Mischief Managed Year One: Mayhem of the Moon

Chapter Sixty-Three- New Rules

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It was decided that they would alternate who would use the mirror to speak to Remus.

Remus was much too tired to feel anything besides irritation at being fought over. But once he had woken up a bit, having slept dreadfully the night before, he found himself touched that they all wanted to talk to him so badly. Of course, what started off as fuzzy feelings made him feel sick after a few minutes, because his friends were going to find out what he was sooner than later if he randomly, but not so randomly, couldn't talk to them during certain days over the summer months.

So his Saturday, which was supposed to be spent reviewing Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration with his roommates, turned into Remus avoiding his friends in the library. Instead, he studied with Lily. Ever since he had explained to Lily what memories had returned to him, a long conversation ending with her crying on his shoulder, she had been avoiding Severus, who seemed just as fine with avoiding them. The Slytherin preferred to spend his time with aspiring Death Eater friends.

"He had the nerve to try to talk to me the other day! Can you believe him?" Lily ranted angrily. The girl was scribbling with her quill with such ferocity she completely destroyed the parchment she was writing the uses of nettle on.

"Lily," Remus began.

"He was trying to make me feel bad for ignoring him! Like he's some sort of sad little puppy and not an absolute moron hanging out with dreadful cruel people."

"Lily, your parchment," he cut in sharply, jolting her out of her destruction.

"What? Oh, right. Reparo."

They were silent for a while. Remus realized it was too dangerous for Lily's studying to talk about any subject, as it would just dissolve into speaking about Severus. After two hours, his guilt at leaving his three roommates to struggle with Herbology by themselves finally got the better of him. He excused himself from Lily and headed back to the common room.

On his way, Remus made a detour to avoid running into a group of third-year Slytherins. He ended up in one of the courtyards where a group of seventh-year Ravenclaws was sprawled about, bragging and trying to one-up each other on their predicted NEWT scores. Meanwhile, a smaller group bragged about their win over Gryffindor. After all, the house won the Quidditch Cup last year but was dead last this time around.

Remus knew that would be different next year, just like he knew with certainty that there was no way the full moon would let him attend all of the games. Just one more thing to "look forward to" with angering his friends. He kept walking, caught up in his fear for the summer and the following year, when he ran into someone. The collision had both of them falling back onto the floor.

"Watch it!" they cried.

Remus turned his face towards the seventh-year student he had just barreled into. Dark blue, hostile-looking eyes glared at him. The student looked as tired as Remus felt: deep bags under his eyes and brown, neatly-combed hair atop his head. But that wasn't what got Remus' attention, nor was it how angry the boy sounded, nor how sick and tired he seemed with his skin nearly as pale as his own. No, what got his attention was the voice, the very same voice he had heard arguing with Professor Blavatnik months and months ago.

Remus struggled to find words as the student righted himself, already collecting the papers Remus had knocked out of his hands.

"I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you." Remus finally managed to speak, reaching his own hand out to grab a rolled-up parchment.