Any Way the Wind Blows
A Sad, and Often Lamentable, Tale
Part I: An Introduction to Problem Number the First
Behind a stack of fourteen textbooks, and one Muggle book of poetry, sat Remus Lupin, busily finishing up the last paragraph of a rather bland two foot long parchment for Potions class. It was due in exactly sixteen hours, which meant he had procrastinated. Anyone who knew Remus, however, knew that, even within his vast vocabulary, procrastination was not a word he knew.
And that meant he had been distracted.
Distracted by something far more significant than homework, full moons, and the times when Sirius would sit on his stomach and ask him to go flying around the quidditch pitch for an hour or two (which made doing anything quite impossible).
In fact, Remus had two problems, and neither of which was the essay. And while both were, in fact, different, they were bound together by a single, overarching problem that held them together without combining them into one. Though these problems were different, they could be handled in much the same way.
Finally, he began to finish up the last sentence of the last paragraph; tongue between his teeth, brow furrowed; tawny hair hanging into his eyes as he bent low over the parchment and made sure that this last sentence was as equal in importance as the dozens above it. Soon, he was on the last few words. Three left. (He'd used a particularly good word just now, as well!) Two left, and
"'Lo, Moony." Damn it.
"Hello, Padfoot." Remus was now stuck with only one word left, because the newcomer, the aforementioned Sirius Black, had stolen his quill.
"What're you doing?" Sirius asked, seating himself on the edge of the table and looking thoroughly bored as he twirled the quill between two long fingers. Two long fingers that Remus found himself suddenly staring at.
"What does it look like I'm doing? Finishing up an es--"
"Want to go flying?"
Remus did not want to do anything other than finish up the last word of the last paragraph of the last bit of homework he had. However, telling Sirius Black this would be about as effective as informing the nearest wall that, no, he did not want to go flying, and would it please give back his quill, thank you very much.
"Yes, now! Come on, up you get!"
"What about James?" It was always worth it to at least try to make a last ditch effort to save himself. It was notorious for not working, however, so Remus didn't expect it to.
And it didn't.
"He's playing Exploding Snap with Peter and it's bloody boring! Let's go, let's go! Up you get, come on, then!" Sirius looked so entirely eager that he was taking on the more familiar doglike characteristics he often possessed. Remus always thought Sirius was more in-tune with his Animagi form. It would explain a lot of his more quirky behavioral patterns. Drooling, for starters.
"I'll only go if you give me back my quill," Remus said, his voice steady, his look stern. Sirius was infamous for not listening to compromises, especially when he knew he was already winning. (Somewhere someone was continuously playing an applause track, just for Sirius. And only Sirius ever seemed to hear it, but it was quite obvious that it was there. Remus had once caught Sirius bowing to what appeared to be, well, air. His excuse at the time had been something very lame and very shallow. It had been so very lame and very shallow, that Remus fully remembered the response, but chose not to acknowledge that he did. In any case, the applauses usually dictated what Sirius should do.)
This time, however, Sirius jumped up and did hand the quill back to Remus. (Apparently, the audience had been encouraging.) Remus, in turn, put away the parchment and the textbooks, stood up, and followed him through the castle and out onto the grounds.
That was the first mistake in a series of mistakes that would soon follow.
It was winter. That was the second mistake, and a difficult one to avoid, for sure.
The third mistake was the Remus had left his scarf inside, forgetting the chilly early evening air. When he asked Sirius if he could go retrieve it, and when Sirius gave him permission, the three mistakes combined into one in order to create one of the largest calamities of the new year, which neither of the three affected parties could have predicted, and nor would they want to, had they been able to. (And since each of the affected were failing Divination, it was obvious that they wouldn't have been able to.)
It was all very confusing.