Saturday 6th January 1973
Peter, James and Remus arrived promptly at King’s Cross to return to Hogwarts on the Saturday before term began. They all peered about looking for their fourth, but Sirius was not there – and nor was Regulus. As the train pulled out of the platform, James went in search of someone to ask. He returned with his hands over his nose, where a large boil was beginning to form.
“Narcissa said it’s none of my business.” He explained, sitting down heavily.
“Maybe they’re using the floo network,” Peter guessed, “Maybe his mum didn’t trust him to get on the train with us.”
“Maybe.” James stared out of the window, rubbing his sore nose. Remus had never seen him so unhappy. James had been missing Sirius more than any of them, and had been so excited at the prospect of seeing him once they got to London. Remus and Peter tried their hardest to cheer him up, but it was as if he was missing his right arm.
Before leaving, Mr and Mrs Potter said that they would see what they could do about having Remus to stay with them over the summer, too, and he thanked them profusely. It wasn’t likely, though, so he didn’t get his hopes up. Instead he just tried to be grateful that he was returning to school for a few more months with his friends. Most of them, anyway.
Sirius was nowhere to be found at dinner that evening, nor did he appear by the time they were getting ready for bed. James and Remus had brought his Christmas presents back for him, and piled them on top of his pillow, still wrapped in bright shiny paper and ribbon. Three of the packages were from Andromeda, and Remus knew they were albums. Sirius had asked for anything and everything by David Bowie.
Sunday 7th January 1973
On Sunday morning, the bed was still empty, and the three marauders sat around trying to distract themselves with homework. Remus had finished his and took the opportunity to get started on his Christmas books, now that he could invoke his reading spell once more. James took to pacing the room, went to ask McGonagall where Sirius was (she didn’t know) and even tried Narcissa a second time (she cursed him again). Finally, he went outside to do a few laps of the quidditch pitch on his broom.
Peter went too, with a box of biscuits to nibble on while he watched. Remus stayed indoors where it was warm; reading, or at least pretending to. Now that he was finally alone, he began thinking about the things Mr Potter’s friend Darius had said about his father, turning the new information over in his mind like a coin. His father was good at duelling – he’d heard that before. Lyall Lupin had obviously had a temper too – this was a new piece of intelligence, and an odd thing to know, after so long not really knowing anything. For the first time, Remus considered that his bouts of rage might not have anything to do with his condition. And who was Greyback? The name alone made him feel hot and uncomfortable. He wished more than anything that James and Peter hadn’t been there to hear it all.
Remus sat by the window in Gryffindor tower, his book slack in his lap, staring into space and trying to make sense of a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces to. Occasionally he glanced out of the window to catch sight of James acting even more recklessly than usual.
“What the hell is he playing at?!” A voice squeaked over Remus’s shoulder. It was Lily Evans. She was sipping a mug of tea, staring at James on his broom.
“Nervous energy,” Remus shrugged, not turning back to look at her. The light from the window would cast his face into sharp relief, and his scar – while no longer red and angry – was still very noticeable.
“James Potter, nervous?!” Lily scoffed, “I had no idea he was capable of such complex emotions.”
“Oi,” Remus objected, still looking out of the window, “It’s not been a great Christmas for him, ok?”
