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The Walls Have Ears


The weather was wet and cold as November passed on and December came. Winds howled out the narrow windows of Gryffindor tower and the house elves were warming the student's beds before it was time to sleep at night, but even with their efforts Remus still shivered half the night, curled in a ball and rubbing his arms, desperately trying to ignite some sort of warmth in his skin. Sirius noticed this one evening and brought his own blanket across the dormitory to put it over Remus and double his covers while he slept. He felt bad for Remus, and worried about how his friend would do in that drafty old shack during the full moon. Sirius spent the night stuffed into James’s bed, sharing his blankets, uninvited.

“There’s got to be something we can do to make turning to a wolf easier on him,” grumbled Sirius one morning, when the sleet and wind had died down a bit. He and James were bundled up and out on the grounds, practicing flying in the cold. James’s father had sent him a little gadget that attached to the handle of the broom which kept it from freezing up on him, and James had wanted to test it out. “I feel awful for him, being all alone in that crumby old shack.”

“It’s not so bad out there,” James argued, though he only said it half-heartedly.

“It’s rubbish out there,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but, I mean, he’s a wolf,” James said, shrugging, “Wolves don’t give a damn what their rooms are like, they’re too busy biting up on themselves and all.”

Sirius frowned, “All the more reason I wish we could help him out. I don’t want him biting himself all over like that anymore. Did you see the marks he got from last month? They’re awful. He’s going to be polka dotted from teeth bites before long.”

James sighed, “I don’t like it anymore than you do, mate, but what do you reckon we could do about it?”

“Dunno,” Sirius said, frustrated. He let go of his broom to blow hot breath into his fingers. “Blimey, it’s cold out here. How’s that thing working? I reckon my fingers won’t ever bend properly again after being this numb.”

James grinned, “It’s working swell, actually. I’m rather impressed with it.”

“Good. You know it works, now let’s go inside before I lose a digit!” Sirius said, and he directed the school broom down to the ground. James beat him down there and had already dismounted before Sirius made it to the ground. He tucked the little gadget into his pocket and shouldered the broom. “You’re better at keeping up with moon cycles than I am,” James said, “When’s the next one?”

“The night before we leave for holiday,” Sirius replied, frowning. “We won’t even get to wish him Happy Christmas unless it’s before he leaves for the shack.”

James frowned, too, and followed Sirius into the equipment shed and watched as he hung up the broom and the borrowed gloves where he’d gotten them from. Madam Hooch watched with a beady eye from the desk where she sat, pouring over some paperwork, making sure he put things back where they belonged.

They were walking up to the castle across the grounds, their feet crunching through the snow. “Maybe we could go down to the laundry and knick some extra blankets for him to bring along?” James suggested, “We could use that chute in the trophy room tunnel.”

Sirius nodded, “Yeah. Do you reckon a werewolf would use some blankets?”

“Dunno,” James replied.

That night, well after midnight, Sirius awoke to the sound of Remus’s teeth chattering across the room again. Sirius got up and dragged his quilt over again, tossing it on over Remus’s bedding and tucking it ‘round him, careful not to wake him up. He stared at Remus for a long moment, and noticed for the first time that there was a scar on his temple and he remembered the night that Remus had finally come clean with them all about his condition, once and for all, and how sad he’d looked when Peter had called him a class XXXXX magical beast.

James was hard to rouse, but Sirius persisted until he’d sat up and put on his glasses and blinked away the sleep dust that sealed the corners of his eyes. Sirius had simply nodded toward the door and James nodded, getting up from his bed and grabbing hold of the invisibility cloak and following Sirius down to the common room. “Blimey,” James yawned, “I’d meant we could go - during -- during the day.” He shook the cloak out as they approached the portrait hole. “Here,” he said, “Get under.”

Sirius grabbed hold and ducked under the cloak with James and was just about to open up the portrait hole when he heard a creak on the stairs. His eyes widened as he looked at James and the two invisible second years ducked out of the way of the portrait hole, looking back at the stairs behind them. A shadow was creeping down slowly, though whoever it was clearly had not been close enough to see the boys before they’d put on their cloak. For a moment, Sirius thought perhaps it was Peter, following along behind them, not wanting to be left out as usual, and was about to think up an excuse for why Peter couldn’t come along when he realized it wasn’t Peter at all.

It was Derek Bell.

Derek crept quietly down the stairs, tiptoeing, wincing when the staircase creaked or groaned beneath him. He was clearly quite skilled at descending those stairs noiselessly, though, as he slid his feet side to side and leaned in strange ways on the way down. James made a mental note of the way the elder boy moved to get down and planned to try it next time he needed to sneak out of the dormitories at night. When Derek had finally made it to the bottom, he quickly hastened to the portrait hole and pulled it open, glancing up at the girl’s dormitory stairs, making sure nobody had woken up, and he ducked out into the hallway.

Sirius and James scrambled to follow him.

Derek Bell walked quietly down the corridor, pausing rather often to listen carefully to the castle. James and Sirius had to freeze still when he paused, afraid that Derek might hear them. Once or twice the older boy had glanced back over his shoulder and James had held his breath in fear of being found out. They weren’t sure why they were so worried about Derek Bell finding them - after all, it was just Derek, the bloke was their mate, he wouldn’t care if they were out of bed! He’d probably find them funny. Or, at least, he might normally, but there was something about the way he was moving, something about how secretive that he was acting, that made Sirius doubt Derek would be pleased to see them. Luckily, James seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

They followed Derek through the castle, down the staircases to the third floor corridor. Then came a heart stopping moment. Derek had paused, frozen, back pressed to the wall by a portrait of a fat wizard charming a prince into a toad, when echoing down the corridor came a little meow.

Sirius had winced. Derek was certainly about to be caught by Filch. He’d get detention for sure. All the protecting him that the whole of Gryffindor had done since the incident with the Firewhiskey… it was sure to all be undone in one go, and all thanks to that filthy old cat!

But Derek had thought ahead.

He knelt down as Mrs. Norris neared, her tail swishing through the air in annoyance. She was about to turn and go to alert her master when Derek clucked his tongue quietly and reached into the pocket of his robes. Mrs. Norris sat at the corner of the corridor, where she had just come from, and peered, interested, through the dark at Derek’s outstretched palm. She licked her foot carefully, considering him, her little pink tongue wetting her paw before she swept it over her ears

“C’mon Mrs. Norris,” whispered Derek, “You’ve never once refused a snack of crab meat, have you?”

The cat could resist no more. She inched closer, her nose twitching in interest at Derek’s palm.

“C’mon you mangy old thing,” he said in a gentle voice, “C’mon. Be on my side now.” She blinked up at him with her big yellow eyes, and, finally, gave in and trotted over, licking the bits of fishy meat out of his palm, her little teeth bared as she ate quickly. “Good girl,” whispered Derek. “You’re easy to bribe, love.” He dropped the handful of crab meat onto the carpet and stood up, carefully stepping past her.

Sirius grinned. This was very useful information indeed and he made note of it as he and James rushed on past Mrs. Norris and followed after Derek Bell to the mouth of the stairwell that went on down to the Great Hall. Derek lingered there, looking at the moon through the windows over the entrance doors and pacing to and fro in a nervous manner. James and Sirius hung way back, crouching behind one of the suits of armor, watching.

“What do you reckon he’s waiting for?” whispered James, his voice barely a breath, too soft for Derek to hear, even in the silence of the castle.

Sirius shrugged.

James’s whisper was more nervous this time. “You don’t s’pose he’s… you know… imperiused, the way Professor Tutman was?”

Sirius shook his head, “I dunno,” he replied, but he seriously doubted it.

The two boys continued to wait. Time seemed to drag on and they sat down behind the armor, waiting to see what it was that the quidditch captain was waiting for. Sirius yawned as Derek sat on the top step of the stairs. James even went so far as to fall asleep, his cheek pressed against Sirius’s shoulder beneath the invisibility cloak. Sirius stayed awake, though, staring at Derek and waiting…

And then there was a noise. Footsteps in the corridor. Sirius felt his heart quicken. It could be anybody. Derek was clearly thinking along the same lines. He got up, moved closer to the bannister, crouched low to the stairs, his eyes watching the corridor. But the footsteps were too quick and even to be Filch’s. He elbowed James awake. “Would you look at this?” he said, staring in disbelief at the oncoming witch.

It was Professor Blythe.

James sat up straighter the moment he’d focused on her face long enough to recognize her, his eyes wide as he glanced at Sirius. Neither could’ve been more shocked to see her than they were.

Derek spotted her, too, and he stood up, his long legs unfolding from the crouch he’d been holding so long. “Chriselda,” he greeted her.

“Shh,” she said quietly, looking around, “The walls have ears. Come along.” Quickly, she moved around him and down the stairs. Derek followed. Both James and Sirius scrambled to go after them, too, but at the foot of the stair Professor Blythe’s path brought her and Derek to the front doors of the castle, and James stopped, pointing to the stockinged feet that he and Sirius had gone in to follow their quarry. They couldn’t follow them onto the grounds. Professor Blythe carefully brought the door to close behind them, her eyes searching the dark of the entrance hall before the seal was made.

“Damn,” Sirius cursed. He cursed, fists hitting against the closed front doorway of the castle. “Can you believe it?” he asked James, who shook his head. Sirius stared at the large wooden doors. What in the world had they needed to go out of doors for? He wondered. What had Professor Blythe meant when she said the walls have ears? He stared up at the door in frustration.

There was a sound at the top of the stairs - Mrs. Norris had finished her crab and caught up, finding her master and leading him downstairs. Sirius dove for the invisibility cloak and the pair of Gryffindor second years quickly ducked into a broom closet under the stairs to hide from Filch as he came down the stairs hastily and looked around. He make a funny little growling sound as he ducked into the little room off the Great Hall and disappeared.

“C’mon,” whispered James, “Let’s get back to the tower while we know where Filch and Mrs. Norris are at.” Sirius agreed and the two boys rushed back up the stairs and through the corridors to the very top of the castle at Gryffindor tower. They muttered the passcode to the Fat Lady, who swung open to admit them, grumbling about needing her beauty sleep (“you can’t possibly think I just look like this without my rest, do you?” she trilled).

It wasn’t until they were back in the dormitory and Sirius saw his blanket-less bed that he remembered why they’d left the tower in the first place. He looked over at Remus, asleep without shivering under the two layers of blanket. “Shove over,” he told James, “I’m likely to freeze to death if you don’t share your quilt.”

James sighed and pushed over, “Just you stay on your side this time,” he grumbled, taking his glasses off, “I don’t fancy waking up to you drooling all over my hair like last time.”

“I don’t drool,” Sirius said, “I’m not a dog.”

James shifted so they were back-to-back and mumbled, “You drool like one.’

“Oh shut up,” yawned Sirius. He rolled so he was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, listening to Peter’s snores and Remus’s periodic sniffles as he slept. James’s breath was even, but not deep enough for sleep even several minutes later and Sirius knew he was still awake. “Do you reckon that Blythe woman is a dark witch?” he asked.

James blinked blearily into the dark. “No.” He paused. “I dunno.”

“It’s not as though they were discussing homework,” Sirius pointed out.

“Maybe she’s part of the group that’s fighting Voldemort,” James suggested.

“Could be,” Sirius mused. “But Derek’s underage yet, isn’t he? Would they allow somebody underage to be working at the resistance like that?”

James shrugged, “Voldemort had Lucius Malfoy working for him and he was underage.”

“That was Voldemort, though, wasn’t it? Of course he’s going to do things all wrong. And it wasn’t very effective, was it? Lucius Malfoy wasn’t a very good assistant if a bunch of first years could do what we did,” Sirius pointed out. He’d realized this term, watching the new first years, just how insanely overconfident they’d been, trying to take on the Dark Lord as bumbling first years. They were teeny-tiny! It seemed unbelievable to him that he’d been that fragile and confused looking only a year ago. Everything seemed different now.

James shifted and punched his pillow a couple times before settling back down again. It was several moments before either of them spoke.

A chill ran through Sirius’s spine. “We’ve got to get Remus more blankets,” he said.

But by the time he said it, James was fast asleep.