James, Remus, Peter, and Branwen tumbled from the fireplace into a room they were all too familiar with. McGonagall was seated behind her desk, fingers tented, square-rimmed glasses glinting in the green light of the Floo flames. Seated on two stiff wooden chairs in front of the her were Sirius and Regulus Black.
"Sirius!" James lost no time rushing to embrace his friend and Sirius nearly toppled his chair to the floor to meet him. They clasped together as though it had been two years since they were parted, rather than two months.
"Welcome back to Hogwarts, boys, Miss Potter," McGonagall inclined her head to the newcomers, then consulted her watch. "You have a few hours yet if you'd like to go to your dormitory and unpack."
"A few hours until what?" Regulus was watching them all with narrowed eyes. He had no idea why his mother had insisted he come to school early with his brother. He was furious to have missed the train ride which should have been a time to reunite with his friends and not these ridiculous Gryffindors. His mother had only told him to keep an eye on Sirius and report back to her.
"Mr. Black," McGonagall spoke to the youngest brother, "I've spoken to Professor Slughorn and he told me that he could use your help in the Potions classroom this evening. He indicated there would extra points for your House, so I suggest you take him up on it."
Regulus sat for a moment, eyes darting between his professor the other students, but finding no way out, he slunk from the room. Before he crossed the threshold though, he shot one more glance in Branwen's direction.
Had her hair always shone like that, dancing above her shoulders like a curtain of black flame? Or was it just a trick of light in the dim room? And surely she had put on weight over the summer, only she didn't look any fatter, just....softer. He frowned to himself. What exactly did she see in those boys she fawned over? Sure, Potter was her brother, but Sirius was a real prat, Lupin looked like an overgrown bowtruckle, and Pettigrew was just a pig.
Regulus could feel his teeth grinding as his jaw tightened, so he shook his head, clearing away the curious thoughts. Then he pulled his shoulders back and strode toward the dungeon stairs.
The Gryffindors followed shortly after, making their way up to their common room. The Fat Lady was shocked to see students arriving so early, and told them so. "What are you five doing here? The train can't have arrived already! Go back wherever you came from. And don't make me tell the Headmaster!"
James rolled his eyes."Dragon-nest."
The Fat Lady gasped. "How do you know the new password? Professor McGonagall gave it to me only this morning!"
"Dragon-nest," Sirius repeated.
With a disgusted huff, the Fat Lady swung open and allowed entrance.
Branwen ran to her room first; her trunk had already been delivered, so she dug around in it for the packages she needed, then set off to rejoin the boys. She was half-way up the stairs to the boys' dormitory when they flattened into the anti-sneaking slide.
"Really?" she brushed herself off. "Are we going to be doing this again?" A moment passed, then the stairs resumed their usual form. She smiled. "Thank you."
The room was suspiciously quiet when Branwen pushed open the door. She had expected the boys to be chatting away, catching up on their summer adventures, but all four of them were huddled on the hearth rug, their heads bowed over something in James' lap. Sirius chuckled and pointed at whatever it was and Remus hissed something in reply.
"Hello, boys. What are we looking – ah!" Branwen bounced over to peek over their shoulders, then fell back shrieking, her hands over her eyes. "James! Mum forbid you to buy those magazines! What are you doing with that here! And why are you all looking at it!"
Sirius slid the magazine across the floor, clearing aiming to hide it beneath his bed, but it fell short. The (very-nearly) nude woman on the cover looked unconvincingly shocked.
"Wait to go, gits!" James growled, grabbing the magazine and tossing it back into his trunk. "You just scarred my little sister for life!"
"Scarred yourselves, is more like," she snapped. "You think women actually look like that? Maybe if Muggle women have some kind of magic that we don't know about."
Four pairs of eyes turned to her, then swiftly jerked away. Red in the face, they looked everywhere and anywhere but each other. Peter grabbed a pillow from the bed and slid it on to his lap, swallowing thickly.
"Ugh. Boys," Branwen rolled her eyes. "Here, enjoy my gifts instead. At least they're appropriate for mixed company." She ran back to the bed where she had deposited the three packages. "These are from me and James and my parents."
To cover their embarrassment, the boys dug into the wrappings as quickly and energetically as possible. Sirius was the first to get his open. "Woah!" It was the most reverent he had ever sounded. In his hands was a black leather jacket. He held it up to allow them all to bask in its glory, before jumping up and sliding it on. He ran to the mirror on his wardrobe and pirouetted, trying to see himself from every angle.
James peered over his shoulder. "Are you crying, mate?"
"No," Sirius coughed, but continued to run his hands over the supple leather.
Behind him, Remus and Peter had their presents open as well.
Peter pulled out a large box. It was bright and colourful with pictures of a candy-coated house and candy-bearing tree. The name of the game was, unsurprisingly, Candy Land. Branwen rushed over to explain. "We found a store in New York City that sold wizarding versions of Muggle games. This one is played with actual candy!"
Then she turned to Remus. He was turning over a handsome wooden box with the company name "Voges" etched in gold lettering on the lid. Inside was half a dozen of the finest quills in the wizarding world.
Branwen leaned on his shoulder and pointed at each of the feathers in turn. "Look! This one's from an Eagle. That one's a Pheasant. There's a Fwooper, a Snallygaster, a Jobberknoll, and a Raven. You can't find another collection like that anywhere!" She beamed. "I know because I customised it myself at the factory in New York City. And look here," she reached between his hands and pulled out the bottles of ink that were nestled at the bottom. "This shade is called 'Amazonian Gold' and it's made with real gold! And of course all the other specials are here: invisibility ink, glow-in-the-dark, colour change, self-correcting...." she stopped chattering and blushed when she realised he was watching her with amusement.
"Thanks, Branwen," Remus chuckled. He leaned forward and found his lips a breath-space from her cheek before he jerked back and awkwardly patted her hand.
"Um, mates," James held up his watch and tapped the face.
They all bolted upright, dumping the presents unceremoniously onto the beds. Branwen raced back to her room to grab her cloak while the boys scooped theirs from their trunks. They met back up in the common room, where James tossed the Invisibility Cloak over the five of them.
It wasn't until this very moment that they realised how much taller they had all grown over the past two months.
"Scoot closer, Peter."
"You're standing on my foot, Moony."
"Sirius! Stop breathing down my neck."
It was slow going, the five of them stumbling over each other while trying to stay concealed. To make matters worse, the whistle from the Express could be heard in the distance. Soon, the castle would be flooded with new and returning students. The five friends barely made it to the base of the Whomping Willow before the clatter of the first carriage drew even with the Entrance Hall.
Once they were in the tunnel, they were able to shed the cloak, but that didn't make things much more comfortable. For most of the way, James, Sirius, and Remus were knocking their heads against the earthen ceiling, despite stooping as low as they could. They finally reached the trapdoor with a few minutes to spare.
Remus was already sweating and breathing hard. Branwen squeezed his hand and smiled. "It's going to be all right now."
He nodded frantically, then jumped the six feet from the tunnel floor into the Shack.
Branwen watched James seal the trapdoor behind their friend.
As the time dragged on, the boys shifted restlessly. Branwen leaned her head against the wall, starting every time a crash or howl sounded from above.
James kept glancing at his sister, then whispered something to Sirius and Peter. The three of them scooted away from her and when she heard the silky rustle of paper, she realised her brother had brought that dirty magazine with him.
Rolling her eyes, she inched even farther away from them and reached into her cloak. Since they had left in such a hurry from the Potter House, she hadn't found time to read the letters she'd received over the summer. She took them out now and read them from the light of her wand.
There were one or two from her room-mates, filling her in on their activities and thanking her for the gifts she had already sent from America.
Then came the letters from Peter. Much like Branwen's letters when she was stuck at home, they were full of the mundane details of daily life. The weather is nice, mum made a lovely dinner yesterday, the gardenias are coming along nicely. There were a few things of which Branwen made note. Apparently the gang of Muggle boys was still tormenting him. He also said that his parents were getting something called a "divorce." She thought she had heard that term somewhere before, but she couldn't recall what it meant. Maybe it had to do with the new job his dad was getting. He wrote that his dad would now be living in Spain and that he would be living with his mum from now on.
Branwen expected the next letter in the pile to be from Remus, but was shocked to see Sirius' swirling script. The envelope was addressed to James. She glanced at her brother. He was giggling at something in the magazine while Sirius made a lewd gesture. Neither of them noticed when she ripped open the envelope as quietly as possible.
Dear James,
I know I said I wouldn't write this summer, but it's just so bloody boring here. Mum keeps me in the house all the time now. No Floo Network, no owls. Not even a broom. Merlin, I am going to be so out of shape for Quidditch this season! And with Fairchild gone and Shacklebolt as our new captain, I may as well hand in my bat now. His drills are murder!
Can you believe I even finished my homework? That's how boring it is here. I picked "means of transportation" as my subject for the Muggle Studies essay. When I was done, I tore out a photo of one of those motorbikes from the textbook and stuck it on my wall. Kreacher found it and tore it down. The next time, I put it up with a permanent sticking charm. You should have heard him howling when it wouldn't come down.
Reg always nags me for tormenting Kreacher, but that stupid elf is nothing more than my mother's spy and shadow. When she goes out of the house or has guests over, she makes him my warden. Although, I have to admit that even Kreacher can be preferable to some of the arses my mother entertains.
Last week, she let that git Voldemort use our place for a sort of meeting. I was locked in my room with Kreacher of course, so I don't know exactly what happened, but Reg told me that most of our family was there, and the Malfoys, and a bunch of other purebloods. Reg is really keen on Voldemort, you know. Even has a picture of him up in his room. I tried to tell him the bloke's no good, but he won't hear anything against him.
I did have one nice break from all this paradise. Last weekend, my uncle Alphard somehow convinced my mother to let me got and visit him. We had a grand old time. Alphard and Mother get along like water and oil. He's everything Mother hates: a single, rich playboy who doesn't give a damn about bloodlines or kissing up to the right people. I'm going to be just like him someday.
Mother would hate Alphard even more if she knew that my cousin Andie came to visit while I was with him. Andie is Cissy and Bella's sister; she got disowned by my aunt and uncle when she married a Muggle-born bloke called Tonks. They have a kid now. Her name is Nymphadora. I have no idea what possessed Andie to call her that, except that maybe of the Black cruelty lives on. The kid is cute though. She's a metamorphmagus. She doesn't have much control over it, but she can change her hair colour and even managed a pig's nose once.
I wish I could have stayed with Alphard instead of coming back to bleeding Grimmauld Place. He said he would take me in a heartbeat, but my mother would never let him. I'm telling you, mate, I can't wait until I turn seventeen. I have to get out of here before I go mad like the rest of them. Reg says I should just move out now, but I don't know where I'd go. It's not like I have any money of my own.
If I could, I'd stay at Hogwarts year round. Although I guess it would be boring there too if you gits weren't around all the time. Speaking of, how do you reckon our furry little friend is getting along? I suppose he's okay with his parents. Have you heard anything from Peter?
Actually, don't answer those questions; at least, don't send a letter back. Regulus is letting me use his owl to send this, but I can't ask you to send one back, or Mother might get suspicious. Reg doesn't really get many letters during the summer, except from those two gits, Flint and Parkinson, and one time from Snivellus.
Well, I guess a foot of parchment should do it. I'll see you in September, mate.
S.O.B.
Branwen sighed as she resealed the envelope. Poor Sirius. He talked about how much he hated it at home, but she hadn't realised it was this bad. She would definitely be writing to her parents about this. They knew better than most how to deal with Walburga Black.
Wanting to put Sirius' sad summer out of mind, Branwen turned to the final set of letters in her hand. They were from Remus. There were fewer of them than she had hoped. Still, she tore into the first eagerly.
Dear Branwen,
I'm glad to hear you made it to America safely in the aeroplane. I rode with my father in a small biplane once. It wasn't so scary. I think the reason I dislike brooms so much is because there's not much to hang on to. I always feel like I'm going to slide right off.
It's incredible that you got to meet the Japanese headmaster! I just read in Quidditch Times that their Quidditch captain, Haru Hongo, is being scouted for international teams.
If you have time while you're in New York City, maybe you can see some of the Muggle monuments too. The Statue of Liberty is said to be particularly breathtaking.
Before I sign off, I really want to say thank you for the gift that was waiting for me. My mum nearly cried when she saw it. She's so happy that I finally have friends. Perhaps next year I can have all of you over to my place. She may die of giddiness.
Looking forward to the next letter.
Yours, R.J. Lupin
Dear Branwen,
I'm sorry that your visit to Salem was so melancholy. Still, it's good to know that the wizarding community remembers its past, even if the Muggle one doesn't.
And don't worry about Voldemort. Remember, we're under the protection of Dumbledore, and he's the greatest wizard that ever lived. He defeated Grindelwald, and I'm sure this Voldemort is nothing compared to him.
Anyway, I'm sure you're still having a better time than I am. It's quite dull here. My mother got me a new book this week. It's called "Pride and Prejudice." It's a little feminine for my taste, but you can borrow it when I'm finished and see if you like it.
Yours, R.J. Lupin
Dear Branwen,
Thank you so much for the book on Ilvermorny. I'm looking forward to reading it.
It's silly to think that none of the Houses would choose you. I was browsing through the list of House characteristics and it looks like, if you had attended Ilvermorny, you would have been a Pukwudgie. I would definitely have been a Horned Serpent. I'm glad we both went to Hogwarts so we ended up in the same House. I think you're right about the Hat knowing what it's doing. It thought about Ravenclaw for me, but I can't even imagine now what it would be like to be anything other than Gryffindor. I'm especially grateful for my Gryffindor friends; who else would be foolish brave enough to befriend a werewolf?
I love the picture with Porpentina Scamander. She was an excellent Auror and her husband's works are legendary. Perhaps we'll get to meet them someday. I believe they're living in Dorset now, but Mr. Scamander has been known to visit Hogwarts from time to time.
I hope you continue to enjoy your journey.
Yours, R.J. Lupin
P.S. You had better tell James to watch those pranks though. I wouldn't put it past the Ilvermorny headmaster to contact McGonagall and give him his detention when he gets back.
As Branwen flipped through the parchments, she realised there was no reply to her longest letter, sent from New Orleans. The next was postmarked after her letter from Arizona.
Dear Branwen,
I'm glad you got to visit the Grand Canyon. Father showed me some photos of it on his slide projector, and it looks incredible.
I'll be surprised if you don't come back with a Thunderbird in your pack. You tend to accomplish something once you put your mind to it.
I think I would be willing to try riding a hippogriff. Providing it's a tame one. We studied hippogriffs last term in Care of Magical Creatures, and the ones Kettleburn brought in from the Forbidden Forest weren't exactly kittens.
Tell James I like his boots, but the hat is a bit much.
Yours, R.J. Lupin
Dear Branwen,
San Francisco sounds like a fun place. I'm glad you got to visit the ghosts and go shopping with your mum. By the way, you may regret asking my mum for more ponchos. She already has about five more planned and I think I saw her pick up some dress patterns at the shop today. Honestly, I think she always wanted a daughter. Someone she could dress up and go shopping with and all that. They probably would have had more kids if I hadn't been....well, you know.
Guess I'll be seeing you soon. Have a safe trip back.
Yours, R.J. Lupin
Branwen pocketed the letters with a sigh, her mind racing. She was confused and....disappointed? She flipped through Remus' letters again. They were so....short. Didn't he even think about her at all during the summer? Or was she only worth the five minutes it took to jot down a polite reply?
Then, in her mind's eye, she saw again the clean, even lines that bloodied his forearm. She sighed and hugged herself tight. It was going to take more than a bit of scribbling on parchment to sort this out.