Chapter 50: Third Year: Philomena Pettigrew

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Friday 21st December 1973

Once he was finally given the space to think about it, Remus wondered why he'd even asked for more time. Of course he would say yes. He didn't think he'd ever say no to his friends, even if it made him nervous. And it did make him nervous.

Perhaps it was their excitement that worried him – or their over-confidence. He knew that part of their eagerness had to do with the plan being incredibly illegal, dangerous and reckless. But they were also doing it for him. He wasn't sure how to feel about that yet.  Better not to think about it.

He took James aside one day not long after they'd proposed the idea, and asked for all of the research they had so far. It was promptly presented to him as a huge bundle of parchment; reams and reams of notes and diagrams penned in a familiar neat cursive script. To say that they had been thorough was an understatement. If only Sirius paid that much attention to writing his essays, Remus would never have a hope of beating him to the top of the class.

They had left no stone unturned. They'd charted the full moons for the next decade, at least. They'd practically written an entire history of European lycanthropy, along with feeding habits and migration patterns, pack behaviour, canine communication signals. They had listed every ingredient they would need, its' cost and availability. Every ritual was carefully transcribed, step by step and the incantations spelled out phonetically. There were timelines, suggested locations for certain aspects of the extensive process – everything was painstakingly detailed.

"Christ." Remus said, when he had finished reading it. "You've done all of this..."

"It was mostly Sirius." James grinned, "Actually, basically all of it was Sirius. He did most of it over the summer holidays, while he was bored. A real labour of love."

Remus's stomach flipped. He didn't know what to say – how could he refuse them after all that? Suddenly selling stolen cigarettes to underage wizards seemed very tame indeed.

It was agreed that work would begin in earnest over the Christmas holidays, when they would all be away from Hogwarts. Remus had secured permission from Matron, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey to spend the break with the Potters, and as always, Peter was only up the road. Sirius was in a dark mood as term drew to a close – until he received a very short note during breakfast one morning:

To Master S. O. Black III,

You will not be required at the family home this winter break. Do as you please.

Signed,

Orion Black.

"Yes!" James cheered, almost knocking over his porridge, "Might even get you for the summer, at this rate!"

"What about Regulus?" Remus asked, tentatively, quietly in case Sirius wanted to pretend he hadn't heard.

"Oh, little Prince Reg is going home for Christmas," Sirius replied, shoving the note into his pocket. "It's just me they've disinvited. Good. Perfect. Excellent. They don't care; I don't care."

He didn't properly cheer up until they were packing. Sirius covertly showed Remus the gifts he had bought for Mr and Mrs Potter – a beautiful golden watch chain and a pretty garnet broach.

"D'you think they're ok?" He asked, nervously, "My family's shit at doing presents, so I never really know..."

"Black... Sirius, they're... I mean, they're perfect. Don't worry." Remus felt a sinking feeling as he thought about the slightly shabby box of mid-range biscuits he'd bought for his hosts. It couldn't be helped now, he had done his best.

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