All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Second Year : After Hours

Friday 6th September 1972

Now that Remus was talking to them again, they were finally able to ask him all the questions that James had insisted they hold on to. That evening, after dinner, all four boys sat on Remus’s bed,

“When did it happen?”

“Does Dumbledore know?!”

“Have you ever, y’know, attacked anyone?”

“What’s it like?”

“Where do you go, when it happens?”

Remus hugged his legs to his chest, looking a bit overwhelmed by their curiosity. But he didn’t push them away, or snap at them, which Sirius took as a good sign. Instead he mumbled, “Er…” and appeared to be processing the flood of questions they’d hurled at him.

“I was five years old, when it happened. I don’t really remember much before that. Yeah, Dumbledore knows. I don’t think I’ve ever hurt anyone. I think I’d probably know, if I did.”

“So when you turn, you can remember what it’s like?” Sirius leaned forward, the curiosity eating him alive, “Being a wolf?”

“Um…not really?” Remus furrowed his brow, lip poking out as he thought, “Maybe I can remember feeling stuff, but I don’t think I have a human brain while I’m like that. It’s more like a really bad dream.”

Sirius’s mind was spinning. He wished he could know what it was like, to turn into a wolf—he bet it was really cool.

“I always thought werewolves were more…” Pete studied Remus, “I dunno, scary?”

A predictably stupid question from Pete—Remus just shrugged. Sirius spoke up again, asking the next thing that popped into his head.

“So is that what happened to your dad? Did he get killed by the werewolf that bit you?”

Remus flinched, a bit, on the word “werewolf.” Sirius realized that none of them had actually said it out loud, yet.

“No. My dad, he…uh…well, he killed himself.” He said it without any discernible emotion, voice flat, “After I was bitten, so I s’pose it was because of me. My mother – you know, she’s a muggle, I think it was probably a bit much for her, so she packed me off to St. Edmund’s.”

No one seemed to know how to respond to that. Sorry to hear your dad offed himself, my condolences? It had happened a long time ago, and Remus didn’t seem particularly upset about it, so Sirius figured he probably wasn’t looking for a pity party. Another question popped into his head.

“Have you ever met—” He started to speak, but James cut him off with a sharp look,

“That’s enough, Black, leave him alone.”

Sirius wanted to point out that they’d been leaving him alone all week—but Remus was looking at James gratefully; he didn’t seem too keen on remaining the centre of attention. Sirius sighed and dropped it—there would be plenty of time for questions later.

With nothing else to do, they split off to start their homework. Sirius kept darting glances at Remus, trying to imagine what he’d look like as a wolf. Did werewolves look the same as regular wolves? He’d have to look it up…or ask Remus, but he supposed his friend might not exactly have access to a mirror during his transformation.