around his bouquet. 

“Hey!” the girl called, “Have you seen a little girl running around here?”

Remus looked up again and squinted at her through the bright sunlight. “Just any girl?”

“Red hair, freckles. She’s my sister, and she’s just run off.”

“Sorry, I haven’t.”

“Hmph,” she paused for a moment examining Remus with her tiny lips pursed and her eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing down there anyway?”

Remus held up his bunch of flowers.

The girl laughed, “You’re picking weeds?”

“Flowers,” Remus lowered his arm, face growing red. “For my mam.” 

All of the sudden, a girl with fiery red hair barrelled down the hill and onto the bridge.
“PET!” she squealed as she crashed into the taller girl. With a huge smile plastered on her round face, she looked up at her sister.

“Blimey, Lils! Where have you been?" For all the annoyance in her voice, Remus noticed the older girl’s features dissolve into genuine relief. 

“There was a lake over there,” the red-haired girl pointed vaguely in some direction. “And there was some sort of fishing contest, I don’t know, but there was–Oh Pet! You have to come see it! There was this cool island in the middle of the lake! It had all these tall trees, and there were people fishing. That’s where the fishing contest was, you see.”

“What?”

“A big lake, and an island in the middle, and people on the island, and they were fishing!” she buzzed, “Do you think they swam to the island with their fishing rods?” 

“No, they could probably walk there. The tide was low this morning. Or they got on a boat and sailed over.” 

“But the water was so high when I was there.” 

The older sister shrugged. “I dunno. You could ask Mrs. Baker on Monday.”

“Yeah, I will!” she beamed up at her sister then turned around and spotted Remus on the bank. “Oh! Hi there!” She gave Remus a toothy grin and waved. 

“Pet, who is that?” She leaned towards her sister.

“Oh, I dunno. Just some boy.” The younger sister turned to look at the older one in disbelief.

“You didn’t ask his name?” she lowered her voice–though not enough because Remus could still overhear. “How rude of you, Petunia!” 

Petunia just shrugged. 

The red haired girl hopped down from the bridge and skipped towards Remus, who couldn’t believe she would have any interest in him at all. He wasn’t used to any sort of attention, except from his parents who constantly worried about him. Truthfully, Remus had never made any friends, or even interacted with many kids his age before. So when this girl stuck out her hand with a brilliantly endearing smile, Remus didn’t know what else to do other than just stare back in awe. Her face, arms, and shoulders were covered in freckles, and her cheeks were pink from the sun. 

“I’m Lily,” she said after a few seconds of Remus gaping like an idiot. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Erm, it’s Remus,” he took her hand and was startled when she shook it ferociously.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Remus.” She let go of his hand and took notice of his bouquet. “Woah! Those are beautiful!”

“Thanks! For my mam, I just picked ‘em.”

“Aww, how sweet! I bet she’ll love them!” 

Remus smiled bashfully. 

“Come on, Lils.” Petunia called. “Let’s go find Mum and Dad.” 

Lily ignored her. “Can I smell them?”  Remus nodded, handing her the bouquet. Just as she inhaled, though, Remus noticed something buzzing around the flowers. 

“Wait–” 

Lily shrieked and dropped the flowers. Remus winced. 

“Blimey Lils! What are you–”

“IT WENT UP MY NOSE!”

“What?!”

“MY NOSE, PET! IT WENT UP MY NOSE! HELP ME”

Remus watched, grabbing his flowers, as Petunia rushed to her younger sister and held her shoulders while Lily attempted to snot rocket the bee out of her nose. She eventually succeeded, but the bee did not look happy. 

“Scatter!” The two sisters took off in one direction and Remus in another. After he was a ways away, he slowed to a walk and smiled to himself. 

He made his way back to his family’s campsite just in time for dinner. He handed the bouquet of bluebells to his mam–a little crushed, but she thanked him anyway and kissed his forehead. Remus had just finished telling his parents about the day’s adventures when a certain red-head popped up at their picnic table. 

“Hi!”

“Oh, hi!”

“Sorry about earlier, we didn’t mean to run away from you.” 

Remus thought that was a weird way to phrase it but decided not to think much of it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Pet and I were wondering if you’d like to play by the lake with us later?”

“Yeah! That sounds like fun,” Remus grinned. He was finally going to make friends. He was pretty sure, based on their accents, that they were from somewhere in England, but a pen-pal was probably more convenient with his condition anyway. 

“Lovely! We’ll–” Lily was cut off by her older sister calling to her.

“Lils! Come on, it’s time for dinner.” Petunia jogged over to them.

“One moment, I’m just inviting him to play with us later.” 

Petunia shook her head. “Sorry, Mum and Dad want us to stay in for the night.” 

“What?” Lily’s face fell. “But Dad said we could play by the lake.”

“I guess he changed his mind.” Petunia shrugged.

Lily turned back to Remus. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Remus smiled at her in a way he hoped was reassuring. “We’ll just play tomorrow.” Lily’s face brightened at that. 

“Yes, tomorrow. Perfect!” She waved goodbye to Remus and his parents and followed her sister back through the path to the other side of the campsite.

Remus turned back to his plate when he caught a funny look from his dad. 

“What?”

His dad smirked. “I didn’t realize my son was such a lady’s man.”

“Ew! Dad, no!” Remus was appalled.

“Lyall, don’t tease him,” his mam shook her head. “Remus just made a new friend. There’s lovely, bach.”

“Yeah! She’s just my friend.” Remus jutted his chin out. 

Lyall raised his hands in defense and chuckled. “Alright, alright. I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Remus just huffed and scarfed down the rest of his food.

Later that night, his parents slept soundly on one side of their tent, but Remus was restless. His bones felt as though they were pulling apart. His jaw pinched as he grit his teeth. Surely it was nothing. He fought to shut his eyes, but every way he turned felt uncomfortable. His parent's wouldn't have taken this holiday if they thought...

Then it struck him: What if they'd gotten it wrong? Panicked, he unzipped the tent flap, flooding the place with light. A full moon stared back at him.

“DAD! MAM!” He shook them awake. He felt his bones shifting. 

“Remus? What’s going on?” His dad reached for his glasses. His mam stirred and looked at him groggily before shifting her gaze out to the tent then quickly back to Remus.

“Lyall! The moon!” She pointed to the glaring full moon hanging over their tent.
“Shit!” Lyall jumped up and scooped Remus into his arms. But it was too late. Remus was transforming, and his vision went black. 

CRACK!

When Remus woke up, his whole body was sore. His mam cradled him as he lay on the forest floor. It didn’t take long before he realized that he couldn’t move. His eyes darted around. His cheeks were wet and he tasted– No. It was unmistakable; Remus tasted blood.
“It’s okay, Cyw.” She shushed him and calmly combed his hair with her fingers. She only called him “Cyw” when he had hurt himself, usually after the full moons when he clawed at his skin in frustration. His breath quickened as he began to remember last night. The moon. His transformation. The blood. Whose blood was it? Did he hurt someone? Where was Dad?

He could barely see through the tears welling in his eyes. Whatever force was restraining him began to wear off. “M-mam.” His jaw trembled. He realized how cold it was in the morning. “Mam, what happened? What did I do?” 

“Oh sweet Cyw, it’s okay.” She whispered, even though there was no one around but them. “This isn’t your fault. We got the date wrong, is all. It was a blue moon. We should’ve double checked, everything will be okay. Dad was able to get you far away from the campsite–”

“I taste blood,” Remus was weeping.

“You escaped his binding spell a few times and went after a stoat.” 

“You’re bleeding,” Remus stared at a small, red scratch on his mother’s shoulder. “Oh no. No, no, no. Did- did I do that?” Rocks began bubbling up in his throat. 

“Oh, this?” She held him closer. “No, my love, you could never hurt me.”

“But I did! I scratched you!” He choked on his tears. “I’m horrible.”

“Don’t say that!” She squeezed him, “You didn’t mean to, and I know that. It was all an accident.” 

She brushed his tears away, though they continued to stream. She leaned into him so that their noses touched, and whispered:  “I love you, sweet Cyw, no matter what.” He continued to cry. 

CRACK!

Lyall approached the two of them with a blanket under his arm. “The car’s all packed up. We should head back now.” Remus noticed the bloody patches over his jaw and left arm. 

“Should we drive?” Hope asked as she took the blanket from his dad and swaddled Remus with it like a baby. “I could take the car back myself, and you could teleport back to the house with him. He needs to rest.”

“Apparate,” Lyall corrected. “And no, we should stay together.” His face looked tired and stern. He didn’t look at Remus.

“It’s a really easy drive.” She pushed. “Lyall, Remus needs to sleep in a bed.” 

“No!” He sighed, removed his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hope, I’m sure no one saw, but it’s safer if we stay together. Let’s all just take the car.” 

“But he’s tired.”

“I’ll be okay,” Remus piped up, his voice small. “I think teleporting would make me sick. I can sleep in the car.” He wiped his tears and mustered every bit of energy he had left into looking brave and healthy so she would quit worrying about him. 

 The sun had barely peaked over the trees in the mountains. Somewhere, crickets chirped, and baby swallows sang for their mother. They made it back to the campsite where Remus quickly changed into some shorts and a shirt. The Lupins piled into their car and began to drive away in silence. 

Remus still clung to his blanket. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the previous night. What if they were never able to contain him? What if someone had seen him? What if he had escaped and hurt someone? He did escape, and he did hurt someone. His mam and dad had the scars to prove it. They would forever share the same silvery scars that he bore over his whole body. What if he had bitten someone? He was still small–small enough to detain with magic anyway–but his bite was deadly to Muggles. He could have given some poor soul the same curse, the same burden that he would always have. There’s no cure for lycanthropy. Remus had known that since he was five years old, since he first learned to live with his condition. What if he–

“Remus?”

He looked up at his mother’s hazel eyes-same as his-through the rear-view mirror. “Try and sleep, will you?, bach.” 

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll try.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, but those images of every “what if” flooded his mind. He snapped his eyes back open.

“Mam?” 

“Mhmm?”

“Could you turn the radio on?”

A warm smile spread across her face. “Of course, cyw.” She turned on the radio, and some muffled voice introduced the week’s No. 1 on the charts. Remus smiled, shutting his eyes. He liked this one.

Jojo was a man who thought he was a loner

But he knew it couldn’t last

Jojo left his home in Tucson, Arizona

For some California grass

Get back, get back

Get back to where you once belonged…

Chapter Text

Saturday, 26 July 1969

Go to him now, he calls you

You can’t refuse

When you ain’t got nothin’ 

You got nothin’ to lose

You’re invisible now, you got no secrets

To conceal

How does it feel?

Ah, how does it feel?

To be on your own?

With no direction home?

Like a complete unknown?

Like a rolling stone?

Summer is only good for doing absolutely nothing. Not reading. Not yard work. And definitely not unpacking boxes in a small, stale bedroom. The July sun was hot through the room’s only window. Enid had a nasty habit of barging in without so much as a knock, so Peter, ever so modest, kept his shirt on. After an unsuccessful attempt at a nap, he reached for a notebook and pencil somewhere on the floor from his little twin bed. He found it difficult to feel inspired by his current space, except for the objects inside it, so he began to sloppily sketch his desk, chair, and teddy bear. With each rough drawing, he silently thanked the objects for staying the same despite their new environment. 

There was a soft knock on his door.  

“Peter, love.” His mum cracked the door open just enough so her mousy face poked through. “I’m headed into town, do you need anything?”

“No, I’m alright.”

“Sure,” She eyed the unopened boxes covering the floor. “How about you get to unpacking those, yeah?”

“But-”

“No buts!” She tried pursing her lips in an authoritative manner. It didn't suit her. “I want these unpacked before I return.”  

He didn’t argue, but he didn’t get up either. She left him there with the door ajar. He listened for the crack of her leaving and continued moving his pencil. 

“Hiya, Rabbit.” Peter jumped at the sudden, rough voice of his older sister who stood in his doorway with her arms crossed, wearing a smug smile. 

“Merlin! Where’d you come from?”

She strolled in, uninvited, and plopped herself on Peter’s bed. “My bedroom, silly.”

“Well, you need to learn to knock.” He looked back down at his drawing. She ignored him, snatching his notebook. “Hey! Give that back!” 

“I was just admiring.” She gave his doodles an approving shrug before casually tossing it back onto the bed. 

“Can you leave?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because Mum asked me to help you unpack.”

“But you’ve barely unpacked yourself,” Peter groaned. “Why does Mum always get onto me?” 

“Mum doesn’t get onto you,” Enid said, rolling her eyes. “She asked you nicely. And it’s not like there’s much for me to unpack since I’m leaving at the end of the month.”

“Oh right,” Peter pouted, as if he hadn’t forgotten that his sister was about to leave him all alone. After a moment, he felt as though he was supposed to ask if she was excited about Hogwarts, so he did.

“Yeah!” Her face lit up, and a bit more despair settled in Peter’s chest. “Amelia wants us to room together. I’m not sure that’ll happen, though.” 

“Why not?”

“Well, she’ll be in Hufflepuff, won’t she? I mean, her brothers are in Hufflepuff.” 

“Mum was a Hufflepuff.”

“Yeah, but I don’t really see myself as one. Do you?”

“Hmm, not really.”

“I think I’ll be in Gryffindor.” She was always so headstrong, but he didn’t quite believe her. 

Their conversation went on for a little bit longer. They talked about quidditch and who would be in Enid’s year. Eventually, she dragged Peter off the bed, and they began to unpack his neglected boxes. 

“Hey, Pete?” Enid called while she organized his books. “You’ll be okay without me, yeah?” He didn’t know why she asked; it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to think about. He said “yes” because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Promise me you’ll make friends. I hear there’s a few wizarding families in town. Maybe there are some kids your age.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” He hoped this conversation would end soon. Enid never asked about how he felt. It was a silent agreement between the two of them. Mum was always the one to try and pry feelings out of them, but never Enid. 

“And if not, I’m sure you could make friends with some Muggle kids at school.”

“Not Muggles,” Peter made a face. “They’re so boring!”

“Oh, don't be like that,” she scolded. “They’re really not that bad. You’ll be around them at school all year, so you should, at the very least, make an effort to be polite.” 

Peter grunted. 

“Look, just promise me you’ll make some friends while I’m away.” She held out her pinky finger to him.
“Seriously?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Come on,” she beckoned. “Only way you’ll keep your promises.” He gave her an annoyed look before locking his pinky with hers.
“And,” she continued, tightening her grip. “You’ll have to give Mum some grace.”
“Hey!” Peter struggled to free his hand. “Let go!” She was surprisingly strong. 

“Seriously, Pete,” Enid persisted. “I know this has been hard on you, what with Dad, and the move, and everything, but it’s been really hard for Mum.”

“Well,” he mumbled. “We didn’t have to move.”

“Pete.” She said his name in a new way that he didn’t like at all, as if she knew something he didn’t and pitied him for it. “We did.”

He looked away, feeling embarrassed for some reason. Her grip was still tight around his finger.

“She doesn’t show it, especially not to you, but she cries almost every night.” Peter didn’t respond, mainly because he didn’t know how to. “So just go easy on her, will you? Do your chores. Don’t leave a mess. Be a good little rabbit.” She smiled and ruffled his hair with her free hand. Her face held so much conviction that he knew she wouldn’t let go until he agreed. He started to believe that she would be placed in Gryffindor. Enid had the most courageous heart of all the Pettigrews, he thought to himself. Not once during these past few weeks, through all the uncertainty, did she seem anxious at all.

“Alright, fine.” And they shook on it. 

“Great!” She finally let go and got up to leave. “That’s a good little rabbit.”

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

“I’ll not be doing your chores all afternoon,” she said. “Do I look like an elf”

“A bit, yeah.” Peter smirked. 

“You. little. RODENT!” She whipped around with a fiery expression and immediately reached for the pillows on his bed. 

“AH!” Peter yelped and ducked for cover as his sister chucked pillows at him. Boxes were knocked over, their contents spilled out. And Peter was pelted with pillows.

“Finish unpacking,” Enid called as she left. Peter was left on the floor. He surveyed the ruins of his bedroom. So much for unpacking and organizing. 

He went back to work, not sure what to make of it all. He’d never thought about how his mum was feeling about the move. It was her decision in the first place. They were happy in their old home with Dad. At least, Peter was fine with it all; he didn’t see what the problem was. He felt like there was something bigger, more adult, that he was supposed to understand about the situation. That’s what frustrated him the most. His mum and Enid both understood the problem and expected him to as well. Yet no one would sit him down and explain to him what was so wrong with Dad that they had to leave. No one ever told him anything! 

He shut the drawer with a little too much force; a picture frame fell off the dresser. Thankfully, it didn’t break. The picture was of him and Enid dressed up for Halloween about 4 years ago. She was a vampire with two lines of lipstick running on either side of her mouth. Peter was a bat because their mum loved to coordinate their costumes. 

Enid was Peter’s rock, but now she was leaving when things got the most unstable. Truthfully, Peter wasn’t sure he could keep his promise to make friends because he wasn’t sure he’d meet anyone who understood him as well as Enid did. He quietly decided that he’d be perfectly fine by himself anyways. 

It was almost dinner, and Peter was starving. He pulled place mats out of boxes and set the table while Enid helped Mum in the kitchen. Then he heard a knock at the door. Before he could answer it, his mum was already in the entryway. 

“Why, hello there!” He heard her say as he went back to the kitchen to grab the silverware. Enid was watching the chicken roast. 

“Who’s at the door?” She asked, eyes fixed on the oven.

“Dunno.” He shrugged. 

He could hear bits of conversation from the foyer. Whoever it was seemed talkative. Back in the dining room, he could make out more of their conversation. 

“Please don’t worry about bringing anything, Mum’s got it handled,” the cheerful, young voice said. 

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, but do tell your mother that I must bring something.” Their conversation ended, and Peter tried not to show his curiosity about the boy at the door. Thankfully, Enid asked the questions. 

“So, who was that, Mum?”

“One of our new neighbors.” She answered simply. “You know the Potters.” Peter knew of them, that they were an old wizarding family, but not much beyond that.
“Yeah, was that them?” Enid asked.

“That was their boy. James, I believe his name was.” She took another bite. “He said he was about your age, Peter.”

“Really?” Peter the interest creeping into his voice. 

Enid smiled at him. “What did he want?” 

“He invited us over for dinner tomorrow night. Such a sweet boy.” She looked up at her children who both stared at her to give up more information. “Well, eat up!”

That night, Peter stared at his bare bedroom ceiling thinking about what sort of boy James Potter would be and why on earth the Potters would want to invite the Pettigrews of all families to dinner. His parents were split up, and not to mention the amount of Squibs in their family tree. His mum had always said he wasn’t one, but Peter wasn’t convinced yet. Enid showed enough magical ability for the both of them that he wasn’t sure there’d be any left for him. Would James make fun of him? Was James the type of boy to make fun of others? What type of boy was James? What type of boy did James like to befriend? Dad was sick, Enid would leave him behind soon, and he’d be stuck by himself in a strange, new village with no one around but his mum if he didn’t make a friend. So Peter resolved to be whatever type of friend James Potter wanted to keep around. 

The following evening, his mum knocked on the giant oak door of the Potter Manor. Peter, standing behind her, pushed out an entirely random image from his head about a gust of wind knocking the three of them down the Potter’s front stairs and smashing the shepherd’s pie his mum spent all afternoon making. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, and then the door swung open. A woman with warm brown cheeks that were pronounced by her crow’s feet and smile introduced herself as Euphemia (but they should call her “Effie”) and welcomed them in. 

“We’re thrilled you could come,” she said.

“Well, thank you for the invite.” Peter’s mum replied and held up her dish, “I hope it’s no trouble, but I brought some shepherd’s pie from home.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! We’ll have plenty for the lot of us.” She took the dish from his mum, and a boy with her same complexion and a head of messy, jet black hair bounded down the stairs. “Ah, James, will you show our guests to the dining room?” 

“Sure!” Mrs. Potter left the hallway. James looked stoic standing there in his dress robes as he greeted Enid and Mrs. Pettigrew. Peter felt slightly insecure about his own shabby dress robes. Though, once he and Peter made eye contact, James grinned like static electricity. 

“Hello again, James,” his mother greeted. 

“Hi, Mrs. Pettigrew.” He made a small, rapid wave at her. 

“I want you to meet my daughter, Enid, and my son, Peter.” Enid smiled, and Peter waved awkwardly. “I believe you two are around the same age.” She posed it like a question, beckoning Peter to say something else.
“I’m nine,” he said stupidly. 

“Cool, me too.” James nodded, his eyes darted between the three of them as if several pixies were circling their heads.

“Look, Pete, you two have already got so much in common,” Enid muttered. Peter glared at her.

“Well, come on. I’ll show you to the sitting room, then.” James turned but quickly stopped in his tracks. “Oh, erm, do you mind taking off your shoes, please?” 

Their house was warm but felt cool after the summer heat. Windows that stretched almost from floor to ceiling flooded the dining room with early-evening sun. The patterned drapes and carpet, the mahogany furniture, and the dining table full of food left Peter in awe–particularly of Mrs. Potter’s ability to cook everything. They must have a house elf somewhere around here, Peter thought. And sure enough, an old elf appeared from the kitchen with Mrs. Potter to snap his fingers and fill their glasses. They met Mr. Potter who had a full, salty beard and amused eyes behind thin, square rimmed glasses. Peter liked his jokes and confidence. He noticed how James copied his dad’s stature and easy grin at the dinner table. 

Mrs. Potter’s cooking looked fairly spicy from what he could tell, but made his mouth water. She filled his plate to the brim with everything on the table. He gulped nervously, but was pleasantly surprised by the flavors. The food was indeed delicious, and not as hot as he anticipated–though, he still drank plenty of water in between bites.

The adults talked mostly about work and life in the village. The Potter’s didn’t shy away from including the kids in their conversations.

“Enid, your mother tells me that you’re headed off to Hogwarts in just a few weeks,” Mr. Potter said from across the table. “Are you excited?”

Enid nodded, finishing her bite of curry. “I’ll be riding the train with my friend Amelia.” 

“Oh, that’s so nice you’ll already have a friend with you, dear,” Mrs. Potter said. 

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll be in the same house, though.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It’ll only be a problem during Quidditch season.” Enid shrugged. 

“Oh!” Mr. Potter’s face lit up, and he leaned in. “Do you play?”

“Yes, I do! I’m thinking I’ll try to make the team in my second year.” 

“Well, good luck to you, then!”

“Which team do you support?” James chimed in. 

“The Montrose Magpies, obviously.” 

James shook his head. “It’s the Chudley Cannons for me.”

“We’ll see who’s best at the finals.”

“If your team makes it to the finals.” 

Enid gasped and mockingly placed her hand over her heart. “Do not besmirch the good name of my dear Magpies!”

“Alright, let’s change the subject, shall we?” Peter’s mum said. 

“Please!” Mrs. Potter agreed, and the two mothers laughed. Peter sighed with relief. He wasn’t all that interested in Quidditch like his sister was. He was never very good at the sport, but now he felt the urge to learn all he could about the different teams to insert himself in their conversation.

“So, James, do you attend the Muggle school here in the village?” Peter’s mum asked. 

“No,” James said. “I’m actually homeschooled.
“Ah, I see. I was only wondering if you and Peter would be in the same class.” 

James shook his head. “But my friend, Marlene, does.” James looked at Peter. “She’s really nice. You’ll like her. She’s visiting family in Ireland for the summer, but I’ll introduce you when she’s back.” 

“Yeah, that would be great.” Peter smiled awkwardly. He cringed at the idea of going to a Muggle Primary school without a magical soul around him. He felt a bit better knowing this Marlene girl would be there with him, though.

After dinner, the parents, plus Enid, talked away in the kitchen while James took Peter on a tour of the house. Though, they stopped in James’ room because he got distracted showing Peter his abundant amount of quidditch paraphernalia. Peter nodded along to whatever he said, hoping he was a convincing-enough quidditch fan to fool James. Unfortunately, Peter wasn’t much of an actor. 

“Sorry, we can talk about something else if you’d like,” James said, putting away his signed jersey. “If you’re a bit bored of the subject.”

“What! No, I just–well,” Peter struggled. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this charade. At least Enid wasn’t here to tease him for making such a fool of himself. “I–er–actually don’t really know anything about quidditch.”

Peter was terrified that James would mock him for this, but instead Peter watched as the boy’s big brown eyes grew wide with excitement. “I can teach you if you like!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’s really not as complicated as it looks. Marlene and I play together all the time. You could join us! I bet you’d make a great keeper.” James said this with such sincerity that Peter felt a pang of guilt for ever doubting him as well as the sweet warmth of belonging. 

Maybe he could make a friend or two after all. 

Chapter Text

Monday, 3 November 1969

This is Major Tom to Ground Control

I’m stepping through the door

And I’m floating in the most peculiar way

And the stars look very different today

For here

Am I sitting in a tin can

Far above the world

Planet Earth is blue

And there’s nothing I can do

Dear Sirius,

Congratulations on reaching the big double digits! I wish I could be there to celebrate with you, but alas, I’m stuck in Binns’ class going over N.E.W.T.S. material for the umpteenth time. I’m sure you and your sister will have a grand time, though. I’ll give you your present over the Christmas holiday. I think you’ll really love it. I can’t tell you what it is, but I’ve been collecting my own since I first learned about them in Muggle Studies. Have a happy birthday, Sirius!

Your favourite cousin, 

Andromeda Black

Sirius read the letter again before stuffing it in his shoe box and slipping the floorboard back in place. He combed his hair back and buttoned up his shirt. Andy got me a gift, Sirius thought, his reflection grinning back at him. He padded down the dark hall, soft enough to not disturb his father but loud enough to annoy the grumbling portraits on the wall. Maybe one of them would alert Kreacher that his master was awake, and he’d make Sirius his favorite breakfast. After all, you only turn ten once. 

As he rounded the corner to the staircase, he almost ran head first into Elladora.

“Morning, Ella,” he whispered.

“Everyone’s waiting for you in the dining room.” 

“Huh?”

“It’s already 9:30, Sirius,” She said. “You slept in.”

“Oh. Is mother angry?”

Elladora thought for a moment before answering, absentmindedly playing with her hair, “No, she doesn’t seem to be. Father asked me to wake you.”

“Right.”

“You should go wash your hands,” his sister said. “I’ll let them know you’re awake.”

At the dining table, the Blacks ate in silence as Kreacher served them toast and eggs and sausages. This morning, though, he was greeted with a smile from his mother and a “Happy Birthday, son” by his father who read the Daily Prophet. It was unusual for his parents to be in such a good mood, even if it was his birthday, and he had the beginnings of an idea start to form in his mind. 

“Mother,” Sirius prompted. “Could Ella and I go to the park?” He crossed his fingers and toes under the table. 

“You may.” Sirius grinned at his sister. “And Nina will accompany the two of you.”

“What?” Sirius exclaimed, a bit too loudly than he’d hoped for the breakfast table which garnered a warning look from both Ella and his father, “but she’s no fun, Mother.”

“Don’t complain, Sirius. You are a Black. I will not have you running about London without supervision. Now, quit pouting and eat your breakfast.”

They finished their meal in silence. His father barely touched his food. He licked a finger to turn the page. 

He and Elladora bundled up and walked down the street to Barnard Park with their nanny. He wished Andromeda was there. She would tell him all about Hogwarts and the drama from the adult side of the family. She’d even let him listen to some of her Muggle music from time to time. But he’d have to make due with boring, bland, Nina. At least he had Ella there with him. She tended to follow him around like a lost puppy, though she was less interested in what he did and more interested in the company. 

“Do you feel older?” Ella asked. 

“Hmmm,” Sirius placed a finger and a thumb on his chin and frowned, a perfect imitation of their father working in his office. “I feel like I have one more digit than you do.” He stuck out his tongue at her.
She made a face at him. “We’ll be the same age in August.”

“Yeah, but I’ll always be older than you.” He ruffled her hair. 

“Stop it!” They laughed. 

“Quit messing with your sister,” their nanny said. “Come on, you two. Let’s get going!” Her voice sounded as if she always had something stuck up her nose. They trudged along behind her, Sirius making a face at Ella who was stifling a giggle as they went. 

When they made it to the park, Sirius and Ella raced to the swings. Some Muggle kid was sitting there already, so Sirius pushed him off and got on himself. It was his birthday after all. The kid ran away crying. 

“You didn’t have to push him,” She said. 

“He had his turn on the swing,” he said. “Besides, we won’t be here long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just wait.” Sirius glanced over to where their nanny stood, watching over them. “She’ll get bored soon.”

They waited. Sirius made a bet that he could swing higher than her. She didn’t take him up on it, but he went up anyway. He almost made it all the way around. 

“Tell me you saw that!”

“Saw what?”

“Oh, come on, Elle! I went so high!”

“Wait, look!” 

“I could’ve taken flight! Like a bird! No, better! A phoenix!”

“Sirius, be quiet.” Ella pointed. “Look.”

Some woman had dragged the crying boy from earlier to their nanny. She looked angry, and their nanny was failing to apologize. 

“Go, go, go!” They slid off the swings and they ran out of the park. Sirius led them down the street, past red bricked buildings.

“Sirius, where are we going?” Ella huffed to keep up, but Sirius didn’t slow down. The quicker they got there, the more time they’d have before they were caught. Maybe they could even sneak home and blame the nanny for losing them.

“Just follow me,” he said. “We’re almost there.” 

Sirius leaped down the steps to the Canal. Elladora almost pushed him in by slamming into him on her way down.
“The Canal?” She looked at him. “That’s what you wanted to see?”

“Isn’t it cool? Look at the boats, Elle.”

“Oh, yeah. The two boats.” 

“Can you imagine living in one of those?”

“I bet it’s freezing in there.”

“We could do it.”

“Live in a boat?”

“Yeah!”

“On the Canal?”

“Well, we’d go other places, of course.”

“Like where?”

“Wherever we want!” Sirius grinned at Ella. “Like America.”

“Or Antarctica!”

“Yeah…or Antarctica.”

“I want to see the penguins.” Ella smiled, her lip trembling slightly. “We’d pack a coat, of course.”

“Of course.” 

They sat there on the edge of the canal for a moment, watching the algae float along. 

“It’s neat that the algae is still alive in this temperature,” She said, breaking the silence.

“It’s not that cold,” Sirius said, considering this. “Must be magic.”

“It’s not. It sticks around during the winter because it has to give oxygen to the fish.”

“It chooses to do that?” 

“No, but that’s just how the ecosystem works. It’s good for the fish.”

“Are we sure there even are any fish down there? It’s the Canal.” Just then, a small fish popped up to swallow a bug and plunged back into the water with a large splash. They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Sirius clutched his stomach and bent over. Tears formed in his eyes, and he could feel the beginnings of a side stitch from laughing so hard. Elladora had covered her face, grinning, and gasping for breath. It wasn’t really that funny, but, at the same time, it was the funniest thing in the whole world. 

After they settled down from their fit of giggles, Sirius asked Ella to dare him to get in the water. 

“Why?”

“I want to see how long I’d last.” 

“That’s stupid,” Ella contested. “That water is disgusting, not to mention cold.”

Sirius groaned. “It’s fairly shallow by the looks of it. Come on, I’m craving a swim.”

“I’m not daring you to jump into the Canal, Sirius.”

“Fine!” He stood up, and so did Ella. “I’ll do it anyway!” 

“Sirius, wait!”

He went to jump but Ella pulled on his coat. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground and hit with a splash of water.
“ELLE!” 

The water rippled, but nothing came out of it. Sirius felt like his heart was going to stop. 

Finally, Elle’s black hair popped out of the water. Arms and legs flailed to keep her face barely above water. 

“Elle!” Sirius felt stuck. “Umm, it’ll be okay. I’ll get you!”

“Sirius,” she gasped. “I can’t–I can barely reach!” 

“It’s okay! I got you!” His mind was blank. He scrambled to the edge and reached out to his sister. 

She was able to inch toward him. He grabbed her hand and yanked her with all his might towards him. She gripped the wall with her other hand, and Sirius helped her pull herself up. She shivered on the sidewalk.

“Are you okay?” She didn’t answer, just coughed violently.

“There you are!” They whipped around to find their nanny scowling down at them. Sirius helped Elle stand up. “Just wait until your mother hears about this–Er, why are you all wet, Elladora?”

The London air was cold and still as they walked home. Sirius travelled behind Elle and watched as she covered her face with her hands, crying and gasping for breath. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. 

When they got home, their nanny called for their mother immediately. Elle was taken to sit by a fire, and Sirius remained in the entryway. He knew he would be punished. He knew his mother could be a very scary woman. 

“TU AS MIS MON FILLE EN DANGER! TON SŒUR! TU CE COMPRENDS? NOUS T’AVONS PERMIS FÊTER! NOUS T’AVONS PERMIS ALLER AU PARC, ET TU NOUS AS INSULTÉ! POURQUOI NE PEUX TU PAS FAIRE CE QUE T’A DIT POUR UNE FOIS, ET NE BOUGEZ PAS!” She yelled, and yelled, and yelled, and Sirius kept his head down, trying not to choke on his tears. 

That night, after Sirius had finished putting on his bandages, he sat on his bedroom floor, reading Andy’s letter again and looking for any words that might make him feel better. Better about almost drowning his younger sibling? He felt nauseous. He shouldn’t be throwing himself a pity party. He wasn’t sick in bed with a cold and bruises. He deserved punishment for being such a bad kid. 

His stomach grumbled, but he wasn’t allowed outside of this room tonight. He sat with his hunger and hummed one of the Muggle songs Andromeda loved so much. He’d forgotten the words but he remembered the spacey sounds flowing in and out of each ear. It had to be a special kind of magic. 

He was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. After a moment, he got up to open it. He heard a pitter-patter of feet down the hall and looked at the plate of cold roast beef and potatoes on the ground. He chuckled a bit, wiped his eyes, then snatched up the plate and shut his door. 

When the house had grown silent and cold, Sirius put on his socks to quiet his footsteps over Elle’s room. 

Tap-tap ta-tap-tap tap-tap

He opened the door and peeked inside. Elle was sitting up in bed and rubbing her eyes. He snuck in and clicked the door shut. 

“Thanks for the leftovers,” he said. 

“You’d do the same.” She shrugged. Sirius crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked, sitting opposite her. 

“I’m okay. It’s just a head cold, no fever.”

“I’m really, really, really, really sorry, Elle! I promise it was an accident! If anyone should be sick it should be me.”

“Sirius, it’s okay! I forgive you.”

“Okay, good.” 

“I know you didn’t mean to.”

“Heh, could you tell Mother that?”

“How bad is it?” She nodded towards his leg.

“Not too awful.” Sirius lifted his pajamas to show the bloodied bandage on the lower half of his calf. 

Elle winced. “I wish she wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“It’s really nothing.” Sirius showed a smile. “Could be worse, honestly. Must be my birthday present.”

“She and father never punish me that way.”

“Way to rub it in.”

“No, I mean-”

“Just drop it, Elle.” Sirius covered up his wound and brought his knees towards his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay.” Silence fell between them, and Sirius started to feel guilty again.

“I’m sorry,” he said once more. “It was supposed to be funny. You’re my sister, I really-” He stopped talking because there was something wrong with Elle’s face. Had he said something to upset her? “Are you okay?”

She looked away and scratched at her nose. “It’s just- I dunno.” 

“What’s wrong, Elle?” Sirius pushed. He bore his eyes into hers, getting closer and closer, the way they’d always done to get a secret out of the other. 

Ella eventually pushed his face away, chuckling. “You promise not to tell anyone?”

“Promise!” He zipped his lips and smiled. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Okay, I’m not sure it’ll make much sense.”

“Elle.”

“Right okay, well, you know…I don’t always feel…I’ve been…I don’t know how to explain it.” She sighed. “It’s really hard.”

“That’s okay! Just start from the beginning.” 

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and began. “You called me ‘sister,’ which you do all the time, and it just feels wrong. It’s weird to think that you think of me as a sister.”

“But we’re family.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She took another deep breath and spoke slowly. “I don’t feel like I’m meant to be a sister, or daughter for that matter. Not not your family, just not a sister. You get it?”

Sirius shook his head. 

She thought for another moment. “Mother always tells me what sort of girl I should be, but I don’t want to be that sort of girl.”

“You don’t have to be. Andy certainly isn’t.”

“Yeah, but that’s still not it…. I don’t-” She glanced at Sirius, as if asking for permission to say something odd. He nodded. “I don’t feel like I’m meant to be any sort of girl.”

“What would you be instead?”

“I dunno.” She frowned. “I figured, maybe…I could be…a boy…like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius laughed lightly. Why would Ella ever want to be a boy? That’s the only reason their mother and father don’t punish her like they punish him. Surely they both knew that. But now that he thought about it, he never really saw “Elladora” as a very girly-girl. If anything, she always seemed silently annoyed when their mother went on her rants about becoming a “respectable young lady”. She always chose to play with Sirius and follow him around rather than sit and do whatever their older cousins did. “You really want to be a boy.” It was a statement, but it came out like a question.

He nodded very slightly, almost scared to be wrong. 

“Alright then.” Sirius grinned easily. “I guess that means we’re brothers.”

He sniffled and a smile formed from ear to ear. “Yeah, brothers.”

Chapter Text

Friday, 19 December 1969

Once there was a way 

To get back homeward

Once there was a way 

To get back home

Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry

And I will sing a lullaby

Boy,

You’re gonna carry that weight

Carry that weight a long time

Snow was falling in South Wingfield. The white flakes piled on James Potter’s knitted beanie as he wiped the fog off his glasses with his gloved hand and leaned against the barrier. His mum would probably scold him for standing so close to the railway tracks, but he wasn’t sure they were in use anymore–he’d never heard a train go by. No matter, he was there on important business. Peter and Marlene would be let out of school any minute now, and they were to rendezvous on this very overbridge. It was their last day of school before holiday, and James could hardly wait to see his friends free from the shackles of their Muggle primary school. James himself was taught at home by his mum which wasn’t bad. He enjoyed spending time with her, but he was slightly jealous of his friends’ ability to see each other on a schedule every day. Though, the three of them spent every moment that they could together.  

Marlene was blonde, Irish, and a girl. She had two younger brothers and had moved here with her family about three and a half years ago. Her competitive spirit gave James a run for his money when they raced on their brooms. James thought she was fearless. Once early on in their friendship, Marlene found a snake in the garden and let it crawl across her shoulders. She only grinned and said she’d never seen a snake that wasn’t behind glass in a zoo. 

Peter moved to town more recently. He was quiet at first, but the ice thawed quickly. James enjoyed Peter’s company. He was kind but also rather witty when he wanted to be. He and Peter would talk for hours about quidditch strategy. James could tell Peter didn’t usually enjoy playing the game so much as he loved watching and devising hypothetical plays for the other two to test out on their brooms. Many of these ideas were pretty substantial, in James’ opinion. He was told that Peter’s parents were split up and that his dad was in St. Mungo’s, but he never pressed him about it. James couldn’t imagine living with only one parent. Sometimes he caught Peter staring at his own dad, lost in thought. 

James was beginning to grow bored of waiting when he heard a voice laughing from below the overbridge. 

“What is he doing up there?” James craned over the railing to see if it was one of his friends. It wasn’t, only two of the Muggle kids from town. The one speaking was a little larger than the other and wore a green coat, and the smaller one wore brown and had a loud cackle. 

“Seems like he’s waiting on a train,” the smaller one said. 

“Do you see any packed bags? Maybe that family is finally getting out here,” the taller one sneered. 

“Shhh!” The smaller one giggled. “He might hear you.”

“Like I care! My dad says Britain’s lost all control with these foreigners.” 

James shook his head. The Potters had lived in this town for generations. This kid didn’t know what he was talking about. He began gathering snow, just enough to startle them when he threw it down, but he stopped himself. James didn’t know these boys, and they didn’t know him. He reckoned that if they did know him, they probably wouldn’t say things like that. 

“Hey!” James called down. He waved his arms and bore an inviting smile. “My friends and I are going to play in the snow later. Care to join us?”

But instead of grinning and climbing up a mound of white powder and exchanging pleasantries, the two boys below only snickered and continued walking along the path.

“What a weirdo!” James heard one of them say as he sank back down and kicked his pile of snow onto the tracks in front of him. James was not weird. They were Muggles, and he was a wizard. They were only different from each other; that was all. Still, he didn’t like the way that boy spoke about his family. Maybe he should’ve poured some snow atop their heads as a little prank. Their reactions would have been the same either way. 

“Think fast!” James heard before ice cold powder splattered against his face. 

“Marlene!” Peter yelped as he climbed up the hill. His nose was bright red from the cold, and a scarf was tucked in tightly around his neck. “You hit him square in the nose.”

“Sorry, James!” Marlene joined them as well. Her coat was unbuttoned, and she wore two blonde braids. “I’ve got to work on my aim!”

James only laughed, relieved to see his friends. “What took you two so long?”

“We were let out early today!” Peter held out a hand and helped him up. “You’re just impatient.” 

James shrugged.

“Enough with the dilly-dally, lads!” Marlene buzzed. “We must be off…to the hideout!” She whispered those last words mischievously as if someone might overhear. 

“TO THE HIDEOUT!” James and Peter exclaimed in unison, arm in arm. 

The three of them trekked to the castle ruins atop a hill. The castle was off limits for the people of the village since it was technically a safety hazard, but it made for a great make-shift quidditch pitch. James had stashed sleds there earlier that day to celebrate the first snow of winter. The afternoon was spent racing down white slopes. The scores ended up with Marlene in the lead, then James, then Peter. 

With frozen noses and toes, they trailed their sleds behind them all the way to Potter Manor for hot cocoa. 

“How’s your mother, Marlene?” James’ mum asked, sitting down. Perfectly wrapped presents sat under their tree in the corner. James soaked in the smell of cinnamon, pine, and citrus as he and Peter began their game of Exploding Snap by the fire. 

“Ma’s alright,” Marlene said as she watched their game. James had more points so far. Peter played a Bowtruckle and James a Giant Squid. 

“And your brothers, are they well?”

“Ronan’s starting school soon, and Liam, well, he’s a right dose as always.” 

His mum tutted. “That Ronan, is he showing any signs of magical ability at all?” 

“Mmmm…not that I’ve noticed.”

“Ah, well, that’s quite alright. Such a sweet boy.”

“Aye, he hasn’t learned how to be annoying yet, I suppose.”

James slammed his palm down on the matching Manticore cards, and they exploded with a loud SNAP!

“Now, how’d you manage that?” Peter sat back on his elbows on the carpet. 

“It’s all about speed.” James shrugged, reshuffling the cards for a new game. “You’ve got to be quick on your feet.”

CRACK

“That’ll be Dad.” James’ mum got up from the couch. James shot up from the carpet as well and climbed to the couch, leaning over it. His dad had been working late all week at the Ministry, but tonight, he was home early. He strode into the room and gave James' already messy head of hair a good ruffle. His mum kissed her husband on the cheek and left to put the kettle on. 

“Peter! Marlene! What a nice surprise,” He smiled looking over at them. Only James noticed the eye-bags. 

“Evening, Mr. Potter,” said Peter, standing up.

“Hiya, Mr. Monty.” Marlene waved from the floor. “James, is it our game now?”

“Sure.” James slid back onto the floor. He’d wanted to spend more time greeting his dad, but he’d be with him all night and the rest of the week anyway. 

Peter moved to make room for Marlene. 

“Peter, you fancy a game of chess?” James’ dad asked, handing over his briefcase to their House Elf, Bisky, to take to his office. 

“I dunno how to play, sir.” Peter squeaked. 

“Well, someone ought to teach you. I’ll grab a board.”

Marlene had begun to set up the cards in a circle, and James groaned. 

“What?” Marlene crossed her arms. 

“Do we have to play this version?”

“Oh, come off it, James. This one’s more fun; you’ll see.” 

James glanced over at his dad sitting at the table with Peter, explaining the pieces and the rules. “Fine, we’ll play it your way.” 

James and Marlene played round after round. They were tied by the time his mum came out of the kitchen. 

“Preference on tea, dears?” She asked. 

“Not now, Mum. I’m about to win.”

“Yeah, right!” Marlene scoffed. 

“Well, then. Chamomile for both of you.”

“Chamomile!” James spun around. 

“Yes, James.”

“Can I have some Nilgiri, please!” 

“At this hour? Absolutely not! You’ll be bouncing off the walls all night.” 

James knew there was no arguing with his mother, so he turned back to focus on winning. “Will you add plenty of honey, then? Please, please, please!”

“Alright.” His mum smiled, shaking her head. “Peter, dear, would you like a cup of tea?” 

“I like Chamomile.” He smiled. She nodded and went off. 

“You seem to understand the rules fairly well.” James heard his dad say. 

“Yes, sir. I dunno how I’m supposed to win, though.” Peter scratched his head. 

“Well, you’ll develop strategies the more you play. But, here, I’ll show you an important one. You see, in chess, your main goal is to protect the king. In order to do that, you must defend where he is most vulnerable, or weak. Now, where on the board does your king receive the most attacks?” 

Peter was silent for a moment. “The center?”

“Exactly! The center. An important part of chess is not only to set up your own pieces, but to see how your opponent sets up an attack before they make it. Do you understand?”

“Mhmm. Yes, sir.”

“So if you’re able to protect your center-”

“You protect your king.”

“Precisely! Should we set up a new game?”

SNAP! 

“I win!” Marlene exclaimed. 

James sighed. “Good game, Marls. Best two out of three?” 

His mum walked back in and handed out cups to everyone. She sat on the couch and cracked open her book as James and Marlene shuffled the cards and set up the circle. 

“I’ll admit, your way is a bit more fun,” James said. 

“Well, obviously.” Marlene grinned.

By the time the two of them finished their game–James won this time–the sun had begun to set. 

“Marlene, would you like to stay for dinner? Peter, you as well.” James’ mum set her book to the side. 

“Hmm?” Peter, who had been enraptured by his game, looked up from the chess board. 

“I’m afraid I can’t. I should be heading off.” Marlene stood. “Ma’s fixing dinner. But thank you, Mrs. Effie.”

  “Well, you be safe getting home then. James, walk her to the door, will you?” 

James nodded and got up to follow Marlene out. 

“Today was fun! Good thinking with the sleds,” Marlene said as she put on her coat and hat. 

“Yeah, it was.” James rocked on his feet waiting on her. “And we’ll have the whole week to play. I hope this snow doesn’t melt too soon.”

“Well, my whole family’s in town.” Marlene wrapped her scarf around her neck and looked at James who was trying to hide his disappointment. “I’ll send an owl if I’m not too busy, though.”  

“Yeah, cheers.”

“Oh!” Peter straightened up from his seat which alerted a dozing James who found himself drooling on the table. “Queen to D6.” 

The little white figurine slid over and whacked a pawn off the board. 

“Checkmate!” Peter exclaimed and looked to Monty. “Right?”

He nodded, smiling through his mustache.

“So, does that mean you won?” James surveyed the board. He tried to pick up on the rules as he watched but easily grew bored. At least the chess pieces were entertaining when they bashed each other over the head. 

Peter smiled. “Yeah. Fancy another game of Snap?” 

“Boys, dinner is almost ready.” Effie called before entering the room. “Peter, are you eating with us?” 

“Oh, erm-” A knock at the door cut Peter short. 

“I’ll get it!” James said, desperate to get up and move. 

He opened the door to find Enid Pettigrew standing out in the snow. He noticed her nose was red like Peter’s was as she stepped through the frame, her blonde hair tangled and squashed under a hat. 

“Alright, Potter?” 

Peter jumped up when he saw his sister. “You’re back already?”

“Yeah, didn’t mum tell you?”

“Enid, how’s Hogwarts?” James’ dad asked from the table. 

“Spectacular, Mr. Potter.” Enid lingered by the entryway. “You ready to go, Pete?”

“Do we have to go now?”

“Yes, the snow’s picking up, and Mum wanted me to come get you.” 

Peter frowned and looked at James. “Sorry, mate.” 

“It’s alright,” James grinned. He still felt energetic, but decided it was best not to argue where Peter’s family was concerned. “We’ll play Snap another time.” 

“I’ll walk the two of you into town.” James’ dad stood. “It’s dark out, and I want to hear more about your first term, Enid.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Potter.” 

James caught the slight sag in Peter’s shoulders as he followed his sister out the door after they shook goodbye. James was already plotting all the games they’d all play together for the next week as he watched the three of them go. 

Wednesday, 24 December 1969

James,

Happy Christmas Eve! I hope your holiday is going well. The snow really piled up last Friday! Could hardly believe my eyes when I woke up in the morning. Sorry I haven’t written. My whole family’s visited, you see, and I’ve been put on babysitting duty for my Aunt Caitrin. The wee thing will cry all day if you’re not holding him and making silly faces. We’ve also been trying to keep Ma’s side separate from Da’s. See, this year they’ve decided to invite everyone together. But Da’s side are all Muggles, so they have no clue about wands or brooms or anything–and Da says it’s too much of a hassle to explain it all. And Ma’s side, well, they want to pull out their wands to clean the dishes and what not–no matter how many times we explain it to them. I bet Pete’s over there now with you. Hope you two are having a good craic. I wish I could come over–honestly, it would beat sitting here with the crying babies and drunk aunts in uncles–but it’s not like I can apparate or Floo my way over. I’d walk, but Ma says the snow is too high. We could barely get our door open on Saturday. 

Stay warm, 

Marlene

James slouched on the couch, Marlene’s letter on the side table. He shouldn’t feel disappointed. He knew she’d be tied up with family matters. Peter had been good company over the weekend, though. He’d finally gotten him to fly above 2 meters on their broomsticks. But it was Christmas Eve, and the three of them were kept to their families. Except James’ dad had been called into the Ministry over the entire weekend. The previous night, James sat by the stairs after his dad had tucked him in to listen to his mum scolding her husband.

“It’s nearly midnight, Monty,” She softly chided–though not quietly enough. 

“I know, dear.”

“He stays up waiting for you to come home so he can say ‘goodnight.’ It’s not good for him.”

“Yes, I know.”

“He needs his rest, but he also needs his father. I know your work is important to you, but it’s Christmas for Godric’s sake. Monty, I need you here.”

“I know, Effie. Our son, he’s a good kid. He’s a really good kid. And I’m sorry I’ve been away, but there are rumours of an upcoming rally of sorts led by some very radical wizards. And, well, after that attack on the Squib march, Effie–look, I know I need to be home with you and James, I know it’s Christmas, and I will be home for holiday–but I need to make sure this act passes in the new year. These people are scary and serious, and they’re gaining influence. If that continues, I want to make sure the Ministry is upholding our promise to protect everyone.”

“I know that. Don’t explain it to me like I don’t know what’s been going on, Fleamont.” He heard his mum snap. “But I understand. I’m only making sure that you’re also keeping your promise to this family.”

“Of course, dear.”

James had woken up that morning to a mostly empty house except for his mum and Bisky. James had always been an only child; he should be used to boredom by now. What he wasn’t used to was this feeling of an inflating air bubble in his chest that was about to burst, that held onto him the entire day. And Marlene’s letter only made it worse.

Pete had also sent a letter that morning to wish him a Happy Christmas. It was his favorite holiday, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from feeling so blue. 

“Who’s that from?” His mum had entered the room and found her place next to him on the couch.

“Marlene,” James mumbled. “Her family’s visiting, and she’s stuck at home.”

“Ah, well, that’s good. One should spend the Holidays with family, I think.”

James grunted. He never knew he could feel so exhausted from doing absolutely nothing. 

“What’s wrong, love?” She tenderly rubbed circles into his back. 

“I’m bored.”

“I could play with you.”

“I don’t want to play.” 

“What do you want then?”

“I don’t know.” He pouted, frustrated.

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. 

“You have such sweet friends. You should write them back and wish them a Happy Christmas? I’ll let you use the owl.”

James looked up at her. The tightness that had swelled in his chest all day began to ease and he nodded. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

-Remus Lupin-

Wednesday, 1 September 1971

You thought that it could never happen

To all the people that you became

Your body lost in legend, the beast so very tame

But here, right here

Between the birthmark and the stain

Between the ocean and your open vein

Between the snowman and the rain

Once again, once again

Love calls you by your name…

The car came to a halt outside of Kings Cross Station. As his mam turned off the radio, Remus realized he wouldn’t be hearing her music for a long time–assuming there were no Muggle radios at Hogwarts. It was his first time to really see London; clouds hung above them, but it was early enough that the sun still shone freely. His dad carried his trunk out of the car, and together they ventured inside the station. 

Remus got to push his own trolley while his dad led the way to the platform. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He certainly never expected that he’d be allowed into Hogwarts, but about a month ago a strange wizard with a long, wispy beard and half-moon spectacles showed up on their doorstep Apparently this man–Dumbledore, he called himself–was the headmaster of the school, and said that Remus’ name had been on the list since the day he was born.

His dad had told Remus to go to his room while the adults had a talk. He shut his bedroom door loud enough for them to hear and snuck back behind a wall to listen in.

“Can I offer you a cup of tea, sir?” His mam asked politely. 

“Yes, I’ll have something herbal with a spot of lemon, if you don’t mind.” Dumbledore’s voice sounded old and airy to Remus. He heard the creaky hinges of the kitchen door swing open. 

“Albus,” said his dad, getting straight to business. “I’m surprised that you’ve dropped by, but you must know that there is no possible way for him to attend that school.” 

Remus had only heard his dad use that stern voice on him when he’d get into trouble. He had never heard him use it on other adults. He imagined that was how he’d address his coworkers in the Ministry; couldn’t have made him very popular. 

“Well, Lyall, as it happens, there actually is a way for young Remus to attend Hogwarts despite his condition.”

“Surely not.”

“He’s a bright young wizard.”

“He is, and he can be taught at home. Albus, you haven’t seen what comes of this boy when the full moon rises. Hope and I have learned to deal with it. We’ve kept him here, and we intend on keeping him here until it’s safe enough-”

“And when will that be? You can’t keep the young boy here forever. I guarantee you Hogwarts is the safest place for him during any full moon and is the most suitable environment for a young, gifted Wizard to hone his skills. As I recall, you excelled in each of your classes.”

“You can’t convince me by having me reminisce over my school days. This is different. Remus-he…he can’t control it yet.”

“And he may never will.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” his mam’s voice spoke, entering the living room again.  

“Hope,” his dad said. “You don’t know the consequences, the shackles that would be placed on our boy if he is found out-”

“And who’s fault is that?” She snapped. Silence lay thick over the room. She took a breath. “I’m sorry, love. The intricacies of your world, I may not understand, but, our son, I do know. He’s lonely, Lyall. We can both see that. And if Mr. Dumbledore-”

“Just Dumbledore.”

“-says it’s safe, then I believe we should let Remus go.”

There was a pause. Remus didn’t like hearing the way his parents talked about him when he wasn’t in the room; they made his life sound so depressing. 

“Okay, dear.” His dad sighed. “Albus, we’ll hear what you have to say, then make our decision.”

“As much as I respect your dedication to the boy’s safety, as his parents, I do believe we should let Remus himself decide where he’d like to spend his education. After all, he is just behind that wall there.”

Uh-oh.

“Remus?” said his mam. 

“Remus!” called his dad. “Is that you?”
Accepting he’d been discovered, he crept out from his hiding spot, his head hung. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to hear about this school.”

“It’s alright,” Dumbledore said, looking straight into his eye. The old wizard’s gaze was so piercing that Remus had to look away. “Seeing as you’ve been listening in on this conversation, I’m sure you have your own opinion on the subject.”

Remus looked up then glanced between his parents. “I want to go.”

After some more arguments, they agreed that he’d attend Hogwarts under strict rules that no one should find out about the nature of Remus’ condition. Dumbledore explained the procedure which Remus felt a bit nervous about. The security wasn’t the problem for him–though, the massive tree that flailed its branches around at any witch or wizard who ventured too close seemed a little extreme to him–it was that an old nurse who he’d never met would be tending to his wounds after each full moon. Remus always felt embarrassed by the state of his body after he transformed. His jagged scars that ran across his skin that would never fully heal were always covered up, even around his parents. What he did look forward to, though, was that he’d have the chance to make friends his age. Except, he wasn’t sure how he’d cover up where he goes every month, but he’d cross that bridge eventually. 

He was also excited to see the Wizarding world in action. His dad received the Daily Prophet, a strange newspaper with moving pictures, and had explained some aspects of the Wizarding community to Remus, but he was ecstatic to finally witness it for himself. He visited Diagon Alley with his dad and was stunned at how wondrous it all was. He didn’t get to explore it much himself, though, because his dad had left him in Ollivander’s Wand Shop–with the kooky old man who ran the place–to purchase the rest of his school things that they didn’t already have at home. Despite his strange time spent in the wand shop, his wand was probably his favourite thing he owned. Most of his books and his cauldron were all second-hand, but that wand was all his. Something about what Ollivander had said about “the wand choosing the Wizard” made Remus feel the most special. He opted to keep his wand in his pocket rather than packing it in his trunk with the rest of his things because he felt more adult. It made him feel like a real Wizard for some odd reason. 

“Alright,” his dad announced, stopping between Platforms 9 and 10. “Here we are!”

“That’s a brick wall, dear.” His mam raised an eyebrow at her husband who only gestured awkwardly at said brick wall.

“You ready, kiddo?” He asked. 

Remus nodded steadily, eyes fixed on the barrier. 

“Now, you just run straight through to the other side of the barrier, and we’ll be right behind you.”

“O-okay.” Remus took a deep breath. 

He backed up a little and started at a brisk jog, trying his best not to lose control of his trolley. He shut his eyes as he was about to make contact with the brick and suddenly he was on the other side. Bustling witches and wizards surrounded him. He was instantly overcome with dread at the thought of having to interact with so many new people. Behind them stood a massive train with the words “Hogwarts Castle” painted in bold, golden letters against the red of the engine. 

“Oh, I didn’t like that.” He heard his mam say behind him. 

His dad clapped a hand on his shoulder and guided the three of them further into the crowd toward the train. His mam knelt in front of him, holding his shoulders firmly. 

 “Ah, bach.” She kissed his forehead and patted his cheek. “Excited, are you?”

Remus shrugged. He felt the heavy weight of rocks in his throat. There was absolutely no way he was going to cry like a baby in front of all these people. 

“What’s the matter?” His mam tsked. “Come here, give me a big cwtch.” 

She held him a moment, one Remus hoped wouldn’t end for a while. When she let go and stood up, his dad ruffled his hair and smiled (almost uncomfortably). 

“You’ll do well, hear me?” It sounded more like a command to Remus than an encouragement. “My years at Hogwarts were some of the best of my life. You’ll have fun. You’re a smart kid. I’m-” He paused, his eyes flickering between Remus’. “Be careful.”

Remus nodded. This was their language. He’d be the most careful. He had to be. 

“Don’t you go mitching, now.” His mam mocked. His dad laughed so Remus did as well. “Ah, one more.” She pulled him into another hug. 

Remus didn’t ever want to let go. He didn’t want to think about all he’d miss. The smell of his dad’s coffee in the mornings. The sounds of scissors snipping away at hair. The baaing of the sheep in the fields. The clicks of metal needles as his mam knit. The ocean. The radio. The car rides into town. The small bits of magic around the house. The little things his mam insisted on keeping “regular.” Now it would all be magic this way and that which was exciting, but he’d miss the familiar. 

“You just keep on getting bigger,” his mam said, still holding onto him tightly. “Next time I see you, you'll have sprout up like a tree. We should have that Dumbledore stack books on your head to keep you from shooting up.” 

“Mam, I can hardly breathe.” 

“Sorry.” She let go and stepped back a bit, wiping her misty eyes. “You’ll write, won’t you? Every week?” 

“I will.”

The train sounded a whistle up ahead. 

“Alright,” his dad said matter-of-factly, checking his watch. “You should get a move on then.” 

Remus helped his dad load up his trunk. He gave both of his parents one last hug before stepping onto the train. He looked back at the pair of them, his dad’s arm around his mam, his mam’s tears slipping down her smiling face, both of them waving him off. He waved back, and moved forward. 

One step away from everything he’s ever known and Remus has already faced his first predicament: Where to sit. Most of the compartments were already full. He passed a few some with older, scarier looking students, some with loud exploding noises. He passed a car with a few kids that looked his age, a girl with blonde hair behind a headband and two boys, one with a round, mousy face and sandy hair, and another with warm brown skin, large glasses, and a mop of tousled black hair. The three of them were laughing, and Remus wanted to ask if he could join them. Before he could work up the courage to do so, he was knocked to the floor by another boy his age. This boy had a long nose, inky black hair that almost reached his shoulders, and a scowl pointed straight down at Remus. He couldn’t help but notice that he’d already changed into his robes, making Remus insecure about his own shabby jumper. 

“Watch it,” the boy snarled. Remus wondered for a moment when the last time this boy had taken a bath. He was absolutely buzzing. 

“Sorry, but you bumped into me,” Remus stated, getting off the floor. 

The other boy rolled his eyes. 

“Sev, is that you?” They both turned to see a red-headed girl waving at the boy. She nodded, acknowledging Remus standing behind him. “I’ve found us a place to sit. You can bring your new friend if you want.” 

Sev scoffed and gave Remus a pointed look. “I don’t think you’ll want to mix with this sort, Lily.”

“What an awful thing to say.” Lily looked affronted. “I’m sorry about him. You can join us if you’d like.”

“That’s alright, cheers.” Remus moved past the both of them trying not to look embarrassed. He smiled politely at the girl. 

He found a mostly empty car except for a backpack stowed overhead. He figured this was the best he could do. He’d start small, get to know one new person, and work his way up. No need to throw himself into a whole group of strangers. 

The compartment door slid open, and Remus looked up from his seat to see the girl who had just entered.

“Sorry,” Remus said quickly. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Everywhere else was full.” 

“No, that’s alright. I don’t mind the company.” The girl smiled at him. She wore a dwtty cardigan, and her curly black hair fit into two pigtails. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Mary, Mary Macdonald. What’s your name?”  

“Remus Lupin,” he responded and inwardly cringed at how strange his own name sounded compared to a sweet name like “Mary.” 

He didn’t fail to catch the slightest crease form between her eyebrows as he said his name. But all she said was: “Where are you from, Remus?”

And just like that, Remus had made a new friend. At least, he considered Mary to be his friend. He wasn’t sure how long you had to know someone or how much you had to know about them to truly become friends, but he enjoyed the thought. Mary was very interested to hear that he was from Wales, which surprised Remus. 

“What’s that like?” She asked, leaned forward, her large, copper eyes wide on her round face. 

“It’s…quaint.” 

He learned that Mary was from Peckham in London, and that she was Muggle-born. They discussed the Wizarding world quite a bit and their confusions about it, particularly about what Hogwarts would be like. 

“My dad said there are tons of ghosts about,” Remus said. He saw the dread flood into Mary’s face. “Not, like, mean ghosts! Not mean ghosts at all. I think they just sort of live there. Peacefully,” he added.

Mary seemed to relax a little. “I hate ghosts. My younger brother always begs our parents to let him watch old horror movies, so they have me sit there and watch with him. It’s terrifying stuff. I get nightmares.”

Remus asked her a ton of questions about living in London. He learned that she was the second eldest and had two younger siblings, and that her family had lived there for ages. 

They talked about their favourite music as well. 

“I LOVE The Beatles!” Mary gushed. “I swear, I will marry Paul McCartney one day!”

Remus laughed. “How old is he exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter! He’s so dreamy.”

“My mam also loves The Beatles. I don’t think she wants to marry any of them, though.”
“Who do you like, then?”

“Have you heard of The Who?”

“Who?” Mary cocked her head.

“No, The Who.” Remus sat on his hands to keep himself from fidgeting with excitement. Ever since he heard them on the radio last summer, he’d become completely obsessed. His mam bought him Tommy as his first record that was truly his own, and it was his most prized possession. 

“Oh yeah! I’ve heard them on the radio a few times,” Mary said. “They’re good.”

“They’re my favourite! They just released a new album too. I’ve heard one of the songs on the radio; it’s tidy.” 

Mary nodded and smiled politely. 

They spent the whole train ride in conversation. Remus thought that if talking to everyone else was as easy as talking to Mary, then he’d have no trouble making friends. 

When they pulled into the station in the little wizarding village, Remus offered to help Mary with her bag to be gentlemanly. Together, they followed the rest of the students off the train. 

“First years! This way!” called a giant of a man. Remus craned his neck to gape up at the man who smiled down at him through his long, tangly beard. “Er, hiya there.” 

They were guided to some boats which they then rode to cross a lake. Why they couldn’t just take some leisurely carriages, Remus wasn’t sure, but he didn’t complain. The castle was massive and invitingly lit up in every window. 

By the time they made their way to the entrance of the Great Hall, Remus’ stomach was growling furiously. The full moon was still a few days away, but that didn’t mean he felt any less ravenous. He tried to sniff the air as subtly as possible. 

“...if you value brawn over brains.” Remus overheard. He turned to see the greasy kid who was tamping at him earlier, “Sev,” standing with his arms crossed facing the boy with the messy hair and glasses who Remus also recognized from the train. The boy with glasses looked at the other with his chin lifted slightly, challenging him. Oh boy, Remus thought, Terms hasn’t even started and there’s already about to be a brawl.

“I suppose you won’t have a problem then,” said a new voice. “Seeing as you don’t have either.” 

A few kids laughed, and Remus looked over to see another boy, with cool black hair freshly cut just behind his ears. His posture was elegant, almost royal, but his light blue eyes had a wicked humour to them. 

That “Sev” boy whirled around, his ears turning bright red as he opened his mouth to respond. 

“May I have your attention, please.” They all turned to face a tall, severe looking woman in emerald robes. The witch introduced herself as Professor Mcgonagall and had a reedy Scottish accent. She explained how they were to follow her through the Great Hall and then be sorted into their Houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. 

Remus remembered his dad mentioning he was in Ravenclaw. He said that Ravenclaw was for the clever, Gryffindor for the brave, Hufflepuff for the loyal, and Slytherin for those with ambition. He warned Remus not to meddle with those in Slytherin; they were trouble. 

Nerves took over Remus’ appetite as the group of first years made their way through the middle of long dining tables full of older students. They all crowded near the front where Professor Mcgonagall stood atop the stone steps next to a wooden stool holding a hideous looking hat. Ych a Fi! His mam would say.

“That thing looks older than the castle itself,” Mary whispered next to him. 

Remus nodded and looked up at the table where the staff sat. He made eye-contact with Dumbledore in his silvery robes who winked at him through his half-moon spectacles. 

“When I call your name, please come forward,” Mcgonagall announced. 

They waited in stirring silence for a few moments as Mcgonagall pulled out her list.

“Sirius Black.” 

The polished boy from before strode forward as if he’d done it a million times. His robes were sleek and new. His midnight black hair curled slightly at the ends. The boy’s pale face was composed. Remus observed him as he took his seat, hands placed perfectly on his knees, ankles crossed. McGonagall perched the hat on his head, to Remus’ surprise it began whispering animatedly at the boy on the stool. He expected the other boy to look as confident as he acted, but one glance at his face told him that Black was just as worried as the rest of them. His mouth turned to a slight frown and his eyebrows drew up. He looked a bit like a scared puppy; all he needed was a tail between his legs. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat bellowed. 

The room was silent. Remus had begun to clap quietly but slowly put his hands back down. 

“What?” exclaimed a voice from the Slytherin table. 

Black looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. Mcgonagall took the hat from off his head, but still he didn’t move. She whispered something to him; only Remus could make out a “Welcome, Sirius.” 

Behind them, Dumbledore began clapping, prompting a slow, shocked clap from the rest of the room. Black finally got up and slid to the very edge of Gryffindor’s table, looking like he could shatter at any moment. 

“What was that about?” Mary whispered to Remus. 

“No idea.”