The Marauders and the Hollow Hill

Dumbledore's Plan

Remus didn't want to put his book away. As the train whistled and shrieked louder than ever, found that his stomach was twisting with nervousness. His shoulder seemed to agree with the pang - his shoulder ached - but then again, his shoulder always ached.

He was tempted to pull down his shirt and glance at it, hoping halfheartedly that he would see nothing there, just smooth skin, like there should be. But he knew there wasn't. His left shoulder was practically mauled; three deep gashes right down to the bone, torn flesh and popping veins. It seemed to bleed regularly - once a month. At the full moon.

Remus frowned as his shoulder twinged a bit more. It always seemed to when he was nervous.

Sirius, meanwhile, was staring out the window, a combination of eagerness and edginess etched on his face. "We'd better get our robes on," he said, his lips pursing. "Ah. I've gone and left mine in the other compartment."

"Mine's in my trunk - in the middle of the corridor," James muttered, almost embarrassed.

Remus heard himself laugh. "How'd you do that?"

"It was Sirius's fault!" James prompted.

"Was not!"

"I'll change here," Remus said quickly, trying to look as casual as he could. But Sirius and James just shrugged and wished him farewell as they left the compartment, slamming the door shut firmly behind him. Remus watched them leave, then practically collapsed, sighing with relief. He was glad he had been acquainted with some of the boys in his year, he really was, but... it scared him that they had been so friendly. Shouldn't they be frightened of him, shouldn't they shrink back with fear?

They don't know, Remus thought sadly. And he couldn't let them know. Not ever.

Slowly, he got to his feet, hissing with pain as he rolled his sore shoulder. It wasn't agreeing with him, not like it ever did. It ached and burned, feeling as it always did - like it was going to fall off. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to examine the windows of the compartment facing the hall. Thank God they had shades. He yanked them down with unnecessary force, causing them to snap and fall to the floor; he repaired them with a wave of his wand. To be honest, he felt odd, having to wave a wooden stick in order to do magic. Remus had grown up around magic, of course, but his father refused to use his wand, as they were living like Muggles. Remus, however had used "extraordinary magic," Dumbledore had said, well beyond the Ordinary Wizarding Level since he was three. Both wandless and non-verbally. Dumbledore was very impressed.

"Wonderful!" he remembered Dumbledore exclaiming, watching as Remus lit his father's cigarette from across the room. "But of course, once you know the incantation, the spell will be stronger, you know..."

Remus, in turn, was very impressed by Dumbledore. He had come all the way from... wherever he came from, just to see Remus and personally give him his Hogwarts letter! Remus recalled flushing with pride. He had felt like he was meeting a celebrity.

"Well, I am on a Chocolate Frog card..." Dumbledore had started, winking.

Remus turned round now, tugging his robes out of his duffel bag. They were remarkably shabby and ancient; his parents hadn't bothered to hide the fact that they couldn't afford new ones. But Remus was honored to wear these to Hogwarts. They had been his father's when he had gone to school there. But he had been bigger than Remus was. And by a lot, Remus thought as he pulled on the robes. Yes, he had been about the same height, because length wasn't a problem. The sleeves, however... They hung about two inches below his hand - he had to roll them up three times. But Remus wasn't bothered much by this. After all, they hid the scars and cuts crossing over his wrists and hands.