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Remus woke up the next morning, and his head was strangely quiet.
Normally, there would be static, or chaos or the impenetrable influence of a monster. Now, there was nothing. And Remus felt a slight wave of relief wash over him.
He reached up to touch his lips, and his face grew hot. He remembered the warmth of Hermione’s breath, and the feeling of her mouth on his. He could almost feel the ghost of her body, flittingly touching him.
Remus cleared his throat, and sat up quickly.
Everyone else, it seemed, was awake and rearing to go. Hogsmeade incited a sort of childlike eagerness in all of the students eligible to go, and as Remus squinted his eyes against the bright light streaming in from outside, he noticed the whiteness the window depicted.
It had snowed overnight, just as promised, and Hogwarts was wrapped up in a blanket of thick, untouched snow. Remus could not deny the slight twinge of contentment that shot through him at the sight of it.
“JAMES!” Sirius shrieked suddenly, and Remus’ head snapped to frown in the general direction of the scream. “There is a goddamn spider in the bathroom! AND I THINK IT HAS A GUN!”
He collapsed back on his bed for a fraction of a second, before throwing back the covers and dragging himself up. He raised an eyebrow, running his fingers through his hair. “Guns are what muggles use to fight. How do you know about them?”
Sirius huffed indignantly, and the sound was dramatic enough that it carried out into the room. “Please, Remus. I’m a Pureblood, not an idiot.”
“And here,” Remus replied sarcastically. “I thought those were the same thing!”
“Hey!” James cried.
He had armed himself with a pillow, his Potions book (it was quite a hefty volume) and his wand. All to go up against a spider.
Remus just stared at him. “My point still stands.”
Peter, who was sitting on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest, grinned.
James valiantly made his way into the bathroom, and there was a distinct lack of commotion, which prompted Remus to investigate.
He walked over, standing by the door, and what he saw made him roll his eyes. Both Sirius and James were sat, with the legs tucked up, on the sink countertop, terrified eyes locked on the spider on the other corner of the bathroom.
They looked at him with wide eyes. Peter poked his head around the doorframe, and cracked out laughing at how pathetic his friends were. Remus just sighed, and then a wicked idea presented itself.
“Engorgio,” he said, flicking his wand before he walked back to his bed to get dressed. In his wake, were both James’ and Sirius’ horrified screeches and Peter’s howling laughter.
He picked out his dad’s old sweater (Sirius would groan that he practically lived in it, despite the fact that he wore it more than Remus) and some jeans, and his coat and scarf. Judging by the freezing of his toes, if it was this cold inside, he couldn’t imagine how he would cope outside.
Remus stretched his neck, closing his eyes briefly. His skin felt itchy, like it was too tight for his body, and he wanted to scratch it, tear it from his bones. He flexed his fingers.
A knock at the door wrenched him from his mind.
Hermione’s voice floated through, “Please tell me you’re decent.”
Peter managed to shout a breathless, “Yes.”
The door opened, and she walked in. Remus turned to look at her, and he froze.
She was wearing a cream satin blouse, which was tucked into a knee-length brown skirt, printed with large sunflowers and thick brown tights. She clicked as she walked; her brown brogue heels tapped rhythmically. Her hair was curled and pinned back from her face. She was smiling.
Remus felt his cheeks set on fire, and he had to look away.
Hermione frowned, as whimpers and the occasional scream reached her ears. She moved towards the bathroom, peering into it, and she had to reach up to cover her mouth.
James and Sirius were still cowering by the sink, clinging onto each other and she raised an eyebrow in question. In reply, they pointed to the spider.
It was still growing by the second, evidence of the potency of Remus’ magic. Now, it was about the size of an A4 piece of paper, with long spindly legs that remained frozen in its position. Eight eyes, beady and pointed, were fixed on James and Sirius.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Oh my.”
She raised her wand and hastily muttered the counter curse, cringing as the spider shrank back to its original size (which wasn’t actually that big). She then hurried over, scooping it into her hands.
A mischievous impulse flew through her, and Hermione glanced at the two boys, who looked a little less tense. She crept closer to them, hands cupped around the insect.
James watched her wearily.
She threw it on them.
Or pretended to… But they didn’t need to know that.
The effect was instantaneous, and Sirius screeched, so loudly that Peter came rushing to the doorway to see what was going on. He doubled over almost immediately, clutching his stomach and guffawing. James leapt away from Sirius, alert eyes scanning every square inch of the bathroom to try and locate the spider.
Sirius flapped his arms up, messing up his hair. “It’s in my hair! Get it off! Get it off me! Not my hair.”
This wail continued, and his face contorted, and he closed his eyes. Hermione laughed at them, throwing an arm around Peter to support herself.
James edged unwillingly closer to his friend, distaste palpable on his face. He stood on his tiptoes, craning his neck to try and find it, without having to get too close. But it was futile. He winced, taking a step forward.
It was at that moment, that Sirius shook his head vigorously, adamantly attempting to shake himself of the spider that wasn’t actually there. James let out a girly, high-pitched sound, jumping backwards as though he’d seen a ghost. The horror in his eyes was enough to set the sobering Peter and Hermione, into another fit of hysterical laughter.
“Why would you do that?!” He demanded incredulously.
Sirius pointed at her, “Hermione! Find this spider at once!”
She gasped for breath, wiping her eyes and said, “Oh! There is no spider! I put it outside whilst you were busy screaming like little girls!”
They both paused. The only noise was Peter, who still found the situation incredibly amusing.
James straightened his glasses, looking at her expectantly as though he had misheard her.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Hermione bit her lip. “I put it on the window pane outside,” she said, indicating the small bathroom window behind them.
Sirius swallowed, suddenly composed. He flattened his hair, and offered her a stunning smile. “We knew that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sure you did.”
“We did,” James assured, moving to put his arm around Sirius’ shoulders. “It was a test.”
“A test?”
“Yes. We were testing you. On how good a friend you were,” James continued. “You failed by the way.”
Hermione laughed, shaking her head at their antics, and she turned her back on them to sit on the end of Peter’s bed. Remus refused to look at her, and he shuffled with something on his bed to distract himself.
She noticed the book sitting on the bedside table, and reached for it curiously.
“The Tales of Wizards and Knights,” she read quietly, turning it over to see the blurb.
It wasn’t one she was familiar with; the book was a Muggle fictional piece, by some author with a double barrelled name that no doubt sounded as ridiculous as it was spelt.
“It’s really good,” Peter offered. He seemed quiet and bashful. Hermione looked at him. “You can borrow it sometime if you want.”
He appeared even skinnier today, which of course made his face sallower and his ears even more obvious, regardless of the old hat he was wearing. There was something about his mousiness, she thought, that made him slightly endearing. A little like a puppy, all soft edges and mild nature, all droopy and harmless.
She nodded, smiling at him.
Both James and Sirius resumed getting ready, and within five minutes, they were all rearing to go. They made their way out of the Common Room and through the draughty corridors of the castle, chatting merrily, slowing down only when they made it outside.
Sirius hopped from one foot to the other, Cheshire grin growing wider and wider on his face.
"Does he ever stop bouncing?" Hermione asked Peter in exasperation.
He sniggered, wrinkling his nose and said matter-of-factly, "No. He runs on pure excitement."
They both watched him, and his shoulders jittered; Sirius' entire body seemed to be shaking with an adrenaline for life. Hermione raised an eyebrow, as he jumped on James' back. The taller boy huffed at the additional weight, spinning round in circles.
"I've noticed," she said dryly. Peter laughed at her, throwing his head onto her shoulder. Momentarily surprised, she froze at this undulated display of affection.
When it came to Peter, she had come to realise that where the other three were full to the brim of opinions and individuality, of everything that made them James and Sirius and Remus, Peter was half empty. He was a ghost, a flicker in the shadows of his friends. It was very rare for him to venture any further out of himself than one impartial comment every now and then.
So Hermione smiled, flopping her head down onto the top of his. Peter seemed to still, before he melted into her completely.
Maybe this was all he ever needed; someone to love and love him back.
The wind whipped their faces, picking up their scarves and ripping them away. Hermione’s hair was ravaged, and her cheeks were bitten by the frost so much so that they turned pink. She had to squint her eyes to see.
The boys weren’t fairing much better. James had to hold his glasses on his face, which was scrunched up. Remus had his head down. Sirius was spluttering, expression shrewd as he tried to protect his eyes from the ferocity of the wind. Peter looked like he was about to be blown away.
“Even if it’s temporary, it’d be nice to feel weather that didn’t make you feel so cold inside and out,” Hermione said, having to raise her voice to be heard, and she rubbed her small gloved hands up and down her arms, over the top of her thick coat. Her words entered the world in small globes of white, stilling in the air.
Remus wanted to go over to her and hug her to warm her up. Merlin knows he was warm enough. His body temperature was fluctuating almost painfully, and his skin raged from boiling hot, to the point where he was sweating, to freezing cold, in seconds. He shoved his fists into his pockets.
Sirius did though. He moved closer to her, laughing, and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her shoulders to try and warm her up. They walked quickly, making their way down the snow covered Hogwarts grounds, and onto the path that led down to Hogsmeade. He had large hands and his smile was enough to ignite a fire inside of her.
“Okay, but we totally have the next few matches in the bag!” James said, triumph dripping from every syllable. Hermione laughed.
“That’s very sure of yourself!”
“Kitten,” Sirius said. He was still close to her, and she savoured the warmth he provided. It was like he radiated heat, and she clung to him. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to look at Remus. “We are the best team Hogwarts has ever seen!”
She scoffed. Peter grinned at them.
“No, seriously darling, you may scoff, but count yourself lucky you were sorted into Gryffindor. Imagine if you were in Hufflepuff! They can’t play for shit!”
Hermione swatted him, and he nuzzled his nose into her hair, smiling.
James jumped on enthusiastically, counting the players off on his fingers, “We’ve got Frank Longbottom, giant of a guy, about six foot two, as our Keeper; he looks like one of those huge teddy bears that Muggles sell. Newton Lee is our Seeker, new to the team but a good flyer. Then there’s Lantrick Donner, fifth year, and Torple Mayborn, sixth, who are our Chasers-”
“And our awesome and legendary Quidditch captain, James Fleamont Potter!”
Hermione burst out laughing, digging her face into Sirius’ arm to try and muffle the sound, but she couldn’t help herself. Even Remus, who had previously been distant and quiet, shot them all an amused glance.
“Fleamont?”
James pursed his lips and said, “Ha ha. Yes, I know. My name is unfortunate. But at least it’s only my middle name! Think of my grandfather!”
Sirius let out a low whistle. “Poor bloke.”
“Anyway, then we’ve got Marls, who you know, obviously, and this tosser as our Beaters,” James said, clapping Sirius on the back.
He frowned, unsure what to think of this, but settled with punching his friend in the arm. They arrived at the little village, and immediately sought refuge, laughter pouring from their lips, from the harsh winter weather inside the nearest shop.
The sweet shop was a small, quaint space painted in a plethora of bright colours; bubblegum blues and candy floss pinks. The smell was also divine, sweet and sugary, and Hermione found herself smiling at the explosive atmosphere that came as a result of children and sugar being forced together.
Her eyes trailed from the huge midnight blue display of Chocolate Frogs (advertising the new limited addition card of Andretta Anglesteen- a famous Seer who predicted the last sixteen consecutive Ministers of Magic) to the large collection of swirling lollies that literally swirled. Hermione had to divert her eyes after a while for that part of the shop was incredibly bright; in fact, it looked like a rainbow had vomited all over it, for the colours were just splashes of paint and glitter, up the walls, on the floorboards, and somehow on the ceiling.
Her eyes found Lily through the crowd, and the redhead waved happily, before politely excusing herself and nudging her way around people.
James' eyes, which had been previously scanning the shop, rested on Lily too, and he watched her come closer with a kind of silent awe.
"Hermione!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around her and holding her close. When Lily pulled away, she gasped and cupped Hermione's face in her warm hands. "Gods, you're freezing! Here, let's get you warmed up."
She unravelled the thick, woolly scarf from her neck and wrapped it around Hermione. Although it was undeniably eliciting feeling into her numb cheeks, she unwillingly gave it back. "I can't take that! I mean, thank you, but I can't have it. You'll freeze!"
Lily just laughed, and the sound rang like a tinkling bell around the shop, over the din of the students. "Hermione, did you really think my mother would let me leave for Scotland with only one homemade scarf? I've got about six back in my chest. And I'm wearing one. Look." And sure enough she unbuttoned the top of her coat to reveal a second thick, knitted scarf.
Hermione encircled it back around her neck, relishing in the warmth.
Sirius grinned at Lily and said, “Evans!” Then his jaw dropped and he exclaimed, “Oh my god, those pants look great. You know where they’ll look even better? James' floor.”
No one replied. James froze. His eyes wide, as he uttered, “Are you hitting on Lily...for me?”
Lily didn't seem to know how to react. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink, and she couldn't bring herself to look at James, who looked as though he wished the ground would swallow him up. Her eyes eventually flicked to him and she seemed to turn a deeper shade of pink when she noticed his embarrassment was equal, if not more profound, than hers.
Hermione exchanged a look with Remus. It seemed like it was out of habit for them to automatically share their silent yet undoubtedly decisive opinions on the idiocy of their friends. They both looked away quickly, realising that they had both broken the promise they made to avoid one another.
Lily awkwardly bid farewell to Hermione, heading back to where Marlene and Mary stood with another girl. The girl was tall, with long brown hair and sharp brown eyes. She was chatting animatedly with Marlene, who had four separate lollies in her mouth. Somehow, Marlene still managed to look cool, and when she caught sight of Hermione, her eyes lit up and she waved enthusiastically.
Hermione let her eyes wander around the rest of the sweetshop. The group disbanded, each drifting (or in Sirius’ case bounding whilst dragging a still mortified James after him) away to a chocolate or sweet that had piqued their interest. She strolled up and down the aisles, occasionally picking out colourful beans that claimed to explode in the mouth, and laughing at the fireworks that zoomed overhead from trick chocolates.
“Mione!”
Hermione spun around and saw Peter smiling lopsidedly at her from the end of the aisle. He beckoned her over, excitement streaming from his toothy grin and wide eyes.
She felt his happiness infect her and couldn't stop the smile spreading across her own face, as she made her way towards him.
When she turned the corner, Peter was stood with his hands behind his back. Hermione felt her eyebrows pull together in mild puzzlement.
"What-?"
"Look!"
He pulled his hands out and revealed to her what he had been holding. It was a small white gobstopper, and she squinted to discern what he meant by it. Her confusion must've been obvious for Peter explained excitedly, "It's a Debilitator!"
Hermione's face turned incredulous. "A what?"
"A Debilitator!" He repeated. His eyes shone. A hint of a laugh made his voice waver. "It completely shuts people down! If someone's annoying you or being too loud, you stick in in their drink or food and it'll magically dissolve into it and drug them and incapacitate them and calm them down- it’s like a stupefy in a gobstopper!"
He said this all in one breath but Hermione understood immediately. She burst out laughing, clutching her mouth. The object of their conversation poked his head over one of the shelves, frowning curiously at them. Sirius’ head was moving up and down slightly, proof to their need of the gobstopper, causing both Hermione and Peter to glance at each other and laugh even harder.
“Oh Pete,” she cried, and she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a bear hug.
When she let go, Peter looked deliriously happy, and his face and neck were red. Sirius was watching them softly.
Peter bounced off to get some more, leaving Hermione behind. She looked to Sirius, and his dark eyes were unbelievably gentle. She averted her gaze up the aisle
There, she saw Remus. He had his back to her, his hands deep in his pockets, and he was staring at a huge wall of chocolates.
"Hi," Hermione said, making her way up to stand beside him.
He turned to look at her. "Hello."
It was then that she realised that she didn't really have anything to say, and was glad that he almost instantly turned back to survey the chocolates.
And yet, something nibbled at her, and she felt a need to make conversation.
"Do you like chocolate?"
"Yes."
Hermione bit her lip to hold back a sigh. She was trying for God's sake! Why couldn't he cooperate?
"Which is your favourite?"
Remus sucked in his lips and said, "I don't know."
She pursed hers, closing her eyes to calm down, and let the frustration ebb away. "Are you buying any?"
He sighed, and the slight pain in the exhalation of air made her look at him. "I don't know."
Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes and she lifted her cold hands up to her mouth to blow warm air onto her still freezing fingers. "You don't know?"
He didn't reply, and when she looked at him, she could clearly see the indecision etched like agony across his face. He was conflicted over something, but what, Hermione had no idea.
Abruptly, Remus started talking in a tone that was low and straining to be normal. "Chocolate's poisonous to dogs. It's called theobromine," he said, glancing at her, but he looked away just as quickly. "The toxic component that makes it poisonous. Humans can metabolise it easily, but dogs process it much more slowly, allowing the theobromine to build up toxic levels in their system. Did you know that?"
Hermione stared at him, and her brain and heart both hurt. She didn't know whether she could actually speak, but she cleared her throat and managed to say, "No, I didn't."
Remus turned to look at her then. His amber eyes were slightly wet, and she only noticed because of the way the light bounced off of the tears. He offered her a fleeting, painful smile and said, "Well now you do."
All of a sudden, Remus was shoved into her and he grappled for balance. Hermione reached out, arms gripping his elbows in an attempt to keep them both upright. Once they had stopped falling, Remus wrenched himself from her hands and leapt into action. His wake was on fire; a whirlwind of fury that echoed off of him, and Hermione could do nothing more than stand and stare.
Remus reached for the boy who had been pushed into them. He was a fifth year, young and round-faced, and he only came up to Remus’ shoulders.
Remus twisted his hands in the boy’s shirt, pulling him up and ramming him against the shelves. A growl left his lips and the boy quivered with fear.
“REMUS!”
Sirius came out of nowhere, barging past a frozen Hermione, and ripped his friend off the poor fifth year. James appeared instantly behind him, hand fleetingly touching her shoulder to check if she was okay. He didn’t linger, however, and the two pulled an abruptly dejected Remus out of the shop.
Peter was there by her side in a second, and his hand held one of her fingers tightly, like something an infant would do. His childlike worry was thick in the air.
It was only then that Hermione felt the hush, which had settled over them all at the scene, and as soon as the door slammed shut, life regained colour and continued, rushing on as though nothing had happened.
*
"How many of your fuck ups do we need to cover for?” Sirius exploded, as soon as they had pulled Remus into a nearby alley. He was furious, from the wideness of his eyes to the rigid set of his fingers; there was no part of Sirius that was not tense, and his pale face was the only indication of his true fear. “I know you can't control it, but normally you're a little more in control than this! What's wrong with you? Why is Moony so strong?”
Remus had no idea. He deflated against the cold brick wall, closing his eyes and feeling an unbelievable urge to cry. Sirius was right; he’d had to cover for him more times this week than ever before. Whether he was falling asleep in class, or snapping, or just unable to find it in himself to move, Sirius and James and Peter had been there, covering for him. They always did in the days leading up to the Full Moon.
But this time, it hurt more. He felt more.
James swallowed shakily, and he looked how Remus felt inside. “Remus,” he started. His voice was faint. “What’s going on? What can we do?”
But Remus just shook his head, closing his eyes again and leaving them closed. The darkness, the nothingness, was a relief. He felt so low. He’d never felt lower; this hollowing feeling that ate away at his chest was something that Moony inflicted upon him. This depressed state that haunted him ruined everything.
“What can we do?” James said again, more urgently.
But in all honestly, Remus didn’t think they could do anything.