Chapter 7: Of condors, wandering at night and moon-gazing
February came, along with biting, stormy winds. It had become impossible for the students to go outside as a furious snowstorm was raging day and night, drowning the grounds in a white blur and fiercely beating the solid walls of Hogwarts castle. It was so cold in the corridors the students were wearing coats, scarves and gloves to go from one class to another, and all activities, including Quidditch, had been completely interrupted.
James, Sirius, Remus and Peter automatically glanced at the magical ceiling every morning, as they entered the Great Hall, hoping that the wind would have ceased. James and Sirius both hated being locked in the castle, and as a result they were both getting quite irritable.
But it seemed that the storm just wouldn’t calm down.
“Another day spent inside,” growled James, angrily stabbing his sausages with his fork.
Remus squirmed uneasily. Once again, he looked pale and feverish. “Such a long storm in February just isn’t normal,” he said nervously. “It’s bound to stop any day now, isn’t it?”
“I hope it is so,” said Peter. “No owl can fly in that storm, I haven’t written to Mum for a week now…”
“Well at least it has prevented my Mum from sending me her weekly Howler,” spat Sirius bitterly.
Indeed, Mrs Black had taken to sending Howlers every time she heard about Sirius’ misbehaviour at school. As he and James were deploying quite an impressive activity, especially now that they were bored to death from staying inside the castle, many owls had been sent to the Blacks and to the Potters since the end of the Christmas holiday.
At that moment, a great bird flew inside the Great Hall through a high window that stayed open, in the unlikely event that an owl succeeded in making it to the castle.
James was the first to spot it. “Looks like you’ve underestimated her! she found another way to send you letters!” he said, pointing to the bird, which was actually heading for the four of them.
People started to stare and point. It wasn’t an owl. It was a condor; a huge black bird whose immense wings, covered in snow, were stretched out to their full length on either side of its body. Its long black feathers were ruffled by the violent wind outside, and it held a parcel in its sharp beak.
Sirius groaned. “She can’t want to tell me off that much,” he exclaimed, sounding both exasperated and desperate. “That bird must’ve cost half as much as our house.”
The condor landed gracefully on the table, knocking over most of what was on it, then to everybody’s surprise it held out its beak to James.
Exchanging a puzzled look with Sirius, James timidly reached out and removed the parcel from the condor’s beak. It was light and supple, and there was a letter tied to it. He broke the wax seal on the scroll of parchment, very aware of the fact that every single student in the Great Hall was watching him.
The letter was written in violet ink, in an untidy handwriting, and there were colourful drawings in every place that wasn’t covered in writing. There were drawings of birds, trees and mountains, which caught the eye and made the letter rather difficult to read.
Dear James,
I know you haven’t heard from me in a very, very long time. I just received a letter from your dad, telling me you have started at Hogwarts this year. I was astounded to learn you were eleven already, I was absolutely certain you were around six or seven years old. I know I’m a dreadful godfather, I missed at least four or five of your birthdays. Your dad wasn’t too happy, and he was right, I’m sorry I disappeared like that.
So I’ve decided to send you a gift, to make up for all those years that I’ve been completely invisible. But it’s rather useful to be invisible, sometimes, you know. I spent so much time in the mountains, with all those fantastic birds, that I forgot everything else. I hope you’ll be able to join me, in the summer holidays perhaps. A few weeks in those beautiful mountains “ the Andes, you must’ve heard about them “ and you’ll forget the dreadful climate of our dear old Great Britain.
Now, the present I’m sending you “ well, it’s actually TWO presents, as I trained the condor to recognize you. Now you’re his master. Condors are very faithful pets and they can handle post better than owls. Such petty things as storms won’t stop them, and when properly trained, they’re able to fly much longer. Bear in mind this one crossed the Atlantic Ocean! He hasn’t got a name yet; just call him by the name you want while stroking his beak, and he’ll understand that’s his name.
Second present: well, it’s in the parcel, and I suggest you open it away from prying eyes. It’s a rather curious object and it’s much more fun to use when no one knows about it. I found it long ago on one of my trips…
I added a few drawings on this letter; they represent some of the things I see daily, and I hope they’ll make you want to see the real things with your own eyes. You’re the only one who can convince your parents to let you go on a trip in the Andes with me; if I was the one offering, you’d probably stay in our old Europe for the rest of your life!
Don’t try to answer me, I’ll be on a very long trip, and it’ll be impossible to contact me “ even for a condor “ for the next few months.
With love,
Uncle Cecil.
James’ eyes widened when he saw the signature. He almost never heard of that cousin of his father’s, who was what his mother called an “eccentric”. Uncle Cecil was his godfather, and he had spent all his adult life abroad; he was currently in Latin America, devoting himself to his passion for exotic animals. James hadn’t seen him since he was a very small child, and he couldn’t remember how he looked like. He did remember, however, the strange presents he had (very occasionally) received, each one accompanied by a letter which bore wonderful drawings, similar to this one.
Uncle Cecil’s letters had always made James want to leave Great Britain straight away, to see some of the marvellous things his godfather had drawn (and he was quite skilled at drawing). He had kept every single one of them, in a box under his bed, at home. But the last letter he had received was at least four years old. It had come from Equatorial Africa.
James abruptly snapped out of his reverie when Sirius elbowed him roughly in the ribs.
“Well?” he urged him. “What does it say?”
James rolled the letter back into a tight scroll and stuffed it with the parcel in his bag. “Letter from my godfather,” he said shortly.
“What’re you going to do with that bird?” said Peter, looking quite anxious. The condor was surveying him malevolently.
“We have to find a name for him,” said James. “After that we’ll take him to the Owlery.”
“Are you kidding?” asked Remus incredulously. “He’ll eat all the owls and then he’ll die of boredom. Those birds are not used to that sort of climate.” He jerked his head towards the windows. The wind was howling and splattering the windowpanes with snow.
“He’s a mountain bird, he’ll bear the snow,” said James confidently. “Any idea for a name?”
The four boys fell silent.
“I really don’t like the way he’s looking at me,” said Peter suddenly, sounding very nervous. “I know only one person who looks at me this way, and it’s “ ”
He stopped dead, his eyes widening. “Hey,” he said slowly, “that’s an idea, isn’t it?”
James, Sirius and Remus all looked at the condor. Sure enough, his severe gaze did remind them of somebody.
“That’s not wrong,” said Sirius, “he does look like “ ”
“Yes,” said Remus with a grin, “definitively.”
James smiled as well. “So that’s settled, then?” He reached out and stroked the sharp beak with two fingers. “McGonagall,” he said solemnly.
“Yes?” said an icy voice behind them.
The four boys wheeled around, to find Professor McGonagall glaring at them.
“I was wondering,” she said coldly, “when you planned to remove that bird from the Great Hall, Potter. It’s not quite its place, is it?”
“Yes “ I mean, no, Professor, it’s not” said James, “I’ll take him to the Owlery.”
He turned to face the condor, which was watching him expectantly.
“Erm… Well, please come here, erm…”
The condor didn’t move. “You should call his name,” said Sirius helpfully, a wicked glint in his eyes.
The whole Hall was listening to them.
“McGonagall,” said James very quickly, holding out his arm. There was an enormous outburst of laughter at the Gryffindor table, as the condor obligingly flew to perch himself on James’ shoulder. James turned around and grinned sheepishly at Professor McGonagall, who had raised her eyebrows. But she didn’t seem angry “ and James could have sworn he saw the corners of her mouth twitch.
“Well, I expect to see you in my classroom as soon as you have taken my… feathery namesake to the Owlery,” she said. “Black, Lupin, Pettigrew “ you are not to accompany him,” she added when she saw the three boys rise to follow James. “I’m sure Potter will manage on his own. Off you go, Potter.”
James walked out of the Great Hall, laughter still echoing all around him; McGonagall the condor was rather heavy on his shoulder; once he reached the corridor on the first floor, James stopped and looked up at the gigantic bird hesitantly.
“Erm… maybe you could “ you know “ follow me, instead of staying perched here…”
The condor took off immediately, and fluttered a little ahead of James, resting on top of a suit of armour. So they went, the condor fluttering from suit of armour to statue to banister, as James was leading him to the Owlery.
The Owlery was awfully cold, as there were no windowpanes; yet the wind and the snow were magically prevented from entering through the large windows. Hundreds of owls were perched there, on the beams that supported the ceiling. McGonagall the condor looked up doubtfully, before taking off again, and flying… straight through a window.
James stared for a few seconds, marvelling at the fact he had lost his condor a mere half an hour after he had first laid eyes on him, then he ran to the window and leaned outside. It was freezing and he had trouble preventing his teeth from chattering as he called the condor’s name. The condor came into view almost immediately, gracefully suspended into the air, his black wings unmoving, stretched out to their fullest length. He seemed to be coming from above.
“Where’re you going?” shouted James over the howling wind.
The condor flew to the roof, and James twisted his neck to see where he had gone. He had to get half of his body out of the window to see the condor, contently perched on the top of the pointed roof. McGonagall didn’t seem to mind the wind “ admittedly he was slightly protected by the mass of the tallest towers of the castle, surrounding the Owlery Tower.
James retreated, as the condor didn’t seem to need him. Shuddering with the cold, he shook his head to get the snow out of his hair. He suddenly realised he was late for Transfiguration “ and Professor McGonagall wasn’t really forgiving; he grabbed his bag and headed for the door.
Then he remembered what was in his bag.
Uncle Cecil’s other present.
I’m late for Transfiguration. Besides, I’ll have all the time to open it later.
Well, yes, but… What did Uncle Cecil say again…? Open it away from prying eyes… Much more fun to use when no one knew about it…
James was the most curious eleven-year-old in the world and he didn’t hesitate very long. Opening his schoolbag, he took out the parcel and ripped it open.
A long piece of cloth, light as air, fell from it and crumbled in a little heap on the floor. James picked it up. It was silvery, and it looked and felt like running water in his hands. He held it at arm’s length. It was some kind of cloak.
He swung it around his shoulders, then looked down to see whether there were clips he had to fasten.
But all he saw was the floor. His body had disappeared.
Then he remembered a line in Uncle Cecil’s letter. It’s rather useful to be invisible, sometimes, you know…
“An Invisibility Cloak,” he murmured, dumbstruck. “The madman sent me an Invisibility Cloak…”
He lifted an invisible hand and felt the soft material of the Cloak, resting weightlessly on his shoulders. A grin slowly crept across his face.
***
“Sounds a bit crazy, your godfather… Sending you a condor, of all things,” said Sirius lazily, leaning back on his bed.
“Well, yeah, he is,” said James. “He’s been living in the Andes for the past five years, all alone with birds… That’s a good reason to get a bit “ well, weird. He even offered me to spend the holidays there.”
Sirius’ eyes snapped open and he abruptly sat up. “And you’re going to go there?” he asked eagerly.
“No idea. I don’t like birds that much,” answered James, looking a bit startled by Sirius’ reaction. “Why?”
Sirius slowly lay down again, slightly disappointed. “I would give anything to go to somewhere like that this summer,” he murmured.
He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about what his summer was bound to be like, in the gloomy house he found hard to call home. Shaking these thoughts away with an impatient jerk of his head, he opened his eyes again.
“And the parcel?” he asked.
He had thought odd James hadn’t mentioned the parcel since he had come back from the Owlery, that morning.
James paused as he pulled on his pyjamas and sent Sirius a strange, furtive look, then answered slowly:
“What parcel?”
Sirius frowned. What was James playing at, pretending he had forgotten about the parcel?
“Well, the parcel your godfather’s bird brought you!” said Peter, looking up from his comic. “I wanted to ask you, too… What was in it?”
From his bed, Anthony Bollurish put down his book as well and looked at James expectantly.
James took off his glasses and cleaned them with a corner of his shirt. “I had forgotten about it,” he said lightly. “The condor’s arrival was a bit distracting… I think I put it in my bag.”
Putting his glasses back on, he reached for his bag and rummaged in it. He soon straightened up, looking troubled.
“Weird… It’s not there anymore…”
“Do you think someone stole it?” asked Peter in a hushed voice, his small eyes widening.
James shook his head. “No, I must’ve left it in the Owlery or something… I don’t think we should worry about that, I’ll look for it tomorrow…” He took off his glasses again and got into bed.
Peter put out his candle and lay back on his pillow, pulling the curtains shut. Sirius narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe a single word of what James had just said. He knew James well enough to know he would have been too curious not to open the parcel as soon as possible. He stared suspiciously at James, who was busy cleaning his glasses once more.
What was James hiding from him?
And, most importantly, why would he hide anything from him? From him, his best friend?
Sirius felt the bitter taste of disappointment in his mouth. He had trusted James with his most secret frustrations, with all those feelings he had been hiding for years… Didn’t that count for anything? But come to think of it, had James ever realised how difficult it had been for him, to tell him all these things? No, probably not. James was loved by his parents, he had no idea what it was like, to live in Sirius Black’s family…
Sirius gritted his teeth. Now anger had replaced disappointment. He felt betrayed, and now he hated James as fiercely as he hated his mother, his cousins, and all those who had prevented him from living the way he wanted to… How could have he been stupid enough to think he could have a friend? James didn’t need him; he never had. Of course he didn’t care about him. The way he had acted so friendly towards Sirius had been a mere whim, maybe the result of a “ of a morbid curiosity for him “ for that boy who was forbidden to do things he, James, did daily; who was even hexed by his mother.
“Good night,” yawned James from his bed.
Sirius didn’t answer. Anger was pounding in his head, and it took all his self-control to keep himself from rising and hitting James. He lay back on his pillows and pulled the curtains shut. He stayed awake for a long time, impatiently wiping the bitter tears running down his cheeks.
Two hours later, he was roughly shaken awake.
“Whassgoingon?” he mumbled.
“Shhh! Get up, quick, I have to show you something!” It was James, wearing his glasses and his dressing-gown.
Sirius groaned and turned on his side, his back to James. “Want to show me something?” he repeated with disdain. “What for? You can keep your little secrets, I don’t give a damn.”
There was a pause. Then “
“You idiot.”
Sirius ignored that.
“You stupid idiot. You actually thought I wasn’t going to tell you anything? I sent you all those glances, and you didn’t see anything!” James sounded truly vexed.
Sirius turned to face him. “Why didn’t you say anything then?” he blurted out.
James raised an eyebrow at him. “Because I didn’t want to say it in front of the others,” he answered, as if that was obvious. “You’re the only one I can trust with… this.”
Sirius felt a tiny pang of guilt, quickly stifled by a wave of curiosity. “This?” he repeated avidly.
James lost his resentful expression and motioned Sirius to follow him. Sirius sprang out of the bed without further objection, and James led him to his bed, where he took from under the pillow the parcel he had roughly rewrapped. He then silently jerked his head toward the door of the dormitory. Sirius nodded and hastily pulled on his dressing-gown before following James out of the dormitory and into the Common Room.
“Wow,” breathed Sirius, his eyes lighting up when he saw James’ Cloak. He timidly reached out and brushed the Cloak with his fingers. James smiled and threw it over his shoulders.
“Want to take a walk?” he whispered.
Sirius smiled back and slid under the Cloak. After checking they were completely covered, they walked out of the Common Room and into the corridor. Excitement was running in their veins, sending waves of adrenaline coursing in their whole body as they explored the castle, unseen by drowsy portraits and ghosts drifting by. They climbed stairs, walked along corridors they had never seen, and saw many strange statues, paintings and tapestries.
“I’m sure every small thing hides something in this castle,” whispered James. “You know, the tapestries, the statues… they can serve as marks, or even hide secret passageways…” He tentatively ran a finger over an old tapestry, and he thought he saw one of the small characters in faded colours turn its head toward him and wink.
Sirius tugged impatiently on his sleeve. “I’m freezing,” he complained, “let’s move.”
They set off again, without knowing exactly where they were going. Predictably, they soon found themselves in a totally unknown corridor on the fourth floor, with absolutely no idea which part of the castle they were in. James took off the Cloak; they didn’t need it, as they were completely alone.
“And now we’re lost,” stated Sirius.
“What’s the problem? We have all the time to find our way back to the Common Room, it’s only half past midnight.”
Sirius half-shrugged. “I never said I had a problem,” he said. “But wandering at night in the castle, when it’s freezing like that and when nothing interesting happens, isn’t exactly my idea of fun. Especially “”
“Oh, will you stop moaning?” said James, exasperated; “I’m trying to figure out where we are.”
James furrowed his brows, his head turning right and left, trying to find a mark he would recognize. But the place was completely unfamiliar. Sighing, he leaned against a tapestry “ to find out there was no wall behind it. With a thrill of horror he felt himself falling backward through the tapestry, and landed rather painfully on what felt like a staircase.
Of course the staircase was going down.
Which meant James only just had time to grab the banister to prevent himself from falling from step to step, down to the bottom of the stairs.
He got up, groaning in pain; the tapestry was pushed aside and Sirius’ bemused face appeared.
“Are you all right?” he asked, clearly fighting back a laugh.
“I think I just heard two of my ribs cracking, but apart from that, I’m absolutely great,” muttered James through gritted teeth.
Sirius smirked; his expression of boredom had totally vanished. “I must say you’ve got a way of spicing up even the dullest trip,” he said lightly, joining James on the staircase.
As they went down the hidden staircase, James noticed the steps were quite taller than usual; actually the slope seemed steeper than necessary to reach the third floor.
“It looks as if it’s taking us down two floors at a time, don’t you think?” he said, voicing aloud his thoughts.
Sirius nodded. “It’s a shortcut,” he breathed, an excited glint in his eyes. “Good to know.”
They were halfway down the staircase when James’ leg suddenly sank through a step. Taken completely unawares, he swore loudly.
“What’s the “” said Sirius, startled. Then, seeing that James was trapped up to the knee in a magical step, and obviously incapable of getting his leg out, he shook his head in disbelief.
“How do you do that?” he said in a puzzled voice. “How can one person attract that much trouble?”
James had to twist his neck to look at his best friend, which didn’t improve his already rising temper.
“Sirius, I am this far “” James lifted a hand, showing his thumb and forefinger almost touching, ““ from jinxing you. So, for your own sake, stop marvelling at my bad luck and get me out of this bloody trap!”
Sirius, shaking with silent laughter, seized James’ outstretched hand and tugged on it. James let out another painful cry.
“Ouch! It doesn’t work, you prat! If you go on like that you’ll rip my leg off!”
“Oh, shut up or I’ll let you rot there ‘til the morning,” said Sirius threateningly. He looked as if he was having the time of his life “ which infuriated James even more.
“I have never seen someone so clumsy “”
“A bit rich, coming from you. I’m not the one who has his leg trapped in a step. Shut your mouth, I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Wow, I can see why you’re having trouble “”
James’ sarcastic comment was drowned in a loud miaow. The two boys froze; they hadn’t realised how loudly they were talking. They turned their heads toward the bottom of the stairs, and there, they saw the skinny, malevolent animal that had haunted the nightmares of generations of Hogwarts students “ Filch’s cat.
Filch was without doubt much closer than Sirius and James would have liked.
“Hurry!” whispered James frantically. Sirius put an arm under his shoulder blades and heaved him, his face reddening with the effort. James scrambled out of the trap and threw the Invisibility Cloak over Sirius and himself, as footsteps drew closer, accompanied by the wheezing breath of the caretaker.
Filch appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his bulging eyes looking right through James and Sirius.
There was a long silence. Sirius and James had stopped breathing; James could feel sweat running down his forehead, but he didn’t dare wipe it.
“There is nobody there, my sweet,” said Filch finally, turning to his cat. “Come on, we already searched that corridor…”
The caretaker walked away, his cat following reluctantly.
Sirius and James breathed again. James raised a trembling hand and pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
“Let’s get back to the Common Room,” whispered Sirius, sounding quite shaken himself. “Filch might not be the only one patrolling the corridors… We need to plan our excursions, or we’ll get caught, and McGonagall will have a fit. We’ve already spent more time in detention than in lessons…”
James nodded and they crept down the stairs. They knew the third floor well enough to find their way back.
They were miles away from the Common Room, but they didn’t dare take off the Cloak to go faster; they didn’t know where Filch had gone and were half-expecting him to burst through a passageway any minute.
They were climbing a staircase (James nervously feeling every step with his foot before stepping on it) when they heard urgent whispers coming from the floor they had just left. The whispers were drawing closer, and James’ heart skipped a beat when he saw no other than Professor McGonagall herself, walking along the corridor towards the bottom of the stairs. She was talking in a low voice with a boy in his pyjamas, her hand resting on his shoulder.
“Remus?” whispered Sirius incredulously.
James’ jaw dropped. What on earth was Remus doing, out of bed at such an hour of the night? Remus, who was always so afraid of breaking school rules?
“Do you think he went to see where we had gone?” murmured Sirius.
“Hope not,” James murmured back. “Because if he did, then it’s our fault he’s been caught.”
The words were just out of his mouth when he realised they couldn’t be true. Something was out of place in this picture: Professor McGonagall wasn’t supposed to be talking in that concerned, gentle tone. She looked as if she was actually comforting him.
And Remus “ quiet, shy, respectful Remus “ looked utterly panicked. He was whispering frantically, almost trembling with fear, cutting across Professor McGonagall’s soothing answers. Fascinated, Sirius and James completely forgot where they were, and where they were supposed to go; they both listened intently to the conversation.
“But Professor “ I need to be able to go out, don’t I?” said Remus, sounding more anxious than James had ever heard him. “If I can’t go out, in the grounds… What will happen when “ when it happens?”
“I told you, Remus,” answered Professor McGonagall in the same concerned voice. “Professor Dumbledore will find a solution; you’ll be able to transform in peace.”
“How can I transform if I can’t go out?” cried Remus, now looking slightly out of his mind.
“You might be able to go out,” whispered Professor McGonagall, squeezing gently Remus’ shoulder. “There are some spells on the mountains surrounding the grounds that can be activated for a short time; once activated, they will keep the storm out of the grounds, which will allow you to go out. That’s not a very good idea, as the students are bound to notice if the storm abruptly ceases for a mere day; but if you really need to get out of the castle I’ll ask professor Dumbledore, don’t worry. Now, you really should go to bed. You need to rest, for that time of the month.”
Remus bent his head, a defeated expression on his pale features. “Goodnight, Professor,” he mumbled. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“Don’t be,” answered Professor McGonagall with a small smile. “Never hesitate to wake me up. Goodnight, Remus.”
Remus nodded and began to climb the stairs. Professor McGonagall, however, didn’t move and after a few seconds she called out:
“Remus?”
Remus paused and turned around. “Yes, Professor?”
“What will you be telling Black, Potter and Pettigrew?”
There was a sharp intake of breath from Sirius; James elbowed him in the ribs. This was definitely not the moment for getting caught…
“The usual, I guess,” said Remus slowly.
Professor McGonagall shook her head. “Be careful,” she said very seriously. “I’m glad you found friends like them, but they’re bound to become suspicious if you don’t vary your excuses a bit. Potter and Black are not stupid, and Potter also happens to be one of the nosiest boys I know. Be very careful around your friends.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Professor McGonagall watched Remus anxiously as he resumed his climbing the stairs. His shoulders were slumped, as if he was bending under the weight of a heavy burden. Each step seemed to require a terrible effort.
Professor McGonagall sighed and finally turned to leave.
Sirius and James flattened themselves against the wall as Remus passed by them, then quietly set off after him. They followed him up to the corridor of the Fat Lady, always staying a few feet behind him; Remus looked lost in thought, walking mechanically, as if he had already covered the route between McGonagall’s office and the Common Room a million times. They were halfway down the corridor when Sirius suddenly tripped. He managed to keep his balance by gripping James’ arm, but Remus had started at the noise and turned around.
James and Sirius held their breath for the third time this night, as Remus stared right through them. He had gone even paler and his breathing had quickened. He began moving toward them, his motions swift and oddly fluid, his eyes opened to their fullest extent and his nostrils flared, as if he was trying to smell them. James stood rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the strange, dangerous aura that seemed to emanate from Remus. The boy standing in front of him didn’t look like his friend Remus at all; yet there was no physical change…
Actually yes, there was… The Remus he knew had eyes of a greenish brown; but now his eyes were of a much lighter shade of brown… Almost yellow…
Suddenly a sharp voice echoed in the corridor, pulling James out of his trance.
“Well? I have absolutely no intention to stay awake all night, looking at your walking up and down my corridor, you know!”
Remus started again and turned away from Sirius and James to find the Fat Lady glaring at him. At once he recovered his usual shy and polite manners and hurried to the portrait. “Oh, yes, sorry. Blabbering Bumblebees.”
***
James had no idea how Sirius and he made it through the portrait. He found himself in the Common Room, slumped on the couch next to Sirius, his heart still thumping madly.
Sirius broke the silence, in a low, almost shocked voice.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. When he got closer, I actually wished Filch had caught us.” He gulped, staring wide-eyed at the empty fireplace as if he didn’t really see it. “It was just Remus, yet I was scared out of my wits. I’ll tell you, if the Fat Lady hadn’t called out, I “ I would’ve screamed or something.” He ran a still-trembling hand in his hair. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered, more to himself than to James.
James took off his glasses and buried his face in his hands, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyelids as if he wanted to squash away the lingering image of the yellow eyes, still haunting him.
“He was scared as well,” he finally said. “Did you see how pale he was? He was even more frightened than us.”
There was another long silence.
“What does he transform into?” murmured Sirius at last. “And why does he need to get out of the castle for that?”
James felt feverish; incapable of staying still one more minute, he abruptly got up and started pacing.
“And why,” said Sirius slowly, “why did McGonagall say he needed to rest for this time of the month?”
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and went on: “And she also said he needed to “vary his excuses”… So that’s what he was doing every time he said he went to visit his mum… He was going out of the castle to transform in peace… And he’s doing it every month…”
James glanced through the window as he paced; it had stopped snowing and the stormy wind was now blowing away some of the clouds, revealing a patch of star-sparkled sky. James rested his forehead against the cool glass. Sirius got up and joined him.
“It all fits!” he murmured excitedly. The shock of experiencing such an irrational fear of his friend Remus was fading away, and Sirius’ old curiosity was back.
But James couldn’t get rid of the image of the fearful yellow eyes, looking right through him. “Why didn’t he tell us anything?” he said, without tearing his eyes from the sky. “Why would he be afraid of telling us?”
Sirius lost his expression of excitement and the worried glint came back in his eyes. “I have no idea,” he said. “If we knew what he’s transforming into, that would help. What about spending lunchtime at the library tomorrow? We could look into diseases involving regular transformations…”
“Monthly transformations,” James pointed out, inwardly marvelling at the fact Sirius had just suggested to spend extra time in the library. “What diseases involving monthly transformations do we know?”
Sirius shrugged. “Apart from a werewolf’s case, I can’t think of any.”
“And Remus is definitely not a werewolf.”
“Course not!” agreed Sirius, laughing at this ludicrous idea. “Honestly, can you imagine nice and shy Remus suddenly sprouting fur and claws at full moon?”
James smiled, amused himself at the idea. He resumed his gazing at the sky. Most of the clouds had cleared now; hopefully the storm was over at last.
“Yet, it would also help to know which time of the month he usually transforms,” he pointed out.
“Well, I’d say around… now,” answered Sirius, shrugging again. “He was already quite different from his usual self, did you notice?”
“Yeah,” murmured James, blinking in another attempt to get the yellow eyes out of his head. “Yeah, I did notice.”
“Besides, he said it himself. He’s transforming tomorrow night.”
James nodded distractedly. He had such a beautiful view of the grounds that he’d forgotten what he and Sirius were talking about. The grounds were covered in a thick coat of untouched snow, glittering in the moonlight. There was an aura of peace and extreme purity about this sight which was mesmerizing him. He could stay there, looking at it, for hours… All this dazzling whiteness was slowly filling his brain, draining away every disturbing thought, like cold water running through his head… Yet he didn’t usually like the moonlight; it was too cold, too ghostly, too “
The moonlight. The moon.
It was almost full.
James’ heart stopped beating.
“Sirius,” he breathed, “check the calendar.”
Sirius raised his eyebrows at him but obeyed. “Here it is,” he announced, taking down the calendar pinned to the notice board. “What d’you want me to check?”
“The moon… how will be the moon tomorrow night?”
Sirius looked at the calendar, frowning. “Tomorrow night?” he repeated.
Suddenly he blanched. Then he slowly looked up at James, who was as white as a ghost.
“Oh no…” was all he said, his eyes widening in horror.
James swallowed. “Full moon?”
Sirius nodded. Then he said in a trembling voice: “A bit too much to be a coincidence, isn’t it? Transforming at full moon, going back covered in cuts and scratches, refusing to tell us…”
“And his eyes,” croaked James, “His eyes… were yellow… like the eyes of a “ ”
He couldn’t say it. Saying it would make it real, and he didn’t want it to be real. Not Remus. Not his friend. Cold sweat started running down his forehead, and his hands were shaking so badly he had to clutch the window-ledge.
Sirius let the calendar fall to the floor. “He “ he’s a “”
But he couldn’t say it either. He joined James by the window and they both stared at the sky outside, dread filling every particle of their bodies.
Upstairs, in the boys’ dormitory, Remus couldn’t take his eyes off the sky either. Silent tears were running down his cheeks; tears of fear and despair “ like every month.
Peter was anxiously watching Remus from behind his curtains, not daring disturb him. It was not the first time he had found Remus crying at night.
Outside, the moon was serenely bathing the castle in its pure and ghostly light.
*******
A/N: Here it is at last! Thanks to my new Beta Seriah, who has been kind enough to look for my grammar mistakes and my odd phrasing--and there was quite a lot of those, probably because I wrote most of this chapter in a sudden wave of inspiration... at 3 a.m. See what I do for you people--giving up on my sacred sleep! I hope you appreciate!
Anyway, my dear Beta has the immeasurable luck to have holidays--I'm so jealous--so Chapter 8 (which is in progress) will wait 'til she returns. In the meantime, I'll work on my other story. Understand: PLEASE READ AND REVIEW FOR THAT ONE TOO, I DON'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT YOU'RE THINKING OF IT!
With love for all my regular readers and reviewers,
Tinn Tam