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Chapter Text

The Doctor sighed heavily into the console. The adrenaline was wearing off and he was once again confronted with the reality that he was well and truly alone. Again. Just when he finally had thought –

He swallowed thickly and began slowly fiddling with some switches on the console as the TARDIS drifted through the vortex.

“How ‘bout we go somewhere new, eh, love?” He suggested to the empty console room, “Or we could head to a junk planet – pick you up a few new parts.”

The engines roared to life and sent the Doctor flying halfway across the console room.

“What was that for?” The TARDIS continued to tremble, striking universal pockets like potholes. Smoke was beginning to fill the console room.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” The Doctor fervently stroked the TARDIS as she continued to throw him around.

The TARDIS didn’t respond, though he could feel a warmth roll through the back of his mind. Smoke was filling the console room at an alarming rate, but her confidence didn’t wane.

“Where are you taking me, dear?” He asked, before being launched backwards, just barely catching himself on the hand break.

Lights and alarms flashed and screamed as they rocketed through the vortex.

Finally, the TARDIS made impact with solid ground, the jolt nearly knocking the Doctor off his feet.

He made an excited dash for the door, only for a deep sense of pause to pull him to a halt. The console dinged unnaturally twice over. As he approached, the top-most panel split open, elevating from it a rather large pre-filled syringe.

The Time Lord raised an eyebrow. “What are you playing at, old girl?”

The TARDIS frequency rose to what could only be described as an entertained hum, and an underlying sense of trust.

“Trust,” he breathed out. “I trust you, old girl.”

He could feel it as the liquid burned down his arm and up through his chest towards his hearts. His organs were engulfed in warmth and he began to feel a touch light-headed.

As his knees buckled and he sank to the floor, he could only think, “Oh, what have you got in for me this time?”

Chapter Text

The Doctor pried his eyes open. The TARDIS grating was unusually rough on his skin, and he was swamped in blankets. In fact, even as he sat up, he did so with a surprising lightness. The TARDIS seemed so much bigger than usual…

Frowning, he looked down at the fabric that cloaked him, he found it not to be blankets, but his brown pinstripe suit, only ten times too large. 

He frowned deeply. “What did you do to me, old girl?”

He clutched his throat suddenly at the unfamiliar sound. Much too high and light. Like that of a…

Bolting to the wardrobe, massive trousers slowing his pace significantly, the Doctor skidded to a halt in front of a mirror and found himself gaping.

Gone was his tall stature and sharp jawline, and in its place was that of a young boy, couldn’t be older than ten or eleven, with wide brown doe-eyes and a soft face. He felt mildly ill.

“What did you do that for?” He scowled, storming back into the console room after finding trousers that fit. “This was completely uncalled for!”

An amused hum reverberated around him.

“Oh, sure, laugh it up!”

After thoroughly taking his advice, the TARDIS finally took pity on the poor Time Lord and ceased her teasing, allowing for a faint tap, tap, tap to be heard by the front doors.

Frowning, the Doctor made his way towards the doors and flung it open, only to be confronted with a large tawny owl patiently waiting for him on the arm of a London bench. Tied to its leg was a thick oversized envelope.

The bird shuffled towards him impatiently, extending his leg as an invitation.

As the Doctor gently untied the envelope, he was surprised to find it to be made of what seemed to be parchment paper. Unusual for – He took a long sniff of the air – what had to be the early nineteen-seventies. What surprised him even moreso, however, was the scrawled out lettering on the front of the envelope:

Mr. J. Smith

Control Room

TARDIS

Flipping it over in his hands, he found no return address, nor any indication from which it was sent apart from a wax seal on the back, the center of which had a large letter ‘H’. Fascinating.

With the Sonic Screwdriver not coming up with anything interesting, it took mere seconds for the Doctor’s curiosity to get the better of him and for spindly fingers to break the seal, extracting two sets of parchment within. The first read: 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Smith,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term Begins on 1 September. We await your owl..

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

The second piece of parchment appeared to be a supply list of some sort. Well this was fascinating. A magical school. He had been mildly aware of Earth’s magical community for a while now – a small collection of mildly psychic humans who’d gathered together to perform acts of ‘magic’ through focus and controlled energy. He’d never put much thought to it, really. These magical humans always seemed to have such a lack of creativity – at least, by human standards. And they had this whole superiority complex over those they considered non-magical. This arrogance had been stifling technological evolution for ages. He’d never been particularly keen on visiting, but it seemed the TARDIS was insisting. Stubborn old girl.

Shoving his Sonic Screwdriver back into his jacket pocket, he stepped out into the busy street. He was maybe fifteen meters from King’s Cross Station, so, after a moment of inspecting his surroundings, he set off in that direction.

It seemed an ordinary day. A Wednesday morning of all things, relatively sunny, chances of rain later, but it would probably hit further north. He wandered around the busy station, ruminating on what could possibly be at this school that the TARDIS had made such drastic measures to get him to. Why couldn’t she have enrolled him as a teacher? Or even a teacher’s aid? Maybe she just thought it was funny. Or maybe she thought that this was what he needed after the distress of losing –

Shaking his head and trying not to think about that last one, the Doctor tuned himself back into his surroundings just in time to hear a young boy complaining to an older woman.

“We have to run into the barriers,” the boy said, “I told you.”

The boy had a rather severe buzz cut and looked to be around what the Doctor estimated his own physical age to be. He had a thin, wirely frame and also sported a rather nasty-looking black eye.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” The woman said, “I’m not running into anything.”

“I’ll go, then.” The boy said, “Leave me here.”

“I’m not leaving you anywhere, Lupin. Just wait there while I find a guard.” The woman clipped off towards the ticket office.

As she turned her back, the Doctor slipped over to where the boy, Lupin, was standing, now glancing fervently towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

“Going to school, too, eh?”

Lupin jumped rather violently, clutching a suitcase that looked to be slowly deteriorating as they stood.

After he assessed the situation a bit, he looked at the Doctor with wide eyes. “Do you know how to get to the train?”

The Doctor grinned. “Haven’t a clue. Seems you’ve got an idea, though.”

Lupin glanced over to where the woman still had her back turned, grabbed the Doctor’s hand, and bolted for the barrier.

For a fraction of a moment, the Doctor half-expected for the two of them to go crashing into the brick wall, however they did not seem to hit anything at all. The atmosphere changed and he looked around only to find himself on a completely different platform, surrounded by people. Strange people. People in long, flowing robes with stacks of luggage on trolleys.

And at the center of it all was a massive scarlet steam engine that appeared to be labeled The Hogwarts Express. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, whilst cats of every colour wound themselves between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of manner. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.

For as much as the Doctor liked to mingle, Lupin seemed a touch overwhelmed, so he quickly led him onto the train. Choosing an empty carriage, the two of them attempted to shove Lupin’s suitcase on the luggage rack, only to find that the both of them were too short to reach, something which irritated the Doctor to a great extent.

But Lupin insisted it was okay to keep the suitcase on the seat beside him, the Doctor placing himself on the boy’s other side.

“Thanks,” Lupin said quietly, a slight waiver to his voice.

The Doctor grinned. “Happy to help! I’m the Doctor, by the way.”

Lupin furrowed his brow slightly at the name, but didn’t comment. “Remus.”

Interesting. Lupin must be a surname, then.

The boy rested his forehead on the glass of the window and watched longingly at the other children, some older and some younger, who were all bidding their parents goodbye.

The Doctor gave a sympathetic hum. “Tough family life?”

The boy scoffed, not moving his eyes from the platform. “Try no family life.”

Before the Doctor could formulate a response, they both became acutely aware of someone staring back at Remus on the platform. He looked to be around the same age and was tall and slim with long dark hair and fine high cheekbones. He had one eyebrow raised in a gesture that clearly said: ‘and what are you looking at?’

Remus pulled an ugly face at the other boy, who gave a slight smirk and threw up two fingers at him.

“Sirius, what do you think you are doing? Come here at once!” A rather severe-looking witch with the same angular eyebrows as the boy stepped into view, yanking her son away from the window. The boy rolled his eyes but obeyed and the two of them disappeared further up the platform.

“See, making friends already.” The Doctor said cheerily.

Remus huffed out a breathy laugh.

Only moments later, the door to the compartment burst open and a girl came rushing in, ignoring the two boys, and flying to the window, pressing her hands against the glass and waving frantically at her family standing on the platform. She was small and pale, with bright red hair pulled back into a tight plait and her face was blotchy from crying.

She continued to wave, even as the train drew away, her parents waving back and bowing kisses whilst a sour-faced girl stood beside them, arms folded. Once the train had completely left the station, the girl sat down across from the boys, sighing deeply.

“It’s so horrid saying goodbye, isn’t it?” She said, her large green eyes glistening with tears.

“Uh, yeah, I s’pose.” Remus nodded uncomfortably.

“Hi, I’m the Doctor,” The Doctor said.

Lily laughed uncomfortably, before seemingly realizing it wasn’t meant to be a joke. “You’re…a doctor?”

“No, the Doctor. Big difference. Oh, and this is Remus.”

“Right…” She said warily, “I’m Lily.”

“Lovely to meet you –”

The door to the compartment slid open once more and a boy poked his head in. He had long black hair that was almost impressively straight, and had a long nose and wore a deep frown.

“There you are, Lily, I’ve been looking ages.” He gave the Doctor and Remus a rather foul look.

“Sev!” Lily jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around the boy. “I’m so glad to see you!”

He patted her shoulder shyly, his cheeks slightly pink.

“Come sit in my carriage, there’s plenty of room.”

“Oh…” Lily looked back. “Can they come? This is Remus and…”

“The Doctor,” The Doctor extended a hand to the boy, who disdainfully took it.

“The Doctor?” He raised a doubtful eyebrow.

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Right…” He looked the two boys up and down. “There might not be that much room.”

“Don’t worry, we’re quite happy on our own, thanks!” The Doctor said.

Lily and the other boy took their leave, and the Doctor noticed Remus’s gaze directed back out the window again.

“You 'right?” He asked.

“Yeah. Brilliant.”

“You know, it’s all right to be upset by people.”

“Oh, yeah, and you would know all about that.”

“I would, actually.”

There was a sudden rap at the door – a short, cheerful tune – and it opened once more. Peering through was a friendly-faced boy with a mess of dark hair and large round glasses. He wore a wide grin.

“Hiya!” He held out his hand to each of the boys in turn, “First year? Me too, I’m James.” He nodded his head back to a short boy who’d followed him in. “This is Peter.”

“Lovely to meet you,” The Doctor said, accepting the handshake, “I’m the Doctor, this is –”

“Remus,” Remus answered for himself.

“Can we sit here?” James asked, “Everywhere else is full and Peter’s getting train sick.”

“Am not,” Peter murmured.

The Doctor glanced over at Remus, who gave him a nod, and the Doctor gestured for the two boys to sit down opposite them.

“You know what house you’ll be in?” James asked.

“Not a clue,” The Doctor said whilst Remus shook his head.

“What were your parents in? Did they go to Hogwarts?”

“My dad did,” Remus said quietly. “I dunno what house, though. My mum didn’t. She was nor – a muggle.”

Peter looked up suddenly. “You’re a half-blood?”

Remus gave a bit of a helpless shrug.

“Shut up, Pettigrew,” James chastised, “As if it even matters.”

“What about you?” It was Remus who asked the Doctor.

“No magic from my family. Or all the magic. I guess it depends how you look at it…” He frowned deeply.

“So…you don’t know?”

For the fifth time since entering, the door slid open once again to reveal the boy who’d sworn at Remus at the station.

He glanced about furtively. “None of you are related to me, are you?”

His drawl was similar to the high, upper class accents that Peter and James had.

“Don’t think so,” James replied, grinning. “James Potter.”

The boy accepted the hand James offered and shook it. “Oh, good, a Potter. Dad told me not to talk to you.”

He squeezed in next to James and locked eyes with Remus, “Sirius Black.”

Chapter Text

As the train got closer to the station, the boys all began changing into long black robes.

Remus frowned at the Doctor, “Aren’t you going to get yours on?”

“Haven’t gotten any, have I?” The Doctor shrugged.

Remus looked around, seemingly only just now realizing that the Doctor hadn’t come with any luggage at all.

“Why…Why not?”

He grinned, “No money.”

He met Remus’s eye and a slight smile appeared on the boy’s lips.

“Here, I’ve probably got an extra,” Sirius pulled down his suitcase and began to dig through it.

James peered over at him, “You’ve got an extra pair of robes?”

“Yeah, and he’s a muggle-born,” He gave a wicked grin, “My parents would be furious.”

By the time Doctor was changed into Sirius’s robes – they were a few sizes too big, but they’d do – the train was pulling to a halt at the station. 

They’d been instructed to leave their luggage on the train, something Remus seemed particularly hesitant to do. Yet despite that, they scurried out into the bitter evening air.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” A massive man – properly massive – maybe, nine feet tall, and the equivalent of three people across, was illuminated by a large lantern overhead. He looked to be in his early forties, though it was hard to tell under a rough bushy black beard.

“S’pose we better follow him, then.” The Doctor said, and led the other four boys towards him, James and Sirius confidently right on his tail, Peter following anxiously behind, Remus trailing at the back.

The large man led the students down a steep, narrow path, on either side of which large black trees blocked out whatever sliver of light there was left in the sky.

“Right up here’s where you’ll get yer firs’ glimpse,” The man assured them as they walked, “jus’ round here.”

The students gasped in awe as the narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle laden with turrets and towers.

The students all squeezed themselves into boats – Remus was looking rather claustrophobic, stuck in a small rowboat with four other people. 

“FORWARD!” The man, who had a whole boat to himself, shouted, and the fleet of boats all moved at once. They glided across the lake, smooth as glass. Everyone stared up at the great castle in awe as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff upon which it stood.

As they reached the cliff, they sailed through a curtain of ivy that had a wide opening in the cliff face. This proved quickly disastrous as Peter didn’t think to duck and got slapped in the face with the ivy, shouting in panic and toppling into the lake.

“Peter!” The Doctor shouted as he and James both reached down and managed to each grab a part of his robes, hoisting him back up out of the water.

The large man winced. “Sorry ‘bout that. Prob’ly should’a warned yeh.”

James burst out laughing as Peter gave the man a sheepish look as he hurried out apologies.

The boats carried them along a dark tunnel that seemed to be taking them right beneath the castle, until they reached a sort of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles and were led up a passageway in the rock.

They came out at last onto smooth, damp grass, right in the shadow of the castle before being led up a flight of stone steps. By the time they reached a large oaken front door, Peter was looking slightly less like a soaked rat, though not entirely dry.

The large man knocked firmly on the door three times and it swung open at once to reveal a tall, middle-aged, black-haired witch with a long stern face. 

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” The man said.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” the woman nodded, “First years, follow me.”

She guided them forth across flagged stone floor through an entrance hall whose stone walls were adorned with flaming torches, and a ceiling too high to make out, and past a magnificent marble staircase. From a doorway to their right, the Doctor could hear the drone of hundreds of voices – the rest of the school must have arrived before they did.

The first-year students were herded into a small, empty chamber of the hall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” The professor said, “We are about to have our start-of-term banquet. Before that happens, however, you will each be sorted into your Houses. The Houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, each have their own noble history, and are all honourable in their own right. Your triumphs within your Houses will win you points, whereas any rule-breaking will result in the loss of such points. At the end of the school year, the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I do believe each of you will be an asset to whichever House becomes your own.”

She turned around and led the students out of the chamber, back across the hall, and then pushed through a pair of double doors into a massive hall.

The hall was lit by thousands of candles, all floating in midair above four long tames where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were adorned with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the professors seemed to be sitting. Above them, the ceiling revealed the vast night sky that hung above – pendulous grey clouds and glittering stars.

As the sea of students followed the professor, the Doctor and Remus exchanged an impressed look – well, the Doctor’s was that of mild impress, whilst Remus’s was full of awe. The only other people who seemed particularly interested, however, was the red haired girl from the train, Lily, if he so recalled, as well as a handful of other students. He deduced that they must have lived with non-magical parents like Remus.

Above each table of students was a colourful banner: red, blue, yellow, and green.

“Each colour is for a different house,” James whispered enthusiastically to Remus and the Doctor. “Red is for Gryffindor, which is like, the brave and strong and dashing” – he winked boldly – ”My whole family is in Gryffindor. They always said it was the best house. The house of knights and chivalry.”

Remus looked at James doubtfully, “And what about the other ones?”

“Oh, right, well the blue is for Ravenclaw, which is for all the super smart people. Wisdom and all that, you know?

“That yellow one there is for Hufflepuff, which is all about loyalty and fairness and stuff like that. Dad always said they’re a bit weird, but I guess that can’t be all bad.”

“What about the last one?” Remus was looking over at a green banner with a serpent on it.

“That one’s Slytherin,” Sirius gave a bitter scowl. “All my family’s in Slytherin.”

“It’s the house of ambition and cunning,” James said. “It’s like, the evil house.”

The Doctor frowned. Fascinating. They were tracking students, that much was clear. The pre-determination of behaviour based on the people they surrounded students with wasn’t necessarily a new idea for the time, but it could be very harmful. Especially with a house that was pre-dubbed ‘evil.’ This would be…tedious.

“Well, that seems a bit mad,” The Doctor said.

James frowned. “What does?”

“An ‘evil’ house. You can’t just label an eleven year old as evil.”

“Well, they’re not, like, totally evil. Just…” James shrugged.

“Just what?”

“I bet I’ll be in Hufflepuff,” Peter mumbled, eyes trained down on his still slightly-damp trainers.

“Hufflepuff sounds brilliant,” The Doctor quickly assured him. “Loyalty? Fairness? Those are brilliant qualities. I’d love to be in Hufflepuff.”

“I already know where I’m going.” Sirius mumbled. His face had curled into a bitter scowl.

The Doctor frowned at him. He clearly had a…difficult relationship with his family. From the comments on the train to this…

“Whilst I’m not so sure about Slytherin being evil, you don’t have to be defined by your family, Sirius.”

“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t look so convinced.

“What about you?” Remus asked, “What house do you think you’ll be in?”

The Doctor hesitated a moment before shrugging, “Ravenclaw, probably. How ‘bout you?”

The boy hesitated a moment. “Not smart enough for Ravenclaw, not exactly brave or cunning, so probably not Gryffindor or Slytherin. I dunno, maybe Hufflepuff?”

The Doctor hummed pleasantly. “Maybe I’ll join you.”

Sirius frowned. “Not exactly like you can choose.”

The Doctor gave him a soft smile, “You can choose your destiny, Sirius. You can choose who you want to become.”

The students were brought to a halt before the table of professors and McGonagall called for their quiet.

Hundreds of faces stared at them, flickering in the candlelight. The professor had placed a four-legged stool, top of which was a pointed wizards hat, patched, frayed, and extremely filthy. For a few seconds, there was complete silence in the hall as everyone watched the hat expectantly. The hat twitched and a rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth. And then the hat began to sing:

Welcome, all, to Hogwarts!

We’re cut above the rest

But before you all can join the feast

You first must pass one test:

I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And in each tiny stitch

I hold the power to pick and choose

And then tell you to which

Of four great houses you’ll belong

For all your Hogwarts years!

It won’t be long, just tug me on

Snugly ‘round your ears.

To Ravenclaw the clever folk

Will all be promptly sent,

If I can see your mind is good

And strong on learning bent.

Yet Hufflepuff could claim you still

If you are fair and true.

Pureblood, halfblood, no blood at all

That house is right for you!

Or then again in Slytherin

Your talents will be tested.

If you set your standards high

You never will be bested.

And what of the courageous sort

Who sport a lot of nerve?

If you dare to risk your neck

It’s Gryffindor you’ll serve.

Now hurry up, the feast grows cold

(I’m nearly done my song)

I’ve never once misjudged a soul,

I will not steer you wrong!

The hall erupted in applause as the hat’s song came to completion. The hat bowed to each of the four tables before becoming quite still once more.

Professor McGonagall stepped forth, holding a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will come up and put on the hat to be sorted,” she said. “Arnold, Simon!”

A young blond boy nervously approached the stool and sat down. The hat was placed on his head, covering half his face.

The hat contemplated a long moment. “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The next student was called up, and the Doctor, James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter returned to their hushed whispers.

“Black, Sirius!”

Sirius jolted up and scoured off to the stool. As he approached, the Doctor couldn’t help but notice a group of older students heckling from the Slytherin table. Two young women with masses of dark curls and the same high cheekbones as Sirius were calling out to him. Sirius didn’t look their way – something that appeared incredibly intentional – but was trembling horribly. He made eye contact with the Doctor, before squeezing his eyes shut as the hat was placed on his head.

The hall was quiet for a few moments, before the hat screeched: “GRYFFINDOR!”

A few moments of stunned silence passed before the clapping sounded this time. Professor McGonagall gently lifted the hat from Sirius’s head, and gave him a small, kind smile. He looked completely horrified, casting a desperate look at the Slytherin table, from which the two girls who’d been heckling him were now hissing, eyes narrowed. He got up and walked slowly over to the Gryffindors, where he was the first new student to take his place under the gold and red banners.

This time, he didn’t not meet the Doctor’s eye.

The sorting continued. Lily Evans, the girl from the train, was also placed in Gryffindor, and sat grinning next to a rather miserable-looking Sirius.

Remus was called up next. He made his way to the front and sat down on the stool. As he glanced up to where Professor McGonagall was looking down her nose at him, he looked quite ill for a moment.

The hat took longer with Remus than it had with the others. Beneath, Remus was stiff, mildly flinching from time to time.

After a long moment, the hat called out: “GRYFFINDOR!”

Remus ripped the hat from his head immediately, not waiting for the professor to remove it, and hurried over to the Gryffindor table as they clapped and cheered him on, sitting opposite of Lily and Sirius.

Soon the ‘P’s’ came around, and Peter Pettigrew was called up. As the Doctor watched the boy squirm nervously and wondered what had brought him and James together. They were such polar opposites – James was relaxed, self-assured, and brimming with confidence. Whilst Peter was anxious and twitchy, constantly looking for assurance from James.

The hat had taken a long time deliberating over Peter. Even the professors seemed to be getting nervous as the minutes ticked by. Finally, he was sorted into Gryffindor, quickly followed by James.

“Smith, John!” Professor McGonagall called out. When no one made to walk forth, she called a second time: “Smith! John!”

“Oh!” The Doctor suddenly made to move towards the bench, “I’m Smith John! Right!”

The professor gave him an irritated look, but allowed for him to take a seat and placed the hat over his head.

There was a moment of silence, before he could feel a curious pressure prodding at his mental walls.

Laughter resonated throughout his mind:

“Oh, you are new,” The hat said, “So very new. Bring down your walls, little one, and let me sort you.”

The Time Lord’s reluctance must have been evident, as the hat hissed with laughter once more. “Hesitant, I see. What a fascinating specimen you are. But I have a job to do. How else am I meant to find where you belong if you don’t give me just a little peak.”

The pressure on his mind became more forceful – the Doctor offhandedly wondered how easily the hat was going on him.

“Very easily,” The hat assured him. “I’m trying to be nice.”

The Doctor relented, drawing his mental barriers down long enough for the hat to get a quick surface-level look.

“Oh, you are fascinating, indeed.” The hat mused, “I’ve never seen someone quite like you in all my hundreds of years of sorting. Yes, yes, many qualities of a Ravenclaw, I see. It’s where you expected me to put you, is it not? Yes, so very clever – much more so than anyone I have yet to sort – more intelligent than any professor here. Yes, I have no doubt that your wisdom far exceeds my own, and your yearn for understanding tells me you would do very well there, indeed. Yet, perhaps, you may be fooling yourself.”

The Doctor felt chills run down his spine as the hat continued.

“Your loyalty is not to go overlooked, Doctor. Your impulsive tendencies shine through most when those you care about are in danger – You are willing to go most any length to help them. Fairness, or rather, justice, is very important to you. This leads me to believe that you may do well in Hufflepuff.”

Temptation pulled at the Time Lord to force the hat out of his head – to draw back the barriers and rip the hat off. Yet he held out as the hat went on.

“But I do sense a darkness in you – and I think you sense it, too.” The hat laughed deeply, “Such a leader you are, making the rules as you go. So very resourceful, always looking to take advantage of your surroundings. How easily your confidence slips into arrogance, and your strong ambition, noble as it may be, is often achieved by less than noble means. Your cunning is disguised, though not absent, and your self-preservation has been vital in making it through the paths you have chosen for yourself. Yet, I do not believe Slytherin to be the place for you.”

The Doctor could feel his knuckles burn as he clutched the bench painfully, wishing the hat would just make a decision.

“No, your bravery and courage remain unmatched. You have no fear in the pursuit of which you believe in. You possess an unrivaled determination that often leads to recklessness. You may not like it, but you are a warrior, through and through. Yes, I know where you belong: GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was removed from his head as the hall began clapping, breaking what seemed to be an uncomfortably dead silence.

Walking over to the Gryffindor table, slightly shaken by the whole experience, the Doctor took a seat beside Sirius and across from James, Peter, and Remus.

“That took ages,” James whispered excitedly.

Remus had an amused look on his face. “Your name is John?”

“And how great is this?” James went on, “We’re all in Gryffindor!”

Sirius groaned, his head in his arms on the table.

“Speak for yourself,” he replied, slightly muffled. “My father’s going to kill me.”

“I can’t believe it!” Peter kept saying, eyes wide. Though he’d clearly got what he’d wanted, he kept wringing his hands and shooting looks over his shoulder as though someone might come over at any moment and ask him to try again.

Professor McGonagall did come over, but it wasn’t for Peter.

Some older man was giving a speech as she approached. “Mr. Lupin,” she said quietly, placing a bony hand on Remus’s shoulder, “If you would come to my office after dinner? It’s next to the Gryffindor common room, one of the prefects can show you.”

Remus nodded mutely, and the professor quickly left.

“What was that about?” James asked, “McGonagall wants to see you already?”

Even Sirius looked up now, curious. Remus shrugged, as if he didn’t care either way. There was no way he could’ve been in trouble yet – the Doctor’d been with him from the moment they’d arrived at the platform. But he didn’t have much time to dwell, as platters of food suddenly appeared on the table. It was a proper feast with golden roasted chickens, piles of crispy roast potatoes, plates of steaming carrots, and enormous jugs of rich dark gravy. 

Transparent ghosts had also entered the room. The Doctor would’ve assumed them to be holograms if he didn’t know better. But they went about, chatting to students.

Once dinner had been eaten, and dessert polished off, the students were all sent to their dormitories for the evening. The Doctor, Remus, James, Sirius, and Peter all followed the prefect, Frank Longbottom, through the various corridors. The Doctor did his best to keep an eye on his surroundings, but the convoluted paths and passageways didn’t make it particularly convenient or easy to navigate. Twice they were led through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. Around them, people in the portraits along the corridors moved, chatting with each other or the students that passed. After climbing more stairs, they reached the corridor in which they could spot Professor McGonagall’s office, which was marked with a neat brass plaque.

“I should go get this meeting over with,” Remus said, breaking away.

The Doctor and James made eye-contact, and James turned to Remus.

“Want us to wait for you, mate?”

“Why?” Remus asked, eyeing them both suspiciously.

James shrugged. “So you don’t end up on your own.”

Remus stared at him for a moment, before slowly shaking his head, “No I’m fine.”

“Do you want one of us to go with you?” The Doctor asked.

Remus shook his head, perhaps a touch more vigorously than was necessary. 

“All right,” James said gently, “We’ll see you back at the dormitory.”

“See ya,” Remus knocked on the door.

“Enter,” A voice came from within and Remus entered, shutting the door behind.

The Doctor and James shared a look before glancing back at Sirius and Peter.

The four of them went to catch back up with the rest of the House at the end of the corridor.

Frank was standing in front of a large painting of a rather large woman wearing pink.

“– the password’s going to change every so often, so make sure you keep on top of it. But for now, it’s Widdershins.”

As he said the word, the portrait moved away, swinging out like a door, and the students began pooling into the common room.

It was a cozy-looking room with massive squashy-looking sofas and armchairs, a thick maroon rug before a blazing fire, and even more painting adorning the walls. But they didn’t have much time to dwell there, as they were all ushered up a winding staircase in one of the corners, at the top of which were a series of doors, one of which the Doctor, Peter, and Sirius found their luggage in – hell of a coincidence that they were all in the same room.

The room, itself contained five massive beds – each hung with thick red velvet curtains with gold trim tassels – as well as another fireplace. Each boy had a heavy mahogany truck and a set of shelves by their beds. Propped up against the chests were each boy’s luggage.

As the others headed off to unpack, James hovered by the door. “I’m going to go wait for Remus.” He said, “So he knows the password.”

“I’ll join you,” The Doctor suggested.

“Nah, that’s okay,” James said, “I got this.”

The Doctor hesitated, before nodding and turning back to the room. He didn’t have any luggage, so there wasn’t exactly much to unpack. He was just wondering if he should put the Sonic Screwdriver on the shelf and call it a day, when there was a light tapping at the window.

Sirius groaned as he looked over and spotted an owl, patiently waiting in the window. “Mum’s already sent me a Howler.”

But when he opened the window for the bird, they found a small tag labeled: ‘Doctor’ in his own handwriting. And clutched in its foot was a long, light-coloured stick of wood.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, “Forget your wand?”

The Doctor carefully extracted the wand from the bird’s talons. It was a simple wand, nothing too ornate, maybe thirty-three centimeters long, made of beechwood if he had to guess. It looked old and long-used, with various scratches, scrapes, and dips in the wood. But he could still see, delicately carved into the handle, various curved shapes, resembling Gallifreyan knotwork, any and all sharp corners softened by the gentle hand of the maker – it was clear whoever had worked on it had a tremendous skill.

He glanced over to where Sirius was fidgeting with his own wand. His was a deep shade of black, flat, and smooth, it looked like something was carved into the side, but the Doctor couldn’t see what it was.

Peter seemed to notice where the Doctor was looking. “Do you want to see my wand?”

The Doctor smiled gently at him. “Sure.”

He opened his trunk and began looking through it. As time passed and he did not find it, Peter’s searching became more and more frantic.

“You sure it’s in there?” the Doctor asked.

“Mum made me pack it so I wouldn’t lose it on the train,” Peter moaned, “But it’s not here!”

“Pete,” James was grinning from the doorway, Remus standing right behind him, “Your mum asked me to look after it, remember?”

As Peter deflated in relief onto his bed, James went to give him his wand. As it turned out, the two boys had grown up as neighbors and knew each other quite well.

As the Doctor glanced over at Sirius, he noticed him sitting on his bed, trunk still packed, looking downright miserable.

The Doctor walked over and gently sat next to him. “You all right?”

“Five hundred years.” Sirius replied stonily. “Every Black at Hogwarts has been sorted into Slytherin for five hundred years.”

“Well, it’s about time someone tried to be different, eh?” James, who must’ve been listening in, slapped him on the back jovially as he whisked around the room, unpacking.

“But this is what I wanted,” Sirius said, “I wanted this. It’s all my fault. My parents are never going to forgive me –”

“Sirius,” The Doctor said, “The hat is…” He searched for the word a moment, “intuitive. Your wants play a role, yes, but also what you value and who you want to be. I know it’s easier to follow your family, but it’s clearly not what you really want. You have to make your own way – be your own person. And they have to let you.”

“Yeah…” He glanced up at the Doctor, “You know a lot about this, don’t you?”

He hesitated. “I know that trying to be who they want you to be, it won’t work. If you become someone you don’t believe in, you’ll only end up hurt and alone.”

“Are you…Are you okay?”

The Doctor laughed softly, “Course I’m okay, I’m always okay.”

Sirius must have recognized something in the Doctor’s eyes, as he breathed out, “Yeah, me too.”

Finally, Sirius began to unpack.

The Doctor headed over to James’s bed, helping pin up a poster on the wall – it showed a great number of small people zooming around on broomsticks, throwing balls to each other. Some sort of magic sport, he theorized.

“You know,” James suddenly said, “There’s a library here.”

The Doctor looked over to see Sirius was pulling out book after book from his trunk. Those he couldn’t fit on his shelf, he was stacking beside his bed.

Sirius smirked. “I know, but these are mostly muggle books. My Uncle Alphard left them to me, and mum would set them all on fire if I left them at home.”

The Doctor frowned, “Why would she do that?”

Sirius looked up at him with a raised eyebrow as he pulled out a large record player, followed by a box of brand new looking records in shining bright sleeves.

“Is that Abbey Road?” Remus asked, peering into the box of vinyl.

“Yeah,” Sirius grinned, handing it to him. 

The Doctor watched as Remus wiped his hands carefully on his robes before taking it from him. He was handling it very carefully, clearly knowing their worth.

“You must be muggle born,” Sirius said, “Never met a wizard who knows the Beatles – except my cousin, Andromeda. She bought them for me.”

“I love the Beatles,” Remus smiled, seemingly forgetting himself a moment, “one of the boys in my room at home’s got at least ten singles, but he never lets me touch them.”

“Boys at home?” James asked.

“You mean your brother?” Sirius suggested.

“No,” Remus shook his head, handing back the record and shrinking away, “I live in a children’s home.”

“Like an orphanage?” Peter asked, wide-eyed. This seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

“No,” Remus spat out quickly.

The Doctor couldn’t help but look back to the bruise over his eye.

Remus seemed to notice this and quickly turned around to unpack the rest of his things in silence.

The Doctor made eye-contact with James, as if to say, I’ve got this one. 

James seemed to understand, as he started up a conversation with Sirius about something called Quidditch, which soon became a very heated argument.

“Go away.” Remus gritted out as the Doctor sat down next to him.

“I know this isn’t easy for you, Remus,” The Doctor said gently, “But we are here for you. And I understand –”

“Oh piss off and go cry to your parents.”

Ice water dripped down his spine as the Doctor quickly tried to disguise any expression his face might have made.

“We’re here for you, Remus,” He reiterated as he rose to his feet, “And I do understand.”

The Doctor moved to his own bed. Remus looked at him, then back at his now empty trunk, before closing it and climbing into bed, drawing back all the curtains.

“You’d think he’d try harder to make friends,” Peter whispered loudly, “Especially if he’s muggle born.”

The Doctor went to make a retort, but it was Sirius who got to it first.

“You sure the hat wasn’t supposed to put you in Slytherin?”

Peter was quiet after that.

The Doctor lay back in his four-poster, listening to the other four boys fall asleep.

He was still laying there awake by morning.

Chapter Text

Remus was not particularly subtle in his attempt to avoid his dorm-mates as much as possible for the first week of school. The Doctor suspected this was a technique he’d used before, likely at the boy’s home he’d mentioned to be living in. Yes, the Doctor had noticed how James, Peter, and Sirius all seemed to come from money. This was something Remus seemed extremely conscious and wary of.

The Doctor had tried to accompany him, as Remus would go for walks about the castle, but Remus refused every time. So it wasn’t a big surprise when, after dinner on Sunday evening, Remus disappeared. It was, however, very strange when he didn’t come back.

It was late Monday morning when Remus came rushing into the room looking absolutely exhausted.

“Where were you?” James got to him first. He, the Doctor, Peter, and Sirius were already dressed for class – James and Sirius had both pitched in to lend the Doctor some clothes, as they insisted that he couldn’t just wear the same pinstripe suit and trenchcoat everywhere because it was ‘abnormal’ and ‘made him look totally insane.’

“Nowhere,” Remus said grumpily, pushing past to get to his things.

The Doctor frowned, “Are you all right, Remus?”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, “You’re looking a bit off.”

Remus scowled at the four of them, “Piss off.”

“We’re just being nice.” Peter said, hands on his hips.

Remus went to remove his t-shirt, before becoming acutely aware of the four boys looking at him.

“What?” He growled at them, “You all gonna watch me get dressed? You posh boys are all a bunch of poofs.”

He marched into the bathroom with his clothes and slammed the door.

James, Sirius, Peter, and the Doctor all exchanged a look.

“Should we wait for him?” Sirius finally said.

James frowned, “He’s been really distant lately. I wonder if something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, but…” Peter hesitated, looking between his three friends, “He’s kinda been a jerk lately. And besides, I’m starving.”

“I think we should wait.” James decided.

“How long do you think he’ll take?” Sirius asked. “Do we even know if he’s coming to breakfast?”

“How about you three go ahead,” The Doctor suggested, “I’ll stay back and wait for Remus.” Before James could argue back, the Doctor insisted, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to him about anyway.”

James hesitated before nodding. “All right,” and leading himself, Sirius, and Peter out of the room.

The Doctor stood there a while, waiting for Remus to emerge from the bathroom. When he finally did, he looked more than surprised to see the Doctor waiting for him.

“What are you still doing here?” He demanded.

“I’m worried about you, Remus.”

Remus opened his mouth to make a retort, when the Doctor spoke again, “I know you’re trying to push away your friends. I know you’re in a new environment and scared and trying to keep your head down because you know people can’t reject you if they don’t notice you. But something else is going on. And you don’t need to tell me about it if you don’t want to, but let me help you.”

Remus scowled, “And how do you expect to help me? You don’t know anything about me.”

“No,” The Doctor agreed, “No, I don’t. So let me learn.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“I’m not rich, Remus.” Remus looked over at the Doctor as he spoke, momentarily caught off-guard by the change in topic. “I’ve seen the way you’ve observed the others. The way you’ve started trying to stop dropping your ‘H’s’ so much. How you’ve begun trying to enunciate your vowels more. I know you see them as too posh to ever understand the way you’ve struggled, and to an extent, that’s true. But I do understand, Remus.” He laughed slightly, “I haven’t got a penny to my name – much like you, I should think. I know what it’s like to be alone. I know what it’s like to lose –” He choked slightly. “– to lose everything. I understand, Remus. Let me be there for you.”

Remus stared up at him, blinking back the tears in his eyes, “You don’t understand,” He said thickly, “I can’t tell you.”

“Is someone threatening you, Remus?”

He shook his head. “I just can’t.”

The Doctor took a deep breath before nodding. “Just know that I’m here. When you’re ready. I’m here.”

Remus nodded, sniffling a bit as he wiped his eyes. “Thanks.”

The Doctor and Remus walked to breakfast together, both feeling a world lighter.

Hogwarts was…complicated. There were one hundred and forty-two staircases: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; one even had a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn’t open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, or solid walls just pretending. Everything was constantly moving – the people in portraits visiting each other, coats of armour roaming around on their own.

It all seemed rather inconvenient and unnecessary. Why anyone would enchant such things in a school, the Doctor hadn’t a clue. For people who wanted students to be in class on time, they sure weren’t helping their cause.

And the classes themselves weren’t as easy as one might expect. Every Wednesday at midnight, they had to study the night skies through their telescopes and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Whilst this might seem like no problem to the Doctor, unfortunately, this wasn’t the most accurate year for star positioning and planetary movement, and his answers were often struck-down for their perceived inaccuracies (No, Saturn actually had eighty- three moons, one of them was just invisible). Then three times a week they went out to the green houses behind the castle to study Herbology with Professor Sprout, where they learned to take care of all the strange plants and fungi and what they were used for.

Then there was History of Magic, the only class taught by a ghost, Professor Binns, who had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. He would drone on and on whilst the students scribbled down names and dates – It didn’t take long for the Doctor to be banned from answering questions – though that didn’t stop him – for going on long 'ludicrous' tangents about odd moments in history.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a petit wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. It was by far the most exciting class, as the professor enchanted a pile of pinecones to whiz around the room, and after a few goes at the spell themselves, Lily Evans had managed to levitate her pinecone a meter or so in the air, Sirius got his to spin like a top, Remus had managed a slight jump or two, and the Doctor managed to bust a hole in the ceiling.

Professor McGonagall was different. She certainly wasn’t a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” She’d said. “Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

Yet, she possessed none of the cruelty of those teachers the Doctor had been taught under at the Academy. She had a twinkle in her eye as she changed her desk into a pig and back again. The students were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but were quickly told that there would be no practical work at all during the first week, and would be receiving lots of homework in order to gauge their ability levels.

Potions class, however, intrigued the Doctor. It was all chemistry, wasn’t it? And he was brilliant at chemistry.

The Gryffindors shared the class with the Slytherin first years. The professor, Professor Slughorn, was an overly enthusiastic man, who reveled in getting to know his students, taking nearly half an hour just to read the register.

“Black, Sirius – aha, there you are! Quite surprised at the sorting, my boy, quite surprised! I’ve had every one of the Blacks in my house since I started teaching! Shan’t take it personally, young Sirius, but I shall be expecting great things!”

Sirius looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up as the professor continued to call out names.

“A Potter and a Pettigrew, eh? Well, well, along with Mr. Black here, this class has quite the pedigree, eh? Let me see…Lupin! I knew your father; not one of mine, but a damn good dualist. Nasty business…”

The whole class had their eyes on Remus now. By now, many of the students knew the boy had been raised in a children’s home and that his father was magical (the Doctor suspected Peter had been talking a little too loud at breakfast before Remus and the Doctor had arrived), but he had heard rumors that the boy was potentially violent, possibly in a gang. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe Remus hadn’t heard them, too. Yet, whilst Remus ducked his head to avoid the looks, he didn’t seem all that bothered.

“Smith! I believe I had your mother, Romilda –”

“Not mine, sorry,” The Doctor said, “Very common name.”

“Ah, yes, I see. Then perhaps a relative of yours, Phillius –”

“Nope!”

“Barath –”

The Doctor shook his head, “Sorry.”

“Oh, well, then,” Professor Slughorn said, and hurried to call out the next name.

Fortunately, Professor Slughorn wanted the students to get started on practical work as quickly as possible. 

“Best thing is to just get stuck in!” He smiled, “Now, if we all work four to a cauldron, you can all take it in turns to follow the steps…”

Everyone clamoured to pair up – James, Sirius, and Peter immediately claimed the cauldron at the very back of the room, and were joined by Nathaniel Quince, a Slytherin boy the Doctor was pretty sure James and Peter knew from home.

Remus was eyeing the back of the room, as if wondering if he could sneak back there.

“John!”

The Doctor turned around to see Lily calling over to him. “Come join us!”

She was sharing a cauldron with a boy named Severous Snape – the very same long-nosed boy who’d been looking for her back on the train – as well as Garrick Mulciber, a fellow Slytherin boy.

The Doctor lightly tugged on Remus’s arm in a leading manner, “Come on, then.”

The Doctor led a cautious Remus towards where Lily was already chattering away, laying out all the ingredients and heating up the cauldron carefully. She was looking at Severus’s book, which already had notes scribbled all over the margins.

“He said we needed a group of four.” Severus said, eyeing Remus.

“Well, there’s twenty steps,” The Doctor reasoned, “And there’s an uneven number of students. We can still split it up evenly.”

“Here’s the desiccated snail-eye stems,” Lily said, shaking a tiny jar, “I think we need quarter of an ounce…”

“You can be fairley liberal with them, Lily,” Severus turned back to her, “They don’t add much overall.”

Lily measured them out anyway and tipped them into the bubbling brew.

The Doctor peered over at Severus’s textbook. “Oh, very good,” He examined the mild notes and corrections he’d made, “You’re right clever, aren’t you?”

Severus scowled at him, but elected to ignore the Doctor's comment, as he passed the book to Garrick and instructed him how fast and in what direction to stew the potion.

It was Remus’s turn after that, so Lily handed the book over. The boy stared at the page, as if trying to decipher the words, looking slightly sick, before shrugging and looking away.

“Oh hurry up,” Severus snapped, “It’s not that difficult.”

“Leave him alone, Sev,” Lily chided. “The book’s covered in your notes, no wonder he can’t find his place. Here, Remus,” she flicked open her own, brand new potion’s book. Remus looked down, before shrugging again.

“Why don’t you do it, if you’re so clever,” he spat at Severus.

“Oh, Merlin,” Severus’s lips curled, “You can read, can’t you? I mean, even muggle schools teach that, surely?”

“Oi!” The Doctor snapped, “Just because you’re –”

But whatever else the Doctor had to say didn’t matter, as Remus had already thrown himself over the desk and into Severus, fists flying.

Mulciber managed to grab his collar and yank him back, punching him square in the face, only for the Doctor to grab him and physically pull the two apart.

“Stop!” Professor Slughorn boomed.

The entire classroom froze.

The portly potions master stormed over. The scene, admittedly, wasn’t looking good. The Doctor was gripping Remus, who looked much like a feral cat, with a bruise beginning to form on his chin, and Garrick, who was scowling, but noticeably unharmed. Severus, on the other hand, was looking much worse off with his hair ruffled and blood oozing from his nose.

“Explain yourselves!” The professor shouted.

Severus and Remus both looked at their feet. Garrick was grinning. Lily was crying.

“Well, you see –” The Doctor said, but the professor cut him off.

“No, I want to hear it from one of you,” He looked pointedly at Severus and Remus.

When neither boy went to respond, he crossly said, “Very well. Detention for both of you for two weeks. Ten points from Gryffindor and ten from Slytherin.”

“That’s not fair!” James said, suddenly from the back, “Should be twice as many from Slytherin, it was two against one!”

“What about Smith?” Garrick shouted back.

“From where I was standing,” Professor Slughorn said loudly, “It was Mr. Lupin who started it. Still, Mr. Potter, you are quite right – Mulciber, five points for punching Remus. Violence does not solve violence, you know, as I’ve told your eldest brother on a number of occasions. As far as Mr. Smith is concerned, he seemed to be the only one trying to de-escalate the situation. I will award you five points. Miss Evans, please take Mr. Snape to the hospital wing. Mr. Lupin, you can clean up the mess you’ve made.”

The Doctor went to help Remus, and whilst Professor Slughorn initially protested, he seemingly didn’t care enough to stop him at the Doctor’s insistence.

Neither boy knew any cleaning spells, so Remus mopped the floor by hand as the Doctor cleaned Severus’s blood off the flagstones.

“You don’t have to help, you know.” Remus said as he wrung the mop.

The Doctor hummed pleasantly. “I know.”

Remus didn’t respond, but from the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see the boy smiling to himself.

James, Sirius, and Peter were waiting for the two of them outside after the lesson was finished.

“Bloody brilliant, mate,” James punched Remus lightly in the arm as they made their way over. “The way you went for him!”

“Mulciber was out here bragging afterwards, told everyone what Snape said.” Sirius added, “You were right to do it – what a prat.”

“Told… everyone?” Remus moaned.

“Don’t worry, they’re all on your side.” James said, “Well, except the Slytherins.”

“Yeah, and who gives a toss about the Slytherins?” Sirius grinned, “C’mon, it’s dinner soon – hungry?”

Remus grinned back. “Starving.”

The five of them set off for the Great Hall, feeling closer than ever.

“So,” James said on Sunday evening, “How are we going to get them back?”

“Get who back?” Peter asked without looking up from his work.

They were in the Gryffindor common room, trying to do their homework for Professor McGonagall. Fourteen inches on the basic laws of transfiguration. Sirius and James had finished theirs mostly on their own, the Doctor had been helping Peter, who was just past six inches in now, and he was pretty sure that Remus hadn’t started his yet.

“The Slytherins,” James hissed, “Keep up, Pete.”

“Hold on,” The Doctor said, “Are you trying to get revenge?”

“Yep!” James said, leaning back in his chair.

“But not against all the Slytherins, right?” Peter asked, sounding worried, “Only Snape and Mulciber.”

“All of them,” Sirius confirmed. “How far are you on your homework, Peter? You almost done?”

“Almost!” Peter nodded.

“Have you done it, Lupin?” Sirius looked over.

The Doctor could see that Remus had opened his book, but he didn’t seem to be doing much reading. After the potions lesson, it had occurred to him that Remus might not have been taught to read particularly well. Or perhaps he had a reading disability such as dyslexia, hyperlexia, or perhaps dysgraphia. He had offered help, but he didn’t want to be too pushy and embarrass the boy in front of his roommates. Perhaps he would just have to wait until he was on his own.

“Nah,” Remus said to Sirius casually, “Can’t be bothered.”

“Let us know if you need help.” Sirius offered.

“You can copy mine if you want,” James pushed his across the desk. Remus pushed it back, gritting his teeth.

“I’m fine. I’m not stupid.”

“No one said you were,” James said.

The room lapsed into silence for a few minutes, filled only by the scribbling of quill on parchment.

“We could put itching powder in their beds,” Remus finally suggested, “Or on their clothes…if we could figure out who does the laundry, anyway.”

Yes, the dirty laundry appeared to simply vanish and resurface, clean and folded in their trunks. It wasn’t much of a point of concern for the Doctor, as this wasn’t exactly advanced technology, but it seemed to bother some of the other Muggle-born boys in the class.

“I like it,” James replied, chewing his quill. “Anyone got any itching powder, though?”

Sirius, Peter, and Remus all shook their heads.

“Or perhaps,” the Doctor said, “We shouldn’t go out for revenge. They’ll only retaliate and make things worse.”

James snorted. “All right, mum.”

“Hey, James, if you let me borrow your owl, I could order some from Zonko’s,” Sirius said. “Mum confiscated mine after the sorting.”

“I s’pose,” James replied. “Wish we could do it sooner, though. You know, strike while the iron is hot.”

“You don’t need to buy itching powder,” Remus suddenly said, “Do you reckon they have rose hips in the greenhouse?”

“Yep,” Peter spoke, head still burrowed in his parchment, “For healing potions – arthritis, I think.”

“The hairs inside make you itch really bad,” Remus explained, gaining enthusiasm as he spoke, “Matron – the woman who runs the children’s home – she grows them, and if you get in trouble she makes you seed them without gloves on.” His fingertips twitched, as if getting phantom pains, just thinking about it.

“That’s awful,” James said.

The Doctor frowned deeply. It was awful. Perhaps he would have to intervene when Remus was sent back the following summer.

“Good idea, though!” Sirius grinned. “Next break, we’ll go and get a load of them. Then we can seed them – with gloves on – and put them in the Slytherin’s bedsheets. Excellent!”

The Doctor sighed, “This seems like a horrible idea.”

“Come on, Doc,” James whined, “It’s not a big deal. This is normal kid stuff, so long as the professors don’t catch us, no one will even notice.”

The Doctor frowned. “This is normal? This is what all human children do?”

Sirius laughed, “Yeah, mate. All us ‘human children’ do stuff like this.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened, “And it’s not a big deal to them? They’ll know it’s a joke?”

James nodded, “A harmless prank.”

“So you in?” Sirius asked.

The Doctor hesitated. “I suppose…if it’s normal…and human…”

“Very human.” Sirius promised.

“Brilliant!” James said, “So that’s everyone.”

“But how are we going to get into the Slytherin dorms?” Peter asked, putting down his quill.

“Leave it to me,” James smirked mischievously.

Getting the rose hips wasn’t all that difficult. They sent the Doctor in during morning break to distract the Herbology professor whilst Peter, small and sneaky, was able to creep in unseen and return with a gleeful face and a jar full of rose hips under his cloak.

The five of them locked themselves away in their shared bathroom to seed all of the buds. Under Remus’s close instruction, all but the Doctor wore their heavy dragon hide gloves to do this – the Doctor insisted that it was unnecessary, as he had ‘superior hands’.

“Ah, yes,” Sirius had teased, “Superior alien hands over us, human children.”

James snorted as he continued to seed, “That would explain a lot, you being alien.”

“Careful!” Remus called from atop the bathtub, “You don’t want to touch the little seeds or hairs.”

Sirius grinned down at his rose hips, “I can’t see the looks on their faces.”

The Doctor glanced over at Remus. He was watching James and Sirius with an unreadable look on his face. Envy? No, not quite. Jealousy, perhaps…

Sirius and James did have a lot in common – they both were raised into magic, both had grown up quite wealthy, both were completely mad about quidditch, and in addition to all that, after only three weeks of being here, they’d managed to both secure a reputation as joint kings of the first years – people listened when they spoke, people laughed when they were funny, people didn’t get annoyed if they lost house points. It was understandable why Remus might be jealous.

“I still don’t know we’re going to get into the Slytherin dorms,” Sirius said, “Even Peter isn’t that sneaky.” He glanced at James – he'd been trying to get him to reveal his plan ever since the bespeckled boy had mentioned it.

“Let me worry about that,” was all James said.

The seeds and hairs were then decanted into another jar, and the boys ended up eating the leftover rose hips over the course of the week.

It was Tuesday evening when they finally had their chance. James decided that they would have to do it before everyone went to bed. He also decided that they ought to go to the Slytherin dorms separately, to avoid being seen together and discovered. The Doctor, personally, felt like it was overkill, but decided not to argue.

They ate dinner much quicker than usual that evening, before getting up from the table one at a time and leaving the hall. Peter looked so nervous that the Doctor decided to get up and walk behind him, giving him a comforting smile as he glanced back anxiously, before splitting up again as they left the hall.

The Doctor was the first to arrive to their agreed meeting location – girl’s loo on the second floor where Remus had informed them had a passage that led to the dungeons. As he creaked the door open, he heard a wrenching sob.

“Hello?”

The sobbing paused, “What do you want?”

It was a girl’s voice – a young girl’s voice. 

“Are you all right?”

“No!” The voice cried out, a swooping noise passing by the door. “What are you even doing here? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Er, I’m supposed to meet some friends here,” The Doctor admitted, “Is that all right?

“Do what you want!” The voice cried, “No one cares about me, anyway. Who would care about miserable Moaning Myrtle!”

As the Doctor pushed the door open, he found himself face to face with a ghost. But not just any ghost – the ghost of a young girl, she couldn’t have been older than fourteen, with lank hair and thick glasses. She had ghostly tears running down her translucent face.

“Ello,” The Doctor said gently, “I’m the Doctor. You must be Myrtle, eh?”

“Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” The Doctor asked, “You seem like a lovely girl.”

Myrtle’s translucent cheeks gained a small amount of pale colour. “Don’t tease me, Doctor, that’s cruel.”

“I’m not teasing,” The Doctor insisted, “Promise. So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Everything!”

The door slammed open and James, Remus, Peter, and Sirius came flying in.

Myrtle screamed and flew above them.

“It’s all right, these are just the friends I was talking about,” The Doctor said, “Myrtle, this is James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter. You lot, this is Myrtle.”

“I know her, she’s Moaning Myrtle,” James said, “That’s why I picked this place to meet – No one comes in here.”

Myrtle let out another sob and thrust herself into one of the toilets, disappearing into the pipes.

The boys exchanged a look.

“Right,” James said, addressing Remus “So where’s this passage, then?”

Remus turned to make his way towards the passage, only for Sirius to grab James’s arm.

“Wait, show us what you’re planning, first.”

James smirked. “Oh…okay then, here, hold this,” He thrust the jar of rosehip seeds into Sirius’s hands, pulling back his robes.

He produced a very long, voluminous cloak, woven from a very strange fabric, all silvery, gray, and shimmering.

“So,” Sirius gasped, “You haven’t, Potter, you bloody haven’t…”

“Haven’t what?” The Doctor asked.

James was grinning even more broadly now. He winked at his four roommates, then, with a flourish, swept the cloak over his head so that it covered him tip to toe. He vanished.

“You jammy bastard!” Sirius whooped, “How come you never told me?”

“You never told me, either!” Peter squeaked, “And I’ve known you forever. Where did you get it?”

James pulled the hood of the cloak down, so that his head appeared to float in midair. “Been in the family for years.” He said, triumphantly, “Dad let me bring it, as long as I don’t tell mum.”

“Oh, that is fascinating,” The Doctor breathed, grabbing some of the invisible material and scanning it with the Screwdriver. “Just beautiful.”

“Lucky git,” Sirius said, rubbing the cloak between his fingers, “My parents would do anything for an invisibility cloak.”

“I reckon we can all fit under it,” James demonstrated, pulling it apart and raising his arms like a bat. “C’mon, let’s all get nice and cozy…”

They all shuffled beneath the cloak, then tried waddling up and down the room a few times until they were able to walk semi-comfortably together. Finally, the five invisible boys made their way to the dungeons, Remus showing them which tiles to tap in order for the floor to open up in the third stall from the left.

“How’d you manage to find this?” The Doctor whispered to Remus.

“You come out behind one of them rugs they hang on the walls in the dungeons,” Remus replied, “I just looked behind it.”

“Do you mean a tapestry?” Peter asked.

“Um…s’pose so?” Remus said.

Sensing his embarrassment at the misidentification, the Doctor piped up, “You know, I once wove a tapestry for the viscountess of Boslovolia. I’ll admit it was a bit rubbish, but in my defense, I hadn’t cycled in a half a century.”

He could almost feel the eyebrow James had raised at him. “You were…cycling?”

“I would’ve won that race too, if it weren’t for that bloody street lamp.”

“Street lamp?”

“Yeah, well, I say street lamp – See, Boslovolia’s got these creatures called Nillamods that hide in the street lamps –”

“Yep, it’s official, he’s mad.” James determined, “Now be quiet, all of you. We’re almost there.”

They waited quietly on their side of the tapestry, listening for footsteps in the corridor outside. Once James was satisfied that it was quiet, they all clambered out of the passage. The dungeons were cool, dimly lit, and cavernous. There was a strange dripping sound coming from somewhere – perhaps the pipes.

The Doctor frowned, “I hate sleeping in dungeons. It seems somewhat cruel to force students to live there.”

There was the slight sound of fabric shifting.

“You’ve done a lot of weird stuff, haven’t you?” James finally said.

“Eh, suppose I have.”

“Hold on,” Sirius said as they boys slowed to a halt, “So where is the entrance?”

“Behind that wall,” Remus said, pulling the cloak, as if pointing, towards the direction of a plain brick wall.

“How’d you know?” James asked.

“I’ve seen them go in before,” Remus said hurriedly.

The Doctor frowned, but didn’t press it. “You know the password, then?”

“Nope.”

“Damn.” Sirius said.

“It’s not curfew yet,” James pointed out, “Let’s just wait.”

So they did, rather uncomfortably. Though the corridor was dank, it was unnecessarily warm beneath the cloak, especially with all five of them so close together. Fortunately, two seventh year students came hurrying through in the next few minutes. Unfortunately, Sirius knew them.

“Let’s see the ring again, Bella!” The younger girl pleaded to the older. The Doctor could feel Sirius stiffen, pressing himself backwards into the wall.

The older girl preened, extending a long, ivory arm. On her bony finger was an enormous silver and emerald engagement ring. Ah, so this must be Bellatrix Black – Sirius had been complaining about the way she’d been flashing the ring since the start of term. Apparently the young girl was set to marry some wizard politician named Rodolphus Lestrange as soon as she finished her exams. Sirius was upset because he had to go to the wedding.

The younger girl – Bellatrix’s younger sister, Narcissa, if the Doctor was remembering Sirius’s rant correctly – squealed when she saw it.

“Gorgeous!” She gushed, “Oh, I can’t wait to get married…”

“Wait your turn,” Bellatrix replied, “Once Lucius has a better position with the ministry, I’m sure Mummy and Daddy will agree to the match.”

The two young girls were standing before the brick wall now. Bellatrix was the taller of the two, but they looked very alike, indeed. They both had long, black curly hair – much like Sirius himself – and the same perfect Black family bone structure.

“Mundus sanguine,” Bellatrix announced, and the wall slid aside to let them in.

World of Blood? The Doctor translated quickly, but didn’t have much time to ponder, as he and the other four Gryffindors were forced to make a lunge for the entrance before it closed.

The Slytherin dormitory was starkly different from the Gryffindor dormitory. It was built like a massive banquet hall, rather than a sitting room. The walls were richly decorated with yet more elegant tapestries. The fireplace was large and ornately carved, and a ghoulish green pallor hung over everything. It felt almost ominous. It certainly didn’t help the Doctor’s tracking theory – you surround a bunch of damaged kids from destructive families with other kids like them, label them evil, then put them in a room full of ominous decour…What do they expect to happen?

The other boys seemed equally uneasy, and froze until James prodded them forward, up a flight of stairs, which they hoped led to the boy’s dormitories. On their way, they passed by Severus, who was sitting all alone in the corner, hunched over his potions textbook. The Doctor couldn’t help but think that if he applied himself in the right ways, Severus could be a right successful lad.

At the top of the stairs, they entered the first open door, which was, thankfully, a bedroom.

James threw off the cloak.

“Keep a look out, eh Petey?” He said, hurrying into the room. “Reckon one of these is Snape's bed?”

“This one might be,” Sirius pointed, “Sheets look greasy enough.”

The Doctor frowned. “This seems like a terrible idea,”

“But I thought you wanted to do normal human things,” James teased.

“Yeah,” Sirius added, “This is what normal human children do.”

The Doctor frowned, “This feels like chemical warfare.”

“It’s like banter,” James promised, “They jab us, we jab them – no hard feelings, no harm done. Don’t worry about it, it’ll be great!”

That did sound…reasonable. The Doctor had, admittedly, not all that much experience with human children. He’d interacted with them, sure, and they weren’t all that different from Gallifreyan children, but to walk amongst them was an entirely different experience. He was suddenly confronted with the fact that he was entirely out of his depth.

“Quick then, lads, gloves on,” James whispered, unscrewing the jar. Remus and Sirius pulled on a dragon hide gloves each, grabbed a handful of seeds, and began scattering them beneath the bedclothes.

“They’ll see them!” James said, sounding disappointment as he realized how starkly the red seeds stood out amongst the white sheets, even in the dark.

“Well…they’ll still get it on them trying to brush them out,” Sirius offered.

“Hang on…” Remus suddenly said. He whipped out his wand, bit his lip, and waved it generally over the bed he had just scattered with seeds, “Obfuscate.”

And just like that, the seeds vanished.

“Blimey!” James stared, “How’d you do that? Flitwick hasn’t taught us that charm yet, has he? Was it in the reading?”

“Nah,” Remus shrugged, “I saw some of the fifth years doing it yesterday to some sweets they bought in the village. S’not hard to copy.”

The Doctor grinned, “Remus, that’s brilliant! You’re brilliant.”

Remus’s face was tinged with pink as he moved on to the next bed. James and Sirius attempted the spell themselves, though it didn’t work the first time. Or the second. By the third, James had managed to vanish most of his.

“You’d better do it, Lupin, or we’ll be here all night.” He decided.

“Yes, please hurry up!” Peter hissed from the doorway, face pale with anxiety.

Sirius tried a few more times before giving up and letting Remus take over.

“You’re going to show me exactly how to do that as soon as we’re back on neutral territory,” He said.

“Next room,” James announced, pulling the five of them back to the entranceway.

“Do we have to?” Peter asked meekly, hopping from foot to foot, “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not even close!” Sirius replied with a laugh, tossing his head, “What if we haven’t even got Snape’s bed yet? We have to get them all, Pete – well, all the boys, anyway. I don’t fancy our chances getting into the girl’s. Are you with us or not?”

The Doctor frowned, “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to. I’m sure Pete and I can find a way to sneak out now –”

“We’ve only got one cloak,” James pointed out, “Come on, there’s not even that many.”

They worked quickly and managed to get every single boys room. Even the last one, which had three sleeping sixth-year students in it. Even Sirius had begged off going in there, but Remus was giddy with excitement and threw on the invisibility cloak to go in himself.

By the time they’d finished, it was getting late and more and more Slytherins were heading upstairs for bed. The five Gryffindors hid beneath the cloak and slowly crept back down the stairs, flattening themselves against the way anytime someone was coming, then through the enormous stately common room and out through the wall the way they’d came.

Just as James had instructed, they all kept as quiet as possible until they were within spotting distance of the Gryffindor tower, and it was finally safe to remove the cloak once more.

“Cutting it fine, lads, been somewhere interesting?” Frank the prefect asked once they’d pushed their way through the portrait hole and dropped onto the nearest sofa.

Peter looked uncertain, but James just waved a hand, “Library, obviously.”

Frank shook his head, though he was smiling. “I’m sure I’ll hear about it soon enough.”

“I wish I could be there when it all kicks off!” Sirius whispered, his eyes shining with mischievous glee, “And I wish even more we could have got my cousins.”

“It’s just the beginning, Sirius mate,” James replied, slapping the other boy’s knee. “Between the five of us, I reckon we could go even bigger next time. Excellent first mission, men!”

Peter whimpered. “ First mission?”

The Doctor silently observed the set of boys on the sofa. This was certainly going to be an interesting year.

Chapter Text

The Doctor found himself being half-dragged by the rest of his dorm-mates down to breakfast the next morning. They were practically vibrating with excitement as they clambered into the Great Hall. Aside from a few Ravenclaws bent over their NEWT revision books with large mugs of coffee, they were the first ones in the hall.

“Perfect,” Sirius beamed at the empty benches, “First row seats!”

“Bet no one shows up for hours.” Peter groaned, still half-asleep and propped up on his elbows.

“Oh cheer up,” James poured them all large mugs of tea, “Don’t want to see the fruits of our labour?”

“Not at six in the morning.” Peter replied, slurping his tea. Sirius winced at the sound and pushed a plate towards him.

“Have some toast and stop whining.”

Remus, looking spoiled for choice, took some toast too, cutting it into four pieces and spreading marmalade on one quarter, jam on another, butter on the third, and lemon curd on the last. The Doctor found himself faintly wondering if the boy had ever had so many options before.

They didn’t have to wait too long before the other students began to trickle into the Hall for breakfast. The first Slytherins who arrived were third years, three boys and two girls. They walked over to their table, quite unaware of the peering first year eyes that were trained on them. For a few moments, it was as though nothing was different. Sirius sighed with disappointment. But then, the tallest boy shuffled slightly in his seat, rubbing his arm. Another seemed to be pretending to look for something in his pocket, but was clearly scratching his leg furiously. The third kept rubbing behind his ear with a wand.

“It worked!” James whispered, breathless with excitement. Even Peter looked cheerful. The Doctor was a little less enthusiastic. His hesitancy and unsurety was coming back in full force as more and more Slytherins filtered in.

Dread, regret, and horror at his own actions began to pool in the Doctor’s stomach as the Slytherin table filled with squirming, writhing, and scratching boys alongside horrified-looking girls. Amycus Carrow, a burley sixth year, eventually ripped off his robes, school jumper, and even his tie to claw at his chest, which was already raw and red.

And then Severus walked in. It seemed like sheer luck that he seemed to react particularly badly to the rosehip seeds. He walked in with his head bowed, hair falling over his face, but his nose was still visible and clearly bright red.

“Oh Merlin!” Sirius wheezed, laughing so hard that he was holding his stomach. “Tell me we got his face!”

“Oi, Snivellus!” James yelled out, suddenly, to get the other boy’s attention.

Severus spun around, looking up. His hair parted to reveal the left side of his face was covered in an angry red rash, from his temples all the way down to his neck that disappeared under his uniform. His left eye was red as well, the lid swollen and irritated.

“Looking good!” Sirius crowed as he, Peter, James, and Remus dissolved into giggles as Severus stormed out of the room.

By the time breakfast was over, the entire castle was buzzing with rumors about what exactly had come over the Slytherin boys.

“We need to find a way to fix this,” The Doctor decided as they left the Great Hall, “I’m thinking an antifungal –”

“No, this was brilliant!” James insisted.

“That was chemical warfare!”

“Chill out –”

“Chill out?” The Doctor demanded, “We could have seriously hurt somebody.”

“That’s what Madam Pomfrey’s for,” Sirius shrugged before turning back to the others, “so what shall we do to celebrate, eh? Exploding snap? Raid the kitchens?”

Remus shook Sirius off, smiling politely. “Well, whatever you do, you’re doing it without me. I’ve got double detention.”

“From Slughorn?” James asked.

“Yeah, and McGonagall. And Flitwick, but that’s tomorrow. Then my Herbology detention is over the weekend.”

“Bloody hell mate,” James frowned, “You going for a record or something?”

Remus just shrugged.

“Maybe you’d better start doing your homework.” Sirius suggested gently. Remus rolled his eyes, getting up from the table.

“C’mon,” he said, “It’s Defense Against the Dark Arts first, I thought you two loved that.”

The Doctor followed the four of them to their next class feeling sick to his stomach.

“Ma’am, I just really think an antifungal powder would be far more effective than a cream –”
“I assure you that I have it handled, Mr. Smith,” Madam Pomfrey insisted as she attempted, again, to usher the Doctor out the door of the hospital wing. “The students will be fine. As much as I appreciate your concern, you ought to be on your way.”

The Doctor, recognizing that he would get no further, took his leave, making his way back through the corridors of the school.

As he wandered, he found himself running into Lily Evans. The two of them exchanged a smile and she fell into step with him.

“Hi, John, was it?”

“Just call me the Doctor.”

“Right…” She shook her head, “Did you hear what happened with the Slytherins today?”

“Yeah,” The Doctor said quietly, “Yeah, I did. It was right awful. I saw Severus this morning, is he all right? I know you two are friends.”

“He’ll be okay,” Lily said, “Madam Pomfrey says he was allergic to whatever was used, but she gave him a sleeping draught while the swelling went down.”

“Good, good.” The Doctor said.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they crossed the threshold into the courtyard to take a shortcut through the grass.

“You and Remus are friends, right?”

The Doctor quirked his head a touch, “Yeah, I suppose we are. Why?”

“Nothing,” Lily said, “I just saw him a few minutes ago on the way to tell Slughorn that Severus couldn’t make it to detention.”

The Doctor nodded, and after another moment’s pause said, “What Severus said to him was quite cruel.”

“I know,” Lily admitted, kicking a stone, “And I know I need to stand up to him more, but he really is a nice person once you get to know him.”

“I’m sure he is,” The Doctor said.

After realizing he wasn’t going to say anything more, Lily hurred out, “No, really. He is. He’s kind and considerate, he just has a really difficult family life, you know?”

The Doctor hummed. “I think…I think he’s an impressionable boy who’s surrounded by people who aren’t looking out for what’s best for him.” He took a breath, “And I I think he’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

Lily smiled, and they walked together in pleasant silence up towards the Gryffindor Tower.

Perhaps it was that conversation that prompted the Doctor to, once again, find himself waiting in the common room with James, Peter, and Sirius for Remus to return from detention. James and Peter were engaged in a very serious-looking game of moving chess, whilst Sirius was listening to one of his records through a new set of headphones. From the chair the Doctor was pretending to read on, he observed the three of them. Maybe it was naïve or overly-hopeful, but a part of him believed that he could be the influence to them that Lily was to Severus.

“That was quick,” Sirius said as Remus finally made his way into the common room.

“Only had to do one in the end,” Remus explained, “Slughorn let me off, too busy trying to sort out the itching powder thing, so I just did McGonagall’s.”

Sirius grinned broadly, leaning back on the couch with his arms folded under his head. “That prank is just the gift that keeps on giving.”

“Severus was allergic to it,” The Doctor said seriously, “It could have caused anaphylaxis.”

“He was fine,” James said, “Besides, where’d you hear that from anyway?”

“Probably that ginger girl,” Remus said, “She’s the one that told me he’s been in the hospital wing all day.”

Sirius laughed even louder.

“Which ginger girl?” James looked up suddenly.

“Check MATE!” Peter cried.

“You know,” Remus said, “The annoying one. Evans.”

“I don’t think she’s annoying.”

“Okay,” Remus shrugged.

“Let’s not talk about girls,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “This might be the most important day of our lives! This is the day we become legends; the day our friendship was forged in the fire of itching powder!”

“They don’t know it was us, do they?” Peter asked nervously as he tidied away his chess set.

Remus shook his head. “I overheard Slughorn and McGonagall talking – they reckon it was a Slytherin girl. Or a gang of marauders.”

“Marauders!” Sirius sat up suddenly, “That’s it! Raise your glasses, boys!”

“We don’t have glasses,” James replied, sounding amused.

“Well, just pretend.” Sirius shook his head.

The Doctor, who’d just fished five rocks glasses out from his pocket, silently lowered them back into his coat.

Sirius raised his invisible glass with dramatic flourish, “From this day forward, we are the Marauders!”

James was grinning from ear to ear, Peter glancing at him for direction, not quite understanding what was going on. Even the Doctor couldn’t suppress an amused smile. Remus burst out laughing.

“What sort of a poncy gang name is that?”

It was a Monday night when Remus disappeared from the dormitory again. It was odd only for the reason that he’d not been going on his walks so often the past weeks. When he finally showed up to Transfiguration the next morning, James, Sirius, and Peter spent half the lesson trying to get his attention to ask where he’d been.

Yet the only person he seemed to acknowledge was the Doctor, who had shot him a concerned look.

Remus bit his lip and gave him a nod as if to say, I’m okay.

The Doctor hesitated a moment, but nodded in acceptance and moved his gaze back to the matchstick he was meant to be turning into a needle.

The Doctor, admittedly, was usually a bit heavy-handed in his attempts for answers. But, despite what one might believe, he did have some restraint when it was necessary. And Remus needed that – he needed a more gentle, open offer. So he turned away.

“So?” Sirius blurted out, the moment the five of them stepped into the hall. “Where were you?”

“Nowhere.” Remus replied, walking a bit faster.

“Oh, go on,” James pleaded, coming up on his right, “Tell us! Was it the same place you went last month?”

“Maybe.”

“Were you in detention again?” Asked Peter, struggling to keep up.

“Nope.”

“Then where –”

“Watch it, half-blood!”

Remus had been so busy evading questions that he hadn’t looked where he was going and ran smack into Severus Snape, who was coming around the corner.

“Watch yourself, Snivellus.”

Severus scowled and pushed Remus back a few steps, Mulciber appearing at his left shoulder, looming menacingly over the smaller boys.

“Oi!” The Doctor shoved himself between the two boys. “Leave it alone, Severus. We can both just walk away from this.”

But Severus didn’t seem all that interested in stepping away. “I know it was you that broke into our dorms the other night,” He hissed. “All of you.”

The Doctor hesitated just long enough for James to jump in.

“Yeah? Prove it.”

Severus’s lip curled. “I can’t, yet. But I will. I’ll get you back too, I promise.”

“Right!” The Doctor said, and suddenly he was back in his element, “you’re right terrifying, you truly are – and we are trembling in our school sanctioned footwear, I promise you. But we’ve actually got to get Charms class, if you don’t mind –”

“Was it your idea then, Smith?” Severus demanded, “Or maybe it was yours, Black? Or Potter’s? Had to be one of you three. Pettigrew doesn’t have the guts, and dear Lupin here clearly hasn’t got the brains –”

“Oh, you’re clever, you really are,” The Doctor said, before Remus could jump at him again, “Or have you perhaps considered that maybe, just maybe , everything’s not all about you, Severus, eh?”

Severus clenched his fists, hand drifting towards his wand, but before anything could escalate further, a sharp voice rang out over the corridor.

“Move along now, gentlemen.” Professor Flitwick had stepped out of his classroom to see what the holdup was. “Severus, you’re clogging up the halls, and you four are supposed to be in my class. Come along.”

The Doctor placed a gentle hand on Remus’s shoulder as he gently tried to guide him away, but Remus brushed him off and shoved his way into the classroom.

And whilst he tried to play it off, the interaction clearly seemed to be weighing on the boy. In Charms he kept sending his cushions shooting across the room, as the rest of the class tried to guide them carefully through the hoops Professor Flitwick had hung from the ceiling. And even in the common room, the Doctor had observed him that evening trying a quick ‘Lumos’ spell and nearly burning his retinas out. 

But he pushed off all the Doctor’s concerns, so the Time Lord watched in silence.

The Doctor had been spending so much time focusing on Remus, he nearly missed the way he was being watched. Nearly. It started with his dorm-mates. Sirius, specifically, was the most nosy. He was constantly telling the other boys other people’s business – ‘So and so’s father was turned down for a promotion at the ministry years ago, and that’s why they have that chip on their shoulder,’ ‘Miranda Thrup’s great aunt was once under investigation for the illegal use of a love potion, and now no one ever drinks tea at the Thrup’s house,’ ‘Professor Slughorn knows more about the dark arts than he lets on, and the Slug Club is notorious for turning out dark wizards with influence.’

He was observant. And that was something the Doctor had to be wary of. And whilst the Doctor was quite fortunate that Sirius seemed much more focused on Remus, he still would often catch the small inquiries.

“So where did you say you’re from again?” He had asked one day.

“Gallifrey,” The Doctor had responded absent-mindedly as he scribbled down the remainder of his Transfiguration essay.

“Gallifrey?” James had asked, “I've never heard of there before. Is it in Ireland?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re Irish?” Peter had squeaked.

“Not particularly.”

But the boys mostly left him alone to his privacy. There was, however, a much more serious concern that he was unable to avoid: Professor McGonagall.

See, most professors didn’t pay him much mind, writing him off as having an ‘overactive imagination’ or ‘intentionally misbehaving,’ or, in Professor Slughorn’s opinion, being ‘an eccentric young lad.’ But that could not be said for Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall was an upsettingly observant woman. The Doctor quickly learned that he had to be careful of what he said around her, as her eyes would linger just a touch too long on him. She would watch his performance in class just a bit too closely. She would analyze his homework just a little too seriously.

“Your essay was fascinating, Mr. Smith,” She’d said to him one afternoon after holding him back at the end of class, “But I must inquire about your theories on the, ‘transdimensional transference of mass via electromagnetic radiation.’”

The Doctor had frowned, “It’s a relatively simple process if you have the right tools –” He had glanced up to the Professor’s raised eyebrow before he’d quickly realized and adjusted his speech, “Which I don’t. It’s just something I…read once? In a book?”

“There’s no need to hide your intelligence, John,” Professor McGonagall had said, “But I’d prefer if you stuck to our dimension of energy transfer.”

The Doctor had chosen to bite back the lecture his mind had conjured about how the transference of energy through other dimensions actually really did affect the energy in their current one, and had quickly taken his leave. But he could feel the eyes of his Professor bearing into the back of his head as he went. He had to be more careful. More human.

Going undercover was harder than he’d expected. 

Once he’d set his goal to act more human, the Doctor had quickly realized that this meant he would need to spend more time with his human roommates.

“So, normal children things,” The Doctor had said to Sirius as they walked to their first flying lesson, “You seem something of an expert on that.”

“Yeah,” Sirius laughed, “Don’t call them ‘normal children things,’ first off.”

“Noted,” The Doctor nodded, “And you said pranks are normal, eh? But the teachers didn’t seem to think so.”

“Oh yeah, loads of kids pull pranks. We just do them bigger and better.” James, who must have been eavesdropping, assured him.

“Right…”

“You’ve just gotta loosen up, mate.” Sirius said as they reached the field.

Right. Loosen up. Relax. He could do that, right?

Totally.

It had rained the night before and the ground was soft and muddy as the students arrived on the field. Most students had changed out of their usual lace up shoes and into thick boots and scarlet flying kits before setting out onto the pitch. First year students weren’t allowed to bring their own brooms, but James would tell anyone who listened that he had a top of the line model at home.

Madam Hooch, the flying coach, had quickly ushered the students to their broomsticks, ordering them to hold their arms over their brooms and summon them into their hands. Fortunately, with the majority of the class having just mastered levitation with Professor Flitwick, this went by quickly and easily. What didn’t go over so smoothly, however, was the actual flying itself. Well, for some that is.

James was clearly the breakaway star, flitting around the quidditch pitch with practiced ease, throwing loops and feints as if he’d been born on a broom.

Sirius was excellent as well, racing to catch up with James, playing along as they twirled in the sky.

Peter was…competent. While he tried to keep up with his friends, he mostly lagged behind and ended up straying closer towards the other students who were watching the two Gryffindors with awe. But even these students seemed to have grown up playing on broomsticks.

It was Remus who found himself struggling, as twenty minutes in, the boy had learned that he was deathly afraid of heights. The Doctor was perched on his broom above, trying to coax him a little higher.

“How come you’re so steady on your broom?” Remus scowled, “I thought you said you’d never flown either.”

“Yes, well, I haven’t. But I did win silver in Belvolian hover-skiing back in the 80s.”

Remus had only rolled his eyes, seemingly unamused by the Doctor’s antics that day, and it didn’t take long for him to touch back down and remain firmly on the ground.

The Doctor chose to play around a bit on his own broom, figuring out the basic controls, but he eventually touched-down with the rest of the students for break.

“Right, mount your brooms please, ladies and gentlemen,” Madam Hooch bellowed a while later. “Nice strong wind today, so I want you all to take good care. Potter, no showing off!”

The Doctor clambered back on his broom, Remus reluctantly following-suit.

“I’d like five clean laps around the pitch, then a good landing back here from each of you. Mind the puddle and remember to lean into the wind where possible. Use it to your advantage. Five points to whoever’s back first.” And with barely any warning, the silver haired witch blew her whistle hard.

The Doctor had no intention of winning the challenge, leaving that for Sirius or James to do. Instead, he rose gently with Remus, he could see Lily close behind, as she was the only other Muggle-born student in the class. However, she streaked ahead with ease, leaving the two Gryffindor boys lagging behind.

“Smith!” Madam Hooch shouted, “Eyes on your own broom, I know you can fly better than that!”

Reluctantly, the Doctor detached himself from Remus’s side and flew ahead.

“Faster than that, Smith!”

It wasn’t long before the Doctor was lapping him, slowing down slightly to try for some encouraging words, though Remus didn’t seem all that receptive.

As the Doctor completed his fifth lap, his eyes immediately searched for Remus. Yet when he found him, the boy was no longer alone.

Sirius had attached himself to the boy’s side and the two of them were bickering. That was, until Remus grabbed the tail of Sirius’s broom and gave it a hard yank.

Laughing, Sirius righted himself, then flew back to Remus’s side and gave him a hard shove back.

Remus shook, but held on tight. His descent looked significantly more smooth than it had before. He leaned back, twisting quickly to push Sirius again.

“Out of my way!” He yelled, accelerating towards the ground, “You can be the last down for once!”

“Oh no you don’t!” Sirius now grabbed Remus’s broom tail, laughing, tugging him backwards.

This appeared to be a touch too far, as they were both quite close to the ground now. The two wrestling boys tumbled towards earth, brooms flying out from beneath them, the both of them crash landing into a massive muddy puddle, skidding and rolling forwards, their robes soaked in mud.

“Black! Lupin!” Madam Hooch marched over to where the two boys were sprawled.

The other Gryiffidnors gathered around, giggling and pointing. Sirius leapt to his feet with all the grace his nobility blessed him with, and pulled Remus up by the hand. They both looked up at the coach, blinking water droplets from their eyes.

“What did I say about minding the puddle?” Madam Hooch raised an amused eyebrow. They were fortunate, as she was one of the professors who usually could see the fun in things. “A point each from Gryffindor. You’d better go and wash off in the showers. Off you go.”

The two of them waddled towards the quidditch changing rooms together.

As the rest of the students were ushered back into the air, the Doctor couldn’t help but mull over what had happened. He’d spent all morning trying to help Remus, yet Sirius managed it over the course of two minutes with a bit of childish tomfoolery. Despite hundreds of years of experience, he felt like he knew less about humans than ever.

As he watched Lily and James race for speed, he couldn’t help but wonder if he needed to step back from Remus. Apart from the Master, he’d never really had many friends at the academy. Perhaps he was coming on a bit strong. He needed to pull-back and reassess. And from the looks of it, Sirius would be the best one to talk to about that.

“Have you considered going by your real name?” Sirius suggested as they lounged in the common room.

The Doctor frowned, “What do you mean?”

“You know, John Smith.”

“Oh, that name. I mean, I could, I suppose. But what fun is that? Boring name – well, by design – my own fault in the long-run. I should start picking more interesting names to go by. Like Bojangles McDuff or Bruce Wayne or” – He made a variety of clicking noises with his mouth that Sirius likely couldn’t replicate if he tried.

Sirius snorted, “As much fun as it would be to call you Bojangles McDuff, I thought I was trying to help you be normal.”

“Yeah, normal, not boring.”

Sirius snorted out a laugh and was quiet for a bit.

“How’s Remus holding up?” the Doctor finally asked.

Sirius frowned, “What do you mean?”

“You two, you’re close, right?”

“Yeah?”

“I think he’s…struggling. And I’m not entirely sure I’m the best equipped to help him.”

“So you think I…?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor nodded, “I think out of everyone you’re…” He searched for the word a moment, before starting over, “I think that despite the socioeconomic separation, you’re the one who he’ll feel like will most understand him.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re strangely insightful sometimes?”

The Doctor grinned, “One might say I have an old soul.”

Sirius looked at him oddly for a moment, as if aware he was out of the loop on something.

“I have spoken to him, actually. And he told me.”

“Did he?”

Sirius nodded. “I promised I wouldn’t tell, but we’ll figure it out.”

“I know you will,” the Doctor said sincerely, “you’ve got a kind heart, Sirius.”

He smiled and sat a little further back on the soft red chair. “Why do you even want to be normal, anyway?”

The Doctor quirked his head slightly in questioning, and Sirius continued, “You’re weird, sure, but that’s not a bad thing. We’re all weird, you just need to relax.”

“I appreciate that, Sirius.”

“I get the feeling that you’re a lot older than us sometimes. Your parents didn’t lie about your age, did they?”

Oh, he was clever. Had the Doctor been an ordinary eleven year old boy, he might not have thought anything of a question like this. But he wasn’t an ordinary eleven year old boy – in fact, all three parts of that phrase were incorrect – so he could tell when someone was prying for information.

So the Doctor decided to go with the least believable, and often most fun, answer: the truth.

“I’m nine hundred and six, thanks for asking.”

Sirius looked mildly amused. “Oh, I’m sure you are.”

“You might’ve gotten along brilliantly with my granddaughter.”

“Oh, I bet I would.”

It was only a few nights later that Sirius and Remus were joining the Doctor, James, and Peter in the Great Hall for dinner. James had dragged the Doctor and Peter to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice.

“How was practice?” Sirius asked as he and Remus sat down, his voice sounding slightly strained.

“Cracking,” James replied cheerfully, seemingly not noticing, “How come you didn’t come?”

“Homework,” Sirius replied lamely.

The Doctor glanced over at Sirius, who sent back a reassuring smile, glancing over to Remus. The Doctor smiled back – so long as it was helping Remus, a strained voice seemed a small price.

As they finished their dinner, James regaled them with a blow by blow account of the quidditch practice, listing each and every player on the team, their strengths and faults, their techniques and what he would do to improve them. Peter interjected occasionally with his own opinions, however they rarely, if ever, differed from James’.

Whilst the Doctor had definitely pitched in on his thoughts during the match, oftentimes picking up little things that James would miss, James had done most of the heavy-lifting for himself. It was clear that he didn’t just know the game well, he studied it. He lived and breathed it.

When pudding came, it was millionaire shortbread, which both Sirius and James turned their nose at. Remus and Peter, however, didn’t hesitate to eat theirs, Peter grabbing James and Sirius’s as well, leaving the Doctor to offer Remus the other half of his.

“I’ve got some sweets,” Peter offered once he’d cleared his plate. He dug through his robe pockets and withdrew a bulging brown bag, “Mum sent them, help yourself.”

“Cheers, Pete!” James grinned and they all dug in, making their way through fizzing whizbees, chocolate frogs, and flavour changing gobstoppers.

“What homework were you doing?” James asked, scratching his chin distractedly, “I thought we’d finished everything for this week.”

“Yeah, um, I was behind on history. Had to go back and check something.” Sirius was scratching too, near his collar bone.

The Doctor frowned as he felt an itch forming in his leftmost elbow.

It was then that the blood drained from Remus’s face and he stood up so quickly he nearly fell over backwards, panic written all across his face.

As the Doctor looked back at James, Sirius, and Peter, dark curls of hair had sprouted from their faces, their hands and arms – every bit of exposed skin.

Glancing back over at Remus, it looked like he was experiencing the same thing, starting from his hand and moving up his arms.

“Oh, bloody hell,” James said as he looked down at himself, then the other boys, “What’s going on?”

“Peter,” Sirius growled, his face now almost entirely covered in hair, “Are you sure your mum sent those sweets?”

Peter, who hadn’t had any sweets yet, stared at them both and turned red, spluttering, “Well,  mean…I thought they were from her…they arrived this morning…”

“Pete!” James roared. People were looking at them now, turning and nudging each other. Soon, the entire dining hall was whispering and pointing at the three incredibly hairy boys from the Gryffindor table.

Plenty of people were giggling too, but of course, no one was laughing louder than Severus Snape, over at the Slytherin benches.

“Come on,” The Doctor said, guiding Remus and Peter out of their seats, “Let’s go to the hospital wing. They’ll sort it out there.”

When they arrived at the hospital wing, the Doctor made quick work of informing Madam Pomfrey of what had happened, supplying samples from Peter’s candy bag. He was only just then, beginning to exhibit a reaction to it, himself, though it was lesser. The hair mostly lingered around his left arm and slightly onto his chest. If the boys noticed his delayed and lesser reaction, they didn’t mention.

“Told you they’d strike back,” Sirius muttered, eyes on Remus, who was covering his face with his hands as if in shame. It appeared he did not find it nearly as funny as James and Sirius had.

“Don’t worry boys,” James said, his grin mostly obscured by hair, “we’ve got plenty of time to plot our revenge.”

The Doctor drew in a breath and nodded. It was just banter, right?

Chapter Text

Fortunately for everyone, Madam Pomfrey was able to undo the hex with a few flicks of her wand. Still, she lectured them all on the misuse of dangerous magic.

“As if we all wanted to look like bigfoot!” James complained as they left the hospital wing, skin still tingling from the hair growth.

“It had to be Severus. He coated the sweets in one of his potions, I know it.” Sirius seethed.

“Yeah, we all know it, mate.” James replied. “Don’t worry, we’ll get him back.”

“I’m so sorry!” Peter wailed for about the hundredth time. “I really thought they were from my mum!”

“It’s fine, Peter,” James patted his shoulder, “Just wish you’d given them to us first thing on Monday – then we could have at least bunked off Transfiguration.”

“I demand retribution!” Sirius shouted, raising his wand dramatically.

“And you shall have it!” James replied, pushing his glasses back on his nose, “patience is a virtue, Black. Vengeance like this takes time. Don’t suppose you’ve got any other brilliant ideas, Remus?”

“Sorry,” Remus shook his head.

“What about you, Doc? Anything?”

The Doctor hesitated. Did he have ideas? Sure. But one that felt proportionate in response? At the moment, he was at a loss.

“I’ll help you, James,” Peter piped up as the Doctor shook his head in the negative. “I’ll do anything, I won’t be scared this time, I’ll –”

They were just turning the corner which led to Gryffindor tower when someone behind them called out, “Sirius.”

All five Gryffindors turned. Sirius made a small shocked noise. It was Bellatrix Black.

“Whaddyou want?” Sirius asked, looking down and scuffing his shoes on the flagstone floor uncharacteristically. The Doctor found himself stepping forward so that he was standing shoulder-to-shoulder on Sirius’s left. On his right side, it seemed that James had the same idea.

“Come here and address me properly,” the seventeen year old witch snapped in response.

Sirius didn’t move. Bellatrix withdrew her wand. The Doctor instinctively stepped in front of Sirius. “Have we got a problem?”

Bellatrix looked almost amused. A magical force summoned him forward by the collar of his shirt into her outstretched hand, where she grabbed the shirt collar and, likely with some magical assistance, lifted him into the air. The Time Lord cursed his new tiny form, as there was little he could do to prevent it.

“Come here, Sirius,” she threatened, her wand jammed into the Doctor’s temple, “or the next hex I throw won’t be as childish as a little hair growth charm,”

“You know, you shouldn’t threaten people, it’s quite rude.” The Doctor suggested helpfully, “so maybe whatever it is, I can help you with –”

“Sirius.” She snapped.

Sirius walked forward, shaking his head at James who tried to follow, and nodding at the Doctor in reassurance. His cousin put the Doctor back down on the floor and turned, escorting Sirius to the end of the hall where they spoke in quiet whispers.

“Are you all right?” Remus asked.

“Hmm?” The Doctor rubbed his bruised neck, “yeah, I’m fine. But if Bellatrix is willing to do that to me in public, it makes me wonder what’s going on in private with the rest of the family.”

No one decided to speak on what the implications for Sirius might be.

Finally, after a few long minutes in which Sirius barely looked up from the ground, Bellatrix patted him on the head, then turned on her heel and left. The four of them exhaled, relieved, as Sirius walked back to them shakily.

In silence, they all entered the portrait hole and sat down at their usual sofa.

“Alright, Sirius?” James asked first.

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking paler than usual. “She um…she wanted to invite me for tea. On my birthday. I think my mother must have made her, probably held a family convenience. Try to bring me back into the fold.”

“Because you’re in a different house,” the Doctor reasoned.

“And the company I’m keeping,” he smirked at them all.

“So when’s your birthday?” James asked.

“Two weeks. The third. I have to go to this tea, though. Bella’s not joking about knowing some really vile curses.”

“I don’t doubt it,” the Doctor said seriously, “but we’ll do something after, yeah? It’s not every day someone turns twelve – well, it is, just not for you.”

Peter, James, and Remus all nodded enthusiastically.

However, when the third of November came and Sirius turned twelve, Remus was not there to celebrate. Nor was he the day after.

The celebration itself was good fun. James spoke to Madam Hooch and arranged a lunch time flying session for the four of them – Madam Hooch was quite irritated with the Doctor when she found out how much he’d really been holding back at his flying lessons.

After dinner, before Sirius had to go and change for tea with his cousins, James, Peter, and the Doctor led the Gryffindor table in a round of ‘Happy Birthday’, followed by ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’, though not after shooting down a good few song ideas from the Doctor’s birthday repertoire. They’d sung ‘and so say all of us!’ over and over at increasing decibels so many times that Professor McGonagall had threatened them with detention if they didn’t stop. The Doctor tried to ignore how much Remus would have enjoyed that.

When they did finally get the chance to ask the boy where he’d been, Remus informed them that he’d been suddenly taken ill. Confused as to why he hadn’t told them anything about feeling sick beforehand, James, Peter, and Sirius all went along with it. But the Doctor kept shooting him concerned glances, as he still looked a bit shaky.

As November marched on, the days grew shorter and the castle darker. They spent less of their time outside – despite the Doctor’s best attempts – and more of it huddled by the fire in the common room, playing card games and plotting how to get back at Severus. The first term was drawing to a close, and the professors seemed to be piling on more homework than ever. And whilst an eleven year old’s homework shouldn’t be all that hard, the Doctor often found himself mixing up what was with what would be.

He was quickly reminded why he didn’t like to stay in one place for an extended period of time.

Sirius began taking to reading his homework aloud, claiming that it helped him think. The Doctor agreed and, when Sirius’s voice got tired, the two would often switch off. Whatever struggle Remus had with reading, it seemed not to bother him so much now, so it seemed that this was a good solution for everyone, apart from James, that is, who preferred silence.

Whilst the Doctor’s marks fluctuated depending on the topic, they usually remained in the higher range, mostly because his thought process was often praised more than his actual answers (which were right, but they wouldn't know that for another four hundred years).

James’s marks were steady, but relatively average, if not slightly less so. Not that the boy minded – so long as he was passing, James couldn’t care less about marks.

Peter’s hovered around the same range as James’s, if a little lower – the Doctor suspected Peter had been copying much of James’s homework, so he could see why. Whilst he'd offered to help the boy himself, he wouldn’t let him copy, so it seemed Peter had made his way back to James for help.

Remus’s marks, however, were improving at an astonishing rate. It seemed that reading aloud had been really helping him as, alongside his increased marks, he began raising his hand in lessons.

Sirius’s marks, on the other hand, seemed to be falling. He went from just below the Doctor to average, passable, even falling behind James for the first time.

“But you spend so much time in the library!” The Doctor overheard Remus whispering one day as they received their homework. “I thought you were studying.”

“I am studying,” Sirius replied, cheerily. “Just not this stuff. You know, I still think we should ask the Doctor for help. If anyone’s going to have the academic know-how for a cognitive interpretation spell, it’ll be him.”

“Yeah…” Remus had said, “maybe…”

The conversation quickly moved away.

A cognitive interpretation spell? He was trying to bring together interpretative processing techniques and human visual cognition? It dawned on him that this would be a great resource for someone who struggled with reading comprehension.

Whilst he’d definitely begin his own research, the Doctor decided not to bring this fact up to Remus. He needed to take things slow, and mentioning that he’d been eavesdropping on them – even if he hadn’t really meant to thanks to his superior hearing – wouldn’t exactly help the trust he was trying to build. He would just have to be patient.

And to his credit, the patience did seem to be paying off.

It was a Tuesday evening when the Doctor’s inquiry about his records prompted Sirius to begin showing off his collection, being more than happy to share. Apart from his racing broom at home, it appeared that his albums were his dearest possessions.

It didn’t escape him that Remus was watching enviously from his bed. The Doctor could recall him taking an interest in the records on the first day, but it appeared he had yet to act on it.

Sirius had a nice collection of Beatles albums consisting of Introducing the Beatles, a Hard Day’s Night, and Help!, as well as Abbey Road. He also had Beggars Banquet and Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones, not to mention two Led Zeppelins and a Simon and Garfunkel hidden at the back.

“They were all given to me by my cousin, Andromeda. She was the first real ‘black sheep’ of the family. She left school a few years ago – married a muggle. Mum wasn’t happy. I haven’t seen her since the wedding, but she posts these to me every now and then. Sends them the muggle way so mum doesn’t find out – she doesn’t understand how the post office works.”

It was nice to know there was someone supportive in Sirius’s life.

The Doctor grinned as he’d examined the Help! album. “‘Ticket to Ride’ was always a favorite of mine.”

Sirius’s face lit up, “You like the Beatles? I bet you've got like, muggle insight! How much do you know about them?"

The Doctor hesitated, glancing over to where Remus was sitting, pretending to be very focused on his essay.

“Next to nothing,” the Doctor finally lied, “but I’m pretty sure Remus knows a lot about the Beatles. You should ask him.”

“Oh, wicked!” Sirius said, “Hey, Remus, if you’re not too busy with your essay, do you want to check out my record collection?”

Remus seemed to be in shock for a moment, before quickly uttering his enthusiastic acceptance and sliding off his bed.

The Doctor stepped out of the room, leaving the two boys on their own.

“You’ve actually seen them, though!” Sirius said in awe as he and Remus stepped out into the common room hours later, “you’ve seen them performing.”

“Not in real life, or anything.”

“No, I know, on the telephone,” Sirius nodded sagely.

Remus stifled laughter before correcting, “on the tele vision. It’s more like those moving paintings you lot have. Only black and white. And only the Beatles – the Stones came on once and Matron made us turn it off, because of their hair.”

“Too long,” Remus shrugged, “she said they looked dirty.”

“My hair’s much longer,” Sirius said, frowning.

“Yeah, it is. But muggle boys don’t have long hair, not normally.”

“Don’t tell him that!” Peter teased from one of the couches he and James had been waiting on, “he’ll shave his head.”

As they bantered, Remus glanced over at the Doctor and sent him a grateful smile.

The Doctor winked back.

Things were a lot smoother between the two of them after that.

Holiday break was fast-approaching, so the Doctor got to laying out his options.

In the recent months, he found himself getting a bit restless at Hogwarts – as big as the school was, there were only so many places to wander around. He’d take the TARDIS if he could find a way to sneak off school grounds, but seeing as he didn’t have anyone to sign his permission slip – something only learned was necessary when he accepted James’ offer to spend Christmas with his family in front of Professor McGonagall – it seemed, momentarily, that he was stuck at the school.

He’d considered contacting Jack, but admitting to him that he was currently an eleven year old boy would be much too humiliating, even for his standards. He’d even considered calling up the Brigadier, only to remember that the poor chap was likely busy dealing with his third self at the moment, and calling him up in this form would be confusing to say the least.

So it appeared that he would be stuck at the school for the time being. But fortunately, he wasn’t the only one staying.

Indeed, it wasn’t until he was standing beside the Doctor, waving the other boys off, that Remus appeared to realize the Doctor wasn’t going home for the holidays either.

“You’re not going back home for break?” He asked once the other three Gryffindors were out of sight.

The Doctor shook his head. “Nah.”

“Y’don’t look all that happy about it,” Remus observed.

“I’m not used to staying in one place so long.” He admitted,

“Oh,” Remus said, “your family travels a lot?” He sounded unimpressed, and the Doctor could understand why he’d be so put-off by that. He’d told Remus he hadn’t a penny to his name, but that didn’t necessarily mean his parents didn’t have money. It wasn’t unreasonable for the boy to assume the Doctor had a wealthy family who liked to travel.

Part of him considered lying. Telling Remus that yes, his family did like to travel a lot and that was why he’d likely never meet them. He could tell stories about them – his family. His friends. Pretend they were still there alive. That he wasn't alone…

“I’m more of a solo traveler,” he finally landed on.

“You travel by yourself?”

“Well, most of the time. Not to say I don’t take on…traveling companions.”

Confusion crossed Remus’s face, “And you’re allowed to do that – travel alone?"

“Not like anyone’s stopping me.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t any money. How do you travel without money?”

“Don’t need it,” the Doctor shrugged, “just sorta wander my way into places.”

“Like…you break in?”

“I’m not breaking in,” The Doctor grinned as he flipped open the psychic paper, “I’m Health and Safety.”

Remus stared at the paper. “You forge documents and break into places? That’s wicked!”

With just Remus and the Doctor, the common room was oddly quiet. The Doctor devoted most of his time to reading in an attempt to brush up on his knowledge of the magical world. Admittedly, it had been a while since the Doctor’d paid much attention – there wasn’t much to pay attention to. They were elitist and prejudiced – so determined to keep themselves separate from muggles that they rejected progress. New inventions would go ignored for decades before they would finally come around to it – and by then, it would often be entirely irrelevant in the non-magical world. Despite their enhanced psychic sensitivity that allowed them to use magic, they were hundreds of years behind on technology.

But seeing as he was here now, doing some research certainly couldn’t hurt.

“Smith! Lupin!” Frank Longbottom called, poking his head around the door, “You’ll miss breakfast at this rate!”

Indeed, it did appear to be close to ten o’clock.

The Doctor quite liked Frank. He had a broad, friendly face and an easy-going manner. He was solid. Dependable. Kind, patient, and gentle. He kept an eye on everyone in his House. Yes, that was his job as a prefect, but even so. It appeared that even Remus couldn’t resist his friendly, yet relaxed demeanor, always encouraging the boy to join without pushing too hard.

Not that the Doctor could quite avoid it either. There was something he had been quickly forced to realize in attending school as a child: people ignored concerning things in adults far more than they did in children. The things he could easily talk his way out of addressing as an adult, suddenly were a much bigger deal now that he was a kid.

And seeing how this was his first experience in school as a child since his Academy days, it would be simply foolish to believe there wouldn’t be signs.

But many had called the Doctor a fool before.

So when Frank would sit down next to him in the library and try to chat about how his classes were going, the Doctor, whilst appreciative of his kindness, was beginning to get irritated with his patience and skillful prodding.

Part of him wanted to snap and insist to the prefect that nothing was wrong at home, but the Doctor was well-aware that would only make the boy more inclined to think so.

So he did his best to play along, joining Remus and Frank down to breakfast. 

After they’d finished and Frank had left for the owlery, Remus returned to the common room and the Doctor made his way back to the library.

There weren’t many students who’d stayed back over the holidays. A handful of first through fifth years, and a good variety of sixth and seventh years who often crowded up the library revising for exams. And whilst most of them paid no mind to the first year boy, there were a good few students who caught onto the Doctor’s intelligence after offering their own assistance to him. He may not be particularly experienced with spells and magic itself, but as far as the theoretical knowledge and the scientific end of things – well, there was no one better.

And helping these older students was a good way to get some insight on the culture of the magical world. As much as he appreciated the other boys’ insights, they were still the insights of eleven and twelve year old boys.

Professor Slughorn had invited him to the special extra Potions classes in the dungeons, which proved fascinating. At first, the professor had been concerned, as the Doctor was the only first year student attending, offering to give him modified or easier potions to make. However, ever the chemist, the Doctor had quickly proven to him that such things were not necessary. He did wish Professor Slughorn would stop gushing over him.

“You would be an excellent addition to the Slug Club, dear boy!” He insisted, “Such promise! I’d love for you to attend a meeting.”

But the Doctor had not forgotten Sirius’s off-handed comment about the club being notorious for turning out dark wizards with influence. And watching the dynamic Professor Slughorn had with his students, it wasn’t all that much of a surprise.

Professor Slughorn was an opportunist, plain and simple. He handpicked a handful of students with connections and influence, or who showed notable promise. He’d use these connections he made to get students to want to join and to enjoy the benefits of such connections himself. The Doctor had seen this hundreds of times before – and Professor Slughorn was far from the first to invite the Doctor into one.

“You’d have a first rate career ahead of you with connections like these,” Professor Slughorn insisted further as the Doctor would decline each and every time.

“Perhaps another time, Professor,” The Doctor kept saying, though it appeared to do little to keep the professor from asking again.

It was Christmas Eve and heavy rain was pelting the thick glass window panes, the sound loud enough to echo through the empty dorm room.

“Wow, Doc, do you ever sleep?”

The Doctor nearly fell off the bed, “Sirius?”

Indeed, Sirius Black was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, disheveled and positively soaked.

At the sound of the commotion, Remus groaned and sat up. “Doctor, what – Sirius?”

Remus was out of bed in an instant, overjoyed to see his friend.

Sirius pushed his wet hair out of his eyes – he’d clearly been out in the rain. He pulled off his heavy travelling cloak, dropping it in a pile on the floor.

The Doctor started a fire as Sirius shed his damper layers. “Alright, Lupin? Freezing, isn’t it?”

“What are you doing here?” Remus asked.

“Had enough,” he said simply, pulling off his boots, which were caked in mud. “Got into an argument with Dad, then the whole family got in on it. All the usual stuff. Called me a blood traitor, the shame of the family, et cetera, et cetera…” He flopped down on his bed. “So I left.”

The Doctor frowned, “Sirius –”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Sirius said.

“How did you even get here?” Remus asked.

“Floo powder,” the boy shrugged, “To the pub in the village. Then just walked up.”

“Wow,” Remus repeated.

“Anyway, I’m starving, they sent me to bed last night without dinner. Come on, get dressed! Breakfast!”

Well, that was certainly…concerning.

But there wasn’t much time to dwell on it, for as the boys attempted to take their seats at the table as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Professor McGonagall appeared at their side almost immediately.

“Mr. Black.” She said with a note of warning in her voice. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I missed you too, Professor.” He grinned up at her.

The corner of the witch’s mouth twitched, but she maintained her composure.

“You were seen walking onto the grounds from Hogsmead at six o’clock this morning. Do you care to explain yourself further?”

Sirius shook his head, “Not really, Professor. That’s pretty much all there is to it.”

Professor McGonagall sighed, shaking her head lightly. There was a look of pity in her eyes. “Very well, Mr. Black. I shall have to contact your parents, of course, so that they know where you are.”

“No need,” Sirius replied, nodding at the flock of owls which had just swooped into the room. The largest of these birds, a huge, stately eagle owl, dropped a thick red envelope on Sirius’s plate. He looked down at it, then up at the professor with a wry smile. “I think they know exactly where I am.”

He picked up the ominous envelope and, without breaking eye contact with Professor McGonagall, ripped it open. Almost immediately, the letter began to shriek. The voice was so loud that it filled the entire hall, causing heads to turn. Even Professor McGonagall winced at the ear-splitting pitch of it all. It was the voice of Sirius’s mother.

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK,” it shrieked, “HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR FATHER IN THIS MANNER!” Remus had his ears covered, but Sirius remained perfectly still, looking up at his Head of House. “CONSORTING WITH HALF BREEDS AND BLOOD TRAITORS! TURNING YOUR BACK ON YOUR FAMILY! IF YOUR GRANDFATHER WAS ALIVE HE’D HAVE DISOWNED YOU THE MOMENT YOU WERE SORTED! YOU WILL REMAIN AT SCHOOL UNTIL THE END OF THE YEAR AND THINK ABOUT THE SHAME AND DISHONOUR YOU HAVE BROUGHT TO YOUR NOBLE TITLE! DON’T THINK WE WON’T DISINHERIT YOU! YOU ARE NOT OUR ONLY SON!”

With that, the letter burst into flames, curling and shriveling into a pile of chalk white ash. The silence that followed was deafening.

Sirius reached for some toast, put it on his plate, then began ladling scrambled egg onto it, nonchalantly.

He glanced up at the professor again, “You can send mother an owl if you like, Professor, but I doubt she’ll read it.”

“Very well, Sirius,” Professor McGonagall nodded, “Just…try to keep out of trouble, will you?”

With that, she walked stiffly back to the teachers table at the far end of the hall.

The Gryffindors ate their breakfast in silence.

The Doctor tried to find time to get Sirius alone, but Sirius seemed to have caught onto this and was attached to Remus at the hip for the rest of the day.

When Christmas Day arrived, the Doctor was more than surprised to find a small collection of gifts at the foot of his bed. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t the only one.

“Merry Christmas,” Sirius  yawned as he awoke and immediately began opening his own gifts. He didn’t appear to have received anything from his parents, despite them knowing his location, but the Doctor decided not to mention it.

There was a sadness behind those excited Christmas eyes…a sadness that reminded the Doctor of a small, lonely boy on Gallifrey.

But even if Sirius hadn’t received a gift from his parents, he still had two others: an annual of his favorite quidditch team, the South End Scorchers – courtesy of James, and a box of chocolate frogs from Peter.

“Merry Christmas,” Remus had returned, looking through his own presents. He had a package that looked like it might be from his boys’ home, containing a bag of nuts, an orange, and a tin of biscuits. He also got a set of gob stones from James – a game James had been trying to teach Remus to play for ages – and chocolate frogs from Peter.

It appeared that Peter had sent all the boys chocolate frogs, as the Doctor had gotten some, too. He also got a set of Wizard Chess from James –  nothing had humoured the boy more than to watch the Doctor decimate seventh years at chess. His third gift, however, to his surprise, was from Professor McGonagall. It was a rather nice-looking textbook on theoretical transfiguration. It was…touching.

“I didn’t get anyone any presents,” Remus admitted guiltily, “I didn’t know they would…”

“It’s all right, nor did I,” The Doctor said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius agreed, on his way to the bathroom, “No one expected you to.”

Whilst Sirius was in the loo, another owl flew in the window and dropped a large, flat, square package on his bed. When Sirius came out and saw it, his eyes lit up and he ripped it open, eagerly.

“It’s from Andromeda!” He explained, pulling the record out, showing it off to Remus and the Doctor.

It was another muggle album, the cover was black, printed with the silhouetted image of a man standing in front of a huge amplifier, playing a guitar. He had long curly hair, stood with his legs apart in a power stance, outlined in gold. Electric Warrior, the title blared, T-Rex.

An excellent album, if the Doctor remembered correctly. It was the turning point for the band’s sound as they pioneered the glam-rock style. A brilliant choice.

But the Doctor said none of this, instead, he watched as Remus hurried over excitedly.

“Ohh, T-Rex, I think I’ve heard of them!” He said as Sirius flipped it over and read the track listing.

“Stick it on!” Remus further encouraged.

Sirius did, sliding out the slick black disc and setting it onto his turntable. The record began to turn, the room filled with music – a smooth, sliding throb.

The Doctor slipped out of the room, leaving Remus and Sirius to sit and listen, entranced. Frank would call them down soon for breakfast, anyway.

The Doctor made his way towards the Great Hall. It had been decorated garishly by the teachers – glittering ropes of tinsel in red, green, and gold sparkled from every rafter, hanging down like festive vines. Twelve rather large trees twinkled with lights in vibrant colors, the baubles the size of footballs hung from every branch.

He hurried to catch Professor McGonagall as she made her rounds about the Gryffindor table.

“Mr. Smith,” she noted as he approached, “Merry Christmas.”

“Professor, I wanted to thank you –”

Professor McGonagall smiled, “your intelligence is an asset Mr. Smith. Just because the current material isn’t challenging for you, doesn’t mean I don’t fully expect you to challenge yourself. I expect six rolls of parchment on my desk by the end of break.”

The Doctor was grinning, “Yes, Professor.”

There was a twinkle in her eye as she strode off to discipline a few sixth-years who were fooling around.

Remus and Sirius eventually joined the Doctor in the Great Hall, before hurrying back upstairs to listen to the album again.

The Doctor decided to leave the boys be. He wasn’t used to a Christmas without a good, thick layer of chaos. It was…lonely.

He hunkered down and spent the majority of Christmas Day wandering alone in the library.

“Doctor?”

The Time Lord looked up from his book to find Sirius and Remus, looking over at him from the front of the library.

“Is everything all right?” The Doctor was on his feet – Call it Christmas instinct.

But Sirius only looked at him strangely, “No, we’re fine. Wondering where you went off to, actually.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Do you want to join us back in the dormitory? We were going to play with Remus’s new gob stones.”

The Doctor smiled, “Thanks Sirius, but it’s all right. I’ll let you two have fun –”

“We want you to join us.” Remus suddenly said. “It would be fun if you were there too.”

Warmth bloomed through his hearts as the Doctor followed the two boys back to the common room. They ate their way through the chocolate frogs, nuts, and biscuits, played rowdy games of gob stones and exploding snap, and the Christmas feast was spectacular.

By the end of the night, the Doctor found himself laying in bed, feeling rather content. It had been a long time since he’d had such a lovely Christmas. Not since…

He cast that thought from his mind and closed his weary eyes.

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, the Doctor allowed himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

The Doctor didn’t like to sleep.

It was a fact that had persisted since his time on Gallifrey. As a Time Lord, he never needed much – once he reached his first maturation, he barely needed it at all, maybe an hour or two a night, even less so as he aged. But even prior to that, he never liked sleeping.

He often said it’s because it was boring. That it wasted precious time he could do anything else in. And while, yes, both of those things were true, there was another reason.

The Time Lord brain was a delicate thing. It moved faster and more powerfully than any human brain ever could. It could perform frighteningly fast deductions and calculations and memorize every minor detail of an event. So is it really such a surprise that with such an impeccable mind, the Doctor might be more susceptible to bad dreams, especially with all he’s seen?

Is it a surprise that sleep is something he might try to avoid, especially in front of others?

Is it a surprise that this was difficult to do when living in a dormitory with four other students?

The first thing he felt was the heat – so intense that he could feel the heavy pressure in the air. Flames licked his blackened fingertips as the sound of weaponry bombarded him on all sides. He could still taste the ash that coated the inside of his lungs.

He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know where and when he was: the final day of the time war. The last day before Gallifrey was ripped apart. In the city that was supposed to be invincible as it was reduced to rubble.

And the Daleks’ screamed, their war cry crescendoing in his ears, EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!

So many Daleks that they blocked out the dual sunlight with their ships. They broke through the sky trenches and rained fire among the civilians.

And through the fire and ash, through the smoke and gunfire, he could hear them.

The screams.

The children.

His children.

And all he could see was blood. It was on his hands, that thick orange-crimson, and it wouldn’t come off, not ever.

“Doctor!” A familiar voice called through the dense smoke, but he couldn’t quite identify it.

“Susan?” He called back, “Susan is that you? You can’t be here – please, you can't be here –”

“Doctor!”

“You have to run, my dear girl, run!”

“Doctor!” The voice didn’t sound like Susan. It could be anyone – everyone. Every planet he’d let burn, every friend he’d let down, every petal he’d let fall. It was too loud and too much and the smoke was too thick and too hot and he couldn’t breathe and he was so scared.

“Doctor!” Something collided heavily with the side of his face and he was suddenly on his feet in the darkness of the boys’ dormitory, trying to breath but finding his lungs choking on phantom ash so hard he had tears in his eyes.

“Bloody – Doctor are you okay?” Sirius was standing over him.

“Should we get Professor McGonagall?” Remus, who was standing just behind, asked.

The Doctor tried to respond, but couldn’t make anything out through his asphyxiation. Instead, he waved the boys off, but neither of them moved.

Finally, the spasming in his lungs stopped and he was able to half-collapse back onto his bed.

“Remus, Sirius,” he wheezed out, “‘morning.”

“Doctor, what the hell was that?”

“Nothing, it was nothing,” the Doctor insisted fervently as he ran a trembling hand through his hair.

“It didn’ look like nothing,” Remus said.

Sometimes, the Doctor resented the kind-heartedness of these boys.

“Really, I’m fine,” he insisted in a desperate attempt to gather himself, “Anyways, it’s gotta be pushing nine o’clock now. The two of you should head to breakfast, I’ll meet you down in a few.”

The two boys didn’t look comforted by his words at all. They looked at each other and, after a wordless exchange, Remus said, “I’ll save our seats,” and left the Doctor and Sirius alone in the room.

“Go with Remus,” the Doctor told the boy, “I’ll be down in a few.”

“Did…did you have a nightmare?” Sirius’s voice was very quiet.

“Nah, it’s really nothing to worry about – I’m always all right, me. You know there was this Welsh saying that had something to do with this…Or was it Gaelic…Either way, it had something to do with oat milk…”

Sirius, not thrown by the Doctor’s antics, swallowed thickly before saying, “I get nightmares sometimes.”

The Doctor paused. “I’m so sorry, Sirius,” he finally said, “You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

“Neither should you,” Sirius pointed out. “So…if you want to talk about it, you know, I get it.”

“Sirius, does your family hurt you?”

Sirius froze.

“Sirius…?”

“You can’t tell,” Sirius begged, “please, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Sirius, I can’t just let you go home –”

“You don’t understand – my family’s really noble and important. No one will believe me. My mum will –”

“I never said I’d tell, Sirius,” The Doctor promised, “I just said I can’t let you go home.”

Sirius looked at him, “What?”

“I won’t let you go back there, Sirius. No one deserves what you’ve been through, and I know I can’t fix that. But I can stop it from ever happening again.”

Sirius hesitated. A flurry of emotions crossed his face. He closed his eyes for a long moment. When he finally opened them again, he said, “I need to…I need to think about it.”

The Doctor smiled at him gently. “Take all the time you need, Sirius. I promise I am here to help.”

Sirius followed Remus’s tracks down for breakfast, leaving the Doctor on his own to process.

Perhaps naïvely, the Doctor had hoped that Remus and Sirius would forget about his little nightmare.

They did not.

He could feel Sirius’s eyes bearing into him as they got up the next morning – he’d not been foolish enough to sleep since that night.

However, with the Doctor unwilling to talk about it, and with it being the strange nowhere days between Christmas Day and New Year’s, the conversations quickly pivoted to how they were going to get back at Severus.

Indeed, it seemed Sirius was no longer interested in attacking all the Slytherins anymore, wanting to focus his energy on one single foe.

“Isn’t this bullying?” The Doctor asked, “this feels like bullying. Even at the Academy, this would’ve been bullying.”

“The Academy?” Remus perked up.

The Doctor silently cursed himself in Gallifreyan for ever opening his mouth. Although, admittedly, he could see the similarities between his two schoolings. Just as he had his four dorm mates, he’d befriended the Master and the War Chief on his first day too…

He didn’t quite want to think about that.

“I just mean this sounds like a bad idea. Banter is one thing, but if we’re targeting him –”

“He targeted us,” to the Doctor’s surprise, it was Remus who spoke up. There was a fury in his voice. It seemed that Severus’s hex had seriously struck a nerve with him. “We’re only getting him back.”

“No, he was getting us back for the itching powder. If we stop here, it doesn’t have to escalate further.”

Says the one who trapped your teacher in a time-loop for a day, a voice in the back of his head reminded him.

Shut up. He didn’t need these memories bleeding through. Not now.

“It’s just banter –”

“Banter doesn’t hurt people,” The Doctor insisted, swallowing up the memories of Torvic. “It could’ve killed Severus, and it shouldn’t have made Remus this upset. We can’t keep doing this.”

“What if we tone it down a bit?” Sirius suggested calmly, “Keep it to playful jabs?”

The Doctor hesitated, “I suppose…that might be more reasonable…”

“I still think we should get James’ cloak, follow him around ‘til he’s alone, then beat the shit out of him.” Remus snarled.

Severus’s hex must have bothered him a lot more than the Doctor had thought.

Sirius pulled out a large tome and dropped it onto the bed. “I found this book of hexes and jinxes. A lot of them are really complex, though, so I think we should stick to the basics. Simplicity is key.”

The Doctor could agree with that. Simplicity, hopefully, meant something small and ribbing.

“Okay,” Remus replied dully.

“So I thought we could brainstorm all the stuff we can do, and see if that lends itself to any good jinxes,” he continued, undeterred by neither the Doctor, nor Remus’s reluctance. “So I’m good at transfiguration –”

“So is the Doctor,” Remus pointed out, “he’s got best marks in the whole year.”

“Your transfiguration skills are definitely useful,” the Doctor said, “but I’d say you’re more helpful for your connections –”

“I already told you –”

“I know,” the Doctor quickly cut him off, “I don’t mean connections with people you can talk to, I mean that you know the people around Severus. You know how they act and what they’ll notice and take interest in. You know them.”

“What about James?” Remus asked.

Sirius nodded, “Well, he’s a bit better than me at Defense Against the Dark Arts – but so’s the Doctor, and it’s not like we’ve learned any good spells yet, except disarming stuff, so that’s no use.”

Sirius chewed the nib of his quill, “James is good at flying too, obviously, but I dunno how that’s going to be any help. Then there’s Pete…good at sneaking around and grunt work, I suppose…”

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Sure, Peter was never top of the class, but he was generally perfectly competent, usually settling for a satisfactory mark. He lacked the competitive edge James and Sirius had, the desire to prove himself.

“Pete’s good at potions,” Remus pointed out.

“Yeah, but the Doctor’s way better,” Sirius shrugged, “Professor Slughorn’s been tripping over his own shoes trying to get him to join his Slug posse.”

“He’s good at Herbology too,” Remus further insisted.

Huh, good for Remus, trying to stand up for Pete.

“Herbology’s useless,” Sirius shrugged, “You were the one who came up with the rosehip thing. Anyway, then we’ve got the Doctor, who’s good at everything, then you’re probably best at Charms –”

“Not best,” Remus said hurriedly, “I’m good at levitation, I suppose, but that’s it.”

“Oh shut up, this is no time for modesty, Lupin,” Sirius waved an impatient hand, “You pick up spells quicker than anyone – even the Doctor. If we find a sufficient hex in here, then I’m counting on you to figure out how to do it.”

It was true, for as much as his theoretical knowledge was valued in other classes, Charms was one where it didn’t help much at all. And Remus was quick to pick things up.

“He’s right, Remus,” the Doctor insisted, “you are clever.”

Remus fidgeted anxiously, as if trying to put distance between himself and the compliment. He shook his head and pushed the book away, getting up and stretching.

“It has to be something big,” Sirius decided, “something much worse than the hair thing. But not so bad that the Doctor’ll freak out.”

“I dunno why you think I’ll be any help,” Remus sighed, yawning now.

“Muggle insight,” Sirius grinned, “like the itching powder. You can come up with stuff Snape won’t see coming.”

Remus shrugged, “Once we got a bucket of water and propped it over a door – which you have to leave a bit ajar, y’know, then Matron was supposed to walk through and get soaked. Except Matron didn’t walk through, the cook did, and we got served shit food for a month,” he shrugged and stretched his arms out in front of him, “But that's a pretty tame prank, to be honest. Are you hungry? Can we go down for dinner yet?”

Tame. Ribbing, yet reasonable. The Doctor could get behind this.

“Yeah, I s’pose,” Sirius closed the book. “We could get a bucket pretty easily, but it seems like there’s a lot of room for error.”

“We’d just have to enchant it a bit,” the Doctor pointed out, “make sure the bucket doesn’t fall when the water does and hit him.”

Sirius shrugged, “I dunno if it would really strike fear into his heart the way we want it to. We’re marauders, we should be setting certain standards.”

Remus chucked as he, the Doctor, and Sirius climbed through the portrait hole.

“Yeah, told you it was rubbish,” he said. “Shame, ‘cause Snivellus could do with a good wash.”

Sirius laughed back, then froze and gripped Remus and the Doctor’s shoulders in each hand. “Oh, you genius! You bloody genius!”

“What?” The Doctor and Remus asked simultaneously.

“A good wash! That’s what we’ll do! It’s easy, I bet, it’ll be in one of those books…wait here!” He disappeared back through the portrait hole.

Remus looked at the Doctor, as if waiting for him to protest.

The Time Lord shrugged, “I think it’s a brilliant idea. Might help de-escalate, if anything.”

“Why do you care so much?”

The Doctor frowned, “Why do I care that we don’t hurt anyone?”

“Why do you care if we hurt Snape?”

His frown deepened, “Why don’t you?”

“He’s a knob, in’ he?”

“He’s still a person, Remus,” the Doctor reminded him, “He’s a person who probably feels the same way about you – I’m not saying what he’s done and said was right, but I am saying that hurting him is only going to prove to him that it was.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, picking at his fingernails, “Still want to beat the shit outta him, though.”

“You’re allowed to feel that,” the Doctor said, “But you don’t have to act on it.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, “Yeah, I guess.”

“You’re a good kid, Remus,” the Doctor said, “don’t let yourself forget that.”

“You’re a good bloke, too, Doctor.”

The Doctor smiled sourly. He wishes.

“Wait, you want to do what?” Remus whispered again, mopping the remains of the gravy from his plate with roast potatoes, “It sounds complicated.”

“It isn’t,” Sirius shook his head, “I reckon it’s easy. Weather spells are hard on a grand scale, but this only needs to be a cloud the size of this plate,” he tapped the porcelain in front of him.

“Would it be like the ceiling?” Remus asked, jerking his head up at the charmed rafters. It was raining, as it had been all Christmas, but the downpour vanished before it reached them.

“A bit,” Sirius replied, “but smaller. And without whatever charms are stopping us from getting wet.”

“But…couldn’t he just step away from it?”

“Not if we combine it with a binding spell!”

“But…we can’t mix spells yet. Well, I can’t. Can you?” Remus looked up at Sirius, who was nodding vigorously.

“Yeah, I’ve been having a go at it, for your…” He glanced at the Doctor, “…thing. It’s actually not too hard; you just have to concentrate.”

“That’s what they say about my…thing.”

“We’ll practice,” Sirius said firmly, “We’ll practice loads before James and Pete get back. They’ll be dead impressed.”

“I’d be concerned about his exposure to the weather,” the Doctor admitted as boys returned to their dormitory to practice the spell, “If the rain’s too cold, he could get hypothermia, especially with his damp clothes.”

“You worry too much, that won’t happen.” Sirius said.

Remus no longer looked so sure, but he didn’t oppose.

“Besides,” Sirius pointed out, “the professors’ll probably be able to undo it pretty easily.”

That was…true.

So the Doctor ceased arguing for the time being as the other two boys attempted the spell.

It was pushing midnight when Remus finally managed to cast a small, grey cloud, pouring from his wand like smoke, hovering between them for a few moments before bursting like a bubble, leaving only a faint trace of condensation.

Sirius grinned broadly, “This is going to work!”

The Doctor was a bit surprised to see Sirius, a few days later, returning through the portrait hole without Remus. The boy had admitted to feeling sick earlier that day and so Sirius and the Doctor had both been keeping an eye on him since then.

“Said I should stay back and work on the raincloud charm,” Sirius said, “I told him we’d already pretty much got it down by now, but he told me to find something else to do.”

“Oh?” the Doctor looked over at him.

“More than that,” Sirius added, “He said he’d see me tomorrow. Like he already knew they’d keep him overnight.”

The Doctor frowned. “He’s looked a bit shaky all day – I thought maybe a cold…But Madam Pomfrey should be able to fix that in minutes…”

Sirius shrugged, “I suppose we’ll see tomorrow.”

“I suppose we will.”

However, when the next morning came, Remus never returned to the dormitory.

He wasn’t at breakfast either.

“I’m going to check on him,” Sirius decided as he finished his toast.

“Right, let’s go then,” the Doctor said, standing up as well.

Whilst Sirius seemed a little hesitant on the Doctor joining, he didn’t protest as they both made their way to the hospital wing.

Remus, admittedly, didn’t look well. But he didn’t look sick. He looked bruised and hurt.

He was also unconscious. So, after a quick trip to the dormitory, Sirius grabbed a book and the Doctor grabbed his chess set and the two hunkered down in the hospital wing for a while.

The Doctor had just been beating Sirius in their twelfth game of chess, when Remus began to stir.

An uncoordinated hand reached out blindly near a glass of water beside him, so Sirius picked it up and handed it to him.

Remus drank deeply, then set it down. When he finally looked up, he rasped out,

“Sirius! Doctor! What are you doing here?”

“Happy New Year,” Sirius said cheerily. “Thought we’d come looking when you weren’t at breakfast. You all right?”

“Fine,” Remus said, sitting up hurriedly, rubbing his head, “I um…I get migraines sometimes. I’m feeling better.”

This didn’t look like a migraine. He looked sore and achy. But the Doctor decided not to comment on that.

“Glad you’re feeling better, Remus,” he said instead, “listening to the Beatles isn’t the same without your ‘muggle insight.’”

Remus cracked a smile, before noticing the book Sirius’s had, clutched hands. It looked like Remus’s copy of History of Magic.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s, uh,” He glanced at the Doctor, “part of your Christmas present. I have a thing to help with your…thing.”

“Is it like…” Remus glanced at the Doctor, “…a spell, to help with my…thing?”

The Doctor sighed and sat back on his small wooden stool, “Remus, it’s all right, I know you struggle with reading.”

Through their noises of shock, Remus and Sirius both turned to look at each other, as if to see if the other had told.

“I noticed in Potions class,” the Doctor admitted, “I had my theories then, but when Sirius’s reading aloud seemed to help so much, I know – don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he promised, “but I think you might have a type of dyslexia.”

Remus looked up and frowned, “Dyslexia?”

“It’s a learning disorder that makes it difficult to identify speech sounds and how they relate to letters and words – but it doesn’t make you stupid, Remus,” the Doctor insisted, “Leonardo da Vinci and Albert Einstein were both dyslexic, you know, and they were some of the most brilliant men of their time – I think Leonardo had a bit of a thing for me, but that’s beside the point. There should be a reliable remedy by – oh, 2023, I should think? But that’s a bit of a ways away. I’m happy to help find other ways to –”

He glanced at the two boys, “Anyway, what’s the present you got for him, Sirius?”

“You’re seriously trying to move on from that?”

“Your secret first.”

“Hold on, are you a Seer?” Sirius suddenly said.

Remus frowned. “A Seer?”

“Right!” The Doctor said quickly, recognizing the term – now very grateful for the research he’d done, “yes, well-done, you’ve figured it out. I’m actually a Seer.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what a Seer is?” Remus asked.

“A Seer is someone who can see the future really well,” Sirius said, “they’re super rare. I know my mum would pay anything to have one she could go to.”

“Woah, that’s wicked. You just see the future whenever?”

“No, I’m pretty sure there are rules.”

“What, like you can’t make prophecies after midnight?”

“No, like you can’t control what or when you see.”

“Oh,” Remus turned to him, “that sucks, sorry Doctor.”

There was something overly sincere in his eyes as he said it.

“So your gift for Remus?” The Doctor tried again.

“Oh, yeah!” Sirius handed Remus his textbook, “Sorry it’s late, I had to make a few last-minute tweaks. Open it!”

Remus did. The book was still stiff, as if it hadn’t been opened all year. On the very first page, below the title, Sirius had written a small message in his own neat cursive handwriting.

“Sirius,” Remus sighed, squinting at the words, “you know I can’t –”

“Put your hand on it!” Sirius said, eagerly stepping forward, “Palm flat against the page – yeah, like that. Now, give me a moment…”

Sirius withdrew his wand from his pocket and placed the point lightly against Remus’s temple.

“Sirius, what are you doing?” Remus asked, sounding slightly alarmed at the wand pointed at his head.

“Trust me!” Sirius shushed him. A look of concentration came over his face. He took a deep breath and forcefully said, “Lectiuncula Magna!”

Remus tensed up his body as if in preparation for a blow, then he jolted oddly. When nothing else happened, he opened his eyes and looked at Sirius.

“What was that?”

“Look at the book!” Sirius pointed, practically dancing on the spot with excitement, “tell me what it says!”

Remus sighed and looked down at the book in his lap.

“Read it!” Sirius prompted.

“I…” Remus looked down at the first word, then suddenly blinked in shock. He looked back down at it.

‘Happy Christmas,’ it read, ‘Now you can do your own bloody homework. From your fellow marauder and friend, Sirius Black.’

Remus laughed, looked at Sirius, then back down at the page. He split the book open to a middle page, looking at the words printed there as if finally understanding them for the first time.

“Oh my god!” Remus exclaimed as he flipped the page again, “Oh my god!”

“It worked then?” Sirius asked, beaming.

“Sirius! This is…you!…I can’t…How?”

“Oh no,” Sirius chuckled, “Don’t tell me I’ve messed up your brain so much you can’t even form a coherent sentence?”

Fascinating. He must have figured out the cognitive interpretation spell, after all. Probably changing the input from the reading part of his brain to the hearing part, knowing how good Remus was at remembering the things he’d heard. He had to admit, Sirius had done an exemplary job.

“Thank you,” Remus managed, quickly rubbing the tears from his eyes.

“S’ok,” Sirius replied, “Now you can help the Doctor and I research our next big prank.”

“We haven’t even got the first one off the ground yet,” Remus replied, sniffing hard and trying to pull himself together. “You have to show me how you did this…it’s…I mean, it must be really advanced magic.”

“Sort of,” Sirius shrugged, “I got the idea after Mother’s howler, actually. I thought if you can get a letter to scream at someone, then you can get a book to read to someone. Keeping the voice just your head was the hardest part – I couldn’t tell if it was working on me or if I was just reading normally. Works on any book, though. I think. Not sure about other stuff yet, like potion labels or signs, but we can keep working on it.”

That was…impressive. Maybe he shouldn’t be underestimating these children so much, after all. Maybe he didn’t need to hide so much.

With much to think about, the Doctor slipped out of the room, leaving Remus and Sirius to grin and chat and read.

Chapter Text

“Brilliant!” James exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the bathroom counter, “Completely brilliant!”

“You’re so clever!” Peter gushed.

The five of them were crammed into the small shared bathroom. Sirius was standing in the bath, fully dressed, holding an umbrella over his head, while Remus pointed his wand at a grey storm cloud hovering just above that. It was pouring rain. Sirius shuffled up and down the bathtub, but the cloud stayed firmly above his head, following his every move.

James and Peter had arrived back from their Christmas holidays only two hours prior, and as soon as dinner was over, they’d been dragged upstairs for a demonstration.

“Lupin gave me the idea, but I looked up the charms to do it,” Sirius beamed proudly, “he won’t know what’s hit him!”

The Doctor was still not entirely on-board with the idea. But Remus and Sirius had put so much work into it…And Sirius had been right that the professors would likely undo it pretty quickly. And hypothermia was unlikely since he’d convinced them to use warm water…Was it really that terrible of a prank? He and Koshei had done much worse at the academy. Plus, this was normal, right? It was human. 

“When can we do it?” James asked, jumping up and down from the excitement, “First thing tomorrow? Breakfast? Potions?”

“Dinner,” Sirius shook his head, “More of an audience.”

“Yes, dinner,” James nodded wisely, as if the idea had been his own, “Seriously, you three, I’m so bloody proud.”

The Doctor shifted in discomfort as he was given credit for the trick, but voiced nothing.

“Cheers,” Sirius raised an ironic eyebrow, then looked at Remus, “Um…Lupin? You can probably stop now. My feet are getting wet.”

“Oh!” Remus shook off the charm, seeing that he had produced more rain than the plug hole could manage, and Sirius was now in ankle deep lukewarm water, the bottom of his robes soaked. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Sirius laughed, stepping out of the bath and squeezing out his robes, “Just make sure you do the same to Snape.”

“So Lupin’s doing this one?” James asked.

Sirius shrugged, “He’s better at it. I can do it too though, if we get interference.”

The first day of lessons after Christmas was a very strange one. The Doctor turned in his essay to Professor McGonagall that morning – he’d decided to start off easy and choose the subject of the transference of mass via electromagnetic radiation in the hopes that he could ease his way up into transdimensional transference.

But he wasn’t the only one having a good day. James, Sirius, and Peter were all bouncing with nervous energy in anticipation of the practical joke they had planned. Remus, well, he appeared a bit nervous at the whole prospect, however that did not get in the way of the excitement at this being his first day in school that he could read.

Sirius had shown him, as well as the Doctor, how to perform the spell. It was quite tricky, even for the Doctor, so most of the time Remus would just call on Sirius to do it for him – Remus’s magic had been a bit out of whack ever since his stay in the hospital wing.

But it appeared that reading really had helped. Remus was the first one to get his brick to bounce in Charms class as they grappled with softening charms – even before the Doctor.

It wasn’t until Potions that things went a bit awry.

It began with Professor Slughorn returning their essays on the twelve uses of dragon blood. As usual, the Doctor got the highest mark, earning five points for Gryffindor, followed closely by Severus with three points for Slytherin, followed by Lily who had earned one point, beating Sirius by only a few marks.

None of this was at all out of the ordinary, but apparently the tension of anticipation had grown too much for Sirius, who couldn’t resist getting a shot in.

“Wonder if it’s worth cosying up to Snivellus for just one measly house point,” he grumbled, loud enough for Lily and Severus to hear.

Lily spun around, two bright pink patches on her cheeks, “Shut up, Black,” She hissed, “No one likes a sore loser.”

“Hardly losing when your boyfriend lets you copy his work.” Sirius whispered back, venomously.

“Sirius,” the Doctor said warningly, but he was entirely ignored.

“I do not copy him, and Severus is not my boyfriend!” Lily’s face was getting redder.

“You’re blushing, Evans,” Sirius smirked, looking rather pleased with himself, nudging James, “Isn’t that sweet?”

James sniggered, nodding along.

“Sirius, stop it,” The Doctor said.

“Who’s side are you on, Smith?” 

“Just ignore them, Lily,” Severus whispered, “They’re just jealous.”

“Jealous of what, Snivellus?” James jumped in, still trying to keep his voice down, “Jealous of a slimy greasy git like you? Keep dreaming.”

Sirius laughed, pleased to have drawn James in. Peter laughed too, so as not to be left out. Professor Slughorn was still oblivious, now with his back to the class as he scribbled instructions on the blackboard.

Severus turned in his chair, his beady black eyes on Sirius, “I hear you had a very quiet Christmas, Black,” he said, his voice low and full of danger, “Your family couldn’t stand to have you around for more than a few days before packing you off back to school, is that right?” His lips curled, curelly, “All of the pureblood families are talking about it – the Black’s black sheep.”

“Severus, you’re out of line,” the Doctor hissed.

“Yeah, watch it Snape,” James said, “You’d better be careful what you say. Never know what might happen.”

“Is that a threat, Potter?” Severus replied, sounding bored. “Forgive me if I’m not quaking in my boots. Going to set Loony Lupin on me again?”

Remus flinched involuntarily and reflexively picked up his wand.

“Oh my, have you learnt some magic, Lupin? I’m impressed. Mind you, I’ve heard they can train some monkeys to perform basic tricks, so I suppose it’s no real achievement.”

Remus raised his wand, but the Doctor put his hand up to stop it rising, “Remus, we are not doing this.”

Remus clenched his jaw and looked back at the blackboard, seething with anger but not escalating him further.

Severus chuckled and turned away too.

“There’s no need to be so horrid to him!” Lily whispered angrily.

It seemed she was having as little luck reasoning with Severus as the Doctor was with the marauders.

By the time dinner rolled around, the boys were white hot with rage and desire to get retribution. Remus barely ate a thing, glaring at Severus from across the room. This did not go unnoticed, as Severus nudged the boys around him, pointing at the Gryffindors and laughing. He couldn’t make out everything they were saying, but the Doctor definitely could make out the words, ‘Loony Lupin’ come out of his lips.

James and Sirius scowled at them. Lily noticed too.

“You lot just leave Sev alone, okay?” She squeaked, “this stupid fight is going to go on forever if none of you can be mature enough to –”

“Give it a rest, Evans,” James rolled his eyes, “Bad enough you have to be friends with a tosser, now you’re trying to defend him? Where’s your house loyalty, eh?”

“This has nothing to do with houses,” Lily snapped, “It’s a ridiculous spat over nothing.”

“He insulted Remus!”

“You all pick on him all the time!”

“He started it!”

“Oh yeah, so you have to finish it, right, Potter?” She stood up, picking up her bag. “My god, you’re so full of yourselves!” She walked away, her patent shoes clicking angrily on the flagstones.

“She’s right, you know,” the Doctor said, “we’re only making things worse. I’m not saying what Severus is doing is right, but there are better ways to go about this.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, “there’s better ways to go about this.”

Standing up, he turned his wand and pointed it at Severus, “Ligare Pluviam!”

A raincloud shot from Remus’s wand with the speed of a bullet, so no one could even see where it had come from. It rested over Severus’s head, thick, grey, and heavy. There was a low roll of thunder, and the downpour began.

He didn’t know what was happening at first, covering his head with his hands and not looking up. The students sitting on either side of him stood up and backed away, not wanting to get wet. Then, Severus stood up, trying to dodge the cloud, but it followed him, hovering persistently, rain bucketing down.

People were laughing and pointing now. Everyone was looking around, trying to see who had done it, but no one had seen Remus cast it, apart from his friends, that is. He sat down, but kept his wand trained on Severus, grinning as he watched the boy still trying to run away from the mini-storm.

“Yes!” Sirius whispered, “Bloody yes, Lupin, you beauty!”

Laughter echoed around him. It was true, Sirius was a rather foul, spiteful boy, and even some of the Slytherins looked pleased to see him get what he deserved.

The cloud darkened and swelled as the rain fell harder.

Severus was completely soaked now, his hair plastered to his head and getting in his eyes as he desperately tried to escape.

“Stop it!” Lily was screeching at James, “I know it’s you! Stop it now!”

James kept laughing and held his hands up to show he wasn’t doing anything. Lily looked close to tears.

Severus made to run, arms over his head to stop the rain pelting him, but his robes were so heavy and so waterlogged that he half-tripped, half-slid and collapsed to the floor.

“Remus, he’s had enough now,” the Doctor told him quietly, “You need to stop.”

But Remus didn’t respond and the rain fell harder still, until it was difficult to even see Severus through the grey sheets. The cloud was bigger too, and crackling with thunder and lightning as it had never done in practice.

“Stop it! Please!” Lily was sobbing now.

“Remus, stop!” The Doctor called to him over the commotion.

“Remus, seriously, mate. You’ve done enough,” James said. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

In fact, no one was laughing anymore. And Severus wasn’t getting up.

The Doctor launched himself at Remus, tackling him into the table, just as a booming voice echoed over the dining hall.

“FINITE.”

At once, the rain stopped. Everyone was silent.

Professor Dumbledore stood in the entranceway – the Doctor hadn’t seen the headmaster since Halloween. He looked perfectly calm, despite the chaos he’d just ended. With a wave of his wand, all the water on the floor was swept up.

Making his way to Severus, he bent over the boy and whispered over his unconscious body. Lily, who was still sobbing, ran over to stand beside the headmaster, trembling and frightened.

“Everyone to your dormitories, please,” Professor Dumbledore spoke quietly, but somehow everyone in the massive hall heard his voice. “Miss Evans, please fetch Madam Pomfrey.”

Lily ran from the room and the students began to file out.

Most of the Gryffindors hung in the common room, gossiping and chattering, all wondering who could’ve done it. The marauders, all crept upstairs, pale faced with guilt.

Remus sat on his bed, staring at the floor.

“What happened?” James asked carefully, “Did you lose control of it? That was really strong magic.”

“It was amazing!” Sirius insisted, “He’ll think twice about crossing us again!”

“Are you mad!” The Doctor shouted, looking around the room at each of the boys. “We hurt him. Again. You told me I worry too much, but look what we did! We’re not supposed to hurt people. I should never have let this happen –”

“Oh, don’t pretend you’re so high and mighty, John,” Sirius grumbled, using his first name like an insult, “you helped us. And we didn’t think it would go wrong like this –”

“He probably wasn’t even hurt, just pretending to get us in trouble,” James added.

“You don’t think we’ll all get in trouble, do you?” Peter asked, wringing his hands, “We didn’t all do it, did we? It was only…”

Sirius slapped him around the back of the head, “You rat. We’re marauders – all for one and one for all.”

“Then we need to make decisions like this as a team,” The Doctor said, “and I for one –”

“You agreed,” Sirius reminded him forcefully, “you said you wanted to be more normal –”

“In what way is this normal?”

Before Sirius could say anything back, there was a knock at the door.

It was Frank Longbottom.

“You five are to come to McGonagall’s office, now.” He said gravely.

The boys silently filed out, following Frank down the stairs and through the common room, where everyone stared at them as they passed. There would be no doubt who had been responsible.

Professor McGonagall was not alone in her office. Professor Dumbledore stood beside her desk, his hands folded in front of him. He smiled pleasantly at the five Gryffindors who stood in a line before them.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said.

“Good evening, headmaster,” they all chanted back.

“You may be interested to know that young Mr. Snape is quite well – though his pride has been rather wounded.”

No one said anything, but tension diffused from the Doctor’s shoulders slightly.

“He seemed to think that you five had something to do with his misfortune.” Professor Dumbledore continued, pleasantly, as if he was just passing the time of day. “Particularly you, Mr. Potter.”

James looked up, opened his mouth, then closed it again and looked down.

The Doctor steeled himself and took a breath. Remus got detention so often that if he took the blame, he could easily get expelled. Sirius taking the blame could mean his parents hearing of it. James would likely insist they all go down together for it, and as for Peter, well, he wasn’t about to take the blame for someone else.

“I did it, Professor.” The Doctor said.

He could hear the other boys behind him turning their head to exchange shocked looks.

The headmaster raised a doubtful eyebrow, so the Doctor went on, “he was cruel to my classmates earlier.”

“So it was out of a need for revenge?” Professor Dumbledore said, sounding unconvinced.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you acted alone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I can’t say I’m not extremely disappointed in you, Mr. Smith,” he spoke, “I’ve heard from your professors that you’ve got the best marks in your year in all but history.”

“I’m rather rubbish at remembering things in the right order, sir.”

Professor Dumbeldore smiled, as if aware of the Doctor’s in-joke.

“However, I find it hard to believe that it was you who –”

“I did it, professor.” Remus blurted out. “The Doc – er, John’s lying. I cast the spell. It was just me, he’s trying to cover up for me – it was actually him who tried to tackle me out of the way when it was getting too much.”

“Just you, Mr. Lupin? No one else?”

“Yes, sir,” Remus said, “he said some stuff to me earlier and I was pissed off with him. I wanted to teach him a lesson,” he forced himself to look up and make eye contact with the headmaster for the first time, “Don’t punish John. Look, I can prove it was me –”

He pulled out his wand for the professor’s inspection, but Professor Dumbledore gestured it away, “No need. I believe you, Mr. Lupin.”

“It wasn’t just him, sir!” Sirius burst out, “I looked up the spell, I learnt how to do it too, it’s just as much my fault.”

“You mean you planned this, Black?” Professor McGonagall said sharply, “You planned an attack on another pupil? Ten points from Gryffindor. Each.”

Sirius looked down again.

“And detention for all five of you, for a month,” she continued, “I find it very hard to believe that any one of you here acted alone.”

The Doctor bowed his head down in acceptance, the other four boys following suit.

“You may go, gentlemen.” Professor Dumbledore said quietly. “I have no doubt you will take the time to apologize to Mr. Snape, of course.”

“Yes, Professor,” The Doctor said, drowning out the indignant noise Sirius made.

They turned to leave, but Professor McGonagall called out, “Mr. Lupin, Mr. Smith, I need a word with the both of you.”

James, Sirius, and Peter left the room in silence.

“One at a time, please. Lupin, if you would wait outside.”

Remus followed his friends, leaving just the Doctor alone with Professor McGonagall and the headmaster.

The headmaster gestured for him to sit and, once he had, gazed down at the Doctor with piercing eyes.

“How are you finding Hogwarts so far, Mr. Smith?”

An unexpected question. He suspected where this conversation might go – Professor Dumbledore was an unquestionably observant man. If the Doctor wanted to remain undercover, he needed to come out of this as unremarkably as possible. 

“It’s all right,” he shrugged as casually as he could muster.

“You seem to have had no problem making friends.”

“No, sir.”

“If what Remus says is true about you trying to stop him, I would like to ask what prompted you to take the blame for him?”

“To be entirely transparent, sir, I was concerned about expulsion seeing as he has a rather impressive track record of detentions.”

The professor looked at him curiously, appearing almost amused, “we would not expel him over something like this. It’s clear he is very sorry for what he’s done.”

“I’m glad to hear that, sir.”

“But you are a most curious boy, John.”

He tried to swallow back the anxiety in his voice. “Oh, am I?”

“I saw the essay you submitted to Professor McGonagall. It was revolutionary – and I do not use that word lightly.”

“It was just…science.”

“You must have very intelligent parents, then.”

Ah, yes. There was that prying for information. Either the TARDIS or his future self must have forged some paperwork to get him in, but if they tried to contact anyone on it, he wasn’t sure it wouldn’t buckle beneath the lies.

“I actually went to a different school before here,” he decided, “for gifted kids.”

“I see,” Professor Dumbledore did appear quite surprised, indeed. “I wasn’t aware of a school that took students so young.”

“Yes, well, it’s a bit local so you won’t have heard of it.”

“You’ll find I’m well acquainted with a good many schools, Mr. Smith.”

“They’re very private –  very secretive. You won’t have heard –”

“The school, Mr. Smith.” Professor McGonagall interrupted.

“The Gallifreyan Academy,” The Doctor blurted. “In Ireland.”

Professor Dumbledore was quiet a moment. He and Professor McGonagall had a wordless conversation, skepticism drenching their every facial movement.

“You’re welcome to do your own research into them, professor,” the Doctor said, “But they pride themselves on their secrecy and exclusivity. If you’ve not been invited, you’ll never find them.”

“Very well, John,” Professor Dumbledore said in acceptance, “But there was another reason I wanted to speak with you.”

“Oh? And what would that be, professor?”

“You do exemplary work, Mr. Smith,” Professor McGonagall said, “you have incredible academic potential. To be perfectly honest, we believe you may be wasted in your current classes.”

The Doctor frowned at her, “Wasted, professor?”

“We want to create a special program for you, Mr. Smith,” She explained, “You’re exemplary at the majority of subjects, and even in history you’re easily passable. We could organize private tutoring with your teachers and for you to take classes with older students. You would be put in more advanced study groups and I believe Professor Dumbledore has found a variety of summer internships that may pique your interest.”

The Doctor frowned at the abnormal inflection in her voice.

“I sense a drawback,” he commented.

“Indeed,” Professor McGonagall said, “You may find your schedule…incompatible with that of your current classmates.”

“By design, I assume,” The Doctor quickly realized, “You think they’re holding me back.”

“I see that little escapes you, John,” Professor Dumbledore observed.

“Yes, professor,” the Doctor said, “And I appreciate the gesture, but I must decline your offer.”

“For what reason, Mr. Smith?” Professor McGonagall asked, “You do remarkable work and are clearly driven to learn –”

Professor Dumbledore raised a hand for the professor to taper off.

“I think your friends will find your choice very honorable, indeed,” He said, “But I warn you not to find yourself here again. You have much promise – do not squander it.”

“I don’t intend to, professor.”

“Excellent. So if that is all, I’ll have you send Remus in on your way out –”

“There is actually something I’d like to speak with you about, professor,” the Doctor said before he could be properly dismissed.

“By all means, John.”

“It’s about Sirius Black.”

“What about him?”

The Doctor hesitated a moment, “To be honest, I’m concerned about his home life, professor.”

“We’re well aware of Mr. Black’s situation,” Professor McGonagall said.

“So it’s being handled?”

“What’s happening is between Mr. Black and his family,” said Professor Dumbledore, “I’m afraid there’s not much we can do there.”

“Not much you can do?” The Doctor said indignantly, “Is there no child protective services?”

“Non-magical laws are different than magical –”

“So it never occurred to you, in the hundreds of years of magical lawmaking, that maybe – just maybe – you should put some legal prevention in place to keep families from abusing children?”

“Mr. Smith –”

“The Muggle world has it, and you didn’t once think, ‘oh maybe we should follow suit?’”

“Mr. Smith, it is not your place –”

“Not my place?” He demanded, “Children are getting abused, and you, Professor Dumbledore, with all your influence in the Ministry and its policies, are just allowing that to happen.”

“I understand your anger, John,” Professor Dumbledore said gently, “And there is always more progress to be made. But for now, we must work within our bounds and do what we can to protect the students under our care –”

“But you can do more,” the Doctor reminded him, “You have the power to do more.”

The headmaster laughed softly, “If only politics were that simple, John.”

“Oh, I understand the complexity of politics,” the Doctor said scathingly, “I understand that his family is notable and influential, and I understand that if you took a stance against this, they would be investigated. I understand that would mean there would be political ramifications for you. But if I may, professor,” he snarled out the word, “I don’t particularly care if rescuing children from abusive homes hurts your political career.”

Professor Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Finally, he said, “You’re a very smart boy, John. And your care for your classmates is admirable. One day, you may make a wise politician. For now, I would encourage you to focus on your studies.”

“Fine.” The Doctor said, standing up from his seat, “If you won’t do anything, I will. Good night, professors.”

He stormed out of the room, the door slamming against the wall as he forced it open, causing all four marauders behind the door to jump.

“Woah, Doctor, what –”

“They’re ready for you Remus,” the Doctor said sharply, “I’m going to the library.”

He continued walking, giving no time for any of the boys to respond.

The Doctor spent as much time as he could library reading up on wizarding law and debating whether or not to interfere. It was a particularly precarious situation. If he worked to fix this situation, he could bring progress way too quickly. He could advance a civilization not ready to advance. But other humans already had these laws in place.

This is what happened when he stayed in one place for too long, he supposed.

And he was given plenty of time to think about it, as Professor McGonagall was incredibly serious about their detentions, and even went so far as to split the five of them up. Sirius was tasked with scrubbing cauldrons in the dungeons, Peter with polishing the trophies in the awards room, James with reconfiguring every astronomy telescope in the tower, and Remus with mucking out the owlery. And the Doctor? He was tasked with assisting Professor Slughorn in his office with whatever he may need – From sending letters to old Slug Club members to helping him write out lesson plans.

Well, at least Professor Slughorn was having fun.

“Cruel and unusual is what it is,” Peter complained at the end of the first week as they fell into bed, filthy and exhausted.

“Dunno what you’re moaning about,” Sirius grumbled, “I’d love to polish trophies. Who knows what I’ve caught scraping out crusty potions from the bottoms of those bloody cauldrons.”

James just groaned, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

Remus didn’t complain at all.

“What’ve they got you doing, Doc?” James asked.

“Helping Professor Slughorn,” the Doctor said lamely.

The rest of the boys (save Remus) groaned in envy.

“It’s not fair,” Sirius complained, “How come you get to just sit around with Slughorn all night?”

“Because he’s still trying to convince him to join the Slug Club,” James said, sounding equally irritated, “Bet he thinks if he gets him off detention, he’ll do it.”

Sirius and Peter groaned in agreement.

The Doctor snapped his textbook shut, “I’m going to get some rest.”

James snorted, “Like you ever rest.”

“Doctor, are you all right?” Remus quietly asked. It had been the first time he’d spoken all evening. “Because ever since Dumbledore’s office you’ve been all…distant.”

“Just busy. Thinking. Frustrated.”

“Such short, clipped words. Now I know something’s wrong.” James pointed out teasingly.

The Doctor ran an exhausted hand over his face. “I’m fine – Seriously. Just been busy with school.”

“You’re lying to us,” Sirius said, frowning, “You never lie like this.”

“Plus, you’re a genius,” James added, “You’re never busy with school.”

The Doctor didn’t reply as he put down his things and went to draw his curtains.

“You’re not still mad about the prank, are you?” James asked, “Because I thought you’d forgiven us when you tried to take the blame.”

The Doctor sighed deeply, moving his hands back down. “I’m not angry with you – I never really was. At the end of the day, you’re –  we’re kids, and we’re going to make mistakes.” Rassilon knows I did, he added silently, “But we have to learn from them. We have to be better as humans.”

“You know, Doc,” Sirius said, “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said ‘humans’ that didn’t make you sound like an alien.”

How ironic.

“So if it’s not the prank,” Remus said quietly, “What are you so mad about?”

“I had a disagreement with Professor Dumbledore,” The Doctor spoke cautiously, “On how certain things should be handled. I’ve got to decide whether or not to pursue it.”

“Well, maybe you should take your own advice, Doctor,” James suggested, “Let it go and leave it alone.”

“You can’t always do that,” The Doctor admitted, “Sometimes you’ve got to pursue these things. People could get hurt if I don't, but I could do more damage if I do.” He covered his mouth with his hand as he spoke. “I don’t really know what to do.”

He glanced over towards Remus, who suddenly had gone very pale.

“Remus, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I just…I just forgot I had to see McGonagall in the morning. I should probably get some sleep.”

He sounded slightly panicked, but before waiting for anyone to comment, he quickly shut his curtains.

“Yeah, I guess it’s getting late,” Sirius agreed, beginning to set himself up for bed as well.

James and Peter soon followed suit.

The Doctor drew his curtains, turned on his torch, and continued to read.

Chapter Text

Remus proceeded to avoid the group for the rest of the week. He always had his excuses, from homework to detention, but the Doctor hadn’t seen him get detention since the prank, and he hadn’t been behind in homework since Sirius’s spell.

And the Doctor wasn’t the only one to notice. But he also had made himself sparse, often finding himself skidding into the common room mere minutes before curfew – Remus not far ahead or behind. 

However, the Doctor couldn’t help but feel that Remus was avoiding him more than anyone else.

He practically jumped whenever the Doctor saw him and wouldn’t speak more than a few half-polite words.

It was disconcerting to say the least, and was clearly affecting his quality of sleep.

The Doctor had kept up with some of his extra classes since break. Professor Slughorn was always more than happy to allow him extra time in the potions classroom to figure out more advanced potions, and Professor Sprout, pleased that someone was so interested, would allow him to help replant some of the more advanced flora, explaining the properties of each one as they went. Professor McGonagall wasn’t going any easier on him, either. She was determined to push the Doctor, even if that meant having him write essays on subjects she didn’t know about.

It was a Sunday afternoon and the Doctor had just finished picking up a book from his dormitory after leaving the greenhouse – Professor Sprout had been showing him the proper way to plant dittany. With all the other marauders out making mischief, he decided to make his way back to the library. At this point, he felt like he’d read every book in the library that so much as mentioned wizarding government, yet he made his way back to the library anyway – perhaps he’d see if Madam Pince, the librarian, knew of anything else.

“Oh! Hey! John!”

He glanced around to see Lily hurrying out the portrait hole behind him

“Lily, ‘ello.”

Lily had initially been absolutely furious with the Doctor after the prank, suspecting that he had something to do with it. But once he’d explained that it was not supposed to be such a cruel spell, her anger had lost such intensity. Her belief in the word of any of the other marauders would have been unexpected to say the least. But he was the Doctor. There was a kinship between them, despite everything. Neither of them wanted their friends to fight, yet neither of them could stop them, and they knew that about each other.

“Heading to the library?”

The Doctor hummed in affirmation, “I’ve been doing some research on wizarding laws and the way they’re adapted from muggle ones.”

“Should’ve known it would be something like that,” Lily said, “I’m meeting Severus in the library to work on our potions papers.”

“He really is quite gifted in potions, isn’t he?” the Doctor said, “He’s certainly got an eye for detail – I’ve noticed he’s scribbled all sorts of corrections in his textbook. It’s quite impressive.”

“He’s nowhere near as good as you are, though,” Lily admitted, “It’s been frustrating him for ages that he can’t ever beat you.”

The Doctor snorted, “I’m a chemist, Lily. It’s no fault of his that he can’t.”

Lily frowned. “You’re just as old as we are, how can you be a chemist?”

Right. Child. Just be a child, just like everyone else here. Just be a normal human who had one trackable timeline and lifespan. That means one unchanging story. Humans confer and let information slip. He had to keep things consistent.

“I went to a school before this one,” the Doctor said in faux admittance, “For gifted children. I studied mostly thermodynamics, so it translated quite well to chemistry, as well as –” he gestured as if to say, obviously , “potions.”

She frowned, “I thought you grew up in the muggle world.”

“I did,” the Doctor assured her, “See, most magical things have non-magical qualities that, if you know enough about them, can allow certain skills to transfer quite well. Transfiguration is just energy transference, Herbology is just more complex gardening and medicine, History of Magic coincides with non-magical history more often than not, and Potions…” he shrugged, “just chemistry.”

She just stared at him in disbelief, “And you know about all those things?”

“I was a very gifted child.”

“Hold on, is that why you call yourself ‘the Doctor?’” She asked, “Is it because you have an actual doctorate?”

The Doctor grinned – how incredibly convenient. “Science, engineering, candy floss, take your pick.”

Lily was now looking significantly less impressed, more irritated than anything else. There was no better way to get someone to lose suspicion in you than to convince them you were mad and talking absolute rubbish.

They walked in silence for a bit, before Lily finally spoke.

“Why do you think James and Sirius keep picking on poor Sev. Really, I mean?”

“The same reason Severus and Mulciber pick on them,” the Doctor shrugged. They’d had this conversation before.

“I know, but the thing is, if they just stopped, I’m sure Severus would –”

“They’re not going to stop until Severus does,” the Doctor said. “And Severus won’t stop until they do.”

“So you’re saying we’re stuck?”

“Yep.”

They walked a bit further. “He keeps saying all this stuff about muggle-borns,” she finally said, “and…and I’m not quite sure what to do. He says I’m different, but –”

“It’s making you uncomfortable,” the Doctor nodded empathetically.

“He’s really not a bad guy,” she further insisted, “But I’m not quite sure what to do.”

“You’re in a dangerous position, Lily” The Doctor said after a moment of thought, “Severus, and the people he surrounds himself with, hold a lot of prejudice. Severus likes you – he respects you enough to overlook those prejudices, which shows there’s room for change and growth. But I warn you to be careful. The beliefs he holds are not harmless.”

Lily looked down at her toes. “He’s a lot nicer when we’re alone – just hanging out the two of us.”

“I don’t doubt it, Lily.”

“And James and Sirius just really rile him up.”

“They’re doing it on purpose,” the Doctor agreed.

“I bet I could convince him to let you join us sometime,” She suggested as they turned down another hallway, “You’re by far the most sensible one –”

Her final words trailed off as they heard commotion coming from the next hallway down – the laughing jeers of Severus and Mulciber over the sound of the aggressive contact of stone hitting flagstone.

“What’s going on – Severus?” Lily called as they booked it for the hall.

As the two of them skidded in, the corridor rang silent. Severus and Mullicber were standing there, alongside Remus, who looked to have fallen back onto the wall and was trying to discreetly wipe blood from his face.

“What did you do?” The Doctor demanded.

“Nothing,” Severus glanced at Lily before looking back at the flagstones, “Just chatting up Lupin, weren’t we, Mulciber?”

Mulciber shrugged unconvincingly. The Doctor glanced at Remus, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, turning and trying to hurry away from the scene.

“Wait, Remus!” Lily ran after him, snatching up a book off the floor as she went.

“What were you doing to him?” The Doctor demanded again of the two Slytherin boys.

“Nothing we can’t do to you too, Smith,” Severus sneered.

“Easier to say things like that now that Lily’s gone, isn’t it?”

Severus’s stance became significantly less secure than before, yet much more aggressive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You scare her sometimes, did you know that?” The Doctor continued calmly.

“Watch your tongue, Smith –”

“I just thought you should know, Severus,” the Doctor said. “That if you don’t change you’re going to lose her.”

The Doctor left before Severus and Mulciber could hex him too.

“Wait,” Remus was saying as the Doctor approached. “Are you saying that you’d be okay with it if Mulciber and Snape were cursing James and Sirius instead of me?”

“I mean, it would be a fair fight at least,” Lily was replying, “And, you know, they do bring it on themselves, acting the way they do.”

“You’re wrong,” Remus said flatly. “Now leave me alone, will you?” He noticed the Doctor making his way over, “You too, Doctor. Just stay away from me!”

He booked it back towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

Neither Lily nor the Doctor dared followed.

With the Doctor all out of magical law books, he found him spending increasingly more time with the marauders again. Remus appeared to as well, however he still was skittish around the Doctor and never seemed to look him in the eye.

It was like he was scared…

“It’s great to have you back, Lupin,” Sirius grinned, pulling the invisibility cloak as they entered the (previously locked) Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“What d’you mean?” Remus replied. The Doctor could see the boy watching him discreetly from the corner of his eye as the Time Lord stowed his Sonic Screwdriver. “I haven’t been anywhere.”

“Come on, mate,” Peter said as he held the ladder for James, who was climbing the ladder in the corner of the room in an attempt to reach the highest shelf that stowed a cage of sleeping pixies. “It hasn’t escaped our notice that you’ve been avoiding us like the plague – even more than the Doctor has.”

“I haven’t,” Remus twisted his mouth, “Just been busy. You know, studying and stuff.”

“Well, I hope you’re over that phase now,” James laughed, slowly climbing down, clutching the large can in both hands, “I’d really appreciate it if you stopped working so hard – it makes me have to work hard, you see, and I’m not used to the competition.”

“Oh, do one, Potter.” Sirius snarled, rummaging through the drawers and inside desks.

“What about the Doctor?” Remus asked, “Not enough competition for you?”

His words were casual, but there was a hint of something else to them. As if he somehow had insight as to how dangerous the Doctor truly was.

“He’s a genius, he doesn’t count.”

“Sounds like an excuse not to work, James,” the Doctor teased.

James shrugged as if to say, maybe.

This prank wouldn’t be too bad, the Doctor had decided. It had nothing to do with hurting others, and it wasn’t a targeted attack. Just some good-natured mischief. He could get behind that.

“How are we going to get them into the dining hall?” Remus asked.

There were about fifty of the small blue creatures, curled up and sleeping at the bottom of the cage. It felt a bit cruel, if he was honest. Much better to liberate them.

“Under the cloak,” James replied, spreading it wide now so that they could all get under. “Come on Sirius,” he rolled his eyes at the long-haired boy who was now on his hands and knees under the teacher’s desk.

“What are you looking for?” The Doctor asked, making his way over to help.

“One of the Ravenclaws told me there was a trap door under here,” Sirius sighed, getting up and dusting off his knees. “Liar.”

“This is Black’s newest obsession,” James explained as he closed the cloak over them and they headed for the door, “Finding secret doors.”

“Hogwarts: A History says there are loads of undiscovered passages!” Sirius said defensively, “Like the one you found, Lupin. There are definitely more, I want to find at least one before we leave.”

“There’s also supposed to be a monster hidden somewhere in the castle,” James whispered back as they made their way along the halls towards Gryffindor tower. Peter shuddered.

“Ooh, I do love a good monster.” The Doctor grinned giddily. Maybe this year could be really interesting after all.

“Of course you do,” James rolled his eyes.

The next evening at dinner, James was grinning like a madman, trying to look as though he wasn’t hiding fifty sleeping pixies underneath the table and failing miserably. Peter was busy checking over the other marauders’ homework, which was to label every star on the chart.

The Doctor had offered to help, but the boys had long-since learned not to let him help with their astronomy homework. As it turned out, he had a penchant for adding unnecessary and incorrect details – again, they weren’t incorrect, but no one else would know that for the next eight centuries.

“Honestly,” Peter groaned, scribbling something out on Sirius’s homework, “You’d think you’d get your own bloody star right…”

Sirius laughed.

“What can I say, I’m hopeless.”

“You have your own star?” Remus frowned.

“Sirius,” The Doctor hummed pleasantly, “The Dog Star. The brightest star in the Earth’s sky apart from Canopus – Well, I say star, it’s actually part of a binary star system of two white stars that orbit each other.”

“Of course you’d know that.” James rolled his eyes.

“Wait, so which star’s Sirius, then?” Remus asked.

“They both are – Sirius A and Sirius B.”

Remus shook his head, “I just thought it was his name.”

“A good few of your family’s got astrological names, don’t they?” The Doctor recalled, “Andromeda’s named after a galaxy, Bellatrix is the third-brightest star of Orion…”

“The Noble and most Ancient House of Black has always been a bit artsy with its naming conventions,” Sirius mused, “Most of us have astrological names – my dad’s Orion, my brother’s Regulus…Mum isn’t a star, I think she’s an asteroid – pretty apt, if you’ve ever seen her in a bad mood. Then there’s good old uncle Alphard, uncle Cygnus…” He gestured as if to say, and so on.

“Wizards are so weird.” Remus sighed.

“You know, there’s a moon called Remus,” the Doctor said, “It orbits main-belt asteroid 87 Sylvia.”

“Isn’t there also the constellation Lupus?” James asked.

“Right next to Centaurus,” the Doctor nodded, “It’s the constellation of the wolf.”

“The what?” Remus nearly choked on his dinner. Sirius slapped him hard on the back, deftly changing the subject.

“If Pete and the Doctor are done lecturing us about astrology, can we get on with releasing the you-know-what’s? My lovely cousins have just started eating, I’d call that perfect timing…”

It really was excellent timing. James gave the cage a sharp kick to wake up the pixies before sweeping away the cloak and whispering a quick unlocking charm on the cage. There was an explosion of noise and colour and chaos.

The pixies burst out from under the table, the tiny creatures scattered in all directions, chattering in high pitched voices and zooming back and forth across the Great Hall. They leapt into plates of mash, squealing with delight, and grabbed plates and cutlery out of students’ hands, flinging them across the room.

“Quick!” James ducked under the table, where they all crouched under the invisibility cloak, watching the anarchy unravel around them.

“Brilliant!” Sirius kept saying, “Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!”

“C’mon,” Remus said, nudging the others forward. The plan had been to observe for a while, then sneak out the hall as quickly as possible without getting caught.

They awkwardly navigated their way out from under the table – made especially difficult by several other students who were attempting to dive for cover. Fortunately, it seemed that the pixies couldn’t see through the invisibility cloaks, and the five of them were left alone.

In the uproar, no one else noticed them, either – everyone was far too busy screaming, covering their heads, and trying to grab back and protect their stolen items.

“OH YES!” Sirius suddenly gasped, bursting into fitful laughter.

The Doctor glanced over to see Bellatrix, screaming at the top of her lungs, her wild hair being yanked from side to side by the tiny blue pixies, another fluttering above her having caught her wand and was waving it at her, zapping blue lightning.

“Get off me! You filthy – you disgusting – you – Aaargh!” She wailed. Narcissa was cowering under the table, clutching her own wand tightly.

Things escalated even further when Peeves, a poltergeist – not a ghost, the Doctor had quickly learned – who resided at the school and spent as much time as possible messing with the students within it, entered the room and began zipping about gleefully, causing just as much havoc.

Peeves seemed to be directing the pixies, lifting tablecloths and screeching, “Under here, piskies! Lots of ickle-firsties down here!”

Stifling laughter, the marauders fled from the room when they heard Professor McGonagall’s shrill voice ringing out, “Petrificus Totallus!”

“She’s definitely going to know it was us.” Peter wheezed as they made their way back to the tower, still under the cloak.

“Nah,” James replied casually, “I bet she blames it on the Prewetts, they always do big stuff like that. Something to aspire to.”

The Doctor smiled. This wasn't all that bad as a prank.  Maybe everything would be all right.

“Please,” Sirius was begging.

“No,” Remus replied.

“Pleeeeeease!”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“It would just feel…weird! I don’t want you to.”

“Why wouldn’t you want a birthday celebration, Remus?” The Doctor asked, watching the boy jump at the sound of his voice despite knowing he was there. “It’s so uniquely human.”

“Right,” he said nervously, “and I am a unique human.”

“You are,” he assured him.

“Leave Lupin alone, will you?” James chastised Sirius and the Doctor from behind them.

“I will not! This is too important!” Sirius was clearly in a restless mood, dragging the conversation down three corridors.

They’d had a long afternoon in the library, completing zodiac charts for their Astronomy revision. Exams were still months away, but James insisted on having a head start. Obviously, Sirius had to compete, and Peter followed James everywhere he went, and Remus didn’t want to be left out, and the Doctor, despite claiming it was because he had nothing better to do, really did enjoy spending time with the boys. They had been musing over star signs when Remus had off-handedly mentioned that he was a Pisces, which Sirius had quickly deduced meant that his birthday was coming up. And so the pleading had begun.

“It’s obviously not that important to Remus,” James hissed at Sirius, “Do something for my birthday, if you have to, it’s not long after.”

“You’ll get your turn,” Sirius dismissed him, “But first – Lupin.”

“I don’t really care, Sirius,” Remus sighed as they neared the common room. “Don’t make a fuss.”

“But it’s your birthday!” Sirius replied earnestly. “We should make a fuss.”

“Why’s it matter so much?” Remus huffed, climbing through the portrait hole.

But then the Doctor glanced over at Sirius, who was rubbing his arm and looking uncharacteristically hurt. Remus appeared to notice this too.

“You lot did stuff for my birthday and…well, it was really nice. I never much looked forward to it before but…well, it was great, wasn’t it?”

Remus hesitated, appearing torn as he looked at his friend.

“Oh…okay, fine.” He finally relented. “But not a big party or anything. Just marauders, right?”

“Right.” Sirius grinned, at once his face transformed, eyes twinkling with excitement.

Remus’s twelfth birthday fell on a Friday. Usually on Fridays after lessons, James would watch the Gryffindor quidditch practice, dragging as many marauders along as possible. However, Sirius managed to convince him that he could miss just one practice – especially as he wasn’t even on the team yet – and Remus might actually want to do something different on his birthday.

The Doctor, James, Sirius, and Peter banded together to wake Remus up the next morning by piling into his bed and shouting, “Happy Birthday, Lupin!”

The Doctor rambled facts about how birthdays were celebrated in other cultures – though he tried very hard to restrain himself and remain Earth-bound with his information – as they made their way down to breakfast.

Once they’d reached the Great Hall, James and Sirius marched ahead, pushing students out of the way as they approached their usual seats, loudly announcing,

“Out of the way, please!”

“Birthday boy coming through!”

“Move along, nothing to see here!”

The boys then made a big show of serving him his breakfast – Peter pouring his tea, James and the Doctor loading up his plate, all while Sirius buttered his toast.

“Do you have to?” Remus groaned, sounding horribly embarrassed.

“Absolutely,” James said.

“Definitely,” Peter nodded.

“Unquestioningly,” the Doctor agreed.

“Irrefutably,” Sirius finished.

Remus shook his head, blushing hard and looking down at his food.

When he had finished, the Doctor, Sirius, James, and Peter all stood up, still grinning widely at him.

“What?” He asked, twitching nervously.

When Sirius pulled a pitch pipe from his robes, Remus squeezed his eyes shut, that is, until the Doctor, Sirius, James and Peter began to sing.

“Haaaaaaaaaahhh-ppy birthday to you!” Well, he would would say sing, but it was really more of a scream, “Haaaah-ppy birthday to youuu! Haaaaah-ppy birthday dear Reeeeeeeeeeemus!”

At this point, the entire rest of the hall had joined in and Remus was covering his head with his hands.

“Haaaaaaah-ppy birthdaaaaaay toooooo youuuuuu!”

“Hip hip!” James yelled, standing on his seat.

“Hooray!” The Gryffindors chorused back.

“At least that’s over and done with,” Remus muttered as they finished cheering.

Peter looked at him with pity. “Sorry mate, but they’re planning to do the same at lunch and dinner.”

They still had to sit through Potions as their last lesson of the week. However, after the incident in the corridor, Severus hadn’t so much as glanced in Remus or the Doctor’s direction (though he still sent nasty looks at James and Sirius. Lily tried to flash Remus a smile as she wished him a happy birthday, before rolling her eyes as James and Sirius attempted to convince Professor Slughorn not to give them any homework out of respect for the ‘occasion’ – though once the Doctor joined in on the suggestion, it was all over and they left the dungeons gleefully homework-free.

At dinner, the loudest and final round of ‘happy birthday’ was sung, due in most part to Professor Dumbledore being present and conducting the entire school, bellowing at the top of his own voice.

After dinner, they sat in the common room and Sirius lugged down his heavy record player and put on Electric Warrior for the hundredth time since Christmas.

At some point, a cake was produced, with red and gold Gryffindor icing, and twelve pink candles. When Remus cut it open, he appeared amazed to find four different flavours – chocolate, lemon drizzle, Victoria sponge, and coffee and walnut.

“Like your toast,” Sirius grinned, looking thrilled at the look of surprise on Remus’s face. “Thought you might get bored if it was all one flavour.”

“Wow…thanks!”

“So what are we doing the rest of the evening?” The Doctor asked.

“It still looks like enough if you did want to go watch the –”

“He doesn’t, James!” Sirius said, pushing James from his perch on the edge of one of the armchairs into the soft cushion, “Bloody hell, you’re going to have to start developing some other interests, mate, you’re getting boring.”

“I don’t mind if you want to go and watch the quidditch practice.” Remus said, hurriedly, “You’ve already done plenty, honestly. Three songs in one day, what more could a twelve-year-old ask for?”

“No,” James shook his head heroically. “Sirius is right, it’s your birthday, we’ll do something you like doing.”

There was a beat of silence.

“So what do you want to do, Remus?” the Doctor prompted.

Remus frowned, looking unsure himself.

“Reading?” Peter said, trying to be helpful, “You read a lot.”

“Do I?” Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Yeah, you read loads,” the Doctor said, “I’m sure we could do something with that.”

“Oh yeah, great,” James rolled his eyes, “Happy birthday, Lupin, let’s start a book club.”

Remus laughed at that, holding his hands up apologetically, “Sorry lads, I reckon I must just be really boring.”

“What about when you disappear off?” Sirius asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Remus balked, “I told you, I’ve been sick. I go to the hospital wing.” Perhaps the Doctor was imagining it, but he thought he could see Remus’s eyes flick to him in a sheer panic.

Sirius waved his hand, “No, not then – sometimes you go off after lessons, or when we’re watching the quidditch. What are you doing?”

Remus went a bit red and bit his lip. “I just sort of…walk around.”

“Anywhere in particular?” The Doctor asked.

“Everywhere,” Remus shrugged. “I just like to look about. So I know where stuff is.” He pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and laid it down in front of the others. It was the map of the school they'd been given when they'd first arrived, now covered in ink from additional details. “It’s stupid, I just started adding stuff to the map they gave us at the beginning of the year and whenever I see something interesting I put it in.”

“You’ve added all the portraits,” the Doctor said, sounding very impressed, “everything’s labeled – what’s that there?”

He pointed at a mark Remus had made on one of the staircases.

“One of the trick steps,” Remus replied, “That’s the one you can sink into. That one,” he pointed to a mark on a different step, “is the one that vanishes. The staircases with arrows are the ones that move. I colour-coded so you can see where they end up.”

“Remus,” the Doctor said, “That’s brilliant!”

“D’you have any idea how much time this would save me?” Peter said enthusiastically, “I swear I get trapped on the wrong corridor twice a week because of those flipping stairs.”

“And me,” James said.

“Sod getting to lessons on time!” Sirius burst out, “Please try to recognize the extremely important implications of this map. The possibilities now available to us for practical jokes.”

A smile spread across James’ face, then Peter’s. Remus snatched back the map, folding it up.

“It’s not finished yet,” he said. “There’s loads to do. I wanted to do some spells on it, once I figure out how.”

“What sort of spells?” Sirius asked eagerly.

Remus hesitated. “Just some improvements,” he said, “You’ll think it’s silly.”

“Silly’s just the word for it,” The Doctor grinned, “Embrace it. Stupid? No, never. But silly?”

“Plus, we can help!” Peter added earnestly.

Remus looked a bit nervous. “I s’pose…” he finally relented, “it’s my map, though.”

“Of course it’s yours,” James smiled, “Like the cloak is mine, right? But in the service of mischief…”

“It’s the marauder’s.” Sirius finished, his eyes twinkling.

“The marauder’s map,” Remus repeated, still looking a bit unsure.

“It’s still your map,” the Doctor promised. “You get first say with what’s done with it.”

“We’ll put your name first and everything!” Sirius agreed.

“Not sure if we want our names on it…” Peter said nervously.

“Our nicknames, then.” Sirius shrugged.

“We don’t have nicknames,” Remus replied, “‘cept the Doctor. Well, I s’pose I sort of do, but I really don’t want ‘Loony Lupin’ written on it.”

The other boys laughed, and Remus looked a fair bit relieved. Even his look at the Doctor had softened.

The rest of the evening was spent under the cloak, roaming the halls. The cloak, admittedly, wasn’t all that necessary seeing as they all planned to be back before curfew, but James and Sirius never missed an opportunity to turn even the smallest trip into a full-scale mission.

Things became all the more clear when Sirius produced five dung bombs, which the boys entertained themselves with by creeping up behind unsuspecting snogging couples, or dropping them in the pockets of older students hurrying to the library – again, harmless. The Doctor was beginning to have hope for them.

Remus showed them everything he’d worked out so far – the passages and shortcuts he’d discovered, a number of hidden areas, and his plan to put some kind of tracking spell on Mrs. Norris, Flitch the caretaker’s cat, so that he’d be able to see her coming.

“Why stop there?” Sirius whispered as they turned a corner back into the common room at the end of the night, “Why not track everyone?”

“Everyone?”

“Couldn’t imagine it would be too hard,” the Doctor said, “wizards have all got a unique energy signature – it’s how you produce magic, with small amounts of psychic energy. It can’t be hard to find a spell that can distinguish them from each other.”

“We wouldn’t want to have to do it manually like that, though,” Sirius said, seemingly now immune to the Doctor’s scientific ramblings, “let’s see if we can find a way to have it automatically know who everyone is.”

The Doctor was suddenly the hesitant one, “We’d need to make sure it wouldn’t use the…well, wrong name for people.”

“You think it’ll get people’s names wrong?” Peter asked.

“Not everyone uses their birth name,” the Doctor said, “I just wouldn’t want it to…say something it shouldn’t. Even if we’re the only ones using it.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Sirius said, unconcerned.

“This would be brilliant,” James said, “If we know when anyone’s coming, we could get away with anything.”

“I dunno,” Remus was suddenly looking pretty unsure as well, his eyes flicking back towards the Doctor anxiously, before hurriedly looking away when the Time Lord met his gaze.

Was he hiding something? The Doctor frowned. Maybe there was more to Remus that he wasn’t discussing. He should probably leave it alone, though. Remus would tell him in his own time.

The Doctor had never been all that patient, though.

Chapter Text

Time seemed to drag on. While the Doctor’s restlessness had been quelled somewhat by the group’s frequent expeditions through the castle, he was still used to far-more excitement and adventure.

Yet, the spring did eventually come, flooding the castle with sunlight and fresh air – and alongside it came exams, which meant the boys couldn’t spend so much time planning new schemes, spending more of it practicing spells and quizzing each other on potion ingredients.

Sirius and James took exams very seriously – it was a competition to them. The Doctor didn’t need to study – despite Professor McGonagall’s best attempts to push him, he’d still be taking the first year exam. Remus wasn’t as studious as James or Sirius, but he was reading more and spending increasing time in the library. Since around the time of the prank, he’d not so much as considered accepting the Doctor’s help. Something had changed. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore had said something? But if the professor had wanted the boys to stay away from him, he would’ve told James, Sirius, and Peter too…

“How much do we need to pass the year?” Peter asked anxiously.

The pressure on him was all too evident. Peter wasn’t a bad student by any means – in Herbology and Astronomy, he even flourished, often beating James and occasionally the Doctor. But he was nervous, and it tended to affect his wand work, making his incantations sloppy.

“Peter, calm down,” James promised, “You’re going to be fine – You know all the theory backwards now, it’s just putting it into practice.”

“I don’t blame him for being a bit twitchy,” Sirius whispered when James and Peter were out of earshot, “There’ve been at least twelve squibs in the Pettigrew family – and that’s just this century.”

Remus frowned, “Squibs?”

“Non-magical people who are born to magical families, aren’t they?” The Doctor asked, trying to recall some of the reading he’d done, “The same way muggle families sometimes have magical children.”

“No one likes to talk about it much,” Sirius nodded, “My great, great uncle actually had this mad theory that muggles were swapping their children with ours so that they could infiltrate the wizarding world. Completely bonkers, obviously.”

“Right.” Remus replied, “So that’s why Peter’s magic is a bit…wonky?”

“I dunno,” Sirius shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know if they can actually prove that squibbishness runs in families. But it’s the reason the Pettigrews aren’t in the sacred twenty-eight.”

“The sacred twenty-eight, what's that?” the Doctor asked.

“They’re the purest of the pure-bloods,” Sirius explained, “The last remaining ‘un-tainted’ families – Their words, not mine!” He said quickly as Remus shot him a mean look. “You know I don’t believe in any of that blood purity rubbish.”

“Right,” Remus raised an eyebrow. “Bet the Blacks are top of the list, though.”

“Actually,” Sirius replied, his eyes glittering with humour, “The Abbot’s are the first. It’s alphabetical.”

Remus groaned and returned to his work, though the Doctor couldn’t help but notice him slowly scooching away from him as he did.

“What’s with you and Remus lately?” Sirius asked the Doctor one evening while the other boys were off watching quidditch practice (save, Remus, who was in the hospital wing again), “I’ve never seen him more anxious around a person.”

“I was hoping you would know,” the Doctor admitted. “He’s been off since the prank on Severus.”

Sirius frowned as he tried to recall that evening. “He was upset after – but I think he just felt guilty…You storming out of Professor McGonagall’s office was kinda scary, but I can’t imagine it would cause this much of a reaction. You didn’t even come back that night, anyway.”

“I can’t imagine it’s because he thinks I’m upset with him about the prank,” the Doctor said, “I told him I wasn’t.”

Sirius frowned, “He went really pale that night, didn’t he? And I thought he went to bed rather abruptly.”

“He did, didn’t he?” The Doctor considered this, “Just as I was telling you about the disagreement I had with Professor Dumbledore.”

“I wouldn’t say tell us about it,” Sirius said, “More like, mention that it happened and then preach about how you need to consider the options because inaction can do just as much damage as action can, blah, blah, blah.”

Could it have something to do with that? It must do, right? But how was it connected?

Sirius looked out at the pale full moon in the sky. If the Doctor listened hard, he could hear a wolf howling. “Think it has something to do with the fact that he’s in the hospital wing all the time?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor admitted honestly. Remus had been spending longer stretches in the hospital wing lately – he was there every month and his excuses were getting flimsier and flimsier.

“I’m worried about what happens to him when he goes home for the summer,” Sirius admitted. “He won’t be able to read and from what he’s said about the boys’ home he’s in…”

He let his words trail off. He didn’t need to finish.

“What about you?” The Doctor asked, “The offer’s still open if you’d like to come with me.”

“Yeah,” Sirius looked uncomfortable, “I just really don’t think my parents will let me –”

“I never said anything about letting you."

“Like…” He lowered his voice, as if afraid someone might overhear, “Like running away?”

“Could be fun, the two of us.”

Sirius stared at him. “Where would we go?”

The Doctor grinned, “Anywhere and everywhere.”

Sirius laughed faintly, “You’re completely mental!”

“And isn’t it just brilliant!”

Sirius’s smile faded.

“That would be some adventure,” he finally said.

The Doctor frowned, “You’re not coming?”

Sirius looked down at the floor, “I would never be allowed, and even if I went anyway, they’d find me and…” He shuddered. “It wouldn't be good.”

“I promise they won’t.”

Sirius shook his head. “You don’t know them like I do. They’d be able to, and when they did –”

“What if they couldn’t?” The Doctor pressed, “What if I could guarantee they would never be able to find us?”

He hesitated, “They’re my family…”

“Family doesn’t hurt each other, Sirius,” the Doctor said seriously, “Not like that.”

“But what happens when I get back to Hogwarts?” He asked, “Won’t they be able to find me then?”

Oh. Right. They were coming back after the summer. Was he even going to come back? Honestly, the Doctor wasn’t entirely sure.

“Well…yes, I suppose, but I’m sure we could –”

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Sirius said, “but I can’t.”

He headed off to meet up with James and Peter at the quidditch pitch, leaving the Doctor alone in the room with nothing but his books about wizarding law.

Well, at least he now knew what he’d be doing over the summer.

It was his choice in the end, but that didn’t mean the Doctor had to be happy about Sirius returning home that summer. Not that he’d entirely given up on the situation, but Sirius was right – the Doctor couldn’t just take him from the home with the expectation that the family wouldn’t retaliate. And there was no doubt in his mind that Sirius would not leave if it meant that he couldn’t return to Hogwarts the following year. He’d just need to find another way around it – though something told him that in his current physical form, intimidation was out of the question.

“Oi, Doctor!” James gestured him over as the Doctor climbed in through the portrait hole. The marauders were sitting together in the common room, Sirius and James on the big couch and Peter in an armchair, attempting to turn a banana into a slipper. Remus, on the other hand, was lying on the rug in front of the fireplace on his stomach, not looking all that comfortable. “We were just talking about the summer.”

Neither Remus nor Sirius appeared all that pleased to be having this conversation.

“The Doctor already tried, James,” Sirius said, sounding exasperated, “my parents will never let me stay at yours.”

“Cheer up, mate,” James slung an arm around his friend.

“They won't, though,” Sirius said, “Bellatrix’s bloody wedding is in June, you can bet I’ll have to be around for all of it.”

“We got an invite to that,” Peter suddenly spoke, looking up from his slipper, which was still bright yellow and looked unpleasantly squishy, “Probably see you there.”

“Yeah, great.” Sirius huffed, exhaling hard so that his long hair fluffed up over his forehead. “If I haven’t been turned into a newt. Or cursed into a portrait for the summer – they actually did that to Andromeda once. She’s never been the same, hates wizarding paintings now.”

The Doctor tried to control the overwhelming anger that that grew dangerously hot inside him. One way or another, the Black family was going to regret ever hurting their children.

“After the wedding,” James said, tactfully trying to steer the conversation away from the family, “then we’ll work something out. I’ll break you out of there, if I have to, I swear.”

“We all will,” the Doctor agreed firmly.

“You too, Lupin,” James said.

“Hm?” As Remus lifted his head from his thoughts, arching his back. For a fraction of a second, the Doctor could see a grimace. It was small and quickly covered up, but it was definitely…concerning. Did it have to do with his stay in the hospital wing?

“You should come and stay over the summer,” James went on, “We got loads of room, and mum wouldn’t mind.”

“Can’t,” Remus shook his head, looking back down at his book. “Matron won’t let me. Legal guardian stuff, muggle law.”

“There’ll be a way around it,” James replied confidently, “With all the reading the Doctor does about wizarding law, he’s gotta know a thing or two about muggle law.”

The Doctor grinned, at Remus, “Don’t you doubt in me, Remus.”

Remus looked a bit sick at the notion, if anything.

“So I assume you’re coming, Doc, right?” James asked.

The Doctor froze, “Right, er probably.”

James frowned, “Come on, Doc, you can’t tell me your parents are strict too.”

“My parents?" the Doctor said uncomfortably, "Nah, they can’t really tell me what to do,” Not anymore, they can’t. “But I might be, you know,” He sniffed, “Busy.”

“Is that the Academy thing you were talking about?” Sirius suddenly asked, “Is it like a smart kid summer school?”

“Yes!” The Doctor said quickly, “It is, actually.”

It really was the perfect cover – no one would question a kid as smart as he was attending summer school.

“That sucks,” James groaned.

“I think I’ve done it!” Peter gasped, suddenly holding his bright yellow slipper aloft.

“Well done, Pete,” Sirius said, “Try it on and see if it fits.”

“Eurgh!” Peter yelped, withdrawing his bare foot from the slipper, covered in sticky banana slime.

James burst out laughing, his glasses falling askew, “He was joking, Pete! You’ve gotta stop doing stuff just because we tell you to.”

Remus suddenly stood up very quickly.

The Doctor’s first instinct was to ask if the boy was all right. But seeing as he’d been hiding it from the other marauders, the Doctor seriously doubted Remus would say anything. However, before he could make his tactical move, Sirius jumped in,

“You okay, Lupin?”

“Yeah, just…I think I might need to go for a walk.”

“Where? It’s almost curfew,” Sirius’s face lit up, “What are you planning?”

“No no, nothing…I just fancied…”

“We’ll come!” James stood up too, “I’ll get the cloak.”

“No!” Remus shouted.

They all froze, even Peter, who was halfway through picking banana strings from between his toes.

“I…” Remus stammered, “I just don’t feel well. I just want to go to Madam Pomfrey, that’s all.”

“All right, mate,” James held up his hands gently, “Calm down. Want us to come with you anyway?”

“I’ll go,” the Doctor suggested amiably, “I’ve got a question for Madam Pomfrey anyway.”

He didn’t give time for Remus to protest, moving towards the portrait hole. Remus followed, his head bowed as if walking into the headmaster’s office.

They walked in silence through the empty corridor.

Finally, the Doctor said, “Are you all right, Remus?”

“Fine.” Remus said.

“Did someone hurt you?”

“Who says I’m hurt?” Remus snapped.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, “The way you’re walking, that’s for one. Then I saw you wince in the common room, and frankly you’re growing paler by the minute."

“Well, I’m going to Madam Pomfrey’s, aren’t I?”

“Remus,” the Doctor asked carefully, “Have you heard anything about me? Anything that might’ve…might’ve scared you?”

Remus’s look of confusion only further befuddled the Doctor.

“What are you talking about?” He demanded – the Doctor could hear a creeping of anxiety in his voice, but no sense of familiarity.

“Nothing, Remus,” the Doctor said, “You’ve just seemed a bit nervous around me lately, and I want to make sure you know that I would never hurt you. You do know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Remus said as they reached the door to the hospital wing. The Doctor couldn’t quite tell if that was relief in his voice or resignation. “Thanks, Doctor.”

The Doctor watched as he ducked through the door and disappeared from sight. He walked slowly back to the common room, wondering if he’d helped anything at all.

As the Hogwarts exam period started up, the castle became pandemonium. Lily Evans had taken to ambushing other students in the library and common rooms, demanding that they quiz her on the 18th Century Goblin Riots – though she’d stopped asking the Doctor when he began injecting extra pieces of information about the rebellion and how goblins were only standing up against prejudice and that wizards had been, and still were, horrible oppressors.

Peter, on the other hand, seemed to be constantly muttering to himself under his breath, wringing his hands together. Then there were these two Gryffindor first years, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald, who kept bursting into fits of hysterical giggles from nerves. Sirius and James appeared to be acting out with more bravado than ever – setting off flameless firecrackers in the corridors and performing vanishing spells on unsuspecting students’ book bags in the library – though whether it was them responding to the general atmosphere of anxiety or expelling their own nervous energy, the Doctor wasn’t sure.

It seemed the older students had no sympathy for their younger counterparts. Frank Longbottom gave out more detentions during the last week of term than he had all year, and even threatened to take fifty points from Gryffindor if James and Sirius didn’t stop levitating inkwells into common rooms.

However, it wasn’t half as bad as some of the other students had gotten – Bellatrix Black had cursed half the Slytherins one evening for talking too loudly while she studied. They couldn’t speak for three days while Madam Pomfrey had to grow their tongues back.

It truly was horrible, and she hadn’t so much as been punished. It seemed the Ministry wasn’t the only one in need of reform.

Their first exam was Charms, and all they had to do was bewitch a coconut to dance an Irish jig. It wasn’t particularly difficult, though the Doctor would quietly point out to Sirius every time it was more of a reel or a riverdance.

“I keep forgetting you’re Irish, Doc.” James had laughed quietly.

Overall, the marauders had done all right. The Doctor, Remus, James, and Sirius all managed without problem, although Peter’s coconut at first refused to move at all, then lost control once it finally got going and ended up spinning off the desk, smashing all over the flagstones.

Transfiguration went almost as well, though it was a trickier subject. Their task was to turn a stag beetle into a pepper shaker. Sirius and the Doctor managed it in just a few minutes, having both chosen glass. Remus did pretty well as well, having aimed for a ceramic shaker, though the texture still came out black and shiny from the beetle. James attempted porcelain and seemed to have done well enough until Professor McGonagall tried to shake some pepper out of it and it spread its wings and flew out of the window, causing Marlene and Mary to shriek. Peter’s pepper pot still had legs and antlers, even after an hour.

Herbology and History of Magic were both written exams, which the Doctor excelled in, followed by Potions, where their task was just to brew a cure for warts from memory. Even Remus seemed to do pretty well there – likely a result of a brilliant memory.

Between exams, the marauders would sit by the lake or wander the halls. It was the last few weeks of school and the Doctor…didn’t know what to do. The TARDIS had clearly wanted him to have a vacation of sorts, but now that the year was over, he had a responsibility to attend to, didn’t he? A universe to save. Could he really spend seven years at this school?

“Doctor, are you listening?” James demanded, jolting the Doctor out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?” He looked over.

“Our final prank,” he said obviously, “Obviously it’s got to be big – it’s our last hurrah after all.”

“Not our last,” Sirius reminded him, picking at the grass, “We’ll be back in a few months.”

“You lot might be,” Peter worried. “I know I’ve failed everything.”

James waved his hand, dismissing Peter’s fears, as if it was too warm and lazy of a day to spend reassuring him.

“You were fine, Peter,” the Doctor promised, “There were loads of other students who didn’t do half as well.”

That seemed to comfort him somewhat, reclining back onto the grass. They were lounging in their new favorite spot, near a tree by the lake. Peter was sitting under the shade cast by the branches because he was fair and burnt easily. James and Sirius had stripped off their robes and rolled up the sleeves of their white uniform shirts to combat the heat, right next to Remus, who remained in his robes, but basked in the sun as well. The Doctor was laying out on his stomach in the grass, tinkering with bits of machinery from his infinite pockets.

“Have we got any dung bombs left?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, a few,” James said, “Not enough for a big send off, though.”

The Doctor could hear the frown in Remus’s voice. “How big are you thinking, exactly?”

“Bigger than dung bombs,” James replied, cleaning his glasses as he often did when he was thinking, “Big enough so that everyone knows it was us.”

The Doctor snorted, “I seriously doubt Professor McGonagall would think it was anyone else.”

“They might think it’s the Prewetts,” James shot back, “They’ve been beating us all year.”

“Nothing beat the pixies!” Sirius said defensively.

“And the itching powder was pretty good, you have to admit,” Remus murmured, flinging an arm over his face.

“Exactly,” Sirius continued, enthusiastically, “You’ve got to give us points for ingenuity there.”

“And the raincloud!” Peter piped up, eager to be involved. They all fell quiet. They hadn’t really talked about that incident since January.

“Well, you want people to remember it, don’t you?” The Doctor hummed thoughtfully, skipping a rock across the lake, “Then you’ve gotta give them a name to remember.”

“But we already have a name,” James pointed out.

“Yes, but they don’t know that.”

“Doctor, you’re brilliant!” 

James was on his feet. “We need to sign our work!”

“What are you talking about?” Remus asked.

“We’re going to put our mark on Hogwarts, literally.”

“Are you talking about defacing school property?” Sirius arched a dark eyebrow, mischievous joy written all over his face.

“I think we just might be,” James said, wiggling his eyebrows in return.

This would be perfect – they could leave on a bang and not a single person had to get hurt.

“Wait, so you want us to write our names somewhere?” Peter asked, “On the walls?”

“Like, carve it into the stone or something?” Remus asked, “That’s a bit permanent, innit?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” the Doctor said, “I’m sure the professors will find a way to get it off.”

“WAIT!” Peter suddenly cried, “I’ve got an idea!”

“By all means, tell us, Pete!” James said.

“The lawn!” He beamed, “It’s the biggest canvas, and it wouldn't have to be permanent, it could be…if we used a quick-gro potion…”

And Pete’s plan truly was brilliant. It didn’t take much, only a few weeks of gathering supplies from the greenhouse and learning a few colour changing incantations. In the meantime, they learnt that they had all passed their exams – even Peter. The Doctor had come first in Transfiguration, Herbology, and just managed in History of Magic. He was rather impressed to see Remus come right behind him, only a few marks lower. Remus had also come second in Charms, behind Lily Evans, the Doctor coming right behind them in third – whilst he usually did quite well in Charms, the Doctor had quickly discovered that theoretical knowledge was not as helpful there as it was in other classes.

Finally, it was the early morning after the last day of term, and the Doctor, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all out on the grounds after curfew.

“Ouch! That was my foot!”

“Sorry!”

“Remus, take a half-step to the left so we can keep the cloak balanced.”

“Ouch! That was my foot!”

“Your other left, Remus.”

“How come you can see so well in the dark?” Peter complained.

“Good eyes?” the Doctor suggested.

“Can we take the cloak off now?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” James decided, “I think so…”

They had dragged a heavy sack of hydrangea seeds all the way down from the tower.

“C’mon gentlemen,” James grinned, looking down at the sack, “Let’s get to work!”

It took less than an hour to empty the sack of seeds completely and finish drizzling the ‘quick-gro’ potion over the ground.

“Hope we spelled everything right,” the Doctor hummed.

“Too late now,” Sirius said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “We’d better go, the sun’s coming up.”

He pointed at the sky, which was beginning to glow pink.

“The colour changing spell, quick!” James said.

“I did it already,” Remus said, “While they were still in the bag.”

“Good thinking, Lupin!” Sirius slapped him on the shoulder, “Knew you were the logical one.”

“Oi!” The Doctor called, though he didn’t look irritated at all.

“Smarts doesn’t mean logic, Doctor,” James reminded him.

“Should we go back now?” Peter asked nervously.

“No, not yet,” James said. “Look, we can watch the sun rise.”

Sirius laughed, “You big poof.”

They did watch the sun slowly creep into the sky, flooding the great lake with golden sparks, then paling as it rose higher into the parchment sky.

“Next year’ll be even better, lads,” James grinned, his glasses reflecting the new sun as he threw an arm around Peter and Sirius.

Right, The Doctor thought. Next year.

They headed back to the castle, almost forgetting to put the cloak back on.

When they reached the dormitory, James, Peter, and Remus tried to sleep, and Sirius finally began packing – he’d been putting it off for a week now, now throwing his things carelessly into his mahogany trunk. It was embossed with a serpent, like so many of Sirius’s things.

“Y’know, if there’s anything you need to keep safe over the summer while you’re at your parents’,” the Doctor said, “I’ve got a place you can keep it.”

Sirius smiled, “Thanks, Doc, but I’ll be all right. It’s just two months.”

“Right, yes. Two months.” Linear time, he had to remember that.

“Hey, mate, maybe one day we will run away together,” Sirius said, as if trying to comfort him.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, and I know you’re not going to your Academy over break.”

The Doctor looked at him curiously, “You were trying to give me an excuse,” he realized.

“Look, none of us here care if you’re homeless, but I get not wanting to tell them.”

“What – what do you mean?”

“We know you’re homeless, mate,” Sirius repeated. “Really, none of us care, but I still get not wanting anyone to know.”

“I – well, it’s not quite –” The Doctor swallowed, “Yes, I suppose homeless is an apt term, isn’t it?”

“You should stay with James, though,” Sirius suggested sincerely. “You know he won’t judge, and his parents seem nice.”

“Yes, maybe I will…”

“You better take care of yourself, Doctor.” He said, before tossing the pair of robes the Doctor had been borrowing at him, “Here, keep this.”

“I really don’t need –”

“And you said you would keep something safe for me,” Sirius shrugged, “So you keep that over the summer, and give it back next school year.”

The Doctor smiled. Times like this he was reminded of how observant Sirius truly was.

He accepted the robes, tossing back something of his own.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a transmitter,” the Doctor said, flicking up the Sonic, “You just push that button there, and it’ll transmit a signal to my Sonic Screwdriver. If you need me over the summer – if, if something happens and you aren’t safe, use that. I’ll find you – you could be anywhere in the universe, and I’d find you.”

Sirius turned the hexagonal object in his hands.

“Thanks,” he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “Thanks a lot.”

The Doctor smiled, making his way to the windowsill. The seeds were already taking root and growing very quickly, twisting and writing as they did.

“Still think it should’ve been ‘woz’, not ‘were’.” Remus said from behind him.

It seemed that the boy had not been sleeping as they’d assumed. He wondered how much of their conversation he’d heard.

“That’s bad grammar, Lupin,” Sirius said, joining them too. “Couldn’t have lived with myself.”

The three of them stood there for a while, watching the grass grow. Professor McGonagall would be upset, scold them if she got the chance, but it would be without malice or disappointment.

Finally, the hydrangeas bloomed, the gaudy flowers flashing below in Gryffindor colours, bright crimson and glimmering gold, blaring out their wonky-lettered message.

THE MARAUDERS WERE HERE!

Chapter Text

The TARDIS had been waiting for the Doctor as the train dropped him off at Kings Cross.

He flung open the doors and made a B-line for the console.

“Oh, I missed you, old girl.”

He fiddled around with her a bit – he had a touch of maintenance to do, but overall she seemed all right despite the full year they'd been apart.

“It was boring,” he complained when she prompted, dropping into one of the flight seats, “Absolutely uneventful. Not even a world-ending threat.”

He scowled as her pitch changed. “No, I didn’t, actually.”

The TARDIS hummed skeptically.

“Well, fine, I made a couple of friends. But that doesn’t mean – do you know how difficult it is trying to blend in as human?”

He rolled his eyes as she made her retort, “I know that! Just because I’ve got some experience doesn’t mean – this bloody backward subspecies – they won’t even listen to me since I’m in this form – and you will not believe some of these professors – I am not acting like a child!”

He looked up at her in disbelief. “Are you laughing at me? This was your fault, you know.”

Scowling, the Doctor stormed towards the console, turning dials and flicking switches.

Only, when he turned around, it was as if he’d never touched them.

Frowning, he flicked one back up.

It dropped back down the moment his land left the console.

“Oi! What’re you playing at?”

But the TARDIS didn’t reply, only sending him the faint semblance of amusement.

“Fine, you won’t let me go, I’ll do something else on my own – stop saying I’m acting like a child, I am not!”

He ended up calling Jack.

Not the current Jack, no – even if he didn’t mess up the timelines, he doubted this era’s Jack would be all that helpful. With some assistance, as he was now too short to reach the controls properly, the TARDIS allowed him to materialize in the Torchwood hub – around what he was estimating was the year 2009. Once Jack had finished laughing at him, the Doctor finally managed to swallow his pride and ask for his help.

“The age bit I actually don’t need help with,” the Doctor explained, “I’ve been undercover at a school, actually –”

"A preschool?"

"Oi! This body's eleven, I'l have you know."

“And you couldn’t go as a teacher?” Jack asked as he wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Ask the TARDIS,” He grumbled, “It was her choice.”

“So what do you need from me, Doc?” Jack managed to get out between laughs, “Someone to chaperone? Pretend to be your parent? I mean, it won’t be the first time someone’s called me Daddy –”

“No, Jack,” the Doctor rolled his eyes, “I need you to investigate a children’s home.”

Jack frowned, the humour leaving his voice, “A children’s home?”

“St. Edmund’s,” the Doctor said. He’d managed to drag up some old files from the TARDIS and figure out what home Remus was in, “I’m not looking to shut it down, but I've heard some concerning things about it from a boy at school.”

“Ah, yes, the Doctor: Oncoming Storm and intergalactic social worker.”

“Jack.”

“So what kinds of concerns are we talking?”

“I can’t be sure,” the Doctor admitted, “potential abuse? I’d go in myself, but…” He gestured to his body.

Jack let out another snort of laughter, “It’s hard to take you seriously like this.”

“Exactly.”

“And this was all the TARDIS’s idea?”

“It was!” The Doctor cried indignantly before, in a far calmer voice saying, “I think she wants me to take a break.”

Jack shrugged, as if unwilling to argue with the TARDIS, “To be honest, I think you could use one, Doc.”

“I’ve been on vacation,” the Doctor complained, “For almost a year – Bloody boring, it’s been. You know I can’t stay in one place this long.”

Jack shrugged, “Maybe that’s a good thing – A few years’ break could do you some good.” He glanced over warily, “How long’s it been since…y’know…?”

“Long enough,” the Doctor said coldly.

Jack flattened his mouth doubtfully.

“I’m fine, Jack – Really.” The Doctor further insisted. “And I’m not here for your opinion on this – I’m just trying to make sure the home is safe.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “The TARDIS doesn’t seem to think so.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes dramatically, “Jaaaack.”

A smile curled onto the captain’s face, “Well, you sure are acting like a schoolboy.”

“Oi!”

“But I’ll help you, Doc.” He promised, “Anyone specific you want me to look into?”

“The matron,” the Doctor said, “She might be using corporal punishments, specifically on a boy, Remus Lupin.”

“Remus like Remus and Romulus?” Jack asked, “Lupin like the Latin for wolf-like? Damn, who names their kid Wolfy McWolf? His parents must’ve hated him –”

The Doctor sighed, running a hand over his face, “Jack.”

“I’m on it, Doc,” Jack said, “Now give me a minute to get into my best ‘social worker’ uniform.”

The Doctor sighed. He should’ve never called him.

When Jack returned from St. Edmund’s, the Doctor was disheartened, to say the least, by the news he’d brought with him. While there wasn’t evidence of extensive physical abuse, the Doctor was quickly reminded of the standard amount of normalized abuse for the year they were in. Apparently, it wouldn’t be until 1986 that corporal punishment would be illegal in schools and childrens’ homes, and those were just the publicly funded ones.

For as much as he loved humans, they could be horribly barbaric and cruel.

“Well, I guess that means you’ve got to stay, Doc.” Jack shrugged.

The Doctor frowned, “What do you mean?”

He scoffed, “I can’t imagine you just left that kid in a place you thought was dangerous for no reason.”

“Well, no, but –”

“And the TARDIS didn’t send you to that school for no reason, either. Maybe you can help these kids.”

“I suppose…” the Doctor admitted.

“And seeing how easy I’m convincing you, I would guess you already decided you were going back before you even got here.”

The Doctor scowled at Jack.

He was right.

Knobhead.

He went straight to find Sirius.

Well, he tried.

The TARDIS couldn't seem to locate him – likely a result of the boat-loads of protection spells they had around the family home. However, Sirius had mentioned a wedding. That was much easier to find.

He’d had to do some research on magical wedding traditions – the Black family seemed like they’d be ones to follow tradition, and this would be the last place he needed to stick out. With any luck, there would be only one person who would recognize him.

And that he did.

Sirius gaped at the Doctor as he, in his bright green dress robes, shook hands with Walburga Black, Sirius’s mother.

“Horologium Black,” the Doctor said, as if reminding her, “Callidora’s son.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Black said as if she already knew. The best part about arrogant elite people of any species was that they were never willing to admit that there was something they didn't know – they were never going to correct him that he wasn't who he said he was in fear of looking a fool in front of their fine company. Honestly, it made his job loads easier.

“Sirius and I are in school together,” the Doctor said, using his poshest tone, “it’s a travesty he was put in Gryffindor, it really was, but I’ve been trying to take him under my wing – make sure he’s still spending his time around the right people, you know?”

Walburga Black looked quite pleased at this, indeed. “As you should,” she said, “Sirius has a lot to learn about his place. Sirius!” She called to her son, “Stay here and talk to your cousin.”

She stepped away to continue to mingle, leaving the Doctor and Sirius to chat amongst themselves.

“Doctor?” Sirius whispered the moment his mother was out of earshot.

“Yeah, I’m here! Isn’t it brilliant – figured you’d be bored, thought I’d stop by and make sure everything’s all right.”

“How did you even –” He balked a second, as if just now processing prior information, “Hold on, Horologium Black?”

“Oh, yeah, picked it myself seeing as you were going on about your family having astrological names –”

“What the actual hell, Doctor.”

“No need to swear, I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Do you have any idea what they’ll do if they catch you?”

“Catch me?” The Doctor looked aghast, “I’m an invited guest, a valued member of the Black family, who would dare insinuate I am not?”

Sirius took a moment to laugh in total shock and disbelief before wheezing out, “I can’t believe you actually snuck in here!”

The Doctor grinned, “And I’ve got a plan to get you out.”

Sirius blinked, “What?”

“Your mum thinks I’m a family member – a well-respected family member who’s a good influence on you.”

“Right?”

“What if I can convince her to let you come stay with me?”

Sirius shook his head, the defeat returning to his posture, “Mum will want to talk to your parents first.”

“That would be a problem,” The Doctor agreed. “Think she’d take a written note, or would that be too non-magical for her?”

Sirius shrugged, “Probably. She likes you enough, so I doubt she’d check. But you don’t have a written note.”

The Doctor gave a wicked grin, pulling out the psychic paper from his breast pocket, “Don’t I?”

Sirius gaped at him, “How did you – did you seriously forge a note? Bloody brilliant, that is!”

“Psychic paper, lets people see what I want them to.”

“Hold on,” Sirius suddenly said, “Your mum is supposed to be at the wedding, isn’t she? Won’t my mum try to talk to her?”

“Oh, no, she and her husband were called in on very important Ministry business, I expect they’ll be busy for the next – oh, seven hours?”

“You’re insane!”

“But you’re right,” the Doctor agreed, “If she sends Callidora Black a letter, that could be a problem…”

“Just give it up, Doctor,” Sirius said glumly, “You shouldn’t even be here. I already tried to convince mum to let me stay with the Potters. She said absolutely not. Maybe the Pettigrews, but even that I doubt…”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor said, “I’ll tell your mum that I’m staying with Peter too.”

“But she’ll definitely check with Peter’s mum.”

“Then I’ll have to convince Peter’s mum to let me stay with them.”

Sirius looked at him. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I really am.”

A smile grew on Sirius’s face, “I’m glad you came, Doctor.” 

“See,” the Doctor grinned, playfully elbowing the boy, “Little sparkle of hope.”

They had to sit through the ceremony first – Sirius had soon been pulled away to get ready, as he was one of the groomsmen.

It was a fascinating watch, mostly because it wasn’t all that unlike muggle weddings. Even the vows, whilst incorporating magic, remained of a similar note.

Bellatrix was preening the entire ceremony, her hair pushed up in large curls. Beside her, Narcissa, who was one of the bridesmaids, had dyed her hair blond to match that of her current boyfriend, Lucius Malfoy.

But when all was said and done and the reception began, the Doctor and Sirius made a B-line for where Peter and his mum were standing, chatting with a few fellow family members.

“Sirius!” Peter beamed, “Doc – er, John –”

“Hiya, Peter, Mrs. Pettigrew,” the Doctor said politely.

Sirius also mumbled his niceties.

“Hello Sirius, and…John, was it?”

“Horologium,” the Doctor corrected, “Peter can’t remember it, so he calls me John for short.”

“Peter,” Mrs. Pettigrew scolded her son.

“I really don’t mind,” the Doctor promised quickly.

Mrs. Pettigrew shot another look at her son, who shrank into his dress robes at the look, before returning her eyes to the Doctor, “Well, I’ll leave you boys to talk, then –”

“Actually, we wanted to talk to you,” the Doctor said, “See, Peter mentioned wanting to invite us over for summer break.”

“Oh, yes, he did mention. But we’d have to talk to your parents first –”

“My mum couldn’t actually make it,” the Doctor said, holding up the psychic paper, “But she wrote a note.”

Mrs. Pettigrew examined the note, “I see. Well, I suppose…Sirius, would you be joining us as well?”

“I’d have to ask my mum!” Sirius said, looking around for her.

Walburga Black was hesitant to let Sirius stay with the Pettigrews, but once she’d heard that Horologium Black was staying there as well – well, she was a lot more lenient.

Peter took the Doctor and Sirius over to James’s house the moment they got back, where they met Mr. and Mrs. Potter. As it turned out, they were quite nice, indeed and immediately invited the boys in for snacks and called James down from his room.

“So all we’ve got left is Remus,” James said, biting into another pumpkin pasty.

“I had a friend check on him at the children’s home,” the Doctor said, “He seems all right, but it’s certainly not ideal.”

“I didn’t know you had friends other than us.” James said.

“Oi!” 

“I’ve already sent him an owl,” Sirius said, grinning.

“So have I!” Peter piped up.

James nodded, “I have too. Think we should try to send him another?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” the Doctor supposed.

“I bet I could get my mum to send his matron a letter if he needs.”

They spent the next hour writing letters for Remus, all attaching them to the same owl and hoping she would get where she needed to be – the Doctor had tried to verbally give her the address, but she’d been rather insulted and insisted that she knew where to go.

After that, James had dragged them all outside to play on brooms – he was determined for all five of them to be on the Quidditch team in the upcoming year, even if there weren’t enough available spots.

The Doctor didn’t expect to enjoy staying with the Potters – yes, despite their arrangement, the Doctor and Sirius spent far more nights at James’s than they ever did at Peter’s, though Peter would often join them. But the Potters were a very kind family. The Doctor slept very seldomly throughout the summer break, but on the occasions that he did, no one mentioned the nightmares he had – he knew they knew about them, as Mr. and Mrs. Potter would always give him a double portion at breakfast and send him meaningful looks. James had probably told his parents not to bring it up, but he appreciated it nonetheless. And, indeed, he found himself surprisingly comfortable with the domestic nature of it all. Although he supposed that, of all his regenerations to go native, it wasn’t the biggest shock that this was the one who adapted best.

It was August when the boys were taken to London to pick up school supplies. They’d been hoping that Remus would join them, but Remus had never replied to any of their letters – James’s owl promised that she’d gone to the right place, though admitted that he hadn’t even smiled when he received them.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to Diagon Alley,” James said as they headed towards a grubby-looking pub called The Leaky Cauldron.

“Didn’t even know it existed ‘til today,” The Doctor said cheerily.

Mrs. Potter looked down at him, poorly-disguised concern wrought across her face, “No one took you to Diagon Alley before school last year?”

“Nope,” the Doctor hummed pleasantly.

She and Mr. Potter exchanged a look. “Your parents never took you?”

“Nope,” the Doctor repeated.

“And the school never sent anyone to take you?”

“Nope.”

“Where’d you get your school supplies from, then?” Mr. Potter asked.

“Oh, I didn’t,” the Doctor said.

“You…didn’t?” Mrs. Potter looked at her son as if to verify.

“He’s just been borrowing our stuff,” James shrugged, “We don’t mind.”

“But…robes…”

“I’ve got loads of extras, it’s really not a bother,” Sirius agreed.

“Fleamont,” Mrs. Potter told her husband, “Why don’t you take James and Sirius in – I expect the Pettigrews will be waiting inside.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look with the Doctor.

“Come on, boys.” Mr. Potter escorted them out, leaving the Doctor alone with Mrs. Potter.

“John,” She said – neither she nor her husband had been willing to call the Doctor ‘Doctor’ despite his many attempts, “Do your parents…do they know you’re here?”

“I gave a note to Peter’s mum, didn’t I?”

“Yes…” Mrs. Potter said, sounding rather unconvinced, “For a Horologium Black.”

“Yep, that’s me.”

She shook her head. “I really don’t think it is, John.”

Bugger.

The Doctor shrugged, “Sirius’s mum seemed to think so – you can ask her.”

Mrs. Potter pursed her lips. “John, I don’t know how you’ve gotten yourself messed in the Black’s family business, but you should know that they’re a dangerous family – they’re not to be trifled with.”

“I know,” the Doctor said uncaringly.

“I don’t think your name is Horologium Black,” she went on, “Nor do I think it’s John Smith. Please, I have to ask you: Do your parents know where you are?”

The Doctor hesitated. He had a few choices here. He could say they did, but she’d likely want more proof than that – and if she didn’t believe his prior note, it was unlikely she’d believe another one. Another was to try to call up Jack again and have him pretend to be his dad – nope. Not an option. So he took the lesser of three evils.

“I don’t have parents, Mrs. Potter.”

She didn’t look…surprised per se. Frankly, she looked almost as if he’d just confirmed what she already knew.

“Who are you staying with, then? An aunt? A grandparent?”

The Doctor shook his head. “There’s no one left. And it’s not as if the magic world’s got a welfare system so…” He shrugged, allowing his sentence to trail.

“Oh, John,” She said, sounding heartbroken, “Shouldn’t you be in a home like Remus? It would be a lot safer than the streets. I’m sure Fleamont and I –”

The Doctor scoffed, “With all respect, I don’t need your help, Mrs. Potter. I’m just fine on my own – have been for a long time. I can take care of myself.”

She looked down at him, her lips pressed into a line. “The fact that you live that way makes me very sad.”

There was a sudden noise as the door behind them flung open.

“Peter!” Mrs. Potter scolded.

“Sorry! James and Sirius wanted to know if you were done yet!”

Once Mrs. Potter had shooed Peter off, she turned back to the Doctor again.

“I hope you know you’re always welcome in our home – Doctor, do you call yourself?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How about you give me your real name? Just so I can be sure no one’s looking for you.”

“I guarantee that no one is.”

“Well, you might be surprised –”

“There’s no one,” He promised firmly, “There is no one left. No estranged uncle or – or secret cousin or godfather I didn’t know about – they’re all gone.”

He was getting emotional. He couldn’t get emotional – not right now. He needed to pull himself together.

Mrs. Potter was looking at him. She was quiet for a moment, before finally nodding.

“Well, I think the boys are waiting for you, so why don’t we go explore the alley.”

The Doctor silently agreed, and they headed into The Leaky Cauldron.

The Leaky Cauldron undoubtedly had a perception filter around it, seeing how all the muggles’ eyes entirely glossed over it. Inside it was dark and shabby, a low buzz of chatter filling the room. Mrs. Potter showed the Doctor through the back door towards where the Pettigrews, Sirius, James, and Mr. Potter were waiting in a small, walled courtyard that was empty apart from a rubbish bin and a few weeds.

“Not much of a market,” the Doctor observed.

“Doctor!” James grinned as he noticed the Time Lord approach.

The Doctor smiled back, trying to show the others that he was fine, despite the thinly-veiled upset look on Mrs. Potter’s face as she pulled her husband aside.

Mrs. Pettigrew took out her wand and delicately tapped the wall three times with its point.

The brick she had touched quivered before, in the middle, a small hole appeared, growing wider and wider. It was mere moments before they were all stood facing an archway that led onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

The sun was shining brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring – Collapsible , hung a sign above them.

Hundreds of other shops surrounded them, selling all sorts – from owls to potion ingredients to, James’s favorite, Quidditch gear.

It wasn’t long before he was dragging the Doctor, Sirius, and Peter into Quality Quidditch Supplies, showing them each and every broom and explaining the differences between them.

They’d been there for a good three hours before they were forced out for lunch.

“Think we could go to a Muggle record shop before we leave?” Sirius begged James’s parents.

“You’re not leaving the alley, Sirius,” Mrs. Potter said for the hundredth time.

They spent all day in the magical market, the Potters even buying the four of them ice creams as the day got hot. It was clear that Mrs. Potter had told her husband everything, as now they both were looking at him with big sad eyes full of pity and offering to buy him anything he needed – from clothes to school supplies to any knick-knack he so much as made a passing glance towards.

He was beginning to wish he’d just asked Jack to pretend to be his dad.

By the time he returned to the Potter’s house, he had his own set of school supplies, robes, and a dozen books on various advanced magical topics – it seemed to make Mrs. Potter even more devastated to see that he was such a clever kid without the resources to excel – yet there was no good way to tell them that he had access to every library in the universe with one flip of a switch.

The summer was drawing to a close when Sirius got a package from his cousin Andromeda in Peter’s mailbox. After ravenously unwrapping it, he revealed the David Bowie album, The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and Spiders from Mars. It had a generally lukewarm reception, if the Doctor recalled correctly – or would do in this case, but it would become the singer’s breakthrough album and would transcend the genre. Though he didn’t mention this to Sirius.

“I wish Remus were here,” Sirius admitted as he set the record to play again, having touted it as his new favorite album, “He’d love this.”

It was just Sirius and the Doctor listening, as James had gotten bored with listening and dragged Peter out to play on their brooms.

“Think we should send him another letter?” The Doctor suggested.

Sirius shook his head, moving his things to retrieve a small envelope, handing it to him. “He sent me this yesterday.”

The handwriting was messy and difficult to decipher with words spelled wrong, but it was very clearly Remus’s writing:

Dere Sirius,

Pleas dont send me more letters. Can’t read them and matron getting anoyed by the owls.

See you on the train.

Remus

The Doctor handed the letter back.

“You said he’s okay, right?” Sirius asked, “You know that for sure?”

The Doctor hesitated, “Yes, for the most part he’s all right.”

That seemed to calm Sirius' frantic mind, if a bit.

They decided not to tell the other boys.

It wasn’t long before September strolled in and the Doctor found himself back at King’s Cross Station, now with a trolley full of belongings thanks to the Potters.

A second year couldn’t hurt, could it? And it’s not like that TARDIS was giving him that much of a choice.

Yeah, he just had to keep telling himself that.

Who knows, maybe they’d find that monster supposedly hidden in the school.

Chapter Text

When the Doctor first saw Remus again, the Time Lord had been sitting on the train, having just been escorted to King’s Cross Station by James and Peter’s parents.

James and Sirius were in the middle of a heated debate about which racing broom was best – Peter pitching in where he could – when the Doctor had taken a moment to glance out the window.

The first thing he noticed was that the boy’s head had been entirely buzzed, just like it had been at their first meeting. The second thing he noticed was that Remus appeared to be in a rather intense verbal skirmish with Severus Snape, who was looking rather disgusted at the boy, wrinkling his nose and curling his face. Remus, on the other hand, looked furious, his teeth clenched, his hands balled at his sides.

“Oi, Remus!”

It was then that the boy’s face broke out into a brilliant grin, waving back and, after casting a filthy look at Severus, hurried to the train, clutching his suitcase and pushing past other students.

“Lupin!” Peter exclaimed as Remus made his way in.

“Hiya lads,” Remus smiled, “How’s it been?”

“Should be asking you that,” the Doctor said, his voice light but carrying with it a layer of concern that Remus seemed to catch.

“Yeah, come on, mate, not one owl all summer?” James laughed, punching him in the arm.

Remus glanced at Sirius, furtively. Neither Sirius nor the Doctor had told the others about the owl Remus had sent.

“You know I’m practically a muggle over the holidays,” he replied, “Couldn’t even get into my trunk to do homework; they locked it up.”

He then looked at the quiet boy sitting beside Sirius on the train. He was younger than Sirius with the same deep blue eyes and long dark hair – the same unmistakable Black features – full lips and fine cheekbones.

Regulus Black was his name. The Doctor had seen him at the wedding, though paid little notice to him. Fortunately he’d not been introduced, meaning that he wouldn’t have to worry about his identity as Horologium Black being compromised. 

Regulus was sharp and much like his parents in many ways. He could tell by the look in Sirius’s eyes that the boy was hoping that by taking him under his wing, he could change him. Improve him. Keep him safe from his family’s influence. Sirius had already carved the way for a Black to be in another house – perhaps this meant Regulus could be too.

“This is Reg,” Sirius offhandedly introduced to Remus, “Say hello, Reggie.”

“It’s Regulus,” his brother replied indignantly, his high aristocratic voice full of irritation.

“My darling brother,” Sirius explained to Remus.

“Hi,” Remus said nervously, trying to offer a friendly hand.

Regulus looked down at his hand as if it were filthy and refused to take it.

Sirius slapped him around the head.

“Stop being such a little prick,” he snapped, “these are my friends.”

“I didn’t want to sit here,” Regulus replied. “You made me.”

“Oh, go on, piss off, then. Dunno why I bothered.”

Regulus stood up, stony face, and made his exit, slamming the door behind him.

“Wow, he really has that Black family charm,” James grinned.

Sirius shook his head despairing, propping a foot up on the bench opposite and leaning an elbow against the window pane. The whistle blew and the train began to pull out of the station.

“He’s indoctrinated,” the Doctor said, “The whole family is. But he’s young. Like Sirius, he can break out of it.”

“I shouldn’t have been gone all summer,” Sirius said self-loathingly.

“It’s not your fault, Sirius – you need to protect yourself as well.”

“Reckon he’ll be in Slytherin, then?” James asked.

“Probably,” Sirius said glumly, “He knows I won’t talk to him if he is. I’d rather he was in Hufflepuff.”

“Even if he is in Slytherin,” the Doctor said, “He needs your influence. No one’s truly evil – not really. Trust me, I know it feels like it is, but you’ve got to have faith that people can change. After all, you did.”

As the train began to gather speed out of London, Remus yanked open his deteriorating suitcase and pulled out his wand and one of his second-hand books. Pretending he was scratching his ear with his wand, he looked to be subtly trying to cast Letiuncula Magna.

“So what’s the plan for Quidditch?” The Doctor asked the others, trying to distract them. It seemed that Sirius caught on as well as he hurried to stand in front of Remus and pull his broom down from the luggage rack.

The Doctor also hadn’t missed the way Remus seemed to wince every time he moved. The Doctor made a mental note to make sure he went to the hospital wing as soon as they arrived.

The Doctor didn’t quite have confirmation on what his malady was, but he had an idea. It was actually Jack’s comment that had really pointed out to him – seriously, who names their kid Wolfy McWolf? Someone who’s tempting fate, that’s who.

He was broken from his thoughts as the trolley came around and James and Sirius pooled their pocket money to buy enough to feed half of Gryffindor house.

Sirius seemed to be the only one surprised when Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, letting out a sharp exhale of disbelief. The younger Black brother scurried over to join his peers, and Narcissa, who was now supporting a silver prefect badge as well as a new sleek platinum hairdo.

Severus patted Regulus on the back, sneering over at the Gryffindor table.

“What is his problem?” Peter sighed as the food finally appeared once the sorting had finished, “You’d think he’d get over a few stupid pranks.”

“We seriously hurt him,” the Doctor reminded them, “Of course he’s still upset about it.”

“More like he needs to get over Evans,” James said, ignoring the Doctor entirely, sounding uncharacteristically pensive. At everyone’s looks of confusion he said, “Oh come on, it’s obvious! Ol’ Snivellus is clearly madly in love with a certain carrot-topped Gryffindor,” he winked at Lily, who gave him a disgusted look and very obviously turned her back on him to continue her conversation with Marlene.

“So because we got the bird he fancies, he’s going to be a pain in the arse for the next six years?” Sirius replied disbelievingly.

“Exactly.” James confirmed, looking very proud of himself.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, “We haven’t got anything.”

“Tell him that.”

“No way,” Sirius decided, “No one could care that much about a girl.”

The Doctor snorted into his mashed potatoes, “Entire wars have been started over girls, Sirius.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“Welcome to mankind.”

The Doctor escorted Remus to the hospital wing as soon as the feast ended. No one dared to protest as he came up with an excuse about needing to ask a question about the effect of adding a strong anti-virulence alongside the antimycotic agent that would already be taken on Scrofungulus, seeing as the illness was found to be antimicrobial-resistant and Remus being the only one clever enough to take with him.

Remus didn’t really protest, and he seemed appreciative when the Doctor left as soon as dropping him off with no more than a “Good evening, Madam Pomfrey.”

When Remus returned to the dormitory that evening, through his exhaustion, he managed to send over a grateful look before Sirius dragged him over to his bed and began begging him to check out his newest album.

“Thank merlin you’re here,” James groaned from his own bed, where he was flipping through a Quidditch magazine, “He’s been banging on about that muggle singer all summer.”

“He’s not a muggle!” Sirius snapped, hands on his hips, “He has to be a wizard. Has to be! You should see the clothes he wears…”

The Doctor snorted, “I think he’s just gay, Sirius.”

“Oi! Don’t make fun of Bowie!”

“I’m not making fun of him,” the Doctor said, sounding confused. “He literally is a gay man.”

Sirius blinked. “He is?”

“Yep,” the Doctor hummed, looking at his bare wrist as if to check a watch that wasn’t there, “He came out this past January, if I recall correctly. Got a problem with that, Sirius?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, “Of course I don’t have a problem – it’s Bowie!”

“Are you gay, Doctor?” James asked, “Because I feel like that would explain a lot.”

“I suppose the technical term would be panromantic, if you’re asking,” the Doctor said casually, “I’m not really all that fussed about gender to be honest – Have a hard time keeping it straight.”

After a short stretch of silence, it was James who shrugged first, “I’ve got an uncle who’s gay. Mum hates his boyfriend, though I think that might just be because he’s Welsh.”

And with that, they moved on. Sirius enthusiastically showed Remus his new album and James and Peter went back to their chat about what they should do for the smaller boy’s birthday.

“Maybe he is a wizard,” Remus conceded dreamily as Lady Stardust drew to an end, “He’s not like a normal muggle.”

“Told you!” Sirius smirked triumphantly, “I’m going to get more, too. All of his albums.”

“T.Rex has a new one,” Remus said, “Slider.”

“Cool! I wish Mrs. Potter had let us leave Diagon Alley, I even got some muggle money from Gringotts.”

“What is Diagon Alley?” Remus asked.

“It’s a wizarding marketplace,” the Doctor explained over his book on magical creatures. “In London.”

“It’s brilliant,” Sirius promised, “So if you’ve never been, where did you get all your stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“School stuff,” Sirius said, “Your books, your robes…”

“Second hand, I think,” Remus replied, “Dumbledore sends them. Dunno how I get to a wizard street; I’m not allowed into London alone.”

“Next summer,” Sirius said firmly, “You have to come to James’s place and stay, we can take you to Diagon Alley, you’ll love it!”

“You know I can’t,” Remus said quietly, not making eye contact.

“We’ll sort it out,” Sirius said with confidence. “Talk to Dumbledore, McGonagall – the Minister for Magic, if we have to!”

Remus smiled, though it looked slightly forced. “Yeah, great. Thanks, Black.”

As the year commenced, the Doctor spent most of his time trying to convince James that neither he nor Remus wanted to be on the Quidditch team, instead electing to sit in the stalls and watch them play. They were all quite good, but James was very obviously the best of the three – his turns were smooth, his dives sharp, his grace unparalleled.

Sirius, on the other hand, was much showier. He didn’t lack James’s skill so much as his discipline. He would get bored easily – going fast when he wanted, but being more interested in looping and swerving dangerously than he was catching quaffles or repelling bludgers. He needed James to shout at him every few minutes to keep focused on the game.

Peter was competent, being much better after his summer of drills, but he was still quite slow over long distances and overly cautious. James decided that he’d probably be a better keeper than anything else.

“You’re acting as if you get to hand pick the whole team.” Sirius huffed as they headed back to the castle after practice.

“They ought to let me,” James shrugged, “I’m better than at least half the current team, and you’re better than both beaters. And I know tactics.”

“Theoretical knowledge is brilliant, James,” The Doctor said, “But in the heat of a game, it’s not so easy to think straight. There’s a reason experience is the best form of knowledge.”

“I hate it when you do this,” James groaned as they made their way into the school.

“Most people do, but that’s usually because I’m right.”

“Arrogant prick,” James grumbled under his breath.

“Oi! I heard that!”

James Potter was an only child. This, in some ways, explained why he was so arrogant and demanding. Sirius spoke about James’s parents as though they were perfect saints, and the Doctor quite liked them too, but they had clearly spoiled their perfect child rotten.

Remus, too, was an only child, though he’d grown up with a good number of boys in the home. Enough that he knew when to and not to share, and how to protect what he had with his life.

Peter had a sister who was a good deal older than he was and had already left Hogwarts. She’d been a Hufflepuff and neither Peter nor his parents spoke about her all that much. Apparently she’d gone off to study at a Muggle university, which to the prestigious magical family was the height of bad taste.

So perhaps that was why none of them really understood what was happening between the two Black brothers. But the Doctor did.

It was the morning after the sorting during breakfast, when Regulus had received a gift from his parents: a brand new eagle owl. It was his reward for getting into the ‘right house’ – something that had been found out when Severus gleefully read the letter aloud within earshot of the Gryffindor table. Sirius stared at his porridge, not raising to the bait, but the Doctor could see Regulus blushing hard, trying to snatch the letter away from Severus.

“Didn’t your parents confiscate your owl again?” Peter asked bluntly.

Sirius gave a sharp nod, “Said I can have it back when I remember my duty to the family and started acting like a ‘true Black.’ I don’t care, I don’t need an owl.”

“What exactly is your family duty again?” James mused loudly so that the cackling Slytherins could hear them, “Go ‘round with creeps like Snivellus and Mulciber? Marry your cousin?”

Sirius finally looked up at James, his expression an even split between grateful and mischievous.

“Oh yeah,” he replied conversationally, just as loud as James. Severus, Regulus, and most of the other Slytherins who’d just been laughing were now quiet, narrowing their eyes at the two Gryffindor boys. “Inbreeding and creeping are key aspects of my noble heritage. And picking on kids smaller than me, of course; cheating, lying, and cursing my way into power…”

“Well, mate, I’m sorry to break it to you,” James replied jovially, “but it doesn’t sound like you’re a Black at all.”

“Goodness,” Sirius’s hand flew to his face in mock surprise, “What on earth am I?”

“It’s obvious,” James shrugged, “You’re a Marauder.”

Sirius laughed, as did most of the Gryffindors sitting nearby.

The Doctor could see Severus’s hand reach for his wand, before Regulus nudged Snape with his elbow, muttering, It’s fine.

“Come on,” Severus sneered, “We’d better get away from all this filth if we want to keep our breakfast down.”

This only made Sirius and James laugh harder, and Severus swept from the room, followed by Mulciber and a new first year called Barty Crouch. Regulus held back, glancing nervously between his new friends and his brother. The new owl sat perched on his crooked elbow, surveying the scene with an imperious, condescending look.

The Doctor gave him an inviting smile and the boy edged towards Sirius.

“You can borrow it, if you want,” Regulus said quietly, “I never asked her to send me anything, but you know what she’s like.”

“Yeah,” Sirius snorted, “I know.”

They both looked at each other for a while.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Regulus eventually said, “You knew I’d end up in Slyth–”

“I don’t want your owl,” Sirius said stiffly, getting to his feet and looking right through his brother, “If I need to send a letter, I’ll borrow James’s.”

With that, he pushed past Regulus and made to leave. James, Remus, and Peter hurried to get up and follow.

“That was a nice gesture,” the Doctor promised Regulus quietly, “Sirius’s just upset. He’ll come around. You did the right thing.”

With that he hurried off to follow his friends, leaving Regulus looking pale, cold, and very conflicted.

The Doctor tried to convince Sirius to extend an olive branch after that, but he seemed completely unwilling, and the other Marauders seemed firm in their support of Sirius.

So it was the Doctor who took it upon himself to, when the opportunity was right and he caught Regulus alone, to try to encourage him to continue being kind to his brother with the promise that he’d come around.

However, the longer this went on, the less willing Regulus seemed to be.

As classes started, the Doctor was very proud to see Remus throwing himself into his studies, reading every piece of literature that fell into his hands, doing his homework as soon as it was set, and eagerly answering questions in class.

“Remus, you look a bit ill,” the Doctor voiced as the month came to an end.

“Yeah,” Remus said slowly, looking at him curiously, “I’ve been feeling a bit sick.”

In truth, the boy had never looked better – his eyes bright with excitement and his face split in an ear-to-ear grin for most of the month. But if the Doctor was right about Remus’s…ailment. He’d be heading to the hospital wing soon, and giving an excuse to his friends would be the easiest way to avoid questioning.

The Doctor, admittedly, made a bit of a show of dragging Remus to the hospital wing “because if you won’t admit something’s wrong, I will.”

As they made it into the hallway, Remus wriggled from his grasp, looking mildly panicked.

“You know, don’t you?” He finally said, as if trying to steel his nerves. “You know what's wrong with me.”

“I have my suspicions, but it’s your choice whether to tell me or not.”

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” he fervently promised, “I swear I won’t, you don’t have to do anything –”

“Remus,” the Doctor said calmly, “I’m not scared of you.”

“You’re…you’re not?”

The Doctor shook his head, “You didn’t choose this. You’re not a monster – trust me, I would know. You’re just a kid who’s scared of something that’s out of his control. There's nothing for me to be scared of."

Remus stared at him, as if unable to process the words.

“You’re really…” His mouth floundered for a second, “You’re really okay with everything?”

“And the others would be too,” the Doctor promised. “When you’re ready to tell them, I know that they will.”

The two boys stared at each other for a while.

"Thank you," Remus finally said as they reached the entrance to the hospital wing.

"No problem, Remus."

"I think your acting skills need work, though. I'm pretty sure the others just think you wanted an excuse to ask Madam Pomfrey about anti-fungal creams or whatever again.”

The Doctor regarded him impressively. “You knew what I was talking about?”

“I looked it up,” Remus admitted, his cheeks turning a bit pink, “I was curious.”

“Remus,” the Doctor beamed, “You’re a star.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Doctor.” Remus smiled, and disappeared into the hospital wing.

Perhaps everything would be all right.

Remus didn’t return until late Friday morning, three days after the full moon had ended.

He returned to the dormitory, looking exhausted and collapsed onto his bed.

“Madam Pomfrey told me to rest,” he explained to the Doctor, as he was the only person in the room, the other boys off practicing their flying.

The Doctor hummed in acknowledgement, pulling on the curtains to dim the room as Remus crawled beneath his covers.

They sat there for a long while, the only noise being the soft sound of turning pages.

“Lupin!” A sharp voice shattered the calm as Sirius ripped back the curtains, flooding the small space with light.

“Ugh, what?” Remus groaned, shielding his eyes.

“Sorry,” Sirius rubbed his arm nervously.

“What is it?” Remus repeated.

“Remus, I have to tell you something.”

They were quiet for a few long moments. Remus slouched back, too tired to sit up.

“Sirius,” the Doctor said, on his feet now, “What’s going on?”

“James knows,” Sirius finally blurted out, “James knows and wants us to confront you.”

Remus sat up abruptly. “He…he what? Knows what?”

“About your…you know.” He glanced at the Doctor nervously, “Where you go every month.”

Remus stared at him. “You…you knew?”

“I knew.”

“I also know,” the Doctor added helpfully.

“But James worked it out too, the lanky idiot, and now he’s decided we all need to confront you about it. I’m really sorry, I tried to get him off it, but you know how pig-headed he is.”

I should’ve been there, the Doctor cursed himself. He should’ve been there. He could’ve come up with something. Made some sort of excuse. But he’d decided to stay in. This was all his fault.

“It’s going to be okay,” the Doctor tried to promise.

“How?” Remus demanded, “Might as well start packing now.”

“No! Don’t,” Sirius begged, “Look, he wants to talk to you about it, he’s not going straight to Dumbledore or anything, doesn’t that mean something?”

But Remus had already gotten up, opened his trunk and began emptying things into it.

“Remus, it’s going to be okay,” The Doctor promised, “They’ll understand, they’re good people.”

“Just wait, okay?” Sirius pleaded, “Just wait and see what James says – he’s your friend. We’re marauders, all of us!”

He tried to grab for Remus’s shoulder, but Remus shoved him away, “That’s complete bollocks and you know it.  You two are the marauders, you and him. Me, Pete, and the Doc, we’re just your pet charity cases.” He seized his pajamas from the end of the bed and flung them into his trunk, “I’m not that much of an idiot, Black. I’m probably better off going where I belong.”

For the first time, Sirius looked entirely speechless.

“Just give them a chance, Remus,” the Doctor said calmly, moving between the two boys so that Sirius was shielded from view. He held out his hands, not being offended when Remus didn’t take them, “that’s all I’m asking. I’m not saying don’t be upset, I’m not saying don’t be ready to run, I’m not saying to trust them. I’m saying to just give them the opportunity to prove you wrong.”

He held his breath as Remus looked at him, emotions playing out across his eyes.

Finally, he took the Doctor’s hands. “Fine.”

Chapter Text

Remus sat fidgeting on his trunk as they waited for James. It took ages. Sirius had left the room to go find them, leaving just the Doctor and Remus alone in the dormitory.

“You’re not a monster, you know.” The Doctor said, finally breaking the silence.

Remus snorted, “Then what am I?”

“You’re clever,” the Doctor said, “You’re funny. You’re hard-working, you’re loyal and strong and empathetic, and I’ll tell you this, Remus,” He offered a gentle smile, “You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

“But I’m…”

“Better than me at Charms, I know. But it’s something I’m willing to overlook.”

Remus couldn’t help but to let out a burst of laughter.

When the laughter finally died down, he looked at the Doctor with an emotion that could only be described as amazement.

“You really don’t think I’m a monster, do you?”

“I’ve met monsters, Remus. You’re not one of them.”

They were left in silence once more.

Remus half-heartedly threw out the idea of going to lunch, but neither boy seemed all that hungry, and the Doctor thought it was best to avoid the chances of a public confrontation at all costs. It’s not that he didn’t trust James…It’s just that James was never one to show the best judgement in situations like these.

They all sat in silence for hours, no one being willing to speak, not even the Doctor.

It was just after the four o’clock bell rang that the Doctor could hear three sets of footsteps tramping up the stairs. Remus and the Doctor got to their feet as the door opened.

James entered first, looking very serious. Sirius followed, his expression inscrutable with no trace of the previous conversation’s emotion. Peter came in right behind them looking, as per usual, very uncomfortable and completely out of his depth.

“Hiya Remus,” James said straight away.

“Hi,” Remus replied.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Look mate, I’ll get right to it, okay?” James ran his fingers through his hair, swallowing nervously, “We’ve noticed…well, we couldn’t not notice that you’re away a lot, in the hospital wing. Every month, pretty much.”

Peter was nodding sympathetically behind him.

“Okay,” Remus said sullenly.

“Yeah,” James nodded, as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation. “Every month…around the full moon.”

He let it hang in the air.

The Doctor wanted to speak, but even he knew it wasn’t his place.

“Just say it, James,” Remus said, growing impatient with dancing around the issue.

“Areyouawerewolf?” It all came out in a rush, and James’s gaze finally dropped, as if he was embarrassed to ask.

Remus glanced from James to Sirius’s piercing gaze of determination, to Peter who was gnawing at his bottom lip, eyes darting between Remus and James. Finally, his eyes landed on the Doctor, who gave him his most encouraging smile.

“Yeah,” Remus finally said, jutting his chin forward, as if daring James to strike him.

James exhaled.

“Right.”

Remus looked almost more affronted. “That’s it?”

“Yes – I mean no – I mean…bloody hell…” James ran his hands through his hair again, turning to the others for support, looking helpless.

“It’s okay,” Remus said, his voice hard. “I’m off. Just let me go and tell McGonagall.”

“Off?” James asked. “Off where?”

“Back to St. Edmund’s, I s’pose,” Remus said obviously.

“You can’t leave Hogwarts!” James looked even more worried now, his glasses having slid down his nose without his notice.

“I can’t stay if everyone knows,” Remus explained as calmly as he could.

“We won’t tell anyone!” Peter squeaked suddenly.

Remus looked at him in surprise, then at Sirius, then at James, who was nodding now.

“We won’t,” he confirmed.

Remus shook his head. “This isn’t a game. ‘Keep the secret,’ or whatever. If other people find out, I will have to leave. It could be worse than that, they might…” He couldn’t seem to bring himself to finish.

“We won’t let it happen.” Sirius finally spoke, stepping tentatively forward. “Will we?”

He turned to Peter and James, who both looked very serious and very frightened, but both shook their heads firmly.

Remus glanced over at the Doctor.

“Give them the opportunity,” he encouraged.

The boy hesitated.

“One month,” he finally said. “I’ll stay for one month.”

Remus somewhat attached himself to the Doctor in the following days, his relationship with the other marauders a bit tense and filled with a shyness that hadn’t reared its head since the beginning of term the year prior.

“They think I’m a monster,” Remus admitted to the Doctor one night, “They think I’m going to murder them in their beds. They think I’m evil.”

“They don’t,” the Doctor promised, “They might be confused, might be a bit afraid, but they know you’re not a monster.”

He looked up at him, “Aren’t I?”

“You’re not,” the Doctor assured him, “trust me, I would know.”

His reassurances didn’t seem to help much.

Interestingly enough, it was Severus Snape who reunited the Marauders again.

It was, of course, during a Potions class. This term, they were embarking upon ‘pleasant dream’ potions, which would take some weeks to brew (the Doctor had recommended a way to decrease the time it would require to brew, but Professor Slughorn had decided not to implement it across the entire class, instead having him work on it individually).

“You’ll need to come back regularly in the evenings to check on your potions’ progress,” Professor Slughorn explained, “I shall be marking you on your persistence and attentiveness. To that end, I think it’s best if you all pair up so that you can take it in turns.”

There was a general flurry and chatter as students began to pick their partners. Remus, as per usual, paired up with Peter, and the Doctor could see James and Sirius teaming up across the room.

“No, no, I’ve learnt my lesson,” Professor Slughorn raised his voice above the commotion, giving the marauders a severe look, “You may not choose the same partners you had last year. In fact,” he continued, “I think I shall assign the partners…”

Fortunately, Professor Slughorn was tactful enough not to put any of the Marauders with Severus, though Peter ended up with Mulciber, who towered over him, twice his size. The professor split up Mary and Marlene, who were just as joined at the hip as James and Sirius were, placing them with the boys.

“I want Sirius!” Mary squealed. Marlene nudged her and they dissolved into giggles. Sirius looked horrified, James looked put out – he ran his hands through his hair and straightened his back slightly.

Remus had been assigned to Lily Evans, which he didn’t look all that pleased about.

“Hi Remus, are you feeling better?” Lily was smiling at Remus nervously.

“Better keep well back, Lily,” Severus hissed from the desk he was sharing with a Slytherin girl whose name the Doctor couldn’t quite remember, “Loony Lupin might be contagious.”

“Shut it, Snivellus,” Remus muttered in response before the Doctor could say anything, sending him a warning look.

“Yes, please be quiet, Sev,” Lily said, giving him a hard look.

“I’m only trying to help,” the greasy haired boy replied, lips curling, “We don’t want anyone else coming down with Lupin’s mysterious ailment, do we? Let me know if you need anything, Lily.”

“Remus and I are quite capable of completing the assignment ourselves, thank you.” She snapped, tossing her red mane of curls and opening her textbook with an elaborate flourish. She looked at Remus, “We need eight rats tails, finely diced. Do you want to do that, or shall I?”

The Doctor smiled to himself and turned back to his own work.

However, it was only a few minutes before more commotion grabbed his attention.

“Of course, ‘Loony Lupin’ is quite apt,” Severus said to the girl he was working with, “Because he really is utterly mad – I’ve seen him, wandering around the castle on his own, lurking in dark corners. You may recall he actually attacked me last year. He’s clearly dangerous, I don’t know why Dumbledore allows it.”

The Doctor could see Remus gripping his wand, pointing it at Severus.

“Leave it alone,” the Doctor hissed over to Remus before addressing Severus a little more firmly, “Severus, don’t you have your own potion to focus on?”

Severus sneered, but turned back to his potion.

“Sorry about him,” Lily leaned over towards the Doctor, sounding quite irritated herself, “He’s having a bad time at home and blames it on everyone else.”

The Doctor hummed sympathetically as everyone returned to their work.

“Eurgh! Look at him!” The Doctor looked over a few minutes later as Severus’s nasty, cloying voice rang out loud enough for half the class to hear now, “What sort of disease does that?”

Remus had rolled up his sleeves to stir, revealing the harsh scratches that covered his arms, many of them scarred down, though plenty still red and raw. 

The boy hurriedly yanked down his robes to cover the marks, but the damage had already been done.

It was Lily, who heroically jumped into action.

“Shut up, Severus!” She barked, “Why do you have to be so horrid?”

“Lily, just look!”

“Mind your own business!”

Remus was looking like he wished the ground would swallow him whole. But the Doctor wasn’t the only Marauder who’d heard.

“Oi, Snivellus, what are you saying about our mate?” James demanded from a few desks over.

“Oh, stay out of this, Potter!” Lily groaned, “You’ll only make it worse!”

“Silence, please!” Professor Slughorn boomed, “You’re not first years anymore, I should think you’re able to concentrate on the task at hand.”

Everyone fell quiet. Remus was gripping the stirrer so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

He could hear Remus and Lily continue to whisper conspiratorially, until he could finally make out the words,

“Evans, what are they?”

The Doctor glanced over to see Lily subtly showing Remus something in her hand.

“Are those concentrated beetle husks?” The Doctor whispered, moving a bit closer towards the duo, “If I didn’t know better, Lily, I’d suggest that you were trying to sabotage someone’s potion.”

Lily flashed him a wicked grin, “Then it’s a good thing you’re not going to tell, isn’t it?”

“Wait,” Remus said, staring at Lily awestruck, “But you’re such a…”

“Teacher’s pet? Swot? Good-goody?” Her smile widened, showing all of her neat white teeth. “Some of us know how not to get caught.”

“Mr. Smith! Eyes on your own potion!”

The Doctor grinned sheepishly at Professor Slughorn and returned to his potion, giving Lily and Remus a mischievous grin to convey his approval.

They exchanged a few more whispers, before Lily called out, “Oi, Potter!”

James’s head snapped up, his glasses foggy from the steam emanating from his cauldron. Whilst everyone looked her and James’s way, then towards the professor as he scolded her, the Doctor was watching Remus who, in a pretend-yawn, stretched his arms out, his right hand just reaching over Severus’s cauldron, dropping the pellets in.

“Sorry professor,” Lily said sweetly, turning back to her work.

It was then that Lily was forced to grab Remus and pull him back from Severus’s cauldron as it exploded behind them, a magnificent mass of foaming purple bubbles spilling over the brim all over Severus and his partner’s clothes.

The whole class began to laugh as Severus turned white with rage, his nostrils flaring.

“Oh dear!” Professor Slughorn bustled over, “A bit overeager with the beetle husks, eh Severus?”

“It wasn’t me!” Severus fumed, purple bubbles settling in his hair, “He did something!” He pointed at Remus, who winced, “He must have!”

“Did you see Mr. Lupin tamper with your potion?” Professor Slughorn asked skeptically.

“No, but…”

“Come now boy,” the professor laughed, throwing him a green tea towel, “We all make mistakes – even you!”

Severus spluttered incoherently, and Lily was clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and she wasn’t the only one. Almost every student in the class was stifling laughter of some kind – some more successfully than others. Even Lily was forced to turn around, her shoulders shaking in slight hysterics.

After the lesson, James, Sirius, and Peter piled onto Remus in the hallway, whooping and cheering.

“You did it, didn’t you!”

“Brilliant!”

“How did you do it? You’re rubbish at potions!”

“Did the Doctor help?”

Remus only grinned back at them, neither confirming nor denying. The other boys looked at the Doctor, who only shrugged innocently, as if to insist he had nothing to do with it.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Sirius proclaimed brightly, throwing an arm around James and another around Remus, “He is a Marauder!”

After the initial ice had been broken, the questions came non-stop for Remus. That evening, after dinner, all five boys sat on Remus’s bed.

“When did it happen?”

“Does Dumbledore know?”

“Have you ever, y’know, attacked anyone?”

“What’s it like?”

“Where do you go when it happens?”

Remus gnawed at his bottom lip. He glanced at the Doctor for reassurance. He smiled at him gently, squeezing his shoulder in an abnormally paternal way.

“I was five years old when it happened,” he admitted quietly, “I don’t really remember much before that. Yeah, Dumbledore knows. I don’t think I’ve ever hurt anyone. I think I’d probably know if I did.”

“So when you turn, you can remember what it’s like?” Sirius asked eagerly, “Being a wolf.”

“Um…not really?” Remus said, thinking hard. “Maybe I can remember feeling stuff, but I don’t think I have a human brain while I’m like that. It’s more like a really bad dream.”

“Fascinating,” the Doctor said, resisting the temptation to scan Remus with the Sonic Screwdriver, “I’ve always had my theories – met a few different kinds of lycanthropes. From the sound of it, I’d say you’re a Lupine Wavelength Haemovariform, though I suppose I can never be too sure.”

“Wait, there are different types?” Remus asked.

The Doctor hummed in affirmation, “Werelox, Loups-Garoux, Vulpanan,” He shrugged, “I’ve met a good few.”

“You’ve lived such a weird life, mate.” James said, shaking his head.

“I just…” Peter finally said, “I just always thought werewolves were more, I dunno, scary?”

“You don’t think Remus is scary?” Doctor said in mock-aghast, pinching Remus’s cheek, “How could you possibly not be utterly terrified by this face?”

Remus scowled at him as he let go, but he couldn’t resist the smile that grew on his face.

“Utterly bewildering,” Sirius agreed good-naturedly.

Remus shook his head in disbelief, though he looked significantly more comfortable now.

“So is that what happened to your dad?” Sirius asked abruptly, “Did he get killed by the werewolf that bit you?”

“No,” Remus said, all the discomfort returning, “My dad, he…uh…well, he killed himself. After I was bitten, so I s’pose it was because of me. My mother – you know, she’s a muggle, I think it was probably a bit much for her, so she packed me off to St. Edmund’s.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Have you ever met –” Sirius began, but James gave him a sharp look.

“That’s enough, Black. Leave him alone.”

The other three boys eventually split off to start their homework.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” The Doctor told Remus.

“Sure feels like it.”

“I know it does,” the Doctor said, “But you were five years old. In what world is it a five year old’s fault for their father’s death?”

Remus fiddled his fingers, refusing to meet the Doctor's eye.

“And I know I can’t convince you, Remus,” the Doctor went on, “But I can tell you that I, with both my hearts, know that it wasn’t.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, humour returning to his eyes, “Both your hearts?”

“Er, an expression. Both of one. Of my singular human heart.”

“Right.” He shook his head, pulling out his homework, “Bloody nutter.”

It wasn’t long before James finally stood up, stretched, and proclaimed that he was going on a run around the grounds before it got dark. Quidditch trials were coming up and he was becoming increasingly obsessed with fitness and endurance by the day. He’d tried getting Peter, Sirius, and the Doctor to join him, but all of them shoved him off.

“I’ve told him I’m not even trying out,” Peter muttered as James left.

The Doctor hummed in agreement. He had no intentions of being on the sports team either.

“I think I probably will,” Sirius said casually, “They need a beater anyway.”

Homework eventually was cast aside in favour of a particularly intense game of exploding snap between the four of them, with a record spinning on its needle – The Beatles, because Peter had pleaded for a break from Bowie.

The Doctor had Sirius's upcoming birthday gift to work on, so he turned in early to work behind his curtains, the other boys following suit after an emotionally exhausting day. It was after lights out that the Doctor could hear shuffling from Sirius’s bed, before the tell-tale creak of the floorboards indicating that Sirius was paying James a visit. He could hear the curtains rustle, and low whispering, before a sudden unnatural voice of sound, meaning that someone had cast a silencing spell.

It was perhaps ten minutes later that the Doctor heard the silencing spell being recalled, the curtains rustle again, and the soft sound of Sirius padding back across the room.

The footsteps came closer, however, and the Doctor quickly stowed his project as the curtains of his own bed cracked open. Sirius’s long, pale face peered in on him.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Course,” the Doctor gestured, shifting over so there was more room on the bed.

“Sonoro Quiescis,” Sirius whispered, recasting the silencing spell.

He then settled down, glancing over at the book sitting beside the Doctor. It was a particularly interesting read on the history of werewolves in magical society.

“Doing your research?” He asked, much more seriously than normal.

“Yep,” the Doctor confirmed, “Some of these laws are bloody awful, you know. I mean, a national registration is bad enough – Rassilon knows I’ve seen things of the sort, but the employment laws, the travel restrictions – it’s horrific.”

Sirius nodded grimly. “No one can know, can they? I mean, being expelled, it’ll be the least of his problems, won’t it?”

“The least,” the Doctor confirmed. “I could probably try to wipe the registry, but that won't get rid of the legislation –"

“Doctor,” Sirius cut in, “Do you reckon I upset Remus by talking about his dad?”

The Doctor frowned, “I can’t be sure, but I’d say he seemed pretty comfortable talking about it.”

“James thinks I did,” Sirius said. “I…I want to ask him about his scars and things, but I don’t want to…I dunno, scare him away, I guess.”

The Doctor paused for a moment, considering this. “I think Remus has far more reason to be afraid of you than you do of him,” he said bluntly before deciding, “But I think showing him that you’re not scared could be a step in the right direction.”

“So you think I should?”

“I think you should maybe show him your scars first.”

Sirius hesitated. “He already knows about mine.”

“Just like you do his,” the Doctor shrugged before placing a hand on Sirius’s arm, “I know it’s scary and I know it’s vulnerable, but it is for him too. Put some trust in him.”

“I do trust him,” Sirius said firmly.

“Then show him that.”

Sirius nodded, moving towards the edge of the bed before looking back, “Thanks.”

“No problem, Sirius.”

“Oh, and Doctor?”

The Doctor tilted his head slightly in curiosity, “Yes?”

“I hope one day you’ll trust us too.”

He dispelled the silencing spell and slipped out of the Doctor’s curtains, making his way towards Remus’s bed.

There was the sound of faint whispering, before the spell was cast again, and the Doctor was left in silence.

He didn’t sleep much that night.

Chapter Text

“So what exactly are we doing here?” James whispered, sounding amused.

“And why did we have to bring the stupid cloak?” Sirius added, slightly muffled under the fabric, “It’s hours until curfew.”

“I’m hot,” Peter whined.

“I wonder if I could make a portable washing machine out of kitchenware,” the Doctor pondered aloud.

“Shut up, all of you,” Remus commanded, “I’m trying to concentrate.

“Concentrate on wha–ouch!”

Sirius was quickly cut off as Remus kicked him in the shin.

“I said shut up.”

“Bloody hell, all right then,” Sirius muttered, but he was quiet after that.

Remus sniffed deeply as they walked, as if recognizing some sort of smell. The Doctor could feel a change in the air, like an oddity in the airflow, but he couldn’t quite make out any sort of smell.

“Have you brought us here to meet your new girlfriend, Lupin?” James asked, smirking as Remus stared down the statue of the one-eyed witch, which seemed to be the center of the air disturbance.

“Why’d you keep sniffing like that?” Sirius whined, “I don’t want to be this close to you if you’re getting a cold.”

“You can smell something, can’t you, Remus?” the Doctor said before explaining, “Even in human forms, Lupine Wavelength Haemovariforms, they’ve got a brilliant sense of smell.”

“Wait, none of you can smell it?” Reums asked.

When all the Marauders affirmed the negative, the Doctor prompted, “What is it, Remus? What do you smell?”

“Chocolate,” he said quietly, “It’s definitely the smell of chocolate.”

“Chocolate? Where?” Peter suddenly perked up.

“It’s coming from the statue,” Remus said, reaching out and touching the stone carefully through the cloak.

“What? Reckon the old bint’s hump is packed with sweets or something?” Sirius was starting to sound bored and irritable.

“No,” Remus said, “I reckon it’s one of those secret passages from that book of yours.”

“Really?” Now Sirius was paying attention. “Think it leads to the kitchens?”

It was Peter who shook his head, “The kitchens are on the ground floor – a Hufflepuff told me.”

“So how do we get in?”

“Leave that to me.” The Doctor pulled out the Sonic Screwdriver and began probing the statue. The other boys groaned.

“Doesn’t that thing have a quieter setting?”

“It’s sonic,” the Doctor said, “Sonic means sound. Don’t like it, use something else.”

“Out of the way, boys,” James said, pulling out his wand. “Alohomora’s for locks, so I think… Dissendium!” He tapped his wand on the witch’s hump.

Immediately, the hump opened, sliding away leaving a gap easily big enough for them to file inside, one at a time.

“Lumos!” they all whispered in unison and the passage erupted in light as the hump closed behind them.

“Right, then,” The Doctor looked back to grin at the others, “Allons-y!”

It was a long walk down a flight of cold stone stairs, through a tunnel that was earthy and damp. But as they walked, the smell of chocolate grew strong enough until every one of the Marauders could smell it.

When they finally reached the end, there was another staircase that led towards a wooden trap door. After a small exchange, they quickly decided that the Doctor should go first. If anyone could talk themselves out of trouble, it was the Doctor.

He pushed the trapdoor open, pulling himself up so that his entire torso made it through. They were in a cellar of some kind that was full of wooden crates and boxes. The smell of confectionery was now almost overwhelming.

“We’re in a sweet’s shop,” the Doctor realized.

“What?” James shoved the Doctor up the rest of the way before climbing up himself and saying, “I don’t believe it!”

“Where are we?” Sirius asked as he climbed out too, followed close behind by Peter and Remus.

“I think we’re actually in Hogsmeade!” James said excitedly, “This has got to be the storeroom at Honeydukes!”

“The sweetshop?” Remus recalled as Sirius ripped open a box which looked to contain at least five hundred boxes of chocolate frogs.

The Doctor had heard of Hogsmeade before from James, Sirius, and Peter, who had all visited on family holidays and the like. It was one of the only entirely magical villages in Britain. The older students were allowed to go on specific weekends, and often brought back paper bags bulging with sweets from Honeydukes.

They spent a good hour there exploring the shop. They chose a little bit of everything, Remus directing them being the only two with any proper shoplifting experience – it wasn’t that the Doctor didn’t have experience stealing things, it was more that he wasn’t used to being around for the consequences of it all. Although, James seemed to think that no one noticed as he slipped a bag of sickles and galleons from his robes and left it on the counter as they were leaving.

The Marauders returned to the Gryffindor common room with their pockets heavy and massive grins on their faces. A prefect took points from all of them for missing curfew – the Doctor felt a pang in his hearts as he remembered that it wasn’t Frank who’d be standing at that door. He might’ve given them a scolding, but he wouldn’t have been mad, not really.

When they all lay in bed hours later, Sirius called out,

“That’s definitely going on the map.”

“I’ve had enough,” Peter said grimly, “I really have.”

“I know you have,” Remus said, trying to placate him.

“They’ve dragged us into all sorts of stuff, got us detentions – and I’ve never complained.”

“Well, you did a bit.” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I did sometimes, but I always did as James said. And Sirius, even though he’s horrible to me.”

“Sirius is horrible to everyone,” Remus said, sounding bored.

“Well this time I’ve definitely had enough. They’ve gone too far.”

“Come on, Peter!” The Doctor grinned, full of morning energy, “We’re being supportive!”

“It’s five in the morning!”

“And you lot went to bed at eight for this.”

“What time did you go to bed, Doctor?” Remus asked, “Because you either got way too much sleep, or way too little.”

The three of them were huddled in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. James and Sirius were presumably still in the changing rooms with the rest of the Gryffindors who hoped to make the team.

They’d been there for at least an hour already – too early even for breakfast, because James was insistent that they practice beforehand. They could’ve said no and slept in instead, letting the other two go early if they wanted – the Doctor did have a birthday gift to get finished – but James was…rather persuasive, and at the end of the day, all three of them wanted to support their friends. Which is how they found themselves at the pitch regardless.

“Oh, hello John,” Lily Evans came up the stairs, smiling at them tiredly, “Remus, Peter.”

“Morning, Lily!” The Doctor chirped.

“Morning.” Remus nodded.

“Lo,” Peter yawned.

“Chilly, isn’t it! Here to watch the Quidditch trials?”

“Be strange if we were here for any other reason.”

“Should have known James would be having a go,” Lily said wearily. James’s Quidditch fascination had not been restricted to the Marauders’ dorm room – everyone who’d ever met him knew how keen he was.

“Sirius too,” The Doctor said pleasantly. “You here to watch anyone in particular?”

“Well, never one without the other,” Lily said, “And yes – Marlene, she’s going for beater.” She pointed at the far end of the pitch, where the Gryffindor Quidditch team and their new applicants were gathering by the goal posts. The Doctor could just make out Marlene McKinnon’s pale blonde ponytail.

“But that’s the position Siri–” Peter started, but Remus kicked him quietly in the leg.

“Remus, can you check on the ‘pleasant dream’ potion tonight?” Lily asked, looking at them, bemused, “I’m really behind on my astronomy and I wanted to talk to Professor Aster.”

“Can’t,” Remus replied, leaning forward on his elbows, “We’ve got detention.”

“Oh. What for?”

“Levitating all the tables and chairs in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.” Peter supplied.

“Really?” Lily looked surprised. “I didn’t hear about that.”

“That’s because we haven’t done it yet,” the Doctor said cheerily – another good-natured and harmless prank – ”We’re going to do it later while everyone’s at lunch, but we know they’ll know it was us and we’ll get the detention anyway.”

Lily tutted, “What did I say about getting caught, Lupin?”

Remus shrugged, smiling back. It seemed he didn’t mind Lily all that much anymore. 

Perhaps it was because she was much more pleasant without Severus looming about.

There was finally movement on the pitch as all the hopefuls were put through their paces. And James could not fail to impress: he was on top form that day, swooping and diving and twisting in mid-air as if it were nothing.

The Doctor could hear Lily’s sharp intake of breath as James attempted a particularly tight turn.

“Does he have to show off like that?” She said nervously, “He’ll get himself killed.”

“He won’t,” Peter said, “I’ve known him since we were five years old and he’s never even fallen off his broom. Not once.”

“No wonder he thinks he’s untouchable.” Lily muttered.

The rest of the would-be chasers took their turns, but it was obvious that James was the best choice by far. Next it was the beaters – Sirius, Marlene, and a burly fifth year were handed their bats and took to the sky along with six bludgers. It was horrible, really – The brutal red cannonballs shooting towards the childrens’ heads and body. Sirius deftly avoided the bludgers and knocked a few out of the way, but Marlene was unstoppable. She flew circles around her competition, swinging her bat with machine precision and sending the bludgers flying across the pitch every time.

“She’s brilliant!” The Doctor commented to Lily.

“Her brother plays for the Cannons,” Lily explained, looking smug on Marlene’s behalf, “She’s been training with him all summer.”

“Sirius has been too,” Peter said, sounding quite defensive, “He and James were at it constantly, weren’t they, Remus?”

The Doctor shot Peter a look and the boy shrunk back, only now remembering that Remus hadn’t been there that summer.

“Here they come!” Lily jumped up and ran down the steps to meet her friend, the Doctor close behind, Remus and Peter dragging along, looking ready to be back inside.

“I got in!” Marlene was grinning. She and Lily hugged.

James looked incredibly pleased with himself too, his hair sticking up wildly from the wind, his glasses slightly askew. Still, he wasn’t smiling as much as Marlene, obviously trying to subdue himself for Sirius’s sake. Sirius had a face like thunder, Peter even taking a full step back just at the sight of him.

“Yeah, well done, McKinnon,” Sirius said gruffly, looking at the ground.

“Thanks…er…you were really good too, Sirius.” She said nervously.

He grunted, still not looking up.

The Doctor offered his congratulations to Marlene before gently leading the other Marauders away from the commotion.

“See you next week for first practice?” James called to Marlene as she and Lily made their way back to the castle.

“Yeah, great!” She smiled at him brightly, “See you, Potter!”

Sirius looked as though someone had kicked his dog.

“You’ll get in next year,” the Doctor said, trying to comfort his friend.

“Yeah.”

“You could have been on the reserve team if you wanted,” James said, “Singh did offer.”

“I know. I don’t want to be on the bench.”

“Come on, let’s go to breakfast,” the Doctor encouraged, making a point to tap his arm gently.

Sirius sighed deeply in acceptance. Peter nodded enthusiastically.

“Well done, James,” Remus said rather pointedly, looking at Sirius as he said it, “You were amazing, congratulations.”

“Cheers, Lupin,” James grinned, his eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled and his face lit up.

“Yeah,” Peter said, punching him on the arm, “Nice one, Potter.”

“Thanks!”

They walked back to the castle together quietly. Sirius still wasn’t speaking.

“Ardal told me he was dropping out next year to focus on his NEWTs,” James tried to encourage, “So his spot’ll be open next year if you want to try again –”

“I don’t care, it’s fine.” Sirius replied, shrugging him off and walking even faster, quickly getting away from them, broom still under his arm.

James went to catch him, but Remus grabbed his arm.

“Leave him,” he said, sounding almost angry, “Let him go if he wants to be a moody git about it.”

As they arrived in the Great Hall, the Doctor glanced around for Sirius.

“Where you going, mate?” James asked when the Doctor turned to try and sneak out.

“Er, Slughorn’s office – I forgot, I had a question – about the potion, see. I’ll see you lot later.”

He hurried off. From the incredibly pissed look on Remus’s face, there was no question between the three of them where he was going.

However, Sirius wasn’t in the dormitory. He wasn’t in the common room. He wasn’t in the library. He wasn’t in any of the common areas or anywhere the Doctor looked.

To the Doctor’s surprise, it was Remus who Sirius came strolling back into the dormitory with.

“Sirius,” The Doctor said cheerily, “You ‘right?”

“Yeah,” he said, his face in a half-smile, glancing over at Remus. “Yeah, I am, actually.”

Sirius’s thirteenth birthday did not fall on a full moon as his twelfth had. He hadn’t told any of the Marauders what had happened between himself and Remus, but it was clear that something had occurred, as Sirius seemed more…sensitive towards Remus and Peter.

The subject of Quidditch was still a sore one though, and so on the morning of his second Hogwarts birthday, James had enough tact not to suggest a lunchtime flying session.

Breakfast began with a round of ‘happy birthday’ at the very tops of their voices, as had become tradition for the Marauders. The Potters sent Sirius a massive basket of chocolates, while James had ordered half of Zonko’s catalogue as a birthday present. Remus seemed a bit shy to hand over his own gifts – some old copies of Melody Maker and NME – but Sirius was thrilled, as one of them had an interview with Marc Bolan. Peter handed over a small basket of chocolate frogs, only adding to the sugary pile the Potters had sent. The Doctor presented him with a small parcel, no larger than that of a jewellery box.

“Proposing?” James teased as he passed it down.

Sirius frowned when he opened it, pulling out a small wristwatch with subtle red and gold stripes going down the sides.

“I just finished it last night,” the Doctor admitted, “It plays music, see.”

He adjusted a few dials so that the top popped up to reveal a miniature turntable, “You can put your records in here and adjust the sound with this –”

“Wait, you’re telling me a record fits in there?” Remus asked in awe.

“It’s bigger on the inside,” the Doctor grinned, “Time – er – it’s magic.”

“Right.”

“I just thought, seeing as at home it might be difficult to play non-magical music at full volume –”

The Doctor didn’t get to finish as Sirius suddenly flung himself full-force at the Time Lord in an embrace.

“It’s absolutely brilliant, Doctor. Thank you.”

Unfortunately, their carefree morning ended there. As they finished their meal and were preparing to go up to their first lesson (History of Magic), their passage out of the hall was blocked.

“Sirius.” A stern voice said.

Narcissa Black stood before them. At fifteen, she was taller than all five Marauders. She didn’t have her elder sister’s mad look, though they did share the pinched face. Her hair was dyed and straightened so that it hung in a beautiful platinum sheet, which shimmered when it caught the light.

She stood before them with her arms crossed, Relugus skulking at her side.

“Cissy.” Sirius nodded in greeting. She flinched, but didn’t chastise him.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Well, I was aware.”

She rolled her eyes. It seemed she didn’t have her sister’s temper, either, which was something of a relief.

“You’re to eat with us this evening.”

“You’re welcome to join us at the Gryffindor table if you’d like,” the Doctor suggested.

“No.” She narrowed her grey eyes, gaze not averting from her cousin, “Your mother has given strict instructions. We’ll eat privately in the Slytherin common room like last year.”

“No!” Sirius shouted in defiance, “I want to eat with my friends.”

“You can eat with them any time you want.” Narcissa snapped, her hands on her hips now. “Birthdays are family occasions.”

The Doctor, deciding this was not the best time to go on his ‘found family is still family’ lecture, left it there for Sirius to respond. Regulus was looking at his feet, still standing behind his cousin. Sirius was still annoyed, but finally nodded his assent.

Once a time had been set for dinner, the two Slytherin Blacks left, and the marauders stared after them.

“Bad luck,” James commiserated, “Want to punk off lessons?”

“Nah,” Sirius shook his head, “I’ll just take a few dung bombs with me to dinner.”

“We can see if that time-bomb spell works!”

“Perfect.”

Sirius was gone a long while after dinner. James and the Doctor were both pacing the dormitory like pumas, the former checking his watch every few minutes and wondering aloud whether he ought to go and stand outside the dungeons and shout.

The Doctor was also unnaturally anxious. He wasn’t used to being unable to do anything, especially about something so simple. It would be easy, just go in, get him out. He wasn’t even tied up – well, he assumed not, he could be wrong, the Black family seemed rather foul. But he couldn’t. Because they couldn’t just run away if they did. The Doctor knew Sirius would never leave Hogwarts, never leave his friends. He had been right when he said he wouldn’t be able to escape his family, not while he was in school.

“We need to start working on your map again, Lupin,” James said, running his hands through his hair in a very Doctor-like manner, “Get everyone tagged, so we know where they are at all times.”

“We can see when any of Sirius’s family is near,” the Doctor agreed, “Keep him away from them.”

“We’re a long way off that,” Remus said from his bed, “Still haven’t mapped any of the east wing. I can do some over Christmas.”

“No,” James stopped in the middle of the room, almost causing the Doctor to collide into him, “You, and Black are coming to mine for Christmas. The Doctor too.”

Remus stared at him and swallowed awkwardly.

James waved his hand, resuming his pacing. “I’ll sort it all out with dad, don’t worry. Full moon’s on the twentieth, I checked. We can all hang out here until then and leave on the twenty-first.”

“And we’ll just have to speed up production on the map,” the Doctor said, “I don’t sleep much, and with the sonic, I can use sound reverberations to find secret passages, so long as I can keep professors from hearing –”

“Because anyone who’s sane knows you need less sleep,” James said.

“Oi! I sleep plenty!”

“I’m pretty sure the only time I’ve ever seen you sleep is when you…you know…”

Right. The only times the Marauders had ever seen him sleep were those nights the Doctor would wake up screaming.

“Yes, well –”

The Doctor was mercifully cut off as the door slammed open and a white-faced Sirius came in, looking even worse than he usually did after an encounter with his family – closed off and utterly joyless. Even his eyes looked a little less bright, veering into gray.

“What happened?” the Doctor asked immediately.

“It’s terrible,” Sirius said, “Really, really terrible. Vile. The worst, most unthinkable…Horrific.” He threw himself onto his bed, face down.

“Sirius,” the Doctor said more seriously, “What happened?”

“I’m getting married.” He said bluntly.

“What?” James and Peter shouted.

“Narcissa told me.” He nodded, still staring blankly upwards, “Usually they wouldn’t make a match until I was of age, like with Bellatrix, but Cissy says they’ve decided to tighten the reins in my case.”

“Make a match?” James sounded flabbergasted, “The Blacks don’t still have arranged marriages, surely?”

“Of course we do.” Sirius heaved a sigh, “Noble and most ancient, et cetera, et cetera…They want to hold the betrothal ceremony next summer. I’m supposed to ‘buck my ideas up’ in time for it. Then the wedding is happening as soon as I finish Hogwarts. Doubt you lot’ll be invited.”

“That’s mad!” James shouted, “That’s medieval! That’s…”

“My mother.” Sirius finished.

“Who are you supposed to be betrothed to?” The Doctor asked as evenly as he could manage.

Sirius sat up. “That’s the twist in the dragon’s tail, isn’t it,” He said angrily, “That’s my mother’s pièce de résistance,” He pronounced the French beautifully, even in his rage.

“Who is it?” Remus asked.

“Cissy.”

“Narcissa?”

“Your cousin?”

“Narcissa Black?”

Sirius nodded, his shoulders sagging. The closed-off look returned to his face and he lay back down.

“Apparently they’re looking to rein her too. Andromeda – her sister, y’know, the only normal one – she’s pregnant, according to Cissy. They’re closing ranks, trying to prevent any more ‘dirty blood’ from getting in.”

“Narcissa, isn’t she dating Lucius Malfoy?” The Doctor recalled from the wedding.

Sirius nodded, “She’s as pissed off about it as I am, believe me. Talk about wedded bliss.”

“And Regulus said nothing about this?” The Doctor asked.

“What, thinks he fancies her instead?”

“Well, she is quite pretty,” Peter said meekly.

Sirius gave him a look that could shatter glass.

“She’s my cousin you dolt.”

“No, I mean, he was there wasn’t he?” The Doctor asked, “He didn’t protest, didn’t agree?”

“Didn’t say a word,” Sirius growled.

The Doctor nodded deeply.

"We'll figure this out, Sirius," he said sincerely, "I promise we'll get you out of this."

“Why do you seem so calm about this?” Remus suddenly asked the Doctor.

“Dealt with this sort of thing before,” the Doctor shrugged, “Usually manage to get everyone out unscathed.”

“Hold on,” James said, “Your lot don’t do arranged marriages too, do they?”

"No," the Doctor said, regarding him oddly, “Well, not really. We were well past that as a society. I was in a political marriage once, but –”

“How old were you?” James demanded furiously, looking as though he was about to jump on his broom and fly to Ireland himself.

“It’s a little more complex than that,” The Doctor said quickly, “We didn’t do child marriages.”

That seemed to calm James down enough to re-focus.

“Right, well, we’ve got until next summer.” He said, still eyeing the Doctor as if to tell him that he would definitely be asking questions later. “And we’ve got Narcissa on our side, believe it or not. So I’d say it’s not hopeless.”

“You don’t know what hopeless is until you’ve met my mother.” Sirius said.

“And she doesn’t know what a Marauder is,” James said firmly. “Gentlemen, we have a new mission.”

Chapter Text

The Doctor was in constant motion for the next week. True to his word, he snatched James’s cloak and worked tirelessly on the map at night, scanning the air for hidden passages as he went. He spent almost every hour of his day trying to think of a plan to get Sirius out of his arranged marriage. The key was Narcissa. She was on their side, and her boyfriend would be too. It got to the point where James would have to drag him to mealtimes to get him to eat, and even then he was still nose-deep in various books about ancient wizarding families and dark magic traditionalists.

“You look manic, mate.” James decided one evening. He, Peter, and Sirius were sitting in the comfy chairs in the common room. The Doctor was on the floor in front of the couch, six different books spread around him.

“In fairness, the last time I was called manic I was in a psychiatric hospital in Glasgow, so your accusations are not without merit.”

“What is your life?”

The portrait hole creaked open and Remus and Lily climbed through.

“Alright, Lupin?” James grinned. Remus nodded to Lily and joined his friends as the redhead went straight up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. “Dumped us for Evans, have you?”

“Potions,” Remus replied simply.

“Right. You friends with her now too?” He didn’t sound like he was complaining, though he’d done plenty of teasing when he first learned how well she and the Doctor got on."

“Sort of,” Remus shrugged. “She’s all right, hates you two,” He gestured towards James and Sirius.

“What?” They both sat up, looking affronted.

“She thinks you’re show offs.”

James gasped dramatically.

“How dare she! We’ll have to win her over.”

“Why bother,” Sirius rolled over, returning to his book, “She’s friends with Snivellus, she clearly has no taste.”

“Sirius–” the Doctor scolded.

“– did she really say that?” James cut the Doctor off.

Remus nodded. “She says you think you’re god’s gift.”

“What does that mean?”

"It's an expression." the Doctor explained, "It means you're full of yourself."

“She thinks that?” James asked.

“Well,” Remus said, “You sort of are, to be honest.”

James laughed. Remus sat down beside him, grabbing a handful of Zonko beans himself and flinging them into the fire, one by one. He and Jame shortly made a game of it, seeking who could create the biggest explosions by hitting the embers just right.

The Doctor settled back into his books, he could see Sirius doing the same out of the corner of his eye, though his seemed less research-based and more out of obligation for his homework.

“Forgot to say,” James added, “Got the owl from dad today – he’s spoken to McGonagall and got permission for us to have you over for Christmas, Remus.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, doesn’t think he can get you for the summer, though. Sorry.”

Remus shook his head wordlessly in disbelief.

“Just waiting for you now, mate,” James nudged Sirius with his foot, “Have you sorted it out with your mum? Say you’re going to Pettigrew’s again.”

“I’ll see if I can help – not sure if she knows Horologium Black doesn’t exist or not, though, so I’ll just –” The Doctor began.

“Don’t bother,” Sirius cut him off. “I’m just going anyway without saying anything.”

Sirius was rarely ever in contact with his parents, but since the Narcissa development he’d been ignoring their owls altogether.

“Mum won’t like it.” James said.

“Don’t tell her, then.” Sirius scribbled one final note on his parchment, snapped his book shut, stood up, and headed into the dormitory.

The Hogwarts Express left Hogsmeade Station for Christmas on Saturday the sixteenth of December that year, meaning that once the full moon had passed, James, Sirius, Remus, and the Doctor would have to find another means of getting to the Potters’ family home, Peter having taken the train back like normal.

Professor McGonagall, after lecturing Remus not to let any other students in on his secret, and lecturing the others on how important this secret was and how they couldn’t tell a soul, was sympathetic to the group’s wishes and allowed them to use the floo connection in her office ‘just this once.’

The Floo Network was supposedly a means of transportation in the wizarding world. It was a network of fireplaces that were magically linked and, via the use of floo powder, one could travel between. It was fascinating to say the least.

Sirius received a howler every morning after the sixteenth demanding he come home at once, but he simply tossed the scarlet envelopes into the fireplace where his mother’s screams echoed up the chimney stacks.

“So you said you knew what to do about stuff like this?” James whispered the morning of the 20th as the two of them headed down to breakfast. Usually the others would join them, but James had been up at the crack of dawn with worry and, with none of the other boys up yet, the Doctor had invited him down for a walk and to breakfast.

“I said I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before,” the Doctor said, “This is just a little more complicated. He’ll never leave Hogwarts, so we can’t exactly hide him or keep him far away. We could try to satiate them with another partner, which Narcissa’s already got, but we’d need to find one for Sirius, and I can’t imagine that going over particularly well with him.”

James was nodding along silently.

“I would try convincing them with Horologium Black, but I think that’s a disguise that’s been mostly compromised.” That usually wouldn’t bother him much, but he had to stick around now. He had to think long-term.

“So what do we do?” James asked.

“We talk to Narcissa,” the Doctor decided, “Well, I do anyway. She’s just as upset about this and she’s sure to have more insight on the family.”

“Why just you?” James sounded almost insulted.

“Because, save Sirius, the Blacks don’t like you, James.” The Doctor said bluntly, “and whilst I’m not sure about what grace I still hold with them, Narcissa will take me talking to her far better than she will you.”

“But what if I come with you?” James asked desperately, “If you bring me along –”

“I know you want to help, James,” the Doctor said, his voice infuriatingly calm, “But this situation, it’s…tedious. We have to do this tactically.”

“Yeah…” James said, “I guess.”

They continued walking in silence for a moment.

“You really have done this sort of thing before, haven’t you?” James said, though it wasn’t a question.

“Yes, I have.” The Doctor answered anyways.

“It’s weird,” James said after an unnaturally long pause, “You say all this stuff that’s totally mad – that I know there’s no way someone our age could’ve done and – I dunno, I just believe you.”

“I have got one of those faces.”

He laughed, but it quickly faded, “And you do that, you joke around and we all forget about it, but – it just makes me wonder…Are you okay, Doctor?”

“Of course I’m okay,” He said it gently, as if he were the one trying to comfort James, “I’m always okay.”

“See, and for some reason, I can tell that’s utter rubbish.”

The Doctor laughed, “You’re very perceptive, James. But I really am all right. We’re –  I’m a resilient…person.”

“And you do that all the time,” He added, “Start to say things then change them around.”

“Everyone does that.”

James snorted, “Not like you do. It’s like you’re lying to us.”

“What could I possibly have to lie about?”

“I dunno,” he squinted suspiciously before deciding, “But don’t think I won’t find out.”

The Doctor laughed along, “I don’t doubt it.”

And he truly didn’t. He really needed to find some better excuses.

Although, part of him wouldn’t really mind if James found out. If he could keep Remus’s secret, why couldn't he keep the Doctor's?

When the Doctor and James came back to the common room, they could hear shouting all the way in the boy’s dormitory.

Racing up the stairs, they skidded into the room to hear Remus shout, “SHUT UP!” before launching himself at Sirius and begin thumping him as hard as he could whilst Sirius grabbed for his wand.

“Mordeo!”

Remus let go of Sirius, tumbling backwards onto the bed, clutching his forehead.

“Sirius–!” The Doctor shouted.

“You wanker!” Remus yelled as his face tightened and swelled up.

“You deserved it!”

“You cursed him?” James yelled above the commotion. “You bloody cursed him?”

“He started it!”

“He didn’t even have his wand on him!”

”Everyone shut up!” The Doctor yelled, casting the room into silence.

“Remus," He said once the sound had quelled, "I’m taking you to the hospital wing, James, you watch Sirius.”

“Watch me?” Sirius cried indignantly, “I’m not a child!”

“Then stop acting like one,” the Doctor said sharply.

The Doctor practically dragged Remus out of the dormitory, before the boy managed to scramble off the Doctor. “Don’t touch me!”

The Doctor lifted his hands in surrender, “Remus, are you all –”

“I’m fine!” He shouted, “I’m ruddy fine! I don’t need your help!”

“At least let me walk you –”

“No! Leave me alone!”

Remus took off through the common room. The Doctor didn’t follow.

Through the door to the dormitory, he could hear James speaking.

“Attacking someone who’s unarmed is really fucking low, Black.”

He could hear Sirius heave a sigh and in a heavy voice say, “I know.”

The Doctor didn’t follow Remus, nor did he return to the dormitory. Instead, he lingered in the common room.

“Don’t take it so hard, mate.”

The Doctor turned to see James making his way down the stairs.

The Time Lord shook his head. “I’m not taking it hard. He just needs some space and time.” His mouth curled upward slightly in humour he knew James wouldn’t understand, “Don’t we all?”

His dorm-mate dropped down on one of the comfy chairs and looked over at the Doctor.

“Has anyone ever told you that you act like an adult sometimes?”

“No, usually it’s the other way ‘round, actually.”

“You tell other people they’re too adult?”

“No, other people tell me I’m too childish.”

James looked at him curiously. “But you’re not.”

“All about perspective, I suppose.”

“I guess.”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“You know,” James eventually said, “mum said sometimes kids with trauma act way older than they are.”

“An interesting observation. It might just be useful to you one day.”

“Come on,” James elbowed the Time Lord, “We all know you’re messed up, mate.”

For some reason, that hurt more than James had probably ever intended it to.

“Your accusations wound me." The Doctor said instead, "I’m the most perfectly well-balanced human on this entire planet.”

James snorted, “That’s such a lie.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor finally relented, “I suppose it is.”

There was another lapse of silence.

“How mad do you suppose Remus is at Sirius?”

“I couldn’t say,” the Doctor admitted, “But I think he’ll forgive him.”

“Sirius feels really terrible about what he did.”

“I know.”

“He thinks you were really condescending to him, though.”

“I probably was.”

“He won’t confront you about it.”

“Is that why you’re here?” The Doctor teased, “to reprimand me?”

“Sirius and I are going to try and see Remus after lunch.”

“Are you asking me to come or telling me I can’t?”

“I don’t think I could tell you what to do if I wanted to.”

“But you can always ask.”

There was a pause.

“Will you come?”

“Of course I will.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, James.”

It was about one o’clock when James, Sirius, and the Doctor came to see Remus in the hospital wing. However, Madam Pomfrey gave them a piece of her mind first.

“Cursing your fellow house mate! Cursing your dorm mate, for goodness sake! In my day you’d have been flogged! And Professor McGonagall has informed me that you know about his special circumstances! One might think you’d have more sense!”

James apologised copiously. Sirius, who barely flinched at his mother’s obscene chastisements anymore, hung his head looking utterly ashamed.

Finally, enough seemed enough and Madam Pomfrey allowed the three of them over to see their friends.

“We’re really sorry –” the Doctor sent James a look to stop him in his tracks before elbowing Sirius.

“I’m really sorry, Remus,” Sirius said, unable to meet his friend’s eye.

Remus stared at him for a minute, his eyes moving from Sirius’s teary eyes to the heavy dark bruise high on his left cheek. The anger seemed to dissipate on the spot.

“I started it. Sorry I hit you.”

“Sorry about the howler.”

“Sorry your mum’s a nightmare.”

“Sorry you’re a werewolf.”

They both laughed and everything was forgiven.

“I don’t suppose she’ll let you out now, will she?” James asked, a while later, “Few hours ‘til the moon still.”

“Nah,s he wants to try some new potion.”

“I didn’t know there was a cure!”

“There isn’t,” Remus said quickly, “This is just a…I think it’s to make the transformation, y’know…easier.”

“It’s a painkiller,” the Doctor realized. “Non-magical ones would never work on your metabolism, not with that large of a regularly occurring energy transfer.”

“Does it hurt, then?” Sirius asked, cocking his head.

“Well, yeah,” Remus frowned.

The Doctor hummed. “I’ll see what I can do when I get back to the – when I get – er, home. During the summer. I'll try and find something that…might work better."

No one had much of a response to that.

James, Sirius, and the Doctor elected to stay in the hospital wing with Remus for the rest of the afternoon. They played a few riotous games of exploding snap before Madam Pomfrey sternly told them to quiet down, so they switched to gobstones. As they evening drew in, they didn’t go down for dinner, instead all electing to eat in the hospital wing with their friend.

Finally, Professor McGonagall came and chased them out, sending them all up towards Gryffindor tower.

The four of them chatted a bit about all that had happened, but they seemed rather exhausted on their own. By about eleven o’clock, it sounded as though they all were asleep.

Perfect.

Silently clambering out of bed, the Doctor slipped out the door, padding silently down the steps of the common room.

No one was in there.

He was just nearing the portrait hole when he could hear a creak on the steps.

“Doctor?”

“James,” the Doctor said uncomfortably, “What’re you doing up so late?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“Just wandering. Trying to finish up the map, you know –”

“Might be believable if the map wasn’t still in Remus’s drawer – I checked.” James squinted through the dark at the Doctor’s sheepish figure, “Wait, you’re not a werewolf too, are you?”

“No, no, just…exploring.”

“Doctor, I swear if you try to go after Remus –”

“It’s fascinating – I just want to look!”

“You can’t go out at night! I know he’s not dangerous but in his wolf form he could be!”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Trust me, he’s not the first werewolf I’ve met.”

“Doctor, this is serious, he could kill you –”

“Trust me, I’m very good at getting out of scraps –”

“Doctor –!”

“What are you two doing?” Another voice joined the pair and they both looked up to see the only Gryffindor prefect who’d stayed at school for the break. He looked furious.

“Nothing –”

“Going to bed –”

“Just pretend we were never here –”

“Sorry to wake you –”

“Well, I’m not sorry.”

“Doctor!”

“I’ll ask you one more time.” The prefect, the Doctor was pretty sure his name was Gary or Gerald or something, demanded.

James looked between the Doctor and the prefect before blurting out, “John was trying to sneak out to run around the grounds at night.”

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” the prefect all but shouted, before lowering his voice into a hiss, “I’ll be reporting this to McGonagall, and that’s detention for both of you.”

“Why do I get detention?” James complained.

“Back to your dormitories, now.”

The Doctor and James both knew better than to argue.

The Time Lord scowled as they returned to their rooms.

“Look,” James whispered after checking to see if the commotion had roused Sirius, “I don’t doubt you could handle yourself, but if Remus hurt you, he’d never forgive himself.”

With that, James returned to his bed, leaving the Doctor with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

Oh, shame. That was the one.

James, Sirius, and the Doctor all returned to the hospital wing the next morning to find Remus dozing in his bed. Sirius drew a sharp gasp of breath as they spotted the rather nasty scratch on his face.

Madam Pomfrey’s ministrations had already half-healed it, but there was still a hard black scab, edged with tender red skin stretching from the inner corner of his eye, up over the bridge of his nose diagonally down towards the center of his opposite cheek.

“My beautiful face,” he said in a weak attempt at sarcasm.

“It’s not that bad,” James said quickly, “It’ll heal really fast, I bet…”

“How did –” Sirius began, but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey, who came storming over.

“You three, back again!” She said sharply, pulling the curtain around Remus’s bed, closing it in their faces, “Ah, you’ve had a look, have you?” She then addressed Remus, in a much softer tone, “I know it looks bad, but it’ll pale just like the others. Should be barely noticeable by the new year.”

She was lying. He doubted Remus didn’t know that.

The Doctor could hear her speak to Remus through the curtain. “Take this with you,” she said. “Apply every morning and evening. Does it hurt still?”

There was a short silence, which the Doctor interpreted to be Remus shaking her head as Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue skeptically.

“Well, even so. It might itch a bit as it heals. Perhaps we could try trimming your nails down next month? Though I suppose the claws come in anyway.” She sighed, sounding frustrated. “Your face must still have been irritated even after we got the swelling down.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said quickly. “Can I go now, I feel okay.”

“Wouldn’t you rather get a bit more sleep?”

“No, I’m hungry,” Remus said firmly, “I want to go down for breakfast.”

“Well…fine.” Madam Pomfrey sighed again, sounding utterly exhausted. “Get dressed then, off you pop.”

The Marauders all walked down to breakfast together. It was an unusually quiet affair.

Once fed, they all headed upstairs. James split off to Professor McGonagall’s office to see if everything was ready for the journey. The Doctor quickly followed suit as Gary the prefect dragged him by the ear in that same direction.

Chapter Text

“What were you thinking?” Professor McGonagall demanded. “Don’t think I don’t know why you wanted to go out on that night of all nights, you could’ve been killed!”

The Doctor groaned back in his seat. How was he supposed to explain to the professor that he had saved the world hundreds of times and could handle a simple werewolf?

He decided to go with a simple: “I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this."

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” She continued, “I bet you thought this was an excellent idea." Her voice softened, "I know you were trying to help your friend, and that is admirable. But what you did was horribly dangerous."

The Doctor had the decency to look ashamed. “I know, professor.”

“And don’t think I don’t know that Potter was in on it too –”

“He really wasn’t, professor,” the Doctor insisted for the fourth time, “I told you, he was trying to stop me. He’s the one who told the prefect what I was trying to do. He heard me sneak out of bed.”

“Did he now?”

The Doctor nodded vigorously, he had to keep James out of trouble. He’d done the right thing, he really had. If he got punished for doing the right thing…after they’d made so much progress…He just had to convince her.

“He just…he reminded me that if Remus had hurt me, he would never forgive himself,” the Doctor admitted. “And he’s right. I know he is. I just didn’t think…”

Professor McGonagall’s gaze softened.

“John, I know you like to think yourself invulnerable because of your vast intelligence, but Professor Dumbledore and I think –”

“Oh, Professor Dumbledore, we always love hearing from him.”

“Mr. Smith,” Professor McGonagall scolded before continuing, “Professor Dumbledore and I think that perhaps you may benefit from an isolated dorm and some additional classes. These boys are a bad influence on you and I think you know it –”

The Doctor shook his head, “You won’t separate us, professor. And if you do, don’t think I won’t sneak in. I can help them. Just last year, James would’ve jumped at the chance to sneak out and see a werewolf. He’s –”

“I don’t doubt your positive influence on them,” Professor McGonagall said, “But John, you have a gift – you really do – and I refuse to watch you squander it for the sake of four misbehaving boys –”

“They’re my friends.” The Doctor said firmly.

She sighed, “I know that, John. And I do want them to succeed, I really do. But not at your expense.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and stood up, “Well, if that’s all, Professor –”

“Actually, Mr. Smith, it’s not.”

The Doctor begrudgingly sat back down in his seat.

“I got an owl from Mr. and Mrs. Potter.”

“Yes, well, they do have a son attending school here.”

“They were actually talking about you , Mr. Smith.”

The Doctor’s stomach sank.

“They’re concerned about your home life and have requested a check in,” the professor went on.

“Oh, so after all the ‘there’s nothing I can do’ with Sirius, suddenly my homelife matters –”

“I couldn’t reach your parents, John.” The professor said bluntly.

“Well, yes, they are quite busy.”

“The Potters seem to think otherwise.”

“Oh, do they?” He managed to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

“What do your parents do for work, John?”

“They’re scientists,” the Doctor lied smoothly, “for UNIT. They’re very important, very busy, quite hard to get in touch with.”

She didn’t look all that convinced.

“If that’s all, Professor, I do actually have things I’ve got to do today –”

“Are you homeless, John?”

“No, I’m not, actually.” He lied, hoping he could brute-force his way through this.

“The Potters seem to think otherwise.”

“Yes, well they don’t know me that well, do they.”

“They said you stayed with them all summer –”

“Most of the summer. Again, my parents are quite busy so we didn’t exactly go on vacation.”

“Mr. Smith, I am trying to help you –”

“And I don’t need your help!” The Doctor was almost shouting now.

“John,” Professor McGonagall said, a little calmer now, “If we can’t get in contact with your legal guardian –”

“You’ll what?” The Doctor challenged, “Expel me?”

“You need parental permission to attend this school –”

“And I’ve got that,” the Doctor said sharply, waving his psychic paper, “So how ‘bout you leave this between me and my family, eh?”

She watched him carefully.

“You’re a very bright boy, John.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

“But a simple Revelio charm could tell me that your parents never wrote that note.”

“But they signed the admissions form,” the Doctor reminded her, “So as far as you’re concerned, it really isn’t any of your business. You don’t need to get in contact with them throughout the year. All you need is for them to sign a slip of paper saying I can come.”

“Mr. Smith –”

“You want to investigate my homelife? Investigate Sirius’s first. Now if that’s all, I’ve really got to go pack for the holidays.”

“Mr. Smith!”

But the Doctor was already out the door.

The Doctor didn’t see Professor McGonagall again until she escorted himself, James, Sirius, and Remus to her office to take the floo network to the Potters’ house.

She didn’t make mention of their previous conversation, but a sharp look conveyed all she had to – stay safe. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t leave the Potters’ over break.

His irritated, yet relenting look seemed to suffice for her as she turned back to the rest of the boys and began distributing the floo powder, explaining how they needed to speak very clearly the place they wanted to go, and to keep their elbows tucked, eyes shut, and not so much as fidget.

Remus sent him a worried look, but none of the other boys seemed all that concerned.

James went first, taking a pinch of the powder from a small bag in Professor McGonagall’s hand and stepped into the fireplace that was burning with harmless green fire. Closing his eyes, he threw the powder into the flames: “The Potter house.”

He was sucked into the flame and disappeared from view.

Sirius went next, confident as ever, and was quickly sucked away as well.

“What if I say it wrong?” Remus fretted as his turn arrived, “Or end up in the wrong place.”

“Just speak clearly and don’t fidget,” the transfiguration professor reminded him, offering out the bag for him to take powder from.

Soon, he disappeared too.

The Doctor stepped into the flame, taking a pinch of the powder for himself.

“Be careful, John,” Professor McGonagall reminded him, “If I so much as hear –”

“I’ll be good, Professor.” The Doctor promised, though he didn’t doubt the professor could see the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

However, before she could say anything else, he dropped the powder into the fire.

“The Potter house.”

Just as the words came out of his lips, he could feel his body being sucked down a massive drain. He was spinning, his ears roaring, his eyes peeking open to catch a whirl of green flames.

He half fell out of the fireplace in the Potters’ sitting room. A massive Christmas tree was standing in one corner, glimmering with silver dust and surrounded by a mountain of brightly wrapped presents. Paper chains and streamers were draped across the ceiling and along the picture rails, and even the magical portraits had decorated their frames with fairy lights.

“You all right there, mate?” James was calling from the couch. He and Sirius looked all right, but Remus was looking a bit queasy in the corner.

“Bloody, horrible that is,” he said, “bad as a vortex manipulator.”

“A…what?”

“Brilliant, that’s everyone, then.” Mr. Potter said. He and Mrs. Potter were smiling warmly at the Doctor, though anxiety brimmed in the latter’s eyes as she came over for a hug, something he reluctantly allowed.

“Remus,” they finally turned to the boy, “We’ve heard so much about you, I’m so glad you’re spending Christmas with us.”

Remus shrunk back shyly, though couldn’t seem to bring himself to speak. However, that didn’t matter, as James and Sirius were chattering nineteen to the dozen with Mr. Potter, who’s eyes were twinkling with fun and mischief.

“I’m glad you decided to come back, John,” Mrs. Potter said quietly. 

The Doctor didn’t quite want to admit how happy he was to do so.

After depositing their things in the bedrooms, the boys were called outside to go tobogganing down the snowy slopes in the back garden – though at over five hundred acres, it wasn’t exactly a garden.

Peter came out from his house down the village to join them as soon as he heard they’d arrived. They followed that up with an extremely noisy snowball fight, though it quickly devolved from teams of Sirius and James against Peter, Remus, and the Doctor, to an all out four on one against the Doctor. Mr. Potter even joined in eventually – remarkably sprightly for his age, and with the considerable advantage of being able to use magic. He'd originally come out to help the Doctor, only to quickly realize why the other boys had teamed up against him and joined their side as well.

Mrs. Potter eventually called them in for lunch and made them all change out of their freezing wet clothes. They sat by the fireplace, warm and dry, eating hot toasted teacakes smeared with rich yellow butter. In the afternoon they wanted to go out again, but Mr. Potter had gone to lie down and Mrs. Potter didn’t want them to go out so close to nightfall. Instead, they helped decorate an enormous Christmas cake with white royal icing and tiny magical figurines, then to wrap presents for the neighbors and their house elves.

“We never got anything for the house elf,” Sirius said matter-of-factly, his fingers hopelessly bound in some spell-o-tape, “Mind you, Kreacher’s a moody git; I doubt he wants anything.”

Ah yes, the Doctor had heard about house elves in his research on the regulations around magical creatures, it was truly horrible – a slave species bound to a magical family, passed along the lineage, capable of their own magic yet forbidden to hold a wand.

“You have a house elf and named him ‘creature?’” The Doctor said disgustedly.

“Kreacher, with a ‘K,’” Sirius corrected, “and It’s not like I named him. Been in the family forever.”

“They’ll take gifts as long as it’s something edible, I find,” Mrs. Potter said, trying to smooth things down a bit. “No clothes, of course, that only upsets them.”

“Tell mum what your lot does to house elves, Sirius,” James grinned, binding his friend’s hands up even more. Sirius laughed, lightly.

“Mounts their heads,” he said. “Once they’re dead. At least, I think we wait until they’re dead…Kreacher’s the only house elf I remember.”

“Goodness,” Mrs. Potter said, “I had rather thought that tradition had died out.”

“Not with the Blacks,” Sirius sighed. The Doctor could tell he was thinking about the betrothal again.

“You’re making a lovely job of that, Remus,” Mrs. Potter observed, glancing over at the book he was wrapping for Mrs. Pettigrew. “Unlike some naughty boys I could mention…” she turned a stern gaze upon her son and his best friend, now attempting to tape their hands to the table top.

“Woah, Doctor, how’d you learn to wrap like that?” James observed, looking over the table he was now stuck to.

The Doctor looked down at the rather strangely-shaped art piece he was wrapping for one of the neighbors.

“I’ve had a lot of experience,” the Doctor shrugged. Hundreds of years, in fact. “Even if I’ve never been one for holidays and birthdays and the like – have a hard time remembering them, really. Always get them in the wrong order.”

“Get them in the…what?” Remus asked.

“Hold on,” James said, cogs clearly turning in his head, "We didn't celebrate your birthday last year, did we?”

There was an uncomfortable silence as everyone looked around the room as if to see if someone would speak up and remind them of a day that never was.

“Was it the summer before…you know.” Sirius didn’t seem to want the words ‘wedding’ to pass his lips.

“Yeah, did we miss it?” James asked.

“I’m not sure when my birthday is, to be honest.” The Doctor admitted, anxiously tugging on his ear, “It’s been a long time since it happened.”

“Hold on,” James said, “Have you seriously never celebrated a birthday?”

“I’ve celebrated other peoples’ birthdays,” the Doctor said self-consciously.

“But not yours.”

The Doctor was looking quite uncomfortable now. “It just wasn’t something we did back home.”

James shook his head. “Man, Ireland's messed up.”

The Doctor could feel Mrs. Potter’s eyes bearing into the back of his skull.

By some miracle, Remus let out a particularly loud yawn.

“You better get to bed, dear,” Mrs. Potter said, seemingly ignoring the fact that it was only three o’clock in the afternoon.

“Oh, you’re all right, aren’t you, Lupin?” Sirius cajoled, “Peter’s coming back in a bit, we can go out again.”

“Leave him alone, Sirius,” Mrs. Potter chided, “the poor boy’s dead on his feet. Come on, dear, off you go.”

Now that he was looking at him, the boy looked quite exhausted indeed.

“It’s a massive molecular readjustment, what he goes through,” the Doctor explained to Sirius once Remus headed upstairs and Mrs. Potter made her way to the kitchen, “He’s bound to be exhausted after it happens – especially as he gets older, I mean I –” He managed to find awareness within himself before accidentally spilling any information, “I just know a lot about it. I read it. In a book.”

He glanced over at the others for approval.

“You know, if I didn’t see you every full moon, I would think that you’re a werewolf too,” James decided.

Sirius snorted, “Why would you think that?”

“Because there’s something not normal about him,” He squinted as if to study him suspiciously.

“Yeah, he’s a big ol’ nerd.”

The two boys burst into laughter, the Doctor following suit, albeit slightly anxiously.

Whilst maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they knew, he knew whatever kind of friendship this was, it would never be the same again. Was it selfish to not want this to change?

“John,” Mrs. Potter called from the kitchen, “you wouldn’t mind bringing this up to Remus, would you?”

The Doctor made his way in and accepted a small potion bottle – likely a healing draught and nodded.

“Maybe you should get some sleep too, dear, you look exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” the Doctor promised, moving towards the staircase.

“I’m sure you are.” She said doubtfully as he headed up the stairs.

“Remus,” the Doctor called softly, cracking the guest room door.

“Hey, Doctor,” Remus called back tiredly, gesturing for him to enter. He was holding the ointment Madam Pomfrey had given him.

“Mrs. Potter sent this up – a healing draught, I should think.”

“Oh, thanks,” Remus said tiredly, going in to drink it near-immediately (a concerning glimpse into the pain he was likely in).

“You all right?”

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Not surprised, it’s not unusual for –” he caught himself again. “Well, I’m sure you know. I always find – er, well, I should think maybe that eating could help. You know, as a supplement to the energy loss. If you’re hungry I could bring you something, I mean. 

Remus smiled tiredly, “Thanks Doctor.”

“What for?”

“For trying to make me feel better.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but smile. “Sleep well – In the next snowball fight, I fully expect you to be my undercover agent.”

“You’re just upset because you lost.”

“I didn’t lose. I was just…temporarily incapacitated.”

“James freaked out. Thought he killed you for a minute there until you popped back up and nearly gave him a heart attack.”

“At least someone was worried about me.”

Remus laughed again, before falling silent and within moments it became very clear the boy had fallen asleep.

“Good night, Remus.” The Doctor whispered as he quietly closed the door.

The days before Christmas passed quickly. They would tramp all around in the snow, bundled up in their warm Gryffindor scarves, hats, and gloves (even the Doctor, as enforced by Mrs. Potter). In the evenings they played card games, helped Mrs. Potter prepare dinner, and listened to Mr. Potter tell ghost stories around the fireplace. They made mince pies and paper chains and built snow-wizards and igloos.

The Doctor, once again, found himself almost concerned how easily he slid into this domestic living. It helped that the Potter’s house wasn’t all that hard to sneak out of. In the late evenings, after everyone else had gone to bed, he would slip out the window, scale down the wall, and wander the surrounding countryside, laying down in the snow until his pajamas were soaked all the way through just staring at the stars.

It was a few days before Christmas when the Doctor found himself slipping back into the bedroom only to find Mrs. Potter sitting on the edge of his bed, looking incredibly unimpressed.

“I can explain!” Now that he thought about it, he’d been using that phrase far too often these days.

“I’m sure you can.”

He stared at her for a moment, opening and closing his mouth.

“Go ahead then,” Mrs. Potter prompted, “Explain.”

“I’m a werewolf too?”

If possible, she appeared even less impressed. “Back to bed. Now. Don’t think we won’t talk about this in the morning.”

The next day the Doctor found a lock on the guest room window and the Sonic Screwdriver suspiciously missing from his things.

It seemed the Potters underestimated his abilities to get out of a locked room.

He grinned as the lock clicked open and he began scaling down the exterior wall once more.

“I didn’t break out of Valog-Noc just to be confined to a bloody bedroom all night.”

“Oh, did you now?”

The Doctor froze as his feet hit the snow on the ground and he turned around only to find Mrs. Potter sitting out in the snow, a small magical fire lit in front of her porch chair.

“Hi, Mrs. Potter,” the Doctor said sheepishly.

“Inside. Now.”

His window was magically locked after that, much to the Doctor’s dismay.

The Doctor got up the morning of Christmas Eve as he heard a piece of notebook paper being slid under the door. In what was clearly Sirius’s neat curved handwriting, it read:

Don’t come down until 7:00.

He could hear the other boys giggling down the hall and the sound of Mr. Potter hushing them.

Frowning, the Doctor remained in the guest room for the next hour and a half, pacing around anxiously, wondering what could possibly be down there. Seeing as they were usually followed by someone trying to kill him, he wasn’t the biggest fan of surprises.

But eventually seven o’clock came and the Doctor cautiously peaked through the door, only to find the halls eerily empty.

He crept down the stairs and made his way to the kitchen where he could hear quiet stifled laughter emanating from. Four boys, if he had to guess – Peter must be back – two adults, likely Mr. and Mrs. Potter.

He didn’t really need it, but for everyone else’s sake, he flicked on the lights, only for the room to explode with red and gold confetti and for all four Marauders and both Potter parents to jump out from under the table. A large banner across the ceiling read: Happy Birthday John Doctor!

“Surprise!” James was beaming, “Since you couldn’t remember your birthday we decided to pick one for you!”

“We didn’t want to do Christmas day since Pete’s got a cousin who’s birthday is on Christmas and she says it’s right awful.” Sirius added.

The Doctor found himself taken aback a moment, for once unsure what to say.

“John, if you need a minute –” Mrs. Potter began.

“No, no,” the Doctor said quickly, “It’s just I – I mean, I didn’t expect – I never really thought – thanks.” He finally managed to settle on.

The other four Marauders tackled him in a big hug and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of appreciation in his hearts. It was…one of the kindest things anyone had done for him in a very long time. And it wasn’t because he’d saved their lives or their civilization or their planet. It wasn’t even because he’d returned a sacred object to their people or fought off a cruel dictator. It was just…to be kind. Just…because they could.

It was only when the others were extracting themselves off of him that he realized his face was damp.

Mrs. Potter had made birthday pancakes with hundreds and thousands, a very human delicacy that he’d never enjoyed before – something that seemed to sadden the Potter parents greatly when he voiced it aloud.

They followed breakfast up with another snowball fight outside. Everything was going well for the team of James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, until Remus suddenly turned on them, he and the Doctor managing to orchestrate an elaborate snowball trap for the other three to run into.

By mid-afternoon, the five of them were drenched despite their winter gear and escorted inside to sit on the hearth rug by the fire with warm butterbeers in hand whilst Mrs. Potter made lunch. They gave him gifts – likely things that would’ve been in his Christmas haul already like chocolate frogs and bits of candy, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Peter had to go home early to greet his sister and her boyfriend as they returned home, so James, Sirius, Remus, and the Doctor spent the rest of the day in front of the fire, playing games and making each other laugh. Of course, it’s always when things seem to be going too well that everything falls apart.

It was growing late in the evening and James and Sirius had begun playing a game of gobstones. The Doctor was teaching Remus how to play chess, something he’d mentioned having never played before and something he was, to be frank, quite a natural at.

“You’re clever, Remus,” the Doctor said as he moved another piece, “But you’re still not looking at the full board. See, I’ve cornered you here. The natural reaction would be to move your knight up this way, but if you do that, my rook can capture it in the next move, leaving your king vulnerable.”

Remus was nodding along, “So I’d want to move it here – even if it’s not the most tactical move on my end, it throws off your plan.”

“Exactly –”

There was suddenly a loud CRACK just outside the window.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter, who’d been watching the children from the other end of the room, shared a quick glance.

There was a firm and hollow knock at the door.

“Weren’t expecting anyone, were we Effie?” Mr. Potter frowned slightly at his wife. She shook her head and they both made their way to the front door.

The Doctor could hear arguing the moment the Potters answered the knock. But the Doctor recognized the person at the door just from her voice. It was Mrs. Black.

“Sirius,” Mrs. Potter said gently as she returned to the room, looking quite shaky, “Did your parents give you permission to visit us dear?”

Sirius looked at the floor.

She clicked her tongue. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, sounding very sad.

“Don’t make him leave, mum!” James stood up,” He hates them!”

“They’re his parents, James.”

“Sirius!” Mr. Potter called from the hall.

Sirius got up. James did too, as did Remus.

The Doctor pulled Mrs. Potter aside, “She abuses them,” he whispered bluntly.

The woman looked rather sick. “We have no proof. She’s his mother.”

“I know.”

The Doctor moved towards the hall to follow the others, only for Mrs. Potter to pull him back. “I don’t know what you did to trick them into thinking you were in their family, but if they haven’t figured it out by now…”

“It’s fine, I’ll handle it –”

“You will not,” She whispered sharply, “Please if not for your own, but for Sirius’s sake, stay out of sight. The last thing he needs is to see his friend attacked –”

The Doctor looked up at her. “But then we’d have proof.”

“No. Absolutely not –”

“It’s the only way –”

“I won’t allow it.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mrs. Potter, but I don’t need your permission.”

The Doctor moved to run into the hallway, only for a bolt of light to shoot out of Mrs. Potter’s wand and formed a silver circle around where the Doctor stood. Frowning, he went to step over it, only for it to force him back like a forcefield, leaving him no more than a square meter’s worth of space to move within.

“I’m sorry, John,” She said, “But I will not allow you to put yourself in harm's way for the sake of your friend.”

She filed into the hall with the others.

Right. No wand, no Sonic…there had to be a way out. But no matter how much he tried to force it open, tried to find weak points in its defenses, the barrier would not give.

“Sirius,” the Doctor could hear Mrs. Black’s cold, sharp voice split the air, “You will come with me at once. Kreacher!” She snapped her fingers. “Go upstairs and fetch master Black’s things.”

A wizened-looking house elf scurried through the sitting room where the Doctor lay trapped, not so much as looking in the Time Lord’s direction.

“Good evening, Walburga,” Mrs. Potter said pleasantly, “May I offer you a drink? We were just about to crack out the mince pies, weren’t we, boys?”

Mrs. Black made no verbal response to her, instead directing her voice at Sirius. “Put on your cloak. We’re leaving now.”

“But mother, I –”

“Don’t you dare speak to me!”

“Mrs. Black!” The Doctor shouted, but the room suddenly got very muddled and strange and the Doctor realized that Mrs. Potter must have cast a silencing charm on the room. He was well and truly helpless.

“Walburga, why not let him stay?” He could hear Mrs. Potter trying, “I know he’s been a bit naughty, but there’s no harm done. We can have him for lunch and send him back before dinner tomorrow. They’ve all been having such a nice time together.”

Mrs. Black let out a short, crackling laugh. 

Kreatcher the house elf came scurrying down the stairs, past the Doctor once more, now with Sirius’s trunk hovering above him.

“Oi, Kreacher,” the Doctor whispered, and he could tell the house elf could hear as he saw his ears prick up. “Could you tell Mrs. Black that Horologium Black is here – I’m sure she’d like to know –”

But his words died out as Kreacher continued to pay him no mind.

“Come along, Sirius.” Mrs. Black said.

“No.” Sirius’s voice was quiet but firm. “I want to stay here with the Potters. You can’t make me –”

“SILENCIO!” Mrs. Black commanded and Sirius fell silent.

“Walburga, really!” Mr. Potter gasped, as Mrs. Potter let out a small shriek, “He’s just a boy!”

“He is my son.” Mrs. Black announced, “And he is heir to the heir to the finest house in Britain. He will learn his place. Come, Sirius.”

He could hear footsteps moving away and another CRACK and all fell silent.

The popping in his ears indicated the charm around the sitting room had been dispersed and the silver circle disintegrated into dust, allowing the Doctor to move again.

“Using a silencing charm on her own son!” Mr. Potter raved as they moved out of the doorway again, “On an underage wizard! It’s morally reprehensible!”

“She does worse than that,” Mrs. Potter said, likely recalling what the Doctor had told her.

Defeat rung through the house.

“We’ll have to make the house unplottable, Fleamont,” Mrs. Potter said suddenly, “Make it so we can’t be found – you said you were considering it after the last election. I don’t want that dreadful woman in my house ever again.”

Mr. Potter nodded darkly. “I’ll look into it in the new year. Alastor Moody owes me a favour.”

“Bedtime, boys,” Mrs. Potter said, her voice trembling. “Try not to worry too much.” She hugged James fiercely, kissing him on each cheek. Remus tried to dodge her grasp, but she grabbed him too, though he seemed exempt from the kisses. She then moved to the Doctor as the other two were ushered upstairs. She kissed him on each cheek as she had James, and pulled him into a particularly tight embrace.

“We care about you, you know that?” She whispered. “And we don’t want you putting yourself in danger, even if it’s to help your friend.”

“I can take care of myself,” the Doctor insisted.

“I know that.” She said, “But you shouldn’t have to.”

“I would’ve been fine,” he further insisted, getting increasingly frustrated, “Sirius might not be. You shouldn’t have stopped me. You should’ve just let me –”

“John!” Mrs. Potter said sharply, though it carried none of the cruelty that Mrs. Black’s voice had. “You are safe in this house. So long as you are here, no one is going to hurt you. Least of all yourself.”

Silence permeated the air in the room.

“Please get some sleep, John.” She finally said, “I know it’s not pleasant and I know it will be hard, but things will feel better once you’ve had some.”

The Doctor sighed, running an exhausted hand across his face.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Potter.”

“Goodnight, John.”

“Doctor!” James whisper-called as the Doctor made it up the stairs.

As he made his way into the boy’s bedroom, he saw both James and Remus on James’s bed with a piece of parchment in hand.

“Regulus sent this.” He whispered.

The Doctor looked at it. It had similar loopy handwriting to Sirius, though his was more stiff and straight, almost uncomfortably so.

Sirius is home, it read, do not try to contact him.

“That’s nice of him, all things considered.” The Doctor decided.

“Yeah, I thought they hated each other.” Remus added.

“Yeah, well they’re still brothers, aren’t they?” James replied. “Family ties and all that.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“I think he will,” the Doctor determined for the both of them. Sirius is strong. He’s resilient. He’ll make it out. And when he does, we’ll ensure he never goes back again.”

No one wanted to argue with him, no matter how unsure they were.

“I never got to give him his present,” James said quietly, “He said he never gets anything Christmassy from his lot, just family heirlooms and stuff.”

“I had a go at him the other day,” Remus sighed dolefully. “About…y’know, my furry little problem.”

James chuckled, “Don’t worry about it. You two are always having a go at each other about something. Just your personalities.”

“Oh, D’you think?” Remus seemed a bit miffed by the observation.

“I told you, don’t worry about it.” James said, “Black loves an argument.”

The Doctor sighed and left them to their chatting. He allowed himself to sleep that night. And like always, he dreamed.

Chapter Text

Christmas day turned out to be a rather subdued affair, though the Potters seemed keen to make it cheerful if only for Remus and the Doctor’s sakes. The Time Lord found a bulging stocking at the foot of his bed when he awoke, as did Remus when they compared gifts. Remus even tried to return a beautiful set of quills on the insistence that it was far too nice, though the Potters promised they’d gotten the same set for James, Sirius, and the Doctor, so it was really no bother.

The Doctor’s haul consisted mostly of books about the thermodynamics of potion making, as well as the interesting connection between divination magic and psychology. It was…concerningly observant, though there was always a chance they just picked out the most complicated-looking title and hoped for the best. Either way it was heartsbreakingly considerate. However, he did find himself feeling a bit sick as he pulled out a brand new pair of pajamas, knowing the last pair he'd gotten for Christmas was still sitting in the bottom of the trunk labeled 'Rose.'

The Potter’s extended family began arriving for Christmas Lunch at about midday, as well as the Pettigrews, who brought Philomena, Peter’s older sister, and the Muggle boyfriend she’d brought back from University.

About halfway through the party, the Doctor moved over to find an older wizard talking to Remus.

“Lupin, you say? Not Lyall Lupin’s boy?”

Remus let out a gasp, before stumbling out, “Um…yes.”

“Is he here?” the wizard grinned, looking around, “Excellent fellow, haven’t seen him in years.”

“Er…he’s dead.” Remus replied with an apologetic shrug.

“Damn shame!” The wizard cried, spilling some of his drink, “Fine duller; taught me everything I know about boggarts. Temper did tend to get him into trouble though – I told him not to mess about with that Greyback chap – bloody werewolves, ought to exterminate the lot of them!”

“Right!" The Doctor swooped in, grabbing Remus by the arm and gently leading him away from the man, "Well, as much as I’m sure Remus would love to talk with you about genocide, I actually need him to help me with rewiring the upstairs heating, so if you don’t mind.”

"What a great idea, John," Mr. Potter seemed to have pinpointed the conversation as well and had been making his way over from across the room, "Would you like another drink, my good man? It's been far too long –" He led him in the opposite direction of the two children.

Remus and the Doctor moved upstairs and played chess in silence.

“You’re not a monster, you know that, right?” The Doctor eventually broke the silence.

“Yeah, I – I know…it’s just…that was…”

“A lot,” The Doctor nodded. “I know it hurts, but he’s ignorant. He’s afraid. Nothing breeds cruelty like fear and ignorance.”

“Yeah.”

He looked over at him, “Do you really think we’d all be here with you if you were a monster?”

Remus’s gaze dropped to his lap. “Maybe you don’t know better.”

“Remus, believe me when I say I really do. Trust me."

Their eyes finally met and Remus nodded. “I’ll…I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Peter, James, Remus, and the Doctor arrived promptly at King’s Cross to return to Hogwarts on the Saturday before term began. The Doctor all but sprinted around the station in search of their fifth. But Sirius was not there. Nor was Regulus.

As the train pulled out of the platform, the Doctor managed to find someone to ask.

“It’s none of your business,” Narcissa hissed, wand in hand. “It’s a family matter.”

“I’m sure it is, really, I am. But I just…” He hesitated as he tried to calculate the best way to go about this. “We’re on the same side, Narcissa,” he finally went with. “We’re trying to find a way to get both of you out of this marriage, but we need him to help plan –”

“Stay out of it, Smith.” Narcissa snarled, but she didn't move to curse him.

“But he’s safe, isn’t he? He’s alive?”

Narcissa eased up slightly, perhaps if just for the knowledge that his friends didn’t know if he was alive or dead.

“He’s alive,” She relented. “He’ll be fine.”

The Doctor raised his hands in surrender, “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Then why are you still here?” Her voice was demanding, clearly a warning that if he didn’t leave now he’d find out just how many curses she knew. But the Doctor didn’t make any move to leave, deciding he could push it further.

“I want to work with you, Narcissa,” the Doctor said, “You’re close with your family. You know their preferences, their motivations –”

“Narcissa says it’s none of our business.” The Doctor said, walking back into the compartment, a hand over his nose where a large boil was beginning to form.

“Maybe they’re using the floo network,” Peter guessed, “Maybe his mum didn’t trust him to get on the train with us.”

“Could do,” the Doctor said, rubbing his sore nose.

James was staring out the window, looking downright distraught about the loss.

“She did tell me that Sirius is all right,” the Doctor went on, “Said he’s alive, that he’ll be fine.”

“Alive,” James demanded, “Is that all? Is that good enough for you?”
“No,” the Doctor said firmly, “It’s not. But right now, it’s all we’ve got.”

“I hate this.” James finally said.

“Yeah,” the Doctor sighed, “I do too.”

Sirius was nowhere to be found at dinner that evening, nor did he appear by the time they were getting ready for bed. The Doctor, James, and Remus had brought his Christmas presents back for him and piled them on top of his pillow, still wrapped bright shiny paper and ribbon. Three of the packages were from Andromeda, very clearly albums, judging by the shape.

The four boys went to bed silently that night.

On Sunday morning, the bed was still empty and the Doctor felt like he was going to tear his hair out. He’d never been good at being patient, but this…with nothing he could do but take Narcissa’s word and hope Sirius was okay…he just needed to sneak out of the castle, then he could get back to the TARDIS – there had to be some record of the Black’s family home, if not now or in the past, but perhaps in the future…

Rage, frustration, and desperation was pooling to the point that even James, who shared in these feelings, appeared to find himself wary of him, but no one seemed to know how to comfort him.

By the end of the day on Sunday, he’d asked Professor McGonagall if she knew anything about it (she didn’t), asked Professor Slughorn if he’d heard anything (he hadn’t), tried to ask Narcissa a second time (she cursed him again), been caught on six separate occasions trying to sneak into Professor Dumbledore’s office (he was busy), and been caught on twelve different occasions trying to sneak out of the school (“Really, John, I thought you were better than this.”).

It was only when he threw his bedside table on the ground in a fit of rage that any of the other Marauders finally said something.

To his mild surprise, it was James who spoke up, “Doctor, you’ve got to calm down.”

“I promised him,” the Doctor snarled, “I swore he’d never have to go back to that place. And he’s there, and there’s nothing I can bloody do.”

“Doctor,” James said a bit more quietly, “You’re really scaring us.”

The Doctor found his motions slowing slightly, “I…I’m sorry, James," he said, suddenly very gentle. “I never meant to scare any of you."

“Yeah, we know." James sighed, dropping down on the Doctor’s bed, the Time Lord following suit.

"I just…I’m not used to being unable to do anything.”

James shook his head and sighed, “You’ve got problems, mate.”

The Doctor sighed, "I know."

It was in the evening, hours after lights out, that the Doctor heard the creaking of the door and Sirius’s familiar footfalls on the ground. He all but jumped out of bed.

“Sirius –”

“I just want to sleep, Doctor,” Sirius whispered quietly. “We’ll speak tomorrow, okay?”

The Doctor took a deep breath. Sirius was okay. He was here, he wasn’t critically injured or dying. He could let it go for one night.

“Okay,” he relented.

As he lay back down in his own bed, he could hear Remus release a heavy breath, indicating that he hadn’t been the only one too anxious to sleep. But they would both just have to wait.

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, the Doctor could hear the soft padding of footsteps slipping off of Sirius’s bed and out the door. The Doctor didn’t follow him.

His presents lay, pushed to the end of his bed, unopened. His trunk had arrived during the night, his broom back on its shelf.

This seemed to excite the others, though the Doctor could feel dread pooling in his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Sirius didn’t come for breakfast. Nor did they see him at all until their first lesson.

“He wouldn’t miss McGonagall,” James said confidently as they pressed towards the classroom, “He loves Transfiguration.”

However, when they entered the room, they were all in for a shock. There was another boy sitting in Sirius’s seat. He was smallish and hunched over, with pale, pointed features and big blue eyes. His hair was shorn close to his scalp, just the same way Remus’s always was at the start of the school year.

“Sirius,” the Doctor recognized.

The boy coloured slightly, looking straight ahead as if he hadn’t seen them at all.

“Sirius,” the Doctor beat James to the seat beside him by a fraction of a second, “Are you all right –”

“Later,” he murmured.

The Doctor quietly extracted himself from James’s seat and allowed the boy to sit next to his friend. The classroom was filling up now, and everyone seemed to be whispering behind their backs, though a sharp scowl from the Doctor shut them up quickly enough.

Professor McGonagall didn’t call on Sirius once to answer a question, even though it was usually the only way she could get him to pay attention. Nor did she bother any of the other Marauders. As class ended, they packed up their things and followed Sirius, who was hurrying out the door.

“What happened?” James asked, trying to keep up with Sirius’s brisk clip.

“I said later,” Sirius returned, “Wait until break, okay?”

“But you – what did she…?”

“I’m fine.”

The next lesson, History of Magic, was agony. James was beside himself and even resorted to passing notes to Sirius – who steadfastly ignored them, sitting stiffly with his back straight, eyes on the board.

The Doctor mostly kept himself in check, though was fully aware he was more likely than not emanating concern and anxiety.

They couldn’t get out of History of Magic fast enough – James grabbed Sirius’s arm and practically marched him outside to the nearest courtyard where they chased away a group of first year girls who were doing handstands against the wall. It was icy cold out, though no snow had fallen yet, the sky was paper white and a storm was on its way. Once the Doctor confirmed that the coast was clear, James and Sirius stared each other down, eyes full of feeling, deep creases in their brows.

“What happened?”

Sirius sighed heavily.

“What’s it look like?” He gestured at his head.

“Your mum did that?”

“Well, I didn’t do it myself, did I?” He snapped angrily, though James didn’t react.

Sirius rooted through his bag and pulled out his red Gryffindor hat, which had so far never been worn. He crammed it over his shorn head, “Bloody freezing.” He muttered, “Dunno how you cope, Lupin.”

Remus smiled and shrugged, seemingly pleased to be acknowledged. Indeed, this seemed like something between Sirius and James, like that of their nightly chats.

“They let me come back,” he said quietly, “They almost didn’t – one wrong move and they’ve promised to send me to Durmstrang.”

James and Peter gasped, the Doctor frowned and made a note to ask James about it later.

Sirius continued, “Didn’t get my voice back until Christmas dinner. Had to play my part for that; everyone was there, all of the sacred twenty-eight – except the Weasley’s, obviously. Lucius Malfoy really bloody hates me now, but he had to be really nice to me and Reg – slimy creep. Got away with wearing my Gryffindor tie until mum noticed and vanished it. Then I…I um…I may have set off a few dung bombs during the fourth course.

The Doctor, Peter, Remus, and James all winced collectively.

“I’ll take it, that's why the hair…” the Doctor gestured a snipping motion.

Sirius winced and nodded, “She said seeing as the usual punishments weren’t having any effect. she’d try something different…I tried to get Pomfrey to grow it back for me, but the old bitch said she wasn’t a beautician. Thought I’d done it myself or by accident or something.”

“You could tell her –” Remus started.

Sirius shook his head. “Not worth it.”

“And is Regulus back too?” The Doctor asked, “He sent us a note to let us know you got home, but we never heard anything else.”

Sirius nodded. 

“Yeah, he’s back. Kept his hair, obviously. Dad sorted out a portkey into Hogsmeade. He’s still…y’know, a bit of a tosser, but…he didn’t choose to be a Black either. He just plays the game better than I do.” He looked past them all, his eyes wide and desperate. “I just wish…”

But whatever he had to say vanished as the bell rang and they all made their way back to their lessons.

Everyone in school knew about Sirius’s new look by the end of their first day back. The Doctor and James took to walking on either side of him through the corridors like bodyguards, shooting daggers at anyone who dared snigger or whisper as they passed.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” James assured him, watching Sirius stare at himself in the mirror. They were hiding in the empty second floor girls’ loo’s during lunch to avoid any more staring.

James was lying and Sirius likely knew it. Sirius looked so much smaller now, and without the dark hair framing his face, his eyes appeared larger than ever, making him look young and anxious. His high cheekbones and sharp eyebrows stood out more than ever, giving him a mean, gaunt sort of look.

Sirius rubbed his head, still watching his reflection.

Peter laughed nervously, “You look like Lupin.”

James nodded, eyes darting between the two of them, “Yeah, you do a bit.”

Sirius looked at Remus, and for the first time since Christmas Eve, the Doctor saw him smile.

“Oh yeah, I think I see it,” Sirius said, still rubbing his head. He reached out and pulled Remus into the mirror’s frame so that they stood side by side, staring at each other. “We could be brothers.”

Remus laughed too, and for a moment, everything was all right.

Sirius’s actual brother was waiting outside the Gryffindor common room later that evening. He was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up, staring into space. His hair was still long enough to touch his shoulders. His friend, Barty Crouch, was leaning against the opposite wall, looking bored. He had made a paper aeroplane and was directing it lazily up and down the hallway with his wand. It seemed that Barty and Regulus were as inseparable as James and Sirius were.

Regulus stood up smoothly as the Marauders approached.

“There you are,” the younger boy said, a tremor of nervousness in his otherwise arrogant tone. His eyes kept flicking towards James and the Doctor, Barty’s paper plane began circling them all like a vulture.

“What d’you want?” Sirius asked.

“Just seeing if you’re…seeing how you are.”

“No different from last night.” Sirius shrugged.

“I didn’t see you at dinner.”

“Wasn’t at dinner.” Sirius replied unhelpfully. They’d sent Peter down to the kitchens to pinch some sandwiches and sat in one of the hidden alcoves that Remus had found. 

“Can I talk to you?” Regulus addressed his older brother.

Sirius spread his arms, as if giving Regulus the floor. Regulus rolled his eyes, irritated. “I mean alone,” he said, shooting looks at James, Peter, Remus, and the Doctor.

“No.” Sirius said simply. Remus sighed, clearly knowing Sirius too well to try and argue.

Barty Crouch’s paper plane began spinning faster over their heads. Peter was watching its progress anxiously.

“Fine.” Regulus said, folding his arms. “I just wanted to let you know that mother and father asked me and Narcissa to watch you and report back to them.”

Sirius made a noise of disgust. Regulus continued, not dropping his gaze, “And we’re not going to. We’re both staying out of it, okay?”

“How noble of you.” Sirius replied.

Regulus rolled his eyes again.

“I’m telling you I’m not your enemy, idiot. Nor is Narcissa. You can do whatever you like, that’s between you and our parents.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

The two brothers continued to stare each other down.

From the corner of his eye, the Doctor could see the paper plane suddenly dive bomb towards the smallest of the Marauders – it was clear he'd grown bored of the family drama.

“Bombarda Minima,” The Doctor smoothly flicked his wand and watched as the plane exploded midair. "So," he said, "if that's it, then…"

The Doctor and Regulus stared each other down before the latter finally scowled and gestured to his friend, “Let’s go.”

As they both set off back towards the dungeons he called, “Narcissa said to tell you good luck for Sunday, Potter!” before turning the corner.

James ignored him and the four boys followed Sirius through the portrait hole. Once they were in the common room, Remus asked,

“What’s Saturday?”

“Quidditch match,” James replied, “Gryffindor vs Slytherin.”

Ah, yes. The Doctor had never been all that great at keeping track of the matches.

“I hope you thrash ‘em, mate.” Sirius growled, throwing himself into the nearest armchair.

“Plan to,” James said jovially, sitting on the arm of the chair. “S’long as she doesn’t get the snitch too early – and Marlene’s the best beater we’ve had in years, so –”

James stopped short, realizing what he’d said. He looked at Sirius.

Sirius groaned and stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

He took his leave. After a few moments, the Doctor followed him up.

“Can’t you just leave me alone for ten minutes –”

“You know why they did this to you, right?” The Doctor asked bluntly.

“Yeah," he said obviously, "to punish me –”

“No,” the Doctor said, “Well yes, but it’s more than that.” He took a breath, “They’re trying to take your identity, Sirius.”

“Yeah, well I already know that –”

“I’ve seen this many times before,” He continued seriously. “This happens all the time in military and prison systems – they shave your head to take away your control over yourself. They want to steal your individuality, autonomy, your ability to distinguish yourself from others. They want to take away what makes you you.”

He moved closer to his friend, “So don’t let them. Because the moment you do, they win.”

Sirius gave his friend a very sincere look, something defiant sparkling in his eyes.

“I won’t, Doctor.”

“Get some rest, Sirius.”

“I will.”

Chapter Text

It had snowed overnight and the Gryffindor common room was buzzing with excitement about the game. The Doctor, Remus, and Peter had spent all morning attempting to cast long-lasting warming spells on James’s Quidditch gear. The moment James found out that the Doctor had succeeded in this feat, he paraded him through the Gryffindor dormitory to each and every team member (and the alternates, just in case) to warm their equipment too.

Sirius had done one of his early morning vanishing acts again and was nowhere to be seen.

Adil Deshmakh, the Gryffindor team captain, made the team eat together at breakfast, though James looked like the only one in a good mood as everyone else sat there, pale and tired as they ate porridge and fruit (on Adil’s orders).

“Where’s Sirius?” Lily yawned as she took a seat to the right of Remus.

“Not sure,” the Doctor said off-handedly.

“Sulking somewhere, probably.” Peter said bitterly. Remus gave him a sharp look. “What?” The blond haired boy frowned indignantly. “He calls me whiny all the time.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but notice that Peter tended to be a little more vocal whenever James and Sirius weren’t around. More argumentative. He had more opinions. A part of him wondered if Professor McGonagall was trying to separate the wrong person from their group.

“He’ll be here,” Remus said firmly. “He wants to see us destroy the Slytherins.”

Lily grinned at this. Despite her usual pleas for inter-house unity, today she was decked out in red and gold from head to toe, just like everyone else (yes, even the Doctor decked to the nines in red and gold face paint).

After breakfast, the Doctor, Remus, Peter, and Lily all walked out to the pitch together, the Gryffindor quarter of which was covered in red and gold flags and streamers, as well as four large banners displaying the golden Gryffindor lion. Thankfully, someone had also cleared the snow from the benches.

Still, Sirius was nowhere to be found.

The two teams eventually emerged from their changing rooms and gathered on the pitch in two neat rows – one scarlet and one emerald. The Doctor could see Narcissa black on the opposing team – it was no wonder the comment Regulus had made the previous night.

“Of course,” Peter blathered to Lily, “We don’t actually need to win this one, we just need to keep our points up – as long as we finish with at least six goals then we stay at the top of the league. Black’s a brilliant seeker, but Slytherin overall are pretty poor. Especially when you look at James, having him’s like having three chasers in one.”

Lily was nodding along politely at Peter as Madam Hooch blew her whistle below them, and the players mounted their brooms, squatting ready for kick off.

Still no Sirius.

Perhaps Peter was right, perhaps he was off sulking somewhere. Maybe the Quidditch rejection was still bothering him. But…would that really stop him from supporting James? He’d been at every match the entire year, through rain and snow. Could it be that because this match was against Slytherin?

Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and released the snitch. The players shot into the air like red and green cannonballs.

Still no Sirius.

Peter and Lily were on their feet and cheering with everyone else. Remus was too, though he looked significantly less energized.

James had possession of the quaffle within seconds of being in the air, and had it through the hoop in under a minute. The red crowds exploded with triumph, but were quickly overshadowed by a deafening noise like a clap of thunder.

“Rrrrrroooooaaaaar!”

“What was that?” Lily stared about, wide eyed, along with everyone else. Even the players on the pitch looked startled. The Doctor looked up only to see that the lions in the Gryffindor banners above them appeared to have come to life and were now prowling back and forth across the red material, growling and tossing their heads restlessly.

“Is that normal?” Remus asked, pointing.

The Doctor shrugged and looked to Peter and Lily, who both shook their heads, looking speechless themselves as the enormous lions roared above them.

“Look!” Remus suddenly shouted, grinning and pointing towards the bottom of the spectator’s stands nearest to the ground. It was there that a young Gryrffindor in bright red robes was stalking back and forth, waving his wand like a conductor’s baton.

Sirius Black donned an enormous golden wig like that of a lion’s mane, and the Doctor could even see a golden tail dragging behind from under his robes.

Once everyone had seen him, the crowds laughed – even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. But Slytherin did not – the green coloured portion of the crowd merely glared at the garish show of house pride.

James was clearly not distracted by the new mascots, but instead encouraged by them – which must have been Sirius’s intention. He scored at least three more goals – resulting in three more ear-splitting roars – while the Slytherins struggled to recover from the surprise.

“We are Gryffindor!” Sirius was chanting, his voice magically amplified.

“Mighty Mighty Gryffindor!” The crowd screamed back.

For the rest of the game, James was a blur on the pitch, darting this way and that – though the other chasers were very good too, managing to keep up with his complicated formations and passes. Marlene, bat in hand, was doing a frankly stunning job of not only protecting the chasers and seeker, but aiming bludgers at the other team – Narcissa in particular.

Narcissa Black, however, was in a league of her own. She had an elegant, smooth flying style that was incredibly polished and professional-looking – he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the most formal technique out there. She was quick and always moving. The Gryffindor seeker was following her movements, hoping she would lead him to the snitch, but she kept dodging and making false turns to confuse him – twice sending him directly into the path of a bludger. She wasn’t showy like James was, but ruthless and efficient.

Gryffindor had a one hundred point lead when Narcissa finally saw the snitch – the Doctor could tell the moment it happened. He’d seen enough sports matches to recognize the signs. Her posture changed, she became laser-focused, not looking away for even a second. She hovered for a few moments, glancing behind her to see where the Gryffindor seeker was. He was hanging back, unsure what she was planning.

At that very moment, Maisy Jackson, one of the Gryffindor chasers, scored another goal, bringing Gryffindor’s score up to 130 against Slytherin’s 20. The Gryffindors went wild, and Sirius waved even more enthusiastically. The lions not only roared this time, but leapt clear through the banners, out into the winter air, where they became strange golden shadows striding across the pitch. The Gryffindor seeker dived to dodge them, clearly terrified, though they vanished just above his head.

“No, you idiot!” Sirius's voice echoed over the cheering.

But it was far too late – Narcissa had taken advantage of her opponent’s distraction and scooped up the snitch. She flew above the crowds, holding it aloft triumphantly. The Slytherin crowd finally burst into applause, sending up green and silver sparks as they cheered.

“Black, Black, Black!”

Of course, this was highly confusing, as the Gryffindors were also chanting;

“Black, Black, Black!”

As Sirius took his bows before the crowd, James swooped down to land beside him and ruffled his friend’s ridiculous mane as the crowd now chanted, “Pot-ter! Pot-ter! Pot-ter!”

“Oh well,” Peter grinned up at Remus and the Doctor. “We lost, but we’re still tied with Ravenclaw in the league table – still going through to the final!”

The three of them exchanged an enthusiastic look as they ran to the pitch to congratulate their team – Remus and Peter both punched Sirius playfully as the Doctor beamed at him from behind.

“You never told us!” Peter cried.

“We could have helped!” Remus agreed.

Sirius just smirked and tossed his glorious golden hair.

“Sirius!” A thin, cold voice broke through the crowd. They all turned to find Narcissa striding towards them, still in her billowing emerald robes, a bright silver medal hanging around her neck. Remus and Peter both shrunk behind the Doctor. Sirius stood to face her. She gave him an unexpected smirk, “Take off that obscene wig.” She said sharply.

He complied, rubbing his bare head self-consciously.

Narcissa pulled out her wand with one sweeping motion. The Doctor almost moved to get between them in fear of her cursing him, until he heard the spell that uttered from her lips as she went to tap his head, “Crescere.” To grow.

The crowd of Gryffindors around them all gasped as Sirius’s hair began to grow, like black water tumbling from his head, until it was back to its usual length.

“What the –?” Sirius grabbed his head.

Narcissa grinned, showing rows of pearly teeth, “That’s for your help in ensuring a Slytherin victory.”

With that, she turned, silver plaits whipping around, and flounced off towards her own team.

James tugged on Sirius’s newly restored tresses.

“I’m never going to understand your bonkers family, mate.”

After the landmark that was the Gryffindor vs. Slythering game, everything felt like it was back to what had somehow fallen into normal. James was once again the hero, Sirius’s rebellious streak was back in full force, Peter was no longer treading on eggshells around either of them, Remus looked about to tear his hair out without any peace and quiet but had never looked happier, and the Doctor was back to trying and failing to act human as James got increasingly suspicious of his “strangeness.”

As if trying to make up for lost time, James and Sirius tore through the final weeks of winter with a renewed zest for pranks and mischief. They spent half their time under the invisibility cloak, casting (harmless) hexes at unsuspecting students in the halls, raiding the kitchens, and causing an upset in the dining hall. At least three or four nights a week they, alongside the Doctor and occasionally Peter, crept out with Remus’s map to plot the castle – though more often than not ended up making a detour at Honeydukes instead, returning to the dormitory with armfulls of sweets.

The Doctor kept a close eye on Remus during the January and February full moons. 

He didn’t try to sneak out again. 

These full moons didn’t seem as bad as the prior December, which had left Remus so massively scarred, but he still walked with obvious pains in the following days of each. After bombarding Madam Ponfrey with suggestions, she finally relented and began telling the Doctor some of the things they’d already been trying – Apparently vanishing Remus’s fingernails (temporarily, of course) had done nothing to stop his claws coming out, and securing his arms and legs with magical manacles had only caused him to dislocate both his shoulders in order to break free.

Remus appeared to be throwing himself into his studies this year, even managing to surpass the Doctor in a number of classes. Lily still came at the top of Charms, and the Doctor’s marks never so much as stumbled in Potions. As such, the Doctor and Remus would often go down to the library together.

Today was not one of those days.

James, Sirius, and Peter were out working on the map as the Doctor was flipping through a series of books in the dormitory when Remus returned, bursting the door open in frustration and storming over to his bed where he collapsed.

The Doctor gave him a few seconds before walking across the room and gently sitting on the bed next to him.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” Remus tried lying at first. 

They sat in silence before the boy eventually spoke up again.

“Lily knows. About my…problem. With reading, I mean.”

The Doctor hummed sympathetically, frowning all the while. “What did she say?”

“Thought the spell was cool,” He admitted, fidgeting his fingers, “Was impressed with me for using it. Was impressed with Sirius for figuring it out.”

“So what’s bothering you?”

“Dunno,” Remus kicked his feet, “Just frustrating, innit? Not being able to read. Even if I can with…you know…magic. It’s not the same. Why can’t I do this one thing everyone else can do?”

The Doctor could hear that anger creeping back into the boy’s voice. He just looked so utterly infuriated. As he nodded along silently, the Time Lord considered what to say. He’d tried to explain dyslexia to the boy before, but that hadn’t seemed to help all that much. But there was something else he could say. Something he knew Remus would be more responsive to. Something a bit more…personal.

“Did I ever tell you that I can’t read either, Remus?”

Remus’s whole body froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You… what?”

The Doctor wrung his hands, “Not – not particularly well, at least – it isn't quite the same as you, but I never learned English where I’m from.”

“But…but you’re talking English now, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes – I can speak it somewhat fine, if with a limited vocabulary. And I might be able to write in it at a push. But there’s a…” he struggled for the right way to explain it, “…a spell that makes it sound like I’m speaking English to all of you, that makes it look like the words I write are English words. But they’re not.”

“Is that why you don’t sound Irish?” The words seemed to blurt from his mouth without really thinking.

The Doctor’s mouth quirked upwards, “Yes, well, that’s one reason.”

Remus watched the Doctor in wonder, as if something finally clicked within him.

“You can’t…you can’t read normally either.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Can you show me what it looks like?” Remus asked tentatively, “Your language, I mean. Can you pause the spell and show me?”

The Doctor frowned, “You know you won’t be able to read it, right?”

“I know,” Remus said shyly, “and you don’t have to if you don’t want – I was just wondering…”

Slowly and hesitantly, the Doctor pulled a quill, ink, and a piece of parchment from Remus’s nightstand. He closed his eyes for a moment, delving deep into the back of his mind and severing his link with the translation circuits. After a long moment, he began to draw out long, curled, overlapping circles.

When he finally picked his quill back up, he was left with a series of beautiful interlocking circles and shapes, almost 3D in nature, too holy and meaningful for the bland parchment it sat upon that, if looked at it too long, the parchment would seem to have disappeared as it was cast in the shadow of the awe-inducing glow.

Remus said something that was far too fast for the Doctor to understand, voice full of awe and captivation. Instead of asking him to repeat it, the Time Lord took another moment to link himself back to the translation circuits before gesturing for Remus to repeat himself.

“What does it say?” Remus said again, a bit slower this time.

“It’s a name,” the Doctor admitted. “My…” He choked. “It was a great state secret once. But it doesn’t really matter now – there’s no one left to hide it from.”

“Who was it?” Remus breathed.

He was so lost in memory that he didn’t even register as the words slipped from his lips. “My granddaughter.”

Remus sat in contemplation for a moment, yet didn’t speak up. Despite his untrusting nature, he didn’t argue or accuse the Time Lord of lying. But after a stretch of silence, he finally spoke.

“It’s beautiful.”

The Doctor released a wistful smile, “Isn’t it just?”

“It’s nice to know…y'know…that you get it.” Remus said.

“I do,” the Doctor promised, attempting to withdraw himself from the memories that attempted to engulf him. “And your friends do too – anyone who deserves your time and thought will. Everyone else, they can go eat a Dalek.”

“Eat a… what?”

The Doctor smiled as he heard the rest of the Marauders clambering back into the common room downstairs. The way Remus’s head slightly tilted implied that he could probably hear them too.

Footsteps made their way up the stairs.

“Hey, Doctor?” Remus said.

“Yes?”

“Thanks for…for trusting me enough to tell me that. I promise I won’t tell the others.”

The Doctor smiled. “Thank you, Remus.”

With that, the other three Marauders burst through the door.

“You’ll never guess what Honeydukes just got stocked!”

With Lily now in the loop, the Doctor and Remus were soon quite often joined in the library not only by her, but also by her friends Marlene and Mary. Remus appeared quite anxious about this at first, but he soon relaxed as he found that the girls took their studies just as seriously as he did.

He seemed to take particularly well to Mary who was a muggleborn from south London. She was unpretentious and had a broad smile and a loud, infectious laugh. Whilst Marlene was slightly quieter, she was also incredibly funny and able to mimic almost anyone in school – including teachers. Her Professor McGonagall was, even by the Doctor’s standards, quite spectacular.

The three girls were also exceptionally kind to Remus. The Doctor suspected this was likely because they thought he was ill, though the boy never seemed to mind as he was learning plenty of interesting things from them. Mary had a spell for covering blemishes, which didn’t completely vanish his scars, but noticeably reduced their appearance – even the Doctor would've never thought to look into a beauty magazine for a solution.

As it turned out, Mary had a crush on Sirius, and Marlene had one on James. Remus seemed to think this was utterly ridiculous ("I doubt they'd feel the same way if they had to share a bathroom with them.").

In return, Remus helped the girls with History of Magic, a subject which they all appeared to struggle in enjoying due to Professor Binns’ monotone voice and dull teaching style.

After a few days of this, the Doctor began showing up to these study sessions less and less. Remus didn’t need his company anymore – he was starting to properly make friends outside the Marauders.

It was Tuesday evening when Remus made his way back into the common room, Marlene, Mary, and Lily behind him. The two former burst into a fit of giggles as they spotted the Doctor, Sirius, James, and Peter huddled in a corner, pouring over a particularly large book.

They looked up as Remus approached, Peter very conspicuously covering the book with some sheets of parchment.

“Alright lads?” Remus said, craning his neck, “What you doing?”

“Nothing!” James said brightly, “Where’ve you been?”

“In the library,” Sirius stared before Remus could so much as open his mouth, “with his fan club.”

Remus smirked.

“Piss off, Black, I know when you’re jealous.” He looked between them, frowning, “Seriously, what are you hiding there?”

“It’s for your birthday,” the Doctor lied smoothly. “We’re planning a surprise.”

Remus frowned, squinting at him skeptically.

“All right,” he said, “Well you’d better not be planning to embarrass me like last year.”

“Oh no, never!” Sirius grinned, standing up and gathering the book to his chest. “Are we the sort of friends that would embarrass you, Lupin?”

“Yeah, you are.” Remus nodded. “So no singing, no big parties, nothing that’s going to –”

“Get you into trouble, we know,” James finished, standing up too. “Hey, why don’t we invite your new friends, eh? Do us good to mix with the fairer sex, don’t you think?”

“Right,” Sirius tossed his hair, “More like you want a chance to get Evans on her own.”

“How dare you.” James replied, cheeks slightly pinker than usual.

Ah, humans. They never change.

“Remus!” The Doctor burst into the library where Remus, Marlene, Mary, and Lily were studying.

They were all on their feet in seconds as the Doctor continued, “You’ve got to see what I’ve found.”

The Doctor led him into the trophy room, the three girls behind them.

“I found it when I was looking through the Black family history.”

Remus looked up and stared at the huge trophy case that was filled with hundreds of awards for different achievements. Wizard Chess Champion, Triwizard Tournament Victor, Droobles Best Bubble Gum Blowing Finalist.

And there, in the case, was a massive golden statuette depicting a wizard raising his wand in a triumphant stance. Lyall Lupin, it read, Hogwarts Duelling Champion, 1946.

Remus stared at it for a long while. The girls eventually sheepishly leaving the room to give him some space.

“Do you want to hold it?” The Doctor asked.

Remus nodded silently.

The Doctor pulled out the Sonic and the case opened with a light click. He removed the trophy and placed it gently in the boy’s hands.

“My Dad probably touched this trophy.” It was a silly realization, but a meaningful one nonetheless.

“He probably did,” the Doctor agreed.

Gently, Remus lowered it back into the case and the Doctor closed and locked it again.

“Thank you.” Remus said sincerely.

“You’re welcome, Remus.”

Chapter Text

As the weeks wore on, the Doctor found himself under more than just the eye of James. Remus was watching him rather intently as well.

They hadn’t much spoken about what had happened those nights ago. The Doctor had tried to brush off the comment about his granddaughter with a poorly-made joke that hadn’t hit quite right, and while Remus had nodded along, the Doctor would be surprised if Remus had actually believed him.

The Time Lord had been somewhat unsure what to think of the boy’s non-reaction to such a glaring oddity in his life. He would have to keep an eye on it.

Fortunately, he had the perfect distraction away from himself – Remus’s birthday. It had landed on a Saturday this year, which James and Sirius were more than enthusiastic about, as this opened up the day to all sorts of excitement that would simply not be possible on a weekday (James had grabbed the Doctor aside to begin planning a gift immediately).

Safe to say everyone went to bed that evening almost too excited to sleep.

It was nearly ten when the Doctor heard a disturbance.

Remus stuck his head through the Time Lord’s curtains.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor gestured for the boy to join him and Remus scrambled through, waving his wand and murmuring a muffling charm.

They sat there for a few moments, Remus looking like he wasn’t exactly sure how to begin.

“What is it, Remus?”

He anxiously picked at his fingernails, “Well, uh – remember when you told us you were a Seer?”

The Doctor frowned, this was not exactly where he thought this conversation was about to go. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

“And that’s…that’s only the future.”

The Doctor hesitated – he hated to further a lie, but this was the easiest way around the truth.

“Well, I suppose I do often get – er, glimpses of the past.”

“Oh,” Remus said, picking at the duvet, “that’s cool.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened, “Why do you ask?”

“I dunno,” He pulled a particularly long strand from the bedspread, “I just thought…I know you prob’ly can’t ‘cause Sirius said you’ve not got control, but…”

The Doctor smiled at him softly, “What do you want to know about?”

He let go of the duvet and looked up at the Time Lord.

“Did you ever see anything about my dad?”

“Remus,” the Doctor said, “I’m sorry –”

“It’s fine,” Remus insisted quickly, “I know, it’s stupid.”

“No, no, Remus, no – in no way is that stupid.”

“So you have?” Remus asked desperately, “You’ve seen my dad?”

“No – no, I’m sorry, I –”

“It’s fine – It was stupid –”

“No, it really wasn’t.”

They sat there for a moment.

“I just want to know what it’d of been like,” he finally admitted quietly, “If my dad hadn’t killed himself – if I hadn’t been bitten.”

‘What if’ is a dangerous game, Remus.”

“I know, I know,” He sighed, “I just – I keep getting these nightmares of what happened and I know I can’t stop them ‘cause you’re the smartest person I know and if you can’t stop yours –”

“I…Remus, it’s a little more complicated than that –”

“How?”

“It – it’s got nothing to do with intelligence, Remus. And if it did – well, emotionally speaking I'm not the most intelligent bloke." He hesitated, rubbing the back of his head and thinking of anything comforting to say. "It's just…you have to be patient, really.  Time doesn’t fix things – not always. Well, almost never, really. But…but it can help. I know it’s not what you want to hear – frankly, I’m not the best person to ask about this sort of thing – but you – you’ve just got to move on. If you dwell on it for too long…” He shook his head, “Don’t allow yourself to be consumed by it. Savour what you have.”

“The nightmares don’t stop, do they?”

“No.” The Doctor admitted, “Not for me. But they could for you – we could talk to Madam Pomfrey, I'm sure she'd have something –"

“What makes me different?” Remus asked, he sounded a bit affronted – as if challenging the Doctor to admit his traumas were worse. He was looking for validation – validation for being in pain.

The Doctor smiled at him softly, “Because you’re far braver than me.”

“I…what?”

“You don’t run away from your fears, Remus.”

An hour before midnight, the Doctor slipped out of his bed, silently accompanied by James, Sirius, and Peter.

After casting a muffling charm around the room and then Remus’s bed, they began their work.

It was much easier for the Doctor to wander around in the darkness, as his eyes were significantly more suited for such things, but the other three were surprisingly good as well, using the faint light from the wands to guide them as they haphazardly decorated with streamers they’d taken from the Quidditch storage for match days and strings of fairy lights that had been left over from Christmas.

By one minute past midnight, they were ready and gathered around Remus’s bed, Peter having been sent off to retrieve the surprise.

Trying to stifle their laughter, the trio removed the muffling charm from around the boy.

Silently, the three Marauders counted together.

One, two, three, “LUMOS MAXIMA!”

The dormitory filled with light and the Doctor could hear a wet gasp from the other side of the curtains. The Doctor almost pulled James and Sirius away as they went to grab for the curtains, but they ripped them open anyway as they chanted.

“Happy birthday, Lupin!”

Remus groaned, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed – the Doctor could’ve sworn he could see a slight red rim around them.

“It’s still dark out, you pricks,” He said.

“It is precisely one minute past midnight,” Sirius said, “and therefore officially your thirteenth birthday.”

“Where’s Pete?” Remus asked as he climbed out of bed in a haze, looking around at the decorations covering the walls.

“On a mission,” James said, eyes twinkling. “C’mon, up and dressed.”

Remus looked at the Doctor, “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere,” he grinned, “But you’ll want to be dressed for your surprise.”

“There’s another surprise?”

“Obviously,” Sirius said, ushering Remus towards his dresser.

Hurriedly, the birthday boy pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. By the time he’d finished, there was a sharp rap at the door.

“Come in!” James called cheerily.

The Doctor observed Remus’s wince and explained.

“We put a silencing spell on the room," he said proudly, "no need to worry about the professors hearing.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “A silencing charm?”

“Yep.”

“So, say if someone were on the other side of the door, they wouldn’t be able to hear?”

“Yep.”

Remus stared at him incredulously.

James clapped a hand over his forehead. “We’re complete idiots!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Sirius grinned back, pulling the door open.

Peter stood outside, looking very pleased and quite pink, surrounded by Lily, Marlene, and Mary. Remus gaped as they entered the room, all smiling widely and clearly thrilled that they had surprised him. They were all clutching cards and small packages too.

“I didn’t think girls were allowed in here.”

“We tested it last week – nothing bad seems to happen,” James said.

“But none of us can get into the girls’ dorms except for the Doctor.” Sirius nodded.

“Gender is a social construct,” the Doctor shrugged.

James began pulling out packages from under his bed, ripping them open to reveal mountains of Honeyduke’s sweets they’d been saving up for this very occasion. Not to mention the haul Peter had brought up with him from the kitchens – ham sandwiches, egg mayonnaise, coronation chicken, cheese and pickle, packets of Remus’s favourite flavour crisps (salt and vinegar), scotch eggs, sausage rolls, pork pies, cheese and pineapple sticks, and perfunctory fruit.

The Doctor and Sirius, meanwhile, went to lay out blankets across the floorboards, scattering a few plus velvet cushions.

“Lupin!” Sirius said with a wide smile, “Welcome to your midnight feast!”

“Happy birthday, Remus!” the girls chanted as one.

They all sat down together and Sirius settled a record onto his player – he’d eventually opened his gifts from Andromeda and, as requested, had received two Bowie albums: Hunky Dory and The Man Who Sold the World.

“Sit next to me, Sirius,” Mary said quickly, earning a reproachful look from Marlene. Sirius shrugged and acquiesced, but leaned over to hand Remus a package.

“Open this first!” He insisted.

It was a long, rather poorly wrapped, cylindrical object.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” Remus mumbled, untwisting the ends.

“A poster?” Lily furrowed her brow, watching as Remus unfurled the thick glossy paper. It was a large A2 print of David Bowie in black and white, wearing a spangly silver costume and giving a slightly jerky high kick.

“I got Andromeda to send it to me over Christmas,” Sirius grinned, unable to contain himself, “But I enchanted it to move myself!”

“Wow!” Remus smiled back sincerely, “Thanks! It’s amazing.”

The girls had all gotten him packets of sweets and cakes – and Lily gave him a book on Potions. He looked at her sceptically as she grinned,

“Can’t keep giving Severus a reason to lord it over you.”

“Please do not mention Snivellus’s name on this most sacred occasion,” James said with mock horror. Lily rolled her eyes and returned to her jam tart, conspicuously ignoring him. James seemed hardly to notice, clearing his throat and looking at Remus, his dark eyes full of wickedness, “The Doctor and I went in together on a present, but that will come later…once we’ve stuffed ourselves to bursting.”

“Oh Merlin, Potter,” Marlene giggled, “What have you got planned?”

The Doctor and James exchanged a grin, but would not tell.

The Doctor was pleased to find that Remus appeared to be quite enjoying his party, as were the other Marauders. Mary could give Sirius a run for his money when it came to barefaced cheek and, unsurprising to both the Doctor and Remus, Marlene’s impressions of the faculty had the marauders in stitches – Peter even had to go and change his shirt after snorting pumpkin juice down himself.”

“Starting to see why Remus and the Doctor have been abandoning us for you lot,” James said at about one thirty, wiping tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re not bad, for girls,” Sirius winked at Mary, who scoffed and gave him a playful shove.

“Yeah, it’s got nothing to do with us wanting to get our homework done.” Remus replied dryly.

Neither the Doctor nor Remus mentioned the Doctor’s frequent absences from such occasions.

“Oh how times have changed,” Sirius said haughtily.

“You’ll all be laughing on the other sides of your faces when Remus beats you in all our exams.” Lily quipped.

“Pah!” James got up, stretching elaborately as if about to perform some great feat, “Exams! We marauders have higher concerns. My dear Doctor,” he made a sweeping gesture towards the dorm window, “Shall we?”

“Indeed we shall,” the Doctor agreed mischievously.

Sirius and Peter stood up just as eagerly as Remus and the girls did – the Doctor and James had not even let them in on what they had planned.

James led the others to the window, flinging it open as the Doctor produced a large collection of bright red rocket-shaped objects.

“Are those…” Marlene scrunched up her nose, “Not Dr. Filibuster’s!”

The Doctor grinned maniacally.

“Oh no!” Lly said, “We’re not supposed to! You’ll wake up the whole castle!”

“Get lost if you don’t like it, Evans,” Sirius snapped, staring at the rockets in awe as the Doctor passed them out amongst the group.

“Remus,” Lily turned to him, “Tell them, they’ll listen to you!”

“No they won’t,” Remus replied, “Anyway, I want to see! I’ve never seen wizard fireworks before.”

“You’re in for a treat!” Sirius promised.

“How many do you need?” Mary asked, sounding rather impressed.

James scoffed, “Thirteen, obviously.”

“You’re all going to get in so much trouble…”

“Oh, stop being such a goody goody, Lil!” Marlene threw her arm around the redhead.

“We won’t let any of you girls get in trouble,” James said sincerely, his glasses slipping down his nose as he struggled to keep control of his cargo, “Don’t worry.”

“I’m  not worried,” Lily said defensively, “I just think you’re all being –”

“Ooops!”

*BANG*

“Peter!”

They all leaned out the window to see the rocket Peter had dropped tumbling down towards the ground in a torrent of green and gold sparks.

“Sorry…” Peter looked sheepish.

The Doctor only grinned, “Well, we might as well continue, eh?”

Sirius didn’t ask a single question, immediately hurling one into the air. James, Peter, and the Doctor quickly followed suit, and soon enough even Lily had forgotten to be annoyed as they all stared in awe at the spectacular display lighting up the starry sky.

The fireworks went on for ages, some bursting ten or twelve times before fizzling out. They changed colours from red to green to purple to orange, twisting and curling in various shapes, eventually spelling out ‘HAPPY THIRTEENTH BIRTHDAY REMU’.

“See, I told you it was too many letters,” the Doctor told James, “But did you listen? Nooo.”

As well as the dazzling light display, the fireworks were satisfactorily noisy, so much so that the Doctor could already hear the other Gryffindors in the tower opening their windows to see whether the castle was under attack.

The Doctor could hear someone from the dormitory above mutter, “Them bloody Marauders are at it again.”

Inevitably, someone began hammering at their door and Professor McGonagall’s shrill voice could be heard from the other side.

“Smith! Potter! Black! Don’t think I don’t know you’re behind this, OPEN THIS DOOR!”

The Doctor quickly ushered the girls under the bed before opening the door with a cheeky grin to reveal the professor in her red tartan nightie.

After a thorough reprimand, a promised two months of detention as well as letters home to all their parents, Professor McGonagall left them, and Marlene, Lily, and Mary reluctantly crawled out from under the beds and returned to their own dormitory.

It was two o’clock in the morning by then, and the Marauders decided it was finally time for bed.

“Happy birthday, Remus,” Peter called out, followed by a loud yawn.

“Yeah,” Sirius yawned back, “Happy birthday, Remu.”

“Happy birthday, Remu,” the Doctor and James echoed.

The Doctor could almost hear Remus’s grin as they all drifted off to sleep.

“I told Dumbledore I would do it with or without his permission,” the Doctor could hear Madam Pomfrey say, “I couldn’t live with myself if you arrived here in September in the same state as you did last year.”

It was about four o’clock in the afternoon after the full moon and Remus had missed his lessons. So the Doctor, Peter, James, and Sirius had all decided to sneak down to the hospital wing to see their friend, despite the nurse's insistence that Remus was fine and they were to return to their classes.

“I could stay at a wizard’s house this summer,” Remus tried to suggest from behind a curtain, “That would be even safer. My friend James –”

“I’m sorry, dear, it’s just not safe enough,” Madam Pomfrey said. She hadn’t noticed the rest of the Marauders yet as they slipped into the room. It’s not that they thought they wouldn’t eventually get caught, it was more that they wanted to see how close they could get to Remus before she noticed.

“The Potters did get in touch,” The magical healer went on, “But we need to preserve your anonymity for as long as we can – I know it isn’t much fun for you, but it’s better you stay with muggles.”

Peter was the closest to Remus now, however before he could reach the boy, he caught his foot on the edge of a cabinet, loudly knocking over a handful of stacked bedpans onto the floor.

“Mr. Pettigrew!” Madam Pomfrey stuck her head out from around Remus’s bed curtain, “What do you think you are doing?”

“S-s-sorry Madam Ponfrey – we were just…”

At the sound of ‘we’ she looked up and caught sight of the Doctor, James, and Sirius, all trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“Pick those bedpans up right now and put them back in the cupboard!” Madam Pomfrey snapped at Peter before looking over to the other boys, “And you can wipe that smirk off your face, Mr. Plack, give him a hand – you too, Potter!”

The Doctor managed to slink away from the group towards Remus’s curtain, pulling it open and grinning down at the boy. “‘Ello, Remus.”

Remus looked…all right. He had a good few bandages and what looked like deep bruises the healing of which had been magically enhanced to already look a few days old. He also had a new scar cutting across his left arm, but apart from that, he looked rather well – he'd certainly looked worse before.

He groaned as he made an attempt to sit up, something which caught the ears of Madam Pomfrey, who came hurriedly bustling in so she could scold him and insist he lie back down.

“You’ve had three broken bones, you silly boy,” she chastised.

“I’m feeling much better!” Remus insisted.

There was a loud crash by the cupboards.

“MR. PETTIGREW, WHAT DID I SAY?”

The Doctor and Remus were left alone for a minute.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not the best.”

“Ready to go?”

“If she’ll let me. How was the Quidditch match?”

“Brilliant – Gryffindor smashed it.”

Remus grinned and went to say something, but before he could get it out, Sirius whipped back the curtain.

“REMU!” He cried, “You’re ALIVE!” He fell dramatically at the foot of the bed, “I was convinced she was trying to cover something up, the old bat wouldn’t let us come over.”

Indeed, these last few full moons she’d been less than helpful when the boys had requested to see their friend – especially so the Doctor, who came by every day and she was forced to shoo away as he desperately came up with ideas and solutions for her.

“Don’t call her that,” Remus replied irritably, “and don’t call me that!”

“But you wanted a nickname,” Sirius said, sounding affronted as he climbed back to his feet. Peter then appeared from around the corner, looking sullen with his hands in his pockets.

“No I didn’t,” Remus frowned, “When did I ever say th –”

“Last year,” Sirius said quickly, “Almost exactly a year ago, you said you wouldn’t mind being called anything as long as it wasn’t Loony Lupin.”

“You’ve got a memory like an elephant,” Remus groaned before lowering his voice so Madam Pomfrey couldn’t hear, “Besides, the whole point of having a nickname was so no one knew who wrote the map.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure ‘Remu’ is going to fool anyone,” the Doctor agreed.

“Fair enough,” Sirius heaved a sigh, “But can we call you Remu until we come up with something better?”

“No.”

“Boring,” Sirius cast around for something else to say, conspicuously avoiding looking at Remus’s bandages – it was true, the crew tended not to talk much about the full moons and what happened during them.

“So are we going to get out of here or should we pull out a rousing game of snap?” James suggested.

“He’s not going anywhere?” Madam Pomfrey bustled in, “I’m keeping Mr. Lupin in for overnight observation.”

“No!” Remus protested, “I’m feeling much better!”

“I’m not being deliberately unkind, Remus,” the nurse sighed. “This is for your health.”

“I’ll go straight to bed!”

“We’ll look after him!” James said, earnestly standing up as the rest of the Marauders nodded eagerly behind him.

Madam Pomfrey was unmoved.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter, but no.”

“Right, then,” the Doctor shrugged, plopping himself down in one of the hard plastic seats, “Looks like we’ll be staying here tonight.”

“Yeah!” James, Sirius, and Peter all chanted in agreement.

“You’ll miss dinner!” Remus protested.

“I’m sure Madam Pomfrey can arrange something for us,” he looked over at the nurse, “Just this once, eh?”

She fought not to smile, “I suppose just this once,” She shook her head, “But you’re all to keep quiet and get on with your homework – I’m not having you using Mr. Lupin here as an excuse for not handing anything in.”

With a wave of her wand, three more chairs appeared along with a long pinewood desk, complete with inkwells for quills.

“And no, Remus!” Madam Pomfrey called before the boy could so much as open his mouth, “No homework for you. Just rest.”

Remus scowled before asking, “Can I at least read my book?”

“As long as it doesn’t strain your eyes.”

She left and the Doctor, James, Sirius, and Peter all dutifully pulled out their homework and began scribbling.

“Ah, ah, ah,” James said, covering his work with his sleeve as Remus attempted to crane his neck to see what the boy was working on, “No looking, Remu, you just rest.”

“Ugh, call me Loony!” Remus groaned, “Anything but Remu!”

“But it suits you!” Sirius said, over his quill, “Reeeeemuuuuuu.”

“Stop it or I’ll bite you.”

“Reeeeemuuuuuu.”

“Reeemuuu!” Peter joined in.

“I hate my name.” Remus covered his face with his book. “You might as well call me anything you like, I dunno what could be worse.”

“Loony Remu?” James suggested helpfully. “Remoony?”

Sirius could hardly breathe from laughing now.

“REMOONY!”

“Moony is actually quite good,” Peter suddenly said, very soberly.

“Eh?”

“Moony. As a nickname.”

The Doctor shrugged in agreement, “Remu, any thoughts?”

Remus mulled the name around in his head for a moment.

“I don’t hate it,” he finally said.

“I love it,” James said, “Moony. Suits you.”

“Won’t people…y’know,” Remus worriedly chewed on his lip, “Catch on?”

“Nah,” the Doctor said, “We’ll just tell everyone you’re a fan of Sailor Moon.”

“Of…what?”

“Sailor Moon – it’s a – wait, is it? Yes, it definitely is – 1992…No, wait, that might’ve just been the Japan release…” He frowned deeply, trying to remember. "Well, Moonies, that's what they call themselves – the fans, I mean. I had a…well, an old friend of mine, she used to…" he trailed off.

“We’ll tell them it’s after that muggle on The Who,” Sirius said, shaking his head at the Doctor.

“They’re all muggles in The Who.” Remus replied, “But I don’t play the drums.”

“You like hitting things,” Sirius shrugged.

A smile curled its way onto Remus’s face. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Remoony.”

Chapter Text

Narcissa groaned as she saw who was waiting for her outside the Slytherin dormitory.

“Just hear me out –”

“Whatever your plan is, it won’t work,” She told him.

The Doctor shook his head. “I saw you in the library yesterday.”

“So what?”

“ So I saw you checking out a book on nuptial laws –”

She scowled at him and shoved him into a hidden alcove behind a tapestry.

“We can’t speak of this in public!” She hissed out.

“Brilliant. Problem solved,” the Doctor shrugged, “Point is, I know you’ve not lost hope yet, Narcissa.”

She scowled at him. “You weren’t even born in this world, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You have no idea how accurate you are,” the Doctor promised, “But believe me when I say that I’m here to help.”

“You’re a child,” she said coldly. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Right, I know that,” the Doctor said, “But there are things you can do. Listen, you and Lucius – if you were already married –”

“I’ve already thought of that,” Narcissa snapped, “I’m not of age yet – I won’t be until October. If I was, I’d have eloped with Lucius the moment they proposed this ridiculous engagement.”

“Then run away. Wait until you’re eighteen –”

“Seventeen.” Narcissa corrected.

“Right, wait until you’re seventeen, get married, then come back.”

She shook her head, “The family will never allow it. I’d be seen as abandoning the family – I’ll be cast out.”

“Right, right,” the Doctor contemplated a moment, “So this betrothal ceremony – it’s just banquets, astrological charts, things like that, right?”

“Portraits,” Narcissa nodded, “Mother still has Bella’s hanging in the dining room.”

The Doctor felt sick thinking about a portrait depicting a thirteen year old Sirius with his sixteen year old cousin.

“Has anyone ever had an engagement ceremony and married someone else instead?”

She nodded, “A few, but if I want to stay in the family –”

“Do you?”

She looked at him incredulously. “They’re my family.”

“Yeah, I know that, but if it’s them who are trying to get you to marry your thirteen year old cousin…”

She shook her head, “I can’t. Lucius – his family will disown him too if he doesn’t get a good match, and if I’m disowned…”

“It won’t be a good match,” the Doctor nodded along. “And he…?”

“I will not get him cast out of his family for my sake.”

The Doctor didn’t respond, simply continuing his nodding as he considered this.

“What if you gave them an ultimatum?” He suggested, “Your marriage is strategic, it’s a good match. Tell them you’re planning on marrying Lucius, and if they won’t let you, you’ll elope. Surely their stubbornness isn’t –”

“That will be insubordination.” She said, “They’ll call my bluff, and if they don’t they’ll still never let the marriage happen. Consent must come from both sides of the family for the Malfoys to agree.”

“Right, right.”

“Just give it up.” She told him. “I’ll figure this out on my own.”

He smiled at her. He’d had very few conversations with her, but it was in this one in particular that he observed this lack of that harshness – Perhaps in another circumstance, in another life, Narcissa may have even been kind.

“I’m going to help you, Narcissa,” He said firmly. “Or at the very least I’m going to try.”

She regarded him oddly before finally huffing out, “Do what you want.” and pushing past him towards the Great Hall for dinner.

That was…progress?

“Oh no,” James groaned as he nearly tripped over a pile of books the Doctor had stacked at the entrance to the dormitory, “The Doctor’s reading again.”

The Time Lord frowned from his position on the bed, eight different books strewn about him, some balanced so close to the edge they looked like they were about to fall.

“I read all the time.”

“Not like this,” James insisted, “You only read like this when you’re worried about something.”

“He’s always worried about something.” Peter pointed out.

“See,” the Doctor gestured vaguely towards Peter, not moving his eye from the page.

From the corner of his vision, the Doctor watched as Remus moved towards the stacked books in the discarded pile on the floor and picked one up.

“The British Wizards Guide to Nuptial Laws 1700-1950 ?”

“Who you marrying, Doc? Sirius teased, “Not Evans, James’ll have to challenge you to a duel.”

“I do NOT fancy Evans!” James spat, moving to the books on the bed. 

“Magical Marriages,” he read, peeling one up so he could see the title without disturbing the page it had been cracked to, before looking at another, “Wizard Wedding Rituals ? Doctor, what’s all this about?”

The Doctor laughed awkwardly, glancing over at Sirius, “Well, I assume Sirius still doesn't want to get married, right?”

“Yeah, I’m working on it!”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“I am!” Sirius insisted, “I had more detentions than anyone else this year! I must get a howler a week – And my lions, don’t forget my lions at the Quidditch match.”

The Doctor frowned, “And that helps…how?”

“I’m proving that I’m not the marrying type.”

“No offence, mate,” James said, “But I don’t think your lot really care that you’re not the marrying type.”

“You’re the oldest, which means you’re the heir,” the Doctor explained, “They need you to marry another pureblood so the money stays within the high ups. And, well, it’s not unusual for your family to do inter-marriages – even your parents are cousins.”

“Er…how do you know?” Sirius looked uncomfortable.

The Doctor lifted up a book titled:  The Sacred Twenty Eight: Volume II: The House of Black. “You’re one of the oldest wizarding houses in Britain. People have written about you – tracing back to the middle ages where the family seat was in Inverness –”

“I know all of this,” Sirius waved his hand.

“You’re not the first Black to want to get out of a marriage, Sirius,” the Doctor told him, “It’s happened before and it can happen again, I’m sure of it.”

“Obviously,” Sirius said, “But Andromeda’s thing was more that she did want to marry – only Ted was the wrong sort.”

“And Lyra Black,” the Doctor added, “Defied her family’s wishes in 1901, married into the Crabbe family. Then there was Delphinus Black who was supposed to marry his niece in 1750 but left her at the altar and married Fidelia Bulstrode. Your uncle Alphard never married either, though I haven’t yet found an explanation –”

“Yeah, we’re not supposed to talk about him,” Sirius replied edgily, “I’ve heard mother ranting about him and I’m pretty sure he was a queer.”

There was an awkward silence where eyes slid towards the Doctor.

“I don’t believe that’s a particularly kind word yet Sirius,” he said bluntly, “And if you’re going to use it, at least refrain from using an article to dehumanize him.”

An uncomfortable silence passed through the room.

“My dad knew Alphard,” James said quietly, “He said he was an all right bloke.”

“He was always nice to me,” Sirius shrugged nervously “Left me his money and everything – made sure no one else can touch it until I’m of age. Makes my parents furious, you know…that he didn’t return all his cash to the family vault. So I have to give him credit for that, even if…you know.”

“Even if what, Sirius?”

Sirius eyed the Doctor nervously, “Well, y’know, it’s different with you.”

“Why?” The Doctor demanded, “What makes me different from any other queer?”

“Well, y’know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “You’re already…”

“Already what?” His voice was cold.

“I dunno,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Already weird. You’re like the exception to every rule. Nothing makes sense around you, which is the only thing that makes sense."

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with David Bowie being gay.”

“Yeah, because it’s Bowie.”

These were children. These were children. These were children. They were children who – especially Sirius – had grown up in an environment where certain things were not acceptable and they just needed to be educated. They didn’t know better.

“There’s nothing wrong with gay people, Sirius,” the Doctor said, trying to calm his voice, “They’re not a – a social contagion or have some sort of mental affliction. They’re just people who love people. ” He looked around at his friends, “What could possibly be more human than that?”

The Marauders all looked between each other.

“Well, if this means you’re a normal human, I refuse to believe it’s true.” James decided.

“Oi! Not helping!”

“No, no, he’s right,” Sirius was nodding along now, “Sorry to tell you this, Doc, but it sounds to me like only us humans are allowed to be gay.”

“I am human.” The Doctor sighed, though without much of his normal insistence. “Just a totally ordinary, run of the mill, human.”

James squinted, “Don’t think I believe that for a single second.”

“Besides,” the Doctor added, “Technically, I’m not even gay – I’m panromantic aceflux if you’re looking for specifics – though in this incarnation, I suppose I may align a little closer to grey-ace,” he frowned as he mulled through terms in his head.

“Well, I may not know what any of those words mean, but suppose that’s allowed.” James decided.

The Doctor looked around the room, daring anyone to argue, “Anyone got a problem?”

Sirius, Peter, and Remus all shook their heads.

“Brilliant,” he grinned back at them, “My point is, it’s not impossible to get out of this sort of thing, Sirius. Relatives have already paved the way. All I’ve got to do now is find out how they did it.”

“Don’t bother,” Sirius sighed, sitting down on his bed, “Even if you did find out – none of them had my mother to contend with. You know what she’s like. She’s probably going to make us take the unbreakable vow.”

“She wouldn’t!” James said, aghast.

“She’d do anything.” Sirius nodded.

The Doctor quirked his head at them. “The unbreakable vow, what’s that, then?”

“It’s a vow that you can’t break, obviously.” James said, waving his hand.

“Well, that certainly was implied.” The Doctor said dryly.

“I’m – I’m going to go study for exams,” Remus suddenly said quietly from the back of the room.

The Doctor looked over just in time for him to bolt.

“I should probably – y’know, also…” Sirius quietly left the room. It didn’t take long for James and Peter to follow, leaving the Doctor alone in the dormitory with his books.

Exam season began around mid May. Unfortunately, this was right around when the full moon was due. However, fortunately the moon itself fell on a Friday, which meant Remus was able to attend their Potions test in the morning, having the entire weekend to sleep and recover.

“Just – just give me ten minutes to revise,” Remus begged, weakly grabbing at the Doctor’s books – the Marauders were studying in the Hospital Wing again as Madam Pomfrey desperately tried to get him to rest.

“Nope. Sleeping. You’re going to sleep. Good night, Remus.”

Remus checked the clock on a nearby table, “It’s two in the afternoon.”

Without looking up from his book, the Doctor aimed the Sonic towards the clock, causing it to flicker and the time to change.

“Nope, looks to me like it’s the middle of the night.”

Remus groaned and went to retort, but his eyelids were already fluttering closed.

The Doctor also couldn’t help but notice that Remus’s magic was becoming stronger, wilder, and harder for the boy to control as the full moon waned. There were days where he’d barely finished speaking the incantation before light was bursting from his wand tip.

James had taken to saying, “Calm down, Moony!” at least three or four times a day, as Remus attempted to practice his various basic transfiguration spells and charms.

“Reparo,” Sirius muttered for the third time as Remus’s simple levitation spell sent gobstones flying through the window once more. 

“You’ve just got to relax,” the Doctor promised, “Practical exams aren’t until next week. You’ve got plenty of time.”

“I’m so behind, though!” Remus insisted, hurrying to collect his gobstones.

“If you’re behind then what am I?” Peter wailed from the floor where he had five texts spread out in front of him, all different subjects. “I know I’m going to fail Transfiguration, my rabbit hasn’t changed at all this year, and I know she’s going to make us do something really hard.”

“I told you, you’ve got to be more forceful with the spell,” the Doctor said calmly, “You’re not going to hurt the rabbit. You just need to be more confident in yourself.”

“At least you’re good at Potions,” Remus shot back, “And Herbology, I can’t ever remember which leaves mean what…”

“You beat me on our last Herbology quiz,” James reminded him, “And you’ve got us all by the bollocks when it comes to History of Magic, I’ve been copying your homework all year – even the Doctor’s not scoring close.”

“But you’re best at Defense Agains–” Remus started, but was interrupted by a loud thump as Sirius threw his Astronomy textbook to the floor.

“Will you all shut up? I’m trying to revise!” He yelled, standing up. “Like a bunch of old women nattering. I’m going to the library.” He pulled his satchel over his shoulder and stormed out of the room.

The room rang silently. Peter looked on the verge of tears.

“He’s just stressed,” the Doctor reminded them. “He’s got to go home soon and…well, we can’t exactly blame him, being upset about the wedding – which I will stop, mind you. I’ve almost got it – I just need to do some more research.”

“Yeah, talk about stressed, Doc,” James pointed out, “I’m pretty sure the library’s gonna run out of books pretty soon –”

“I do return them, you know.”

“And your eyebags are gonna touch the floor with how much you’ve been staying up.”

“I never sleep, you know this.”

James squinted skeptically. “I dunno, a normal human would try to sleep a little more.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes, “A very clever attempt, James. Really. I’m feeling tired just thinking about it.”

“Mock all you want Doctor, but you know this summer Mum’s going to tie you to the bed if it means getting your recommended eight hours –”

“Eight hours?” The Doctor stared at him, mouth agape. “You humans need eight hours of sleep?”

“Aha! I knew it!” James cried in triumph, “I knew you weren’t human! So what are you? Veela? Vampire? A very small giant?”

“I’m half-centaur, half-minotaur," the Doctor deadpanned. "Got the human half of both.”

“Really?”

“No,” the Doctor was smiling now, “I’m…” His smile faded. “I’m just a human.” He lied. “Promise.”

The room was quiet for a moment, something only emphasized by Sirius’s absence.

“Sirius isn’t exactly helping himself,” Peter decided quietly. “If he keeps acting the way he does, he’ll lose more than his hair next time.”

“What’d you mean?” James frowned, sitting up, “Saying it’s all his fault?”

“No!” Peter cried quickly, “No, I just mean…well, you know the other day he packed all those Gryffindor house banners in his trunk. He wants to put them up in his bedroom to annoy his parents. Stuff like that is exactly what gets him into trouble.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of house pride,” James sniffed defensively, though he shot a nervous glance at Sirius’s trunk.

“Normally I would agree with you, James,” The Doctor said, looking back towards the boys things as well, “But this isn’t just about house pride or defying his parents. This is about safety. His life could be in danger.”

James stared at him, “But they wouldn’t kill him. They need him – to – to get married and the family line and…”

“They might not kill him outright,” the Doctor agreed, “But we’re talking about severe abuse. There are all sorts of factors – stress, neglect, suicide –”

“He’s not going to kill himself!” James bellowed, his eyes full of tears, “He wouldn’t do that to us!”

“I –” The Doctor hesitated. He shouldn’t have brought up such a sensitive topic so carelessly. These were children – he had to keep reminding himself of that. “I’m not saying he’s going to commit suicide, James,” he promised, “I just mean that there are other risks.”

James nodded silently, wiping his eyes.

“We’re going to save him. I promise.”

“You promised he wouldn’t have to go back there.” James pointed out.

“Yeah…Yeah, I did.”

The two suddenly became very acutely aware of the other boys in the room.

“I – I’m going to the library to check on Sirius.” James decided quickly. Peter silently followed him out.

Remus left soon after to meet with Lily.

The Doctor sighed and sat back down to read.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”

“Excellent, Mr. Potter!” Professor McGonagall gushed uncharacteristically as James transformed his rabbits into a perfect pair of fine red velvet slippers with fur trim.

“Not bad, Mr. Smith, but your lace is still unsymmetrical.”

The Doctor scowled, “I’m not a bloody seamstress.”

“Then you shouldn’t have made your slippers out of lace,” Professor McGonagall said, “And that’s five points for swearing.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and returned to his lace. She certainly had been serious about being harder on him.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius lazily waving his wand over his own rabbits. They were shaping into a lovely pair of black wool booties.

Peter’s slippers still had ears after three attempts and left droppings on his desk, but overall, he certainly wasn’t the worst in the class.

Remus’s slippers were not as neat as James’s, Sirius’s, or the Doctor’s, but they were certainly wearable and no longer had any leporine features, even if they stayed a dull brown colour.

At the end of the Transfiguration exam, Professor McGonagall returned all of the rabbits to their original state and sent them hopping back into their hutch at the back of the room, ready for the next exam. She then began to hand out sheets of parchment that looked like blank timestables.

“You’ll be aware,” she said, very formally, “that in your third year, you may choose a minimum of two additional subjects to take up to Ordinary Wizarding Level. Here are your application sheets. If you will please think very carefully, reviewing each subject’s merits, then complete the form and return it to my office no later than the last day of term.”

The class began to murmur excitedly. The Doctor looked down at his form and the list of subjects listed there.

“Muggle Studies,” Sirius said, as they headed outside into the summer sunshine, “Definitely going to take Muggle Studies.”

There was no surprise there – if any subject was going to win the disapproval of the Black family, then that was it.

“D’you think Evans will take that?” James scratched his chin.

Sirius grinned, “Doubt it, mate, she’s muggle born. You could impress her with your knowledge, though.”

“Yeah…yeah, maybe…” James looked down thoughtfully.

“Are you going to take that, then, James?” Peter asked anxiously. “Do you think it’ll be difficult? I s’pose we could just ask Remus or the Doctor for help…are you taking it?”

Remus shook his head, “I’m from the muggle world,” he reminded them.

“I might,” The Doctor shrugged. There was a gnawing curiosity as to the wizarding perception of the muggle world, and this certainly would be the class to show him that.

“Divination…that’s like fortune telling, right?” James sat down on the grass, throwing off his robes. Sirius followed suit, rolling up his shirt sleeves.

“Yep,” The Doctor hummed, “Or it’s often used to gain insight into a question or situation. Very common form of magic even by muggle standards.”

“Muggles don’t do magic,” Sirius reminded him very slowly.

“You’d be surprised,” The Doctor said, “Divination was practiced all throughout Ancient Greece and Mesoamerica, and is still practiced in India, Nepal, Japan, Taiwan, pretty much every country in Africa, many tribes of Native Americans,” He gestured his et cetera. “They know it’s magic, it’s just that much of the modern world doesn’t believe them.”

“Woah,” James said, “Think they’ll teach about that in Muggle Studies?”

“Probably not, wizards are too arrogant.”

“Hey!”

“Well, we’re definitely doing that,” Sirius decided as he, James, Peter, and the Doctor all scribbled it down.

The Doctor ignored the fact that Remus didn’t – the future was a very personal thing. Besides, this would be a great opportunity for him to branch out on his own.

After tapping his temple with his wand and whispering, “Luctiuncula Magna,” Remus began to read through himself.

“Arithmancy,” he muttered, “Is that like arithmetic?”

“It’s like Divination,” The Doctor explained, “It uses numerical patterns to predict the future – another very common form of magic in the non-magical world.”

“It’s supposed to be really difficult.” Sirius added.

“I’m definitely taking that, then.” The Doctor decided, scribbling it down.

“I think I’ll do it too, if you are,” Sirius decided, adding it to his as well, James doing much the same.

“Will it really be difficult?” Peter worried.

“We’ll help you, Peter, don’t worry.” James promised.

They began to look through the subjects again.

“Care of Magical Creatures…dunno about that,” James snorted as he continued to read. “Have you seen the teacher? He’s got more scars than Moony.”

“Oi,” Remus kicked his ankle.

“I might take Ancient Runes,” the Doctor hummed. It was a little more theoretical, which certainly would work in his favour.

“Come on, boys,” James said, “There are better things about third year than extra classes – We’ve got Hogsmeade!”

“You go to Honeyduke’s three times a week,” Remus reminded him.

“Yeah, but Zonko’s!”

The five of them layed back to look at the sky, watching as the clouds passed. The Doctor had barely even realized how quick he’d been to pick out his classes – as if he just assumed he’d be coming back. He could justify being undercover for a year – two was pushing it – could he really do three? Didn’t he have a moral obligation to leave? To go back to defending the universe? Or was something supposed to happen here that he had to be ready for?

“Oi, oi, Evans!” James sat up, suddenly.

The Doctor sat up as well. Ever since the midnight feast, James had been even more obsessed with the girl.

“I’m not a dog, Potter,” her voice echoed across the grounds, “Don’t yell at me like one.”

“Hi Sirius,” Mary’s voice spoke from behind her friend.

Marlene gave a shy wave towards Remus, who returned it in kind.

“All right, MacDonald,” Sirius nodded, casually sweeping his hair behind one ear – he’d started doing that whenever the girls were around. Some sort of human romantic tic, perhaps?

All three girls had ice creams, likely an idea sparked on by the unseasonably warm weather. Lily had even charmed a Japanese sensu hand fan to follow her around, creating a cool breeze wherever the three girls went.

“Give us a lick, then,” James winked at her lewdly.

“James,” the Doctor scolded as Marlene turned beetroot red and dissolved into giggles.

Lily, however, remained quite calm, arching one red eyebrow. “You look like you need cooling off. Agumente!”

The Doctor and Remus managed to scramble out of the way as Lily aimed her wand at the Marauders and sprayed them with icy cold water, but it’s not like she was trying to get them anyways.

James and Sirius got the worst of it, both shouting in dismay as their hair and shirts were drenched. Mary, Marlene, and Lily cackled with glee.

“What’d you do that for?” Sirius growled, pulling his dripping hair apart to glare at them, looking much like a drowned rat.

“Thought you lot liked practical jokes?” Lily winked at him before turning away and walking towards the lake.

“Complete nightmare, that one.” Sirius groaned, trying a hot air charm on his hair.

“That’s my future wife you’re talking about,” James replied dreamily as he watched her go. His glasses had steamed up comically. “Stop being so dramatic, you’ll dry out in a half an hour with this heat.”

“Where’d you think they got the ice cream?” Peter asked, distantly.

The Doctor and Remus exchanged an amused look, laying back down in the grass.

They still had a full month to figure everything out. A full month to decide if he was going, staying, how he was going to get Narcissa and Sirius out of the betrothal, to get Sirius away from his home. A whole month. He’s toppled entire kingdoms in a month. These were simple problems. They had simple answers. He just had to find them. And he still had an entire month to do so. For now, he could lay back in the grass and allow everything to be as it should.

Chapter Text

It was the last day of term and the Doctor was all but pulling his hair out. He still hadn’t found a solution for Sirius and he had less than twenty four hours to do so.

“I can work against a clock,” He reminded himself as he poured through his books, “I’m good against a clock.”

He also had most of the Marauders out of the way – James and Peter were running about, causing as much chaos as possible, and Remus, Sirius, and the Doctor would be helping a bit later. The Doctor’s job was to get the umbrellas they needed from the gamekeeper’s shed on the grounds and smuggle them back to their dormitory before lunch.

The Doctor decided to finish packing later that evening – thanks to the Potters he now actually had things to pack – but for the moment he was nearly running late for his appointment with Professor McGonagall.

“Mr. Smith,” She peered down at him, “Timely as ever, I see.”

“A wizard is never late, Professor. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that 'precisely when he means to’ is also when he’s scheduled to.” Professor McGonagall said as she invited him in. “Tea?”

“That’d be lovely.”

As he sat down, the professor waved her wand and the small tartan teapot on her desk began to pour its contents into two matching cups.

“Help yourself to milk,” she said absentmindedly as she gestured for the Doctor to hand her the parchment he’d been carrying. She raised an eyebrow as she looked down.

“You’re very talented, Mr. Smith,” she said, “But I think not even you can take every elective.”

“Oi! What happened to I’m a genius who needs more classes and to spend less time with my friends?”

She sighed, “John, there simply aren’t enough hours in the day.”

“Never been a problem for me before.” 

“And I congratulate you for that,” Professor McGonagall said dryly, “that does not mean you will be able to do that here.”

“Spoilsport.” The Doctor grumbled.

Professor McGonagall almost looked amused, as she examined the list.

“Do you really need Muggle Studies, Mr. Smith?” She asked, “Seeing as you have grown up in the muggle world, I am surprised it's a topic that interests you.”

“Well, I wouldn't say I need it, but I really am quite fascinated with the magical world’s view on the non-magical. Your arrogance has continued to astound me and I would love nothing more than to see the extent to which it goes.”

Professor McGonagall definitely looked amused now.

“I admire your thirst for knowledge.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.”

“And what of Divination, John?” The professor asked, “Atop your many great accomplishments, are you also one gifted with the sight?”

“Definitely.” the Doctor decided.

She gave him a wry smile, “And such a humble boy. I can’t deny that I would be fascinated by the things you see – you’ve got a creative mind to say the least.”

She went to write it down, but the Doctor suddenly stopped her.

“Er, actually, perhaps not.”

She regarded him oddly. “I was thinking, if I get so few, I might like to do something else instead.”

This was true, but only partially. It was also, in part, to do with his…worsening reputation as less-than-human. Perhaps a subject in which it may unintentionally divulge his own personal history was less than strategic.

“Like what, Mr. Smith?”

“Care of Magical Creatures?”

That seemed to catch her a touch off guard.

“This is something that interests you?”

“Yeah, I love animals, me.”

She raised an eyebrow, “You always struck me more of the academic type. But perhaps you have interest in becoming a Dragonologist or something of the sort?”

“Er, yes, perhaps.”

“You have one more, Mr. Smith,” Professor McGonagall said, “Arithmancy or Ancient Runes?”

He hesitated. They both were fascinating. Arithmancy carried with it the same potential problems as Divination did, especially with it being more geared towards personal experiences, however Ancient Runes might bore him, as if he couldn’t read them immediately with the assistance of the TARDIS, it would be far easier to just go back and speak with whatever ancient people wrote it.

“I’ll do Arithmancy,” he decided. Better to be a little suspicious than a bloody archaeologist.

The Doctor’s next stop was the equipment shed – it was full of various tools for maintaining the school grounds – he was warned the lock would not respond to the Alohomora incantation, but with a quiet hum of the Sonic, the door creaked open.

It didn’t take long to find a large black trunk of umbrellas – why did wizards even need umbrellas? Surely there was a spell to protect yourself from the rain. He shrugged off the thought, covering the trunk with the invisibility cloak James had given him that morning, before casting a weightlessness charm on it, levitating the whole thing out of the shed.

He headed back to the castle as inconspicuously as possible, his wand under his robes so no one could see him guiding the invisible trunk. A few times he had to quickly move it so as to avoid a fellow student walking into the invisible object.

The trunk was left in the dormitory, the cloak folded neatly beside it.

His next stop was the library to return the remainder of his books.

“John!” He spun around as he heard a voice at the dormitory entrance.

“Lily,” He greeted back, “Bit busy, if you don’t mind me –”

“I’m just looking for Remus,” She admitted, “I've got something for him – here, let me show you!”

Rifling through her bag, she withdrew a sheet of clear plastic.

“Had to wait ages for the acetate – my mum got it from a friend of hers who’s a teacher. They use them for overhead projectors in muggle schools – Well, you know that, obviously.”

The Doctor didn’t know this, but decided the best course of action would be to nod enthusiastically.

“Give me one of your books,” She nodded at the stack he’d been holding, “I’ll show you.”

He complied, curious enough to see where this was going. She opened the text at a random page and placed it on the trunk, then lay the acetate over it.

“Well, you can’t really see it, but Remus will be able to,” She explained, “I enchanted it with that spell he uses to help him read – as well as some potion work, of course. But it should last a good long time, and should make reading for him far easier over the summer!”

“Lily, this is brilliant!”

She turned a bit pink, “I – well, I suppose –”

“Really,” the Doctor further insisted, “It is utterly and unequivocally brilliant. You are brilliant.”

She grinned, “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“I’m pretty sure Remus is by the first floor bathrooms if you’re looking.”

She frowned, “The first floor…why would he be down there?”

He flashed her a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes in an amused sort of way and made her way out of the room, “I’ll see you at the feast, John.”

“Bring an umbrella!”

“I’ve already packed mine!” She called, her voice fading away.

“Unpack it then!” He could hear her laugh echoing down the stairs.

He then knelt down to pick up the book she’d been using only to freeze.

Right there, on the page she’d so carelessly cracked it open to, was the answer to all his problems: ‘It is important to note that the unbreakable vow, once made, cannot be superseded by any other kind of vow, oath or promise made thereafter, regardless of any legal or moral concerns around keeping such a vow.’

He stared at it for a moment in disbelief before booking it down to the dungeons.

“Severus, brilliant!” The Doctor said anxiously, managing to catch the boy just as he was headed out the Slytherin Common Room for lunch.

“What do you want, Smith?” He sneered.

“I need you to go fetch Narcissa for me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I need to speak with her,” he said, “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked, “You think you’re so high and mighty, Smith –”

“Out of the way, Snape, you slimy git.” A familiar voice came from the wall behind Severus and Barty Crouch Jr. stepped out, followed by Regulus Black.

“Regulus! Even more brilliant! I need to speak with Narcissa –”

“Mordeo!” Without warning, Barty Crouch had aimed a curse at the Doctor, a momentary painful sting.

“Oi!" He scowled at him before turning back to the first boy, "Regulus, this is  very important,” the Doctor insisted, “It’s Black family business.”

Regulus watched him for a few moments longer, not speaking. He was so like Sirius in so many ways, yet devoid of that childish joy that all young children were supposed to have.

“Snape,” he finally said, “Go and get my cousin, will you?”

Severus looked furious, but obeyed. After a few moments, Crouch took his leave too, leaving Regulus and the Doctor in a stony silence.

“Whatever it is, I’ve already tried it.” Narcissa sighed at the sight of him.

“I guarantee you haven’t,” he promised.

“Just get it out so I can get back to figuring this out on my own.”

“Do you want to marry Lucius?” The Doctor asked, “Really and truly?”

“Of course,” she said, “That’s half the reason I’m trying to get out of this match.”

“I mean it,” he furthered, “I know how to stop the betrothal, but only if you’re absolutely one hundred percent sure.”

“I’m sure!” She scowled at him, as if insulted at the notion of otherwise.

“The unbreakable vow,” he said.

“What of it?”

“It’s a vow that can’t be broken. Ever. It can’t be altered or superseded by any other vows. Not even another unbreakable vow – Or, perhaps, a wedding vow?”
The light switch flicked on in Narcissa’s eyes.

“Oh.”

The Doctor grinned, “I know –” 

But before he could get another word out, there was a shriek from somewhere up the hall, causing them all to turn. A Slytherin girl came bursting out of a girl’s bathroom at the end of the corridor, wailing.

“They all just…exploded!” She said, looking faintly disturbed. Sure enough, they could see through the swinging toilet door behind her that waves of pink foam were spilling from the wash basins and toilets. It was truly impressive – gorgeous great drifts of soft, soapy bubbles tumbling out of every tap and drain.

“Got to go!” The Doctor grinned and split, waving at Narcissa as he went.

The rest of the afternoon was nothing short of chaotic. Every single bathroom in the castle seemed to have been mysteriously affected by the foam flood and no one seemed to be able to stop it for very long. Massive drifts of bubbles clogged the halls like pink snow, and those students who didn’t want to play in it did not appear to mind being forced out onto the grounds to loll about on the grass and spend their last day in the sunshine.

Having not had the time to run to the library before seeing Narcissa, the Doctor made a B-line for the dormitory to get his books. He couldn’t help but notice that James, likely the tidiest of the five of them, had already packed all his things the night before and neatly made his bed. Remus’s space was tidy, if only for the reason that it was now entirely empty save for his pajamas and a book, which were on his bedside table. Peter had apparently tried to pack at some point, but had been disturbed halfway through – his trunk was flung open, various items of clothing hanging out of it, a pile of textbooks on his bed, and his red tie hanging from the frame. Sirius’s bed was by far the worst – because every drawer in his dresser was open, his bedsheets had been ripped back, and his trunk stood completely empty.

Silently, he began to pack Sirius’s bags. For as much as he was sure he’d solved the betrothal problem, he wasn’t so sure that Sirius was in the clear. He’d spoken about potentially going to Durmstrang, a military-esc school in Svalbard, this year, and that certainly wasn’t off the table for the following – Narcissa was right when she said this could be seen as insubordination. Not to mention all the abuse he’d be experiencing over the summer. The Doctor wasn’t done. He couldn’t be done yet. He had to make sure that Sirius would be safe.

He snatched up Remus’s book off the bedside table, and dug through Peter’s things to find one of his own. He then picked up the three books he’d set aside from Sirius’s things, and all his own books and made his way to the library.