James had never seen a person go so still, so quiet, so suddenly.
For a long time, Chris didn't say anything. He didn't say a word. He didn't even look like he could move.
Then Chris looked down. He didn't shake or anything. Just, his chestnut hair, dark in the shadows of the night, messy with sleep-or, lack of sleep- tumbled forward, down. James watched Chris' shoulders rise in a slow and steady inhale.
He could feel Chris's magic; it surged like an ocean, a wave drawing back water and then-
Stillness.
It was gone like a soft exhale, the gentlest, most slight breeze. A curtain falling back. Absolute quiet.
"He's gone," James whispered, and stumbled to Chris's bed, and put his head in his hands.
.
.
.
Chris felt awful.
What an idiot, he thought to himself, smacking himself in the face. He smacked himself twice (or thrice? Who was counting…) before just holding his palm to his face, pressing it there in frustration.
What- so everyone could feel his magic-and thereby his emotions, what he was thinking, what he was feeling?
"What the fuck? Seriously. What the fuck man…" Chris groaned. He walked down the hallway one way. Then he walked down the hall the other way.
He walked back and forth in straight lines, down the same hallway. It was the middle of the night; the moon stared through the window, a white smear in dark shadows.
He walked and walked and walked, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't seem to stop. Not walking seemed absurd. Impossible. Funny, even. The thought of turning a corner, or making a round turn, even that, seemed ridiculous. Straight lines, back and forth. Back and forth.
I'm an idiot, Chris thought to himself. Inútil. Inútil. Inútil. His chest churt. His heart slammed against his ribs. Inútil. He groaned, clutching his head. "Soy un pendejo…"
And they'd all been sitting in class, and he'd pretended to be tired, but his magic would be-a monster, really, a monster- and everyone, everyone, the students the teachers Dumbledore James Sirius Remus Lily...
I don't understand it. Chris walked faster. I don't understand it. I don't understand it. I don't understand it.
I don't understand.
Chris couldn't get the image out of his head. Okay inútil, breathe, he told himself. (soy un pendejo) breathe. (pendejo pendejo pendejo)
"What-and they didn't even think to tell me?" The words fell like whispers out of his mouth. He could hardly hear himself and that made it worse. "Be like, yo Chris ma boy, yo magic like crazy yo, you crazy yo, get outta here pendejo- not even a yo you okay bro, nope nooooo. Nothing." His voice sounded funny in the hall. So young. So twisted.
One-man comedy show.
Chris paused. It was so quiet. He crossed his arms against his chest, and squeezed his fingers into the flesh of the inside of his elbows.
Could they feel it even now? There were people everywhere in this castle. Pendejo.
"It's okay, it doesn't matter," Chris thought he was saying to himself. "Why would it matter, there's always the next life, you know, but why does this happen to me, don't be an asshole, calm the fuck down-" he inhaled through his nose. Squeeze. Squeeze.
He walked and walked and eventually walked into a wall. He knew because it smacked him in the face. He flopped his back against the wall and slid down it with a groan.
One part of his brain said, god, it's just a bunch of eleven year old kids. Why the fuck-who even the fuck cares? And felt absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.
The moon stared at him.
And another part of him-the physical side, the side that couldn't grasp the memo of his logical half, couldn't even think. James can feel my magic. Oh my god. Pendejo pendejo pendejo.
Everything expanded, and then shrunk, and then he was not able to breathe. Wheezing. Wheeze. Can't breathe. Holy shit. "Fuck." He clutched at the wall, the stones, sinking his fingers in. It felt like the castle was awful, and his magic was expanding, and he could feel everything and what if everyone could feel him too?
They all knew he was here, then, no matter where he hid, no matter what he did, they could feel him and find him and the walls were closing-
Then, coming down the hall, Chris felt heaven.
"Jesus Christ," Chris whispered, fingers loosening. They were so stiff. He'd been yanking at his hair, he realized. "That feels like fucking angel piss."
It literally did. It felt like wet warmth going all over him and forcing him into relaxation. It was a tired kind of warmth. Like relief. It was an angel. It was drugs.
It was Remus Lupin stumbling down the hall with blood on his clothes and a hospital blanket around his shoulders.
Ah, thought Chris, feeling rather high and floaty. So this is Remmy Remmy Remus Lupin right after a transformation. A werewolf and a boy so tired like after having run a million marathons. The magic felt so relaxed he could die.
"What?"
"If angels could piss magical healing rainbows... Which I hope they do, that's what you are right now," Chris said. "But I guess I'll never know. Because I'm never going to see them. Because this is fucking hell. Naaaah, not even hell. No place in hell for me. They don't like me down there, ya feel me."
Chris felt he was rambling but couldn't even hear his own words. (Angel piss, he thought, he felt almost drunk). He slid down the wall and his head banged against something. God knows what. "Dios mio, dios mio."
Remus stopped walking and stared at Chris. He looked like a deer in headlights. Which was funny because how could a wolf look like a deer. "...Hullo," whispered Remus. His voice cracked. He drew the blanket around his shoulders tighter and looked way, trying to hide. "What are you doing here?" His voice was tiny, and adorable.
Chris basked in his magic. "Call me Icarus, but I want to be in your sun," he murmured to himself. Chris was so happy to relax in Remus' post-transformation magic that he didn't care to stop talking.
"Um," Remus said, bending at the waist but keeping his distance. His blanket draped down and fell a little on the floor. "I don't mean to be questioning, but are you….are you...are you okay?" He sounded so curious, but so caring.
"More than fine," Chris grumbled. He met Remus' eyes. Remus blushed. "I'm so happy to see you. Your presence is a literal gift from fucking god." He reached out to hold Remus' hand.
Remus flinched back.
Chris stared. "Oh…" He pulled back and buried his head in his hands. Or his hands in his head. He just wanted to fold into himself. "I guess you can feel my magic...sorry…" He turned his head to the side.
"What?" Remus asked.
Chris felt a little annoyed. He was jealous of Remus' blanket and almost wanted to climb into the wall. "You know y'all coulda told me if my magic is being a bother you know…I...I could leave, or I could drop out, or I could, ya know..." he made all sorts of hand motions he didn't even know. "Ya know.."
"Drop out?" Remus whispered. He looked horrified. "What?! Please d-don't! N-not...No? I don't know? There's no bother? You're not a bother?"
"My magic must be awful," Chris said, pressing his hand into his face. He didn't want to look at Remus anymore.
"D-did you get a bad grade?" Remus asked, tilting his head to the side. He frowned. "That's okay, I'm sure you can...I mean.."
"No, I mean you can feel it, and I'm sure it feels goddamned awful," Chris snarled, glaring at Remus through his fingers on his face. Chris couldn't deal with feeling sorry. "You coulda told me you could feel it. I feel like someone stared at me in the toilet and no one told me."
"I can't feel your magic," Remus whispered, sounding confused. "That's not...in this age, no one can...I don't know what you are talking about. I'm sorry. You'll have to explain."
"James told me-" Chris started.
Remus seemed to turn red. "Oh no, it's okay you don't have to tell me your secrets, I know we're not friends and I'm sure it's some kind of secret friend thing…" Remus trailed off, looking to the side. His brow furrowed and he looked pale and sad and thin.
It made Chris feel sad, too. "I don't have friends," Chris said slowly, turning his head to the side.
"Yes you do," Remus said petulantly.
"Uhhhh no," Chris said.
"Yes, you do," Remus said again.
"Uhhhh no," Chris said, and flopped his head into his knees, which he'd drawn up to his chest. "No."
"I can't feel your magic or whatever and I don't know what you are talking about," Remus said finally after a long silence. He was frowning. Gripping the blanket tightly.
"Uhhh wait. So you can't feel my magic," Chris said.
"Um...no," Remus whispered. "Of course not." He turned his head, giving Chris the side-eye, with a wide innocent eye. "...Sorry?"
Chris lifted his head, and stared.
"Really," Chris said.
"What?" Remus looked frustrated.
He doesn't know, Chris realized. He can't. He can't feel the magic.
"Aw man. Thank God," Chris exhaled.
"Are you mad at me?" Remus asked the question like a reflex. "Are you trying to trick me? Is this a prank?" His head whipped from side to side but of course, there was no one else in the halls.
"Nah honey boo boo, you're good. You're soooo fucking good," Chris's head banged into whatever it was again. "Hey do you know what could make a person able to feel magic? Is it, just some people? Not everyone?"
"I think," Remus said after a long time in silence. He rocked a little on his feet. The blanket swished with him. "That's a um. A condition. That's rare. An old kind of...ancient thing." He was quiet. "Who is it? There's someone that can feel magic at Hogwarts? I thought...only Dumbledore could..."
"James is rare?" Chris asked.
"James?" Remus squeaked. "It's James?" Then, a breath. Silence. He sounded scared. "James... can feel magic?"
"I know, right," Chris said, laughing all of a sudden. Just James...just James is okay. It's okay. Or way better than what he'd thought, which is that everyone could feel...everything. The relief was hard-hitting. "What the fuck, right? He can feel allllll of the emotions and the weird shit and the panic attacks…man...no wonder he's like a two year old but knows everything, my god."
"Oh no," Remus whispered. "Oh...oh no, Merlin no. Merlin, I...no, I…no wonder he doesn't like me he must've hemust've knownhemustv'eohmerlinmerlin-
"No!" Chris yelled all of a sudden. "Noooooo panicky please, god no." Chris could feel Remus getting worked up, the so-relaxing magic suddenly warping with prickly waves of discomfort. Stop him! His brain screamed. Stop him from panicking!
How to stop him?
Chris opened his mouth. "Iiiiiiii will protect you."
"What?" Remus sounded flat. His panic spiked.
"Hermanos! Let's be hermanos," Chris blurted. He would do anything to make Remus' magic go back to the way it was before. The panic was killing him. The desperation to feel Remus' calming magic was the same as that he'd felt to get closer to Lily. Call me a drug abuser, whatever…
"What's that," Remus whispered.
"Hermanos!" Chris yelled, jumping to his feet. "Hermanos goddamit!" He suddenly forgot what the word was in English. "Hermanos hermanos hermanos hermanos ah….Er...sisters! Familia! Famiglia-bros! I mean mates. Y'all gotta know the lingo, man, Spanish is a common language."
"I don't...Spanish...what?" Remus looked like he was going to run away with his blanket over his head, so Chris in a wild fit flung himself at Remus. Don't leave me motherfucker, I need you, Chris thought, gripping Remus' sweater like a lifeline.
"We can be like huevos rancheros," Chris said forcefully. Happily. "Vegan huevos. Rancheros. Two pigs in a blanket." He peeked up at Remus. Remus was staring at a wall, with wide eyes.
"So...you want to be friends," Remus whispered with an armful of desperate-Chris. He didn't look too freaked out... so Chris figured he was okay.
"Uhh-huh," Chris said slowly, rubbing his head against Remus soft sweater belly. "Hai, amigo." He watched Remus carefully. "Eres mi ángel...No me dejes señorita por favor. Mis drugos. Drogas. Necesiiiiiito."
Slowly, the panic settled. Remus' magic slowed; the piercing panic calmed into gentle waves. It felt like needles running up and down Chris' spine."Ooooh acupuncture," Chris whimpered, draping himself all across Remus' front. "You are Satan's cure."
Remus even smiled, a little. Chris watched him. Watched the slow smile across Remus' damp, dried-sweat face. It was like the sun dawning.
Oh no. That was just the sun actually dawning. Behind Remus' head.
"I have no idea what you are doing," was what finally came out of Remus. It was so short, and so annoyed, Chris snorted. Remus was still smiling the angelic smile of godliness, while making words that sounded annoyed. "You know, I think you should sit down," Remus said, still smiling his head off.
"Don't wanna," Chris grumbled. Now feeling sleepy.
Remus sighed. It was a long sigh. Very long sigh. "Okay," whispered Remus. Remus ran a hand down his face. Chris felt Remus' muscles tense. What is he doing? "Okay." Remus nodded to himself. "We can go sleep now."
"Wha-
And then-Chris experienced momentary dissociation. He literally thought he was having a high. Having a trip. But no, it was just Remus, a skinny eleven year old werewolf kiddo-at what...3 am? Nah, the sun was coming out-5 am? 6 am?- tired after coming back from a romp with the werewolf- and he was folding his arms under Chris' (bony) thighs and PICKING HIM UP-
"Holy shit," Chris whispered, swinging his legs around Remus. "I mean shite. Shite! You're a God."
"You're weird," Remus said. He sounded happy. And relieved. What a strange kiddo. "I think you should eat more." Remus hitched Chris a little higher so Chris was wrapped around his torso like a panda to bamboo.
Then he held Chris in one arm and the other tossed the blanket over Chris' head. Chris felt warmth on top of his head as the blanket cottony and soft and smelling of blood and grass and magic, fell over his hair and back, cutting off the outside world.
Chris might have made a noise. Might have.
Remus wrapped one arm around Chris' back and left the other under his legs, and skinny eleven year old Remus speed-walked down the hall with as much difficulty as a sumo wrestler running while carrying a balloon. "We are going to bed."
"What the fuuuuuuuck," Chris said. He felt wide awake now, and tightened his grip around Remus' shoulders. "Can I call you Daddy now."
"What? Let's just get back to the dorm," Remus said, looking at the window, completely ignoring what Chris said. "Merlin, it's morning already!" Remus grumbled. "I'm carrying you back to the dorm because you are much too tired. And you don't quite sleep. At all, really. And I know you never sleep because you're never in your bed. Unless you're in my bed. Which I don't know why you do, you know, but that's alright. I don't mind so much."
"No Daddy-O," Chris whined. He had never heard Remus talk so much. "Let's stay here aloneeee."
Remus probably rolled his eyes. Chris couldn't see, too content with closing his eyes and resting his head against the scratchy sweater shoulder.
"If you're my fri-end," Remus choked. Chris could feel him swallow around the word. "Friend," he tried again, "then take care of yourself."
What a weird kid, Chris thought, and fell asleep on his shoulder.
. . .
And that is the story of how Remus made his first ever friend.
(Remus was simultaneously freaking out and overjoyed. And too tired to care that he was potentially endangering himself by exposing super werewolf strength. Maybe it was the wolf. Or maybe he just wanted a hug, and Chris was unbearably willing. Either way.
I don't know what is going on, Remus thought to himself as he stumbled, frazzled, into the dorm with a lightly snoring roommate in his arms. He felt James Potter glaring at him, and ignored it.
Well, thought Remus, tired and angry and annoyed. Go hex yourself. He's mine now. Loser.
And tripped into his bed, with Chris clinging to him while Remus fell. Remus barely suppressed a scream.
He laid on his bed. I have a new Koala, Remus thought to himself, stunned. He stared at the ceiling, frozen stock still. Chris continued snoring, soft hair rustling against Remus' cheek.
I stole James Potter's friend. I'm going to die, Remus thought, he's going to kill me.
He got a little scared, and then Chris made a noise. Remus patted him on the head, and felt a little better. Chris went back to sleep.
Merlin. Remus had a new koala. And the koala had a new tree.)
. . .
What happened next went down in Hogwarts History for greatest first-year drama.
The Gryffindor Trio had imploded, torn apart into pieces.
The rumors spread like wildfire after Chris walked into the Great Hall the next day with an arm around Remus "Loopy" Lupin.
(Because everyone knows Potter hates Lupin. And everyone knows Potter has his possessions. And everyone knows that Potter's gang is Sirius Black and Christopher-not-Peter Pettigrew.)
The entire first-year population watched as Chris steered Lupin away from James and Sirius, only to drag the loser to sit next to Chris's mad crush Lily Evans.
When questioned, Christopher reportedly smiled, arm still around Remus' shoulder and said, "We are brothers now. We adopted each other last night."
The rumors gained speed and fire when Christopher was spotted ignoring and walking away from a shocked Gryffindor Prince James Potter, while Black Sheep Sirius Black reportedly glared scars into Mysterious Rebel Christopher's back.
"What did you do," Sirius asked James later that day, when Chris attended all the classes (a rarity) with either Lily or Lupin at his side (why them? Why not James? Or Sirius? Or no one?).
"Merlin, it's like he hates us," Sirius snickered, and folded his arms and laid his head down on them on the desk.
James ignored the question for a long time.
A month passed. It was right before the end of the term. The day before summer began, when James answered. "I told him a secret," James said finally, after Chris looked past the pair of Gryffindors in favor of the shadows, or Lily or Lupin.
Sirius hummed. They were sitting in the library. James had been staring out the window, sweater bunched around his hand, chin in his palm, elbow on the table.
Sirius laid with his head on the desk, feeling like Chris a little, who never seemed to be able to sit upright through a class. Even in final exams.
"Do you hate him now?" Sirius asked, looking at James with genuine curiosity.
"Sirius," James said, almost lazily, still looking out the window. "I'm just going to tell you now, but I'm not ever going to hate Chris. Not now. Not ever. No matter what."
James turned and looked at Sirius. The intensity in his eyes made Sirius still.
"Why?" Sirius asked quietly.
"I'm not wrong about Chris," James said. It was a simple fact. "I'm never wrong about people."
"You think he's a good person?" Sirius asked incredulously.
"No," James said, and stared at Sirius. "I know," James said. "I know."
Sirius looked at him. There was a stretch of silence.
"I think you know what I cannot say," James said. "I think you know very well."
James' suddenly proper speech, the roll of his tongue, the clarity of the words, the intensity of his eyes-
"Ah," Sirius said. "I see." He slid his eyes away, because it was rude.
It was pureblood etiquette that there were some things ancient pureblood families did not talk about. The number one. The ultimate number one best and worst kept secret- Sensing. Magic sensitivity. A skill that could only be brought out through...interesting rituals. A baptism really, only for the archaic. A bit of old, dark magic, some old blood in the line. Very, very, very few wizards and witches underwent the ritual. Some died, even, or so Sirius had been told.
The Black family tradition established that the ritual (illegally and secretly) was to be conducted on the first-born heir as a rite of age ceremony, so Sirius was set to receive it when he was seventeen.
Why had James' family already conducted the ritual? Of course the Potter's were hiding something weird. What other weird dark rituals were they doing? James' father is Head Healer, Sirius thought, and wondered what sorts of things a guy like that could come up with to raise a successful pureblood son.
Sirius marveled again at the alliance he had managed with James. The only reason they could communicate about this, like this, was because they stood on opposite ends of an equally gilded fence. How rare was it that two heirs of top families in Britain were "best friends" and roommates? Doesn't happen, Sirius thought, and scratched his head.
"He's just...avoiding me because of that something I said," James said. "I shouldn't have said it. Too early, maybe," James mused in a strangely flat tone. "He doesn't hate me though. Or you. He's just...avoiding us and I want you to know that that's okay with me."
Sirius blinked. He had never seen James like this. He wanted to make James tell him exactly what he had said to Chris, but then, even bringing up the subject was forbidden. One did not mention magic sensitivity. Unless married, or something.
Merlin's left nostril, what did you tell Chris?
"Does he know?" Sirius asked. He wanted to know if Chris knew it was taboo to talk about magic sensitivity. How would Chris know? He wasn't a rich pureblood. Sirius would've known if he was.
"No," James laughed a little. "I don't know."
Sirius hummed, trying to look like he didn't care. He did. Surely James knew.
"So you're okay with him running off for Lupin and Evans?" When it had just been Evans, it could have been excused as a boy with a crush. Or a soft spot. Or something. But when it was Lupin too, it was a boy picking new friends, and weird ones at that- a clear social snub to James. And James did like his power plays, Sirius mused.
James shrugged softly, as if that would put Sirius at ease. It didn't. "To be honest, I am annoyed," James admitted.
Sirius had never seen this side of James.
"I'm never wrong about people," James repeated. "I'm never wrong. And I know. I know..."
"What?" Sirius asked.
James turned to Sirius, and smiled. "I don't like Lupin."
The darkness in James, made something inside of Sirius start to jump to life. It felt like...excitement. Sirius felt his lips curl.
Sirius sat up. "So what's the plan