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Kisses in the Common Room


March heralded its arrival with a bout of terrible weather that rocked the grounds. Sleet hit the windows of Gryffindor Tower and the ceiling of the Great Hall was a constant horrible grey. The boys continued checking on the Draught of Change as it bubbled and brewed in the Secret Room, as they’d taken to calling it, but there wasn’t much to do but peer in at it. The book had expressly warned about touching it too soon and the horrible effects that could have on their final results. Instead, the boys’ new focus for preparations was an even harder step than getting all the ingreients for the potion.

“So when did you learn how to do an unspoken spell?” James asked Bilius Weasley and Derek Bell in the Common Room one afternoon. The pair of them had been working on doing some revising for the N.E.W.T.’s and James had taken it as as good a time as any to ask. The last step of the change was an unspoken spell, which would be used anytime that they needed to change to and from their animal forms. It was, according to the book, absolutely necessary that it be an unspoken spell, but none of the second years knew how to go about casting an unspoken spell.

Derek thought a moment, “It was last year, wasn’t it? Tutman?”

“Nawh, mate - Last year but it was Moody who taught us it,” Bilius replied. “Brilliant man. Wish he was teaching Defense this term, too.”

“So not until Sixth Year?” James asked.

“Yeah, sixth year,” Derek said, nodding, “It’s not easy but it isn’t as hard as it sounds. I think they just wait that long so the teachers know you’re responsible or what have you before you’re able to cast spells they can’t hear.”

“Why in Merlin’s name did they teach it to us lot then?” Bilius cackled.

“Dunno, Moody hadn’t gotten to know you real well yet when he taught it, else he would’ve sent you off into the hall to wait,” Derek jibed, kicking Bilius’s ankle.

“Me! What about you?!” Bilius exclaimed.

Derek grinned, “I am a perfect example of a mature --”

Bilius snorted and said, talking over Derek, “Mature as the finest mead!”

James left them to argue their maturity levels and went back up to the dormitory to report back to Sirius, who was sitting on his bed, reading the Animagus book. Peter and Remus were both down at the table in the common room, studying with Lily Evans. When the door to the dorm opened, Sirius shoved his book beneath the covers of his bed quickly. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, seeing James, “Did you get to talk to Derek?”

“And Bilius,” James answered. “They say they didn’t learn until sixth year - Defense Against the Dark Arts. Moody taught them.”

“Sixth year?!” Sirius clapped a hand to his forehead, “Oi - that is a problem - it’s such advanced magic!”

James shrugged, “They said it wasn’t hard; it’s more a maturity thing that makes it later in the curriculum. Bilius said the teachers want to hear what we’re casting so that’s why they don’t teach unspoken spells until after we’re all older.”

“Did they tell you how to do it?” Sirius asked.

James shook his head, “They started bickering.”

“Well that’s not very helpful.”

James grabbed his wand from his pocket, “But how hard can it be, right? It’s just casting a spell without saying it out loud. Magic doesn’t depend on words, does it? Not real magic, anyway. It’s the wizard that makes it happen, not the word. The word’s just a way to focus the intent of the wizard, yeah?”

Sirius sat up, “I s’pose…”

“I reckon we could do it first try if we really wanted to,” James said, and he looked about for something to inspire him for spell casting and he saw Remus’s quills laying across his desk, all arranged neatly, and he aimed his wand and concentrated super hard on the wingardium leviosa spell, certain that he could make the quills fly...

Sirius was sitting at the edge of his bed as James’s face slowly went from eager to frustrated to nearly folding in on itself with aggravation. Sirius looked from James to the quills and back again. “Try harder.”

“I’m bloody trying as hard as I can,” James grunted.

Sirius frowned.

Finally James gave up and relaxed his tensed muscles, looking at Sirius with a tired expression on his face. “It’s a bit harder than we thought, mate,” he said apologetically.




The storms subsided later in the week and the grounds were slick and muddy from the melting snow and rain. Filch was standing a constant guard in the entrance hall with a mop and bucket, muttering strings of complaints against the students that went in and out the door, leaving footprints across the floor. “I know it drives Filch positively bats, but the fresh air’s just too nice to pass up,” exclaimed James as the four of them made their way down the sloping hill to the old tree by the lake that they liked to hang out beneath. James was sliding in the mud like he was muggle-skiing and waving his arms about, laughing as he went.

“Oh Filch can bug off, it’s his job to clean the castle! If we didn’t make messes, what would he do with himself?” Sirius said, blowing off James’s concern. He’d reached the tree first and was already up in the branches, leaning against the trunk.

“Sit about with that cat of his,” Peter said, hopping and trying desperately to reach the lowest branch in the tree, wanting to climb up it like Sirius had done. Sirius gave no indication of noticing Peter’s plight. “Mrs. Norris is right creepy.”

Remus was standing awkwardly at the base of the tree. Usually he sat but there was a good deal of mud there and he didn’t fancy getting his robes any dirtier than they already were. He reached over and helped Peter, pushing his large rump up so that he could cling a hold on the lowest branch. “She’s just a cat,” he said, “What’s so creepy about her?”

“All those ribs showing and those great yellow eyes…” Peter shuddered as his feet scraped the bark, the new task of pulling himself up onto the branch was proving even harder than grabbing hold of it.

James had reached the tree and gone straight for the edge of the lake and begun lobbing stones in, trying to get the attention of the giant squid. “Reckon Filch thinks he’s married to that old dust rag of a cat?” he asked, snickering.

“Oi, probably does!” Sirius said with a guffaw, closing his eyes and basking in the little bit of sun that was striking his face. “He’s crazy enough to, for sure.”

“Speaking of crazy…” James said leadingly.

The other three looked the way James was and saw Severus Snape walking across the grounds, too focused on his steps and the mud to notice them by the tree, muttering to himself as he walked. James looked at Sirius with a grin and Sirius leaned forward on his bench to get a better look of Snape as he walked.

“Oi - Snivellus - trying to muss up your robes so they better match your hair?” Sirius called out.

Severus stopped walking and sighed, closing his eyes and pausing for the strength it would take not to hex Sirius Black here and now. He kept on walking without turning.

“Aw c’mon Snivvey,” shouted James, laughing, “Don’t you want to come over and play?”

“Ruddy Slytherin - “ Sirius’s eyes shone, “Always running away… Just like his mum.”

Remus was pushing Peter up in the tree again, his face red, torn between staying out of it and wanting to stop them from teasing Severus. “Maybe we shouldn’t tease him,” he muttered quietly.

“He’s earned it,” Sirius replied.

James nodded solemnly, “He tried to rat out Sirius.”

“He got detention for that,” Remus replied, “It isn’t up to you lot to punish him.”

Sirius leaned back in his tree and closed his eyes - Severus had gone on to the greenhouses by now anyhow. “Since when do you care about Severus Snape?” he asked.

Remus sighed, “I don’t,” letting go as Peter finally made it up on the branch and clutched on with his chubby arms, now afraid of falling. Remus looked up at Sirius, “It’s just that it upsets Lily when you do it and I don’t like upsetting her.” He shrugged, “Besides, it’s not very nice. He wasn’t even bothering you just now.”

“Lily’s made you go soft, there, Rey,” Sirius murmured.

James turned and continued on with throwing the rocks into the lake.

Remus leaned his back against the tree, arms crossed, and stared down at his feet, “Perhaps,” he said quietly. He didn’t know how to explain how he felt to the other boys. It wasn’t just Lily. She had a great deal to do with it, of course, since she was the one who had told him more about Severus Snape, but it seemed to him that maybe Snape had been through enough already. Maybe what Sirius and James and sometimes Peter did really was bullying. He would never be able to tell the others but sometimes Remus wondered if he and Severus didn’t have more in common than it seemed - perhaps they were both just outcasts trying to fit in with a crowd. He looked ‘round at his mates and wondered why it was that they had so readily accepted him, a werewolf, but rejected a poor boy with greasy hair as completely as they had.




Obliviate is for erasing memories altogether - mendacium is for creating false memories,” Lily said, pointing to the textbook laying across the table in front of Peter.

“It’s easy really,” said Remus, “Think of it like this - to mend something is to fix it, yeah? So you’re fixing someone’s mind with a fake story. To be oblivious of something is to know nothing of it. Thus, you’ve been obliviated.”

Peter held his head, “I’m rubbish at charms. I’m going to fail.”

“You aren’t going to fail,” Lily said in a gently scolding voice, “You just need to study and think about things logically. Like Remus said, there’s little tricks to remembering the spells if you think about them. They all mean something about what you’re trying to do. It’s a lot of Latin, really. See, look at this bank here of all the spells in this chapter…” She leaned over and a curtain of red hair released a wafting scent of strawberries that reached Remus’s nose and made him smile. He loved the way she smelled. It was subtle, maybe nonexistent to most, but his nose was far stronger than most other people’s - a gift of his wolfish side. She had painted her fingernails a lovely shade of blue.

Peter’s fat little face was crunched in apparent agony as he read, “I just don’t get it the way you lot do!” he complained. “Why’m I so bloody stupid?”

“Aw, Peter, you really aren’t stupid,” Lily said, “You’ll get it. Eventually.”

He shook his head and gathered up his books. “No I won’t. I’m going to bed. I’ve had enough of studying for the night.” Lily sighed as Peter ran off to the boys dormitories, leaving her and Remus alone in the common room behind him.

It was quite late and the fire place was casting long shadows over the carpet. Remus started picking up the quills and ink bottles they had spread all about the table, putting them back in the drawers where they belonged. Lily sat watching him, a piece of her hair in her mouth as she chewed upon it nervously. She hadn’t been alone with Remus since their kiss in the corridor after the tea on Valentine’s Day and she had yet to stop thinking about the way it had felt when his lips had touched hers - all wet and soft and warm. She’d had dreams of it, though in them Remus was always a bit fuzzy ‘round the edges, his features in the dark of dreamland.

“Rey,” she said quietly.

“Hmm?” he turned to look at her. She was staring up at him with those deep green eyes all long-lashed and beautiful and he felt his mouth go quite dry and he put down the ink pot he was holding rather quickly, spilling the ink out over the edge. “Oh blimey,” he exclaimed and he quickly fumbled for his wand to clean up the spill.

Lily laughed a little, musical sort of giggle and smiled at him. When he’d got all the ink up from the table, he turned again to look at her. “You’re very clumsy,” she laughed.

“Only because you’re very pretty,” he answered.

She blushed, “Oh shush,” she said.

“No, it’s true,” he insisted, “You are.”

Lily shook her head, “I’m all freckles and pasty skin.”

Remus laughed, “Evans, I am far pastier-skinned than you could ever dream of being.” It was true, Remus was quite a lot paler than even Lily, thanks to his condition. Next to one another, Remus actually made Lily look downright sunkissed.

Lily shrugged, “It looks good on you.”

Overwhelmed by the urge to do so, Remus leaned over and kissed her. He was so uncertain of what he was doing, he could feel his hands shaking against the table as he braced himself, his eyes fluttering closed. Her mouth was wet and soft and her lips were slippery with a chapstick she’d smeared on earlier and tasted faintly of cherries...

And then she laughed.

He pulled back. “What’re you laughing for?” He asked, offended and concerned.

Lily turned redder than her hair, “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I’m very sorry. Kiss me again.”

“Alright,” he said and he tried again, their lips touching, again with the cherry and the warm and the wet and everything. He was a bit more self-conscious this time and he wondered if his lips ought to be moving like that, and whether his nose was really in the right place or not. She moved her head to one side and it felt more comfortable that way. At least until their lips slid - neither knew whose fault it was, really - and their teeth banged together.

“Ouch!” Lily said, clutching her front teeth.

Remus rubbed his teeth, too. “Blimey,” he muttered, “This isn’t as easy as the older kids made it look, is it?”

Lily shook her head. She felt a bit of blood on her lip and she wiped it off with the back of her fist. “I’m bleeding.”

“What?” Remus asked.

“My lip,” she said.

Remus felt panic blossom in his chest. “I bit you? Bloody hell. I bit you?” He leaped up and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, shoving it into Lily’s palm. “We’ve got to bring you to Madam Pomfrey, I - I don’t know what she can do - if she can help or -”

“Remus, calm down,” Lily said around the handkerchief, which she pressed to her lower lip, “I bit myself, you didn’t do it. Relax.”

“Are you certain?” Remus’s heart raced and beat a tattoo in his chest. “I mean, I dunno really if it counts if I’m not changed, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I mean, I’m sure I’ll be expelled for it but it’s better than you being a werewolf, too, and --”

“Remus!” Lily said sternly, “Calm down, alright? I’m fine, relax! I bit my own lip. And even if I’m sure you haven’t infected me with being a werewolf. If it isn’t the full moon and you aren’t a wolf, I doubt rather highly whether you have the power to do that. I mean, if that were true then whatever would’ve stopped your Fenrir Greyback fellow from biting people for sport at any old time, yeah?”

Remus’s hands were shaking. “Yeah. Yeah, I s’pose.”

“So calm down. I’m alright. It was a mistake.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. Twice, twice in one year he’d been terrified that he’d changed one of his closest friends. First Sirius just before holiday and now Lily. And Lily! He’d been trying to kiss her, to show her he liked (maybe even loved) her and he’d done this. She said it was her own teeth, but he didn’t know that for sure and even if it was her own, it had been because of his clumsiness that she’d bit it. The blood was still his fault, regardless.

Lily sighed, still holding the handkerchief to her mouth. She lowered it to check and see if it was still bleeding, but it had coagulated and was no longer running. She held the handkerchief in her hand, inspecting the personalized stitching on the corner. R.L., it said. Remus Lupin. She stared at the letters, at the way they coiled and twisted about each other. After a long pause, she looked up at him. He was miserable looking, all downcast, with shadows under his eyes. She noticed the scars and the bruises and the general look of being worn out that set itself all over Remus. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she said.

He shook his head, but didn’t speak aloud.

Lily reached over and put a hand over his. “It’s okay, Rey,” she said gently, her voice shook slightly.

Remus stared down at it, at how fragile it looked, at the purple and green of the veins running just below her skin, and he felt like nothing more than a monster… and he wished that he could obliviate the memory of this from himself.