Chapter Text
The next morning came faster than he would’ve liked. He hadn’t gotten too much sleep, thanks to the nightmares that had plagued his dreams. The next four nights were a full moon phase, so he wouldn’t be sleeping then much, either.
For the first time that school year, Remus was the first of his dorm to awake. The rest of the Marauders (as well as the other two boys) were still fast asleep, snoring softly from their beds. Finding his wand, he cast a wandless Tempus and realized that it was indeed well past breakfast time, and if the other boys didn’t wake up soon, they might miss breakfast.
He dressed and showered quickly, and then, upon seeing that the rest of the room was still fast asleep, woke them lest this miss any chance to eat in the Great Hall or miss classes.
“Hmm…” Remus smirked, an idea popping into his head.
He pulled out his wand, muttered an incantation, and a jet of white light streamed from his wand to James’ back. He dived into his bed and closed the curtains to, hopefully, not be caught. A moment later, he heard the black haired boy sitting up in his bed.
“Ow! Who did that?”
Remus covered his mouth with his hands, giggling. The bed across the room made a creaking sound, and he knew James had laid back down again. Again, he muttered the incantation to the Stinging Jinx under his breath and for the second time, a white light made its way across the room, this time hitting the pureblood on the shoulder.
Shutting his curtains swiftly once more, he heard his friend pop up again, this time swearing loudly.
“Who is DOING that?”
Remus snickered quietly. Regretfully, he knew that there wasn’t much time left. Still, pranking James was too much fun. Promising himself that this would be the last time, he shot a white light toward the boy.
“Hey! Stop doing that!”
Snickering and grinning wickedly, he stepped out from behind his bed curtains as he heard Sirius wake and sit up in bed.
James gasped. “Remyyyyyy!” he pretended to wail.
Sirius poked his head out, looking all bleary eyed. “Whassamatter?”
“It’s your fault for leaving your curtains open.” Remus shrugged, addressing James. He bent down and picked up his school books to take with him to the Great Hall. “By the way, if we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss breakfast entirely.”
Sirius’ eyes widened. He glanced at James quickly, and then stared back at Remus, as if debating whether it was worth it to ask exactly what had just happened, before deciding that no, he would ask later, as Remus, of course, undoubtedly knew he would.
“Oi, Pete!” He shouted finally.
After a moment’s contemplation, Remus decided to see what would play out instead of immediately heading to the Hall on his own.
The mousy haired boy’s curtains were partly open, just enough to see that he hadn’t moved a muscle.
“Petey!” Sirius shouted again
The sleeping marauder moved his hand but remained fast asleep.
“PETER!” All three of the boys shouted.
Pettigrew’s eyes shot open. He attempted to sit up, but did not realize that he was wrapped in his blankets. Instead, he tumbled to the floor, resulting in a groan.
“Ow. My head doesn’t like me today.” Peter muttered sleepily, rubbing his eyes after finally straightening himself out and sitting up on the floor.
“Remus says that if we don’t get up now, we’re going to miss breakfast.” Sirius informed him nonchalantly, making him stand up.
“WHAT?” Peter shouted frantically, trying to pull himself out of the wrapped blankets and, once he succeeded, haphazardly threw them on the bed. “What time is it?”
Remus cast another Tempus. “ 8:30.”
“You’re kidding me!” Peter moaned, and all three boys, except for Remus who was already dressed, scurried over to their respective wardrobes to pull on their robes. During the ruckus, the two other boys opened their curtains.
“Do you idiots have to shout so loudly?” Spinnet grumbled.
“Who’s shouting? We’re not shouting; you’re just hungover.” James responded dumbly. As he spoke, the raven haired pureblood went behind his curtains, though not before Remus saw him not-so-subtly take a potion out of his suitcase.
“Oh. This is the worst hangover I’ve had in ages.”
“That was the best common room party we’ve ever had though.” The other boy, Struthers, rose from his bed, immediately going to dress after making it.
“You’re right though, it was the bomb diggity. I went all the way with a sixth year last night…” The Marauders, all dressed and ready for the day’s classes, tuned the two boys out and left for the Great Hall, not caring if the two were following.
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The Great Hall was bustling with life as always, but a noticeable atmosphere of low voices and groaning students was noticeable. As they passed and sat down, many students winked and grinned at them sharing the secret only the Slytherins seemed to be missing.
“What’s wrong, Petey? You haven’t talked much since you woke up.”
“I might have had a bit more to drink than I should have-”
“-More than just a bit, I think,” James interrupted dryly.
“-and now my head hates me for it.”
Behind them a younger student tripped on his robe and sent a couple of silver cups flying, clanking on the ground loudly and making Peter, along with various other students, cover their ears.
“And this is why I don’t drink.” Remus muttered under his breath, smirking.
Sirius gave him a weird look. “Your-” his voice dropped to a whisper on the next few words. “-furry problem senses won’t let you get drunk or hungover.”
“Yeah, but I’m still glad I chose not to drink.”
“Whatever mate. You’re missing out.” Sirius muttered as he sat down.
Peter looked like he was about to say something to James, but paused, as he saw Mcgonagall stand up and hurry toward the four.
“I don’t think Mcgonagall looks very happy.” Peter muttered.
Remus nodded and Sirius said idly, “I wonder what she wants.”
“I heard,” Professor Mcgonagall said icily, staring at Sirius and James. “That there was a huge party going on in the Gryffindor common room last night. And that you two are the instigators.”
“Well, of course there was a big party! It was Sirius’ birthday, after all.” James answered cheerily.
“But all hours of the night? With alcohol and underage students?”
“They must have snuck in, Mcgoosie. We’re not so dumb as to invite underage students.”
She attempted to hide an amused smile at the nickname. “But not smart enough to keep an eye on the faltering silence spells, meaning that the noise level would have woken the younger students, who would obviously jump at the chance to partake in partying and alcohol. Thirty points for partying at all hours of the night, and forty for sneaking in alcohol.” With that, the professor spun away, intending on going back to the head table, before she paused and turned to look at Sirius. “Oh, and happy belated birthday, Mr. Black.”
“Thank you, Professor.” The fifth year beamed.
Lily, who was sitting a few seats away and had been listening to the entire conversation, attempted to hide a snort but failed.
“What are you laughing at, Evans? You were there too, don’t you remember?”
“Oh I was there, all right, but I didn’t drink any of your illegal substances. Which is why I didn’t end up shagging you, Potter.”
“I didn’t shag anyone!” James protested.
Remus snorted, but didn’t say a word as James glared at him.
Sirius snickered. “ Everyone saw you take that poor Hufflepuff girl up to the dorm after you gave her a nice good snog by the fire, Jamesie.”
“I promise you, I never said a word,” Remus said at James’ second glare, this time intended for all three Marauders.
The Potter heir sighed, admitting defeat. “Just surprised you didn’t rat us out, Evans.”
“I may have made a special friend myself.” Lily smirked-and Remus snorted-and turned back to her food.
Seconds later, the members of the Great Hall rose unanimously. “Oh, James!” Peter said suddenly, as if remembering what he had been about to say. “You seem awfully perky for drinking more than I did last night.”
James smirked. “I swiped a Potion from old Sluggy’s personal storage last night before the party.”
“James Potter!” Remus gasped as the group turned away from the Hall.
“Relax, the fool doesn’t know it’s missing. And if he doesn’t know now, he won’t know at all.”
Remus rolled his eyes.
“So what potion did you take, Jamesie?” Peter begged, eyes glittering.
“Hangover potion.” He smirked, pulling his friends behind one of the knight statues. “Oh, and I have an extra!” the daring Gryffindor said in a singsong voice, taking a hidden vial out from beneath his robes.
“So you stole two.” Remus said flatly.
“Relax, it’s like i said: he’ll never know! Unless you plan on telling him?”
“I'll stay silent.” He answered grumpily.
“So can I have it?” Peter begged again.
“‘Course!” James said easily, handing it to Peter. Sirius, you need one?”
“You took three?”
“Four, actually, though I knew you wouldn’t need one, what with your...special senses.”
“And the fact that he doesn’t drink anyway.” Sirius added. “No, thanks though. You know that firewhiskey agrees with me.”
“Lucky you.” Peter muttered.
“Well, it pays to be prepared, doesn’t it?” James said brightly, putting an extra vial he had taken out back into his robes pocket.
“I s’pose so.” Remus answered gruffly. “Now. let’s go to History of Magic before Baracus takes away points.”
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“... and so, the Werewolf Code of Conduct of 1637 was created to give the creatures a framework for coexisting safely and legally within our community. Werewolves are required to sign a copy of the Code and promise to refrain from attacking and biting human beings. They are obliged to be locked far away from humans during their transformations and- Mr. Black! Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class?”
The note levitating above the Gryffindor’s head desintegrated to dust as the young man was caught in mid smirk, erupting giggles from the class. Sirius shook his head as James snickered loudly besides him.
"Non, Professor Baracus."
“Two points from Gryffindor.” The tall teacher adjusted his small glasses and continued. “As I was saying, werewolves are considered XXXXX creatures in their transformed form as a physical manifestation of the devil, but in my personal opinion, they might be just as dangerous once in human form. The Werewolf Registry-”
“Actually, professor, I do have a question.”
The room was once again filled with chuckling as an untidy looking Sirius stood up, scratching his back with his wand. Besides him, on the right side, Remus was fast asleep on top of his open book, and to the left side James beamed at his best mate.
“What is it, Black?”
“I don’t understand the difference between werewolves and humans. Some humans specifically.”
The already peeved teacher let out an impatient snort and turned his back momentarily.
“Black, we have been over this. Werewolves are not only humongous and ugly looking, but grow exceeding amounts of hair-”
“Then there is no difference between yourself and one, right sir?”
The angered man whipped around to see that Sirius had pulled out a shaving razor from a small sack, covered in bushy black hair. His initials, E. B. were inscripted on the handle with spidery silver letters.
“Black! Where, how…” the big head turned crimson as his teeth chattered in rage. “DETENTION! Detention twice a week until the holidays! You hear me!? Forty points from Gryffindor! Now get out of my class! Out!”
As Sirius stood up like a king and elegantly swayed himself outside, waving and blowing kisses, the classroom had already erupted into wild laughter. James was on the floor, clutching his sides as tears streamed down his face. Even a dead looking Lupin had woken up to the noise, and Lily, who kept a severe expression on their shenanigans, laughed covering her mouth.
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“Forty points? How many is that by now, four hundred? Five hundred?”
“Whatever it is, Wormtail, I don’t give a flying fuck.”
“But how on earth did you pull that off? And why didn't you tell us?”
He heard Sirius grumble something to himself, but was already too detached from the conversation to understand.
James stared down at his sketch of a Kelpie. It’s body was perfectly drawn but he had messed up its mane, resembling more to a mess of chains than to the webby hair of the creature in front of them.
The Great Lake was beginning to darken as the sun set, but many of the students had not yet completed the assignment.
Peter was still at awe by Padfoot’s stunt in Defense, but the student was already tired of the applause and seemed specifically concentrated on the animal, however boring it could be.
Remus was asleep again. He had awoken with scratches all over and a visible headache, but had not mentioned any discomfort throughout the morning at all. James could see the exhaustion in his sunken eyes and slow fingers, but more so with Baracus’s devilish lecture.
I hate that man.
No amount of prank was able to make up for the torture their friend had endured under the teacher even with few months into the year; insult after insult, all very subtle but clearly there.
They had tried everything; boogie bat hexes on the door knobs of his class, frog spawn soap, dungbombs, invisible barriers, and more than a fortune of Dr. Filibuster's fireworks. Nothing seemed to feel as enough, and prank after prank Remus would rage at them about how unimportant the bullying was.
“Remember that this one is a female, Mr. Potter. They have a longer tail. But I will give you an extra point for the detail on the neck.”
Professeur Kettleburn smiled at him and leaned to check on Remus’s own drawing, which had already been completed. He took the sheet of parchment along with James’s own copy and walked over to where the Kelpie stood.
“I’m done for the day.” muttered Sirius, standing up and stretching before jumping over to Remus. “Mooooony! Buddy! Time to wake up!”
Tired eyes blinked various times before his head cocked up, bangs still covering half his face.
“You really ought to get a haircut soon, Moons.”
“Tell that to your own hair.”
That was the Remus they knew. Sirius stepped back and put his hands in the air.
“No need to get offensive, Remy. Just saying.”
The student yawned, unintentionally showing the fangs that painfully grew in the couple of days of full moon.
“Shouldn't you go to Pomfrey already?” asked Peter, looking up to the sky. “It’s nearly dusk.”
“Yeah, yeah. Do we have any homework?”
“You’re about to feel all your bones break at the same time, cough up blood for hours and you’re worried about homework?!”
Worry flashed in the eyes of the student.
“Keep it down, Black. I’d appreciate it if nobody else knew about…”
“You're a furry little problem? That’s fine, Remy.”
If he was trying to aim for Sirius’s head, he would have still missed terribly as the empty pot of ink shattered near his own feet.
“Go now, Moony. We’ll take care of the rest.” said James, quickly mending the pot. “You look like a corpse.”
“Thanks for the support.”
As grumpy and stubborn as Remus could get during those days, he stood up with no more comments and quietly walked towards the castle, receiving a kind glance from Kettleburn. James stared down at his assignments satchel, reminding himself of their next assignments in order to give Remus a copy of his notes.
“Hey guys?”
“What is it, Peter?”
“Do you think all of the teachers know?”
“About what?”
Peter shuffled uncomfortably and leaned closer to them.
“About Remus’ you know. Thing.”
Did they?
He knew Dumbledore was a well respected man, but there was only a certain amount of trust one could have.
“Dunno. Perhaps.” he replied.
“But isn’t that a bad idea?”
“Why?”
It could be.
“What if a teacher were to open up the secret to the students?”
“Barracuda wouldn't do that.” muttered Sirius.
“How do you know, Padfoot?”
Yeah, how do you know?
“Cause Dumbledore probably made him swear that he wouldn't. And who disrespects Dumbledore?”
“Oh.”
“Besides… we’d give him hell if it happened.”
They all turned their heads simultaneously, watching as the Whomping Willow battered the edges of its branches against the wind.
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McGonagall’s office was quiet when he knocked and entered, a small fireplace emitting warmth to the alcove. He knew the place well, from the scotish carpet to the biscuit tin can.
“What’s up, McG? Still on about the party? It was huge, yeah, but nothing too illegal happened.”
Her eyes were enough to tell him how displeased she was, but her attention turned down to the scattered parchments as he sat in one of the two seats.
“Have a biscuit, Black.”
“Oh, bless you.”
He opened the can and served himself a generous amount of minty chocolate chips, nipping at them but directing his attention on the teacher. She made him wait for ten minutes while finishing her neat, small writing.
“There has been a copious amount of warnings and complaints from your teachers in the past weeks-”
“Mr. Barracuda?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m sorry. Professeur Emery Moses Cove Baracus?”
She nearly rolled her eyes.
“Yes. Professeur Baracus has informed me that not only did you disrespect him by stealing personal belongings of his, but have claimed in the past that you worship the devil.” She eyed one of the parchments and read it as if it were a list. “He mentioned that you howled at the moon naked and punctured your body while sacrificing-”
His wheeze and laughter interrupted her descriptions as tears sprung from his eyes. She gazed at him with unimpressed annoyance.
“He-he believed that?”
“You do not?
“Come on, Minnie dear. You know I don’t follow my family’s traditions.”
His laughter continued at her rather annoyed look, but there was no way of getting out of detention.
“Mr. Black, you have already reduced nearly three hundred points from our house, not to mention the rage you held on your birthday. Isn’t that enough for the year?”
“Remy can always win them back with that brain of his. At least not with Mr. Barracuda, that is.”
Her impatient expression, not unlike the one of an unimpressed mother, turned serious at the mention of the young werewolf.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you don’t know? Pity, I thought you and Remus were more intimate.”
“Mr. Black!”
“Fine, fine.” he retreated. “Baracus is a complete tosser to Remus. We have been studying werewolves for over a month even if we had already seen them in fourth year. For goodness sake, McG, he calls them ‘physical manifestations of evil’ and never loses a chance of insulting Remy.”
McGonagall looked genuinely concerned for a flash of a second before resuming her stoic and severe facade. Sirius licked his fingers, savouring the minty flavour of the last biscuit.
“Something will be done about that. But I must ask, is it true that you called the professor a…” she stared at the piece of paper. “...’hot tramp’?”
“It’s part of a good song, my dear woman. You should listen to it.”
Her unforgiving stare carved at his soul for minutes before sighing softly and adjusting her glasses.
“Fine. You may leave now, but stop calling Professeur Baracus by that name.”
“Can I still call you Hurricane Minerva?”
This time she did roll her eyes.
“Great! I’m going to dinner! Can’t worship the devil on an empty stomach.”
“Black.”
“Yes, yes, darling.”
“Get out.”