Friendship
It had been a funny third year for Lea. The term had started in a much more subdued fashion than the previous two years, mostly due to his best friend being quieter and even less excitable than usual. The summer, he remembered, hadn’t gone too badly even if his parents had had seriously negative reactions to his new Fanged Frisbees. He’d missed the magical world he immersed himself in for the majority of the year while off holidaying abroad with his muggle parents, but the knowledge that it was temporary and that he was going to go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in September kept him going, even in the Italian heat. The permission slip his mom had signed to allow him to visit Hogsmeade on some weekends helped him through it, of course.
Isa’s odd behaviour had been playing on Lea’s mind for the whole of the first term and, as the Christmas holidays had already crept up on them, it was starting to get to him more than ever. Had he done something to annoy him without realising? He’d brought him back a present from his holiday, even if it was just a silly muggle gift. He thought, maybe that that was why he was off with him. He’d probably gotten in trouble with his family for having something mundane like that in the house. His family were quite openly of the Pure-Blood Is Better Than Half Blood Or Muggle-Born opinion and he doubted that his muggle-born friend giving him a present of that nature had gone down too well.
It was no secret that his mother had been annoyed that her perfect, pure-blood son had been sorted into Gryffindor as opposed to Slytherin as was the family tradition, and the Howler he’d received at breakfast on his first day had showed off her displeasure quite efficiently. Maybe bringing home a digital clock shaped like the Leaning Tower of Pisa had been one step too far for her. She definitely wasn’t happy about her son being friends with a muggle-born like himself, so it was more than possible.
Still, Lea thought that not letting him go home for Christmas a little much and Isa seemed even more miserable about it than he’d been all term. Both of them had gone home for Christmas during their previous years, but Lea had made his excuses this time - “Loads of homework, mum! Loads with a capital ‘L’”- due to having received an Owl saying that his family were going to spend the festive season with his Great Aunt Mildred. If Isa’d been going home too, he’d probably have suffered the company of his more distant relations, but since he said he was staying he wanted to too, if only to keep him company and perhaps find out what was up.
On the first day of the Holidays, Isa had skipped dinner in favour of doing homework in the Common Room. Their extra subjects had increased their workload, yes, but to work on the first day of the holidays? That was a bit much, as far as Lea was concerned. Filled with food and steeling himself as he prepared to broach the subject of Isa’s weird behaviour, Lea jogged past the enormous Christmas Trees in the entrance hall and made short work of the journey to the Gryffindor Tower, skirting past an over-excited Peeves and remembering to avoid the Vanishing Step on the way to the Fat Lady’s corridor.
“Bubotuber pus,” Lea said, wrinkling his nose unhappily as he gave her the password. “That’s not very festive.”
The Fat Lady looked decidedly grumpy. She’d made something of a fool of herself a couple of days ago when she’d gotten extremely drunk with her friend Violet and forgotten the password herself, locking all of the Gryffindors out of the Common Room for four hours until a prefect saw their Head of House about making her sober up enough to remember. Since then, she’d been temporarily banned from drinking too much and had grown quite sullen because of it.
“Yes, well,” she blustered, sounding very much like she was about to give him a mouthful, “I’m not feeling very festive,” she finished obstinately, as though prematurely running out of steam.
Lea shrugged as he stepped through the portrait hole and into the common room. He had bigger, and far more important things to think about than the alcohol-deprived misery of a painting.
The Common Room was almost empty; nearly everybody had gone home for the holidays. The only person present was exactly who Lea had hoped to see: Isa. He sat stiffly on one of the sofas, his apparently half-done homework lying on the coffee table with his open Potions text book next to it and his quill lying haphazardly on top, bathed in the light of the roaring fire. The room was as cosy and warm as ever despite the snow hitting the window, but it felt to Lea like some of the chill from outside had managed to somehow creep in.
He frowned, but tried to plaster on a smile that ended up looking and feeling rather unconvincing as Isa tore his eyes from the fire to look at him instead.
“If you run, you’ll still make dinner,” he said, allowing the expression to slip as he walked over.
Isa avoided his eyes. He didn’t look well at all. He was pale and appeared to be suffering from a cold. He’d been like that on and off all term, but Lea’d put it down to the weather because it didn’t seem like anything that a Pepper Up potion couldn’t cure. He figured that it was either that, or the strain of his extra workload. Well, he had been daft enough to pick a hard subject like Arithmancy. Regardless of what was causing his illness, he’d been off with him in particular and, while the room was quiet, he figured it was a good time to both ask about it and give a grudging apology for buying him a muggle present from his holidays.
“I’m not hungry,” Isa said dully, his frown deepening. “I don’t feel well.”
Lea threw himself onto the sofa next to him and gave him a disbelieving look, scowling slightly. “Uh... are you okay? You’ve been really off all term, if it’s because of the present, I didn’t think your parents would mind that much. It’s only a silly old clo--”
“It’s not that,” Isa said, cutting him off wearily.
The interruption was quiet, but it was enough to stop Lea talking and make an uncomfortable silence hang between them that was broken only by the crackling from the fireplace. He looked at his friend expectantly, but Isa avoided his eyes. It took him a good few minutes to ball up the courage to speak again.
“It’s nothing you’ve done,” he said quietly, “it’s something that happened over the holidays while you were away.”
Lea tried not to look as relieved as he felt. He was glad it wasn’t his fault, and that it didn’t seem to stem from either his House or his decision to befriend somebody that his mother and father referred to as a ‘mudblood’. It had taken him days to get him to admit what the term actually meant and even when he did he’d apologised profusely, even though Lea didn’t take it anywhere near as badly as Isa had expected. He wasn’t too well-versed in the terminology and culture of the Wizarding World, as was to be expected given his heritage, and while Isa’s parents seemed to hate him for it, it made dealing with insults much easier if he didn’t know that he was supposed to be offended.
“... did your mom find out that you accidentally set the curtains in the Great Hall on fire when you deflected that spell of Ienz--”
“It’s nothing like that,” he sounded thoroughly miserable, as though being punished for a spat between himself and his sworn Slytherin enemy was preferable to whatever actually was causing the problem. “I... while you were away, something... happened. The Headmaster told me not to tell anybody, so if I tell you, you have to promise not to mention it to anyone.”
He didn't look too thrilled at the prospect of spilling his secret.
Lea nodded fervently, but the frown didn’t leave his face for even a second. If he’d been sworn to secrecy, he knew that it had to be something really bad. Had he been caught using underage magic? That was grounds to for expulsion, never mind anything else! Just as he was wondering whether he was on probation for casting something he shouldn’t have in the presence of muggles, Isa spoke again and effectively killed his train of thought.
“I got bitten,” he said quietly, sounding very much like just saying the words caused him great pain and embarrassment. “By a werewolf.”
He didn’t look at Lea for a long time. When he did, his eyes widened in surprise at what he said.
“So?” Lea said blinking, a confused look on his face.
Isa shook his head, having obviously expected him to look fearful, sickened or even revolted at the revelation. It wasn’t every day that somebody responded to such an admission so blithely.
“I mean that I’m a werewolf now, too!” he said, keeping his voice low even though the room was empty. “When he bit me, I got infected and now I’m one as well!”
Lea nodded, his confused expression turning into a scowl. “Okay,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “is that why you’ve been looking ill all term?”
Isa looked as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d just admitted to his best friend that he was doomed to turn into a snarling beast once a month for the rest of his life and he was asking trivial questions about him looking sickly every so often!
“Well, yes, but - I- well -,” he practically spluttered, barely managing to keep his calm demeanour intact. “Aren’t you scared?”
Lea thought about it for a moment. It was kind of hard to believe that Isa was now the subject of more than a dozen horror movies (some of which he’d sneaked out of bed to watch when he was younger and had even got shouted at by his parents for). It was definitely weird to think that he’d never be the same as he was before, but he didn’t find it particularly scary. As long as he didn’t attack him, anyway.
“No,” he replied, “I bet loads of wizards are werewolves, aren’t they?”
Isa shook his head. “No,” he said, frowning more deeply than ever. “A lot of wizards hate werewolves - people like my parents usually hate them more than muggle-borns, they say they’re half-breeds... werewolves find it really hard to get jobs and everything. Most of them live in poverty because no one will employ them.”
Lea frowned as he let that sink in. He thought some wizards were really horrible, Isa’s parents included, but he thought even less of them now. He actually looked a little bit annoyed and decided that if he did have trouble in the future, he’d definitely help him out.
“Is that why you’re staying here for Christmas?” he asked, tilting his head. “Because your parents won’t have you at home?”
To his surprise, Isa shook his head. “No, the Headmaster has been making sure I take a potion every month so that I don’t attack anybody,” he said quietly, looking a little peaky at having to admit that. “I still change, but I keep my sense of self... I’ve been spending the nights of the full moon in the infirmary.”
Lea screwed his face up slightly as he thought about that. From his Astrology lessons, he knew that there was a full moon happening over the holiday, so that explained that. He figured that if the full moon didn’t coincide with the Christmas Holidays, he’d have been allowed to go home regardless of his ‘condition’. His mom might have been a horrible woman with ridiculous prejudices and a bizarre and somewhat outdate ideology concerning blood status, but she obviously loved her son, even if she sent him a Howler once.
“Is that why you’ve been kind of avoiding me all term?” Lea asked, frowning a little bit more than he would have liked.
Isa gave a sad, sullen nod of confirmation.
He hadn’t been totally off with him, of course. They’d hung around together, done homework together and picked mostly the same elective lessons -(Isa’d gone for Arithmancy while Lea’d picked Care of Magical Creatures)- and had still caused the usual amount of trouble, but Lea had known that Isa’s heart wasn’t really in it. He’d seemed preoccupied, and then there were the occasional days when he’d been ill and hadn’t returned to their dormitory... it all made sense now.
“You should have said something,” Lea said grouchily, giving him a shove in the shoulder. “I’ve been worried that I’d done something the whole time!”
He folded his arms and gave him a half-hearted glare, happy that it wasn’t his fault even if he did feel a pang of guilt for being happy when the reason was apparently so much worse. He just couldn’t help it.
“You... don’t hate me?” Isa asked tentatively, still looking unsure.
Lea goggled at him, uncrossing his arms and staring at him as though he’d just grown a full-length beard and donned a pink, frilled dress in the space of time it took him ask that question.
“Of course I don’t hate you!” he said, giving him an incredulous look. “Why would I hate you? You still like me even though I’m a muggle-born, why would I hate you because you’re a werewolf?”
He found the question entirely ridiculous and his tone showed it, but when met with Isa’s silence his expression and voice softened. He slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to him with a great measure of awkwardness, despite or probably because of the affection in the action. He smiled and used his other hand to tap the closer of Isa’s temples with a finger.
“You’re my best friend,” he said, trying to reassure him. “B-E-S-T F-R-I-E-N-D, got it memorized? Not even you going all mad and furry once a month is gonna make me hate you. Stupid.”
And with that, he pulled him into a hug. He was glad the Common Room was empty except for them, because doing such a thing in front of other people would have more than just dented his pride and quite likely stripped him of his carefully nurtured cool reputation. He’d spent two years building and polishing that and he wouldn’t want something like a hug to ruin it for him. To his surprise, Isa didn’t resist.
"Thanks, Lea."
Lea nodded, but after a moment he asked, “what’s it like?”
Isa drew a shaky breath before answering. Lea had a feeling that he was crying, but he stared resolutely at the fire as to not draw attention to that fact. He wouldn’t want to be caught blubbing, not even by Isa, so he didn’t want to embarrass him for doing it.
“Painful,” Isa said softly. “And scary.”
That was understandable. Even if you’ve done it once before, he imagined that changing into a wolf once a month, complete with the cracking and lengthening of bones, the sprouting of fur and the panic that you might go crazy and hurt somebody would be scary. He swallowed hard, unhappy that his best friend had to go through that and gave him an unconscious squeeze before loosening his grip on him.
Even when he had, he made sure to look at his nails for long enough to give Isa time to wipe his eyes on one of his sleeves.
“I bet,” he said lamely, “still, I’m not going to start avoiding you or anything.”
Isa nodded again, looking perkier than he had all term. “Promise you won’t tell anybody?”
Lea grinned and reached into his pocket. “Of course I won’t!” he reassured him before shoving a (slightly fluffy) pumpkin pasty into Isa’s hand. “Now shut up and eat that. You can’t go all night without eating something.”
He gave him a slightly amused and guilty look as Isa picked a strand of cotton from a bit of the oozing filling with a grimace, but didn’t hesitate to give him a dead arm for daring to do so.
“You’re so ungrateful!” he huffed, still grinning.
Isa’s odd behaviour had been playing on Lea’s mind for the whole of the first term and, as the Christmas holidays had already crept up on them, it was starting to get to him more than ever. Had he done something to annoy him without realising? He’d brought him back a present from his holiday, even if it was just a silly muggle gift. He thought, maybe that that was why he was off with him. He’d probably gotten in trouble with his family for having something mundane like that in the house. His family were quite openly of the Pure-Blood Is Better Than Half Blood Or Muggle-Born opinion and he doubted that his muggle-born friend giving him a present of that nature had gone down too well.
It was no secret that his mother had been annoyed that her perfect, pure-blood son had been sorted into Gryffindor as opposed to Slytherin as was the family tradition, and the Howler he’d received at breakfast on his first day had showed off her displeasure quite efficiently. Maybe bringing home a digital clock shaped like the Leaning Tower of Pisa had been one step too far for her. She definitely wasn’t happy about her son being friends with a muggle-born like himself, so it was more than possible.
Still, Lea thought that not letting him go home for Christmas a little much and Isa seemed even more miserable about it than he’d been all term. Both of them had gone home for Christmas during their previous years, but Lea had made his excuses this time - “Loads of homework, mum! Loads with a capital ‘L’”- due to having received an Owl saying that his family were going to spend the festive season with his Great Aunt Mildred. If Isa’d been going home too, he’d probably have suffered the company of his more distant relations, but since he said he was staying he wanted to too, if only to keep him company and perhaps find out what was up.
On the first day of the Holidays, Isa had skipped dinner in favour of doing homework in the Common Room. Their extra subjects had increased their workload, yes, but to work on the first day of the holidays? That was a bit much, as far as Lea was concerned. Filled with food and steeling himself as he prepared to broach the subject of Isa’s weird behaviour, Lea jogged past the enormous Christmas Trees in the entrance hall and made short work of the journey to the Gryffindor Tower, skirting past an over-excited Peeves and remembering to avoid the Vanishing Step on the way to the Fat Lady’s corridor.
“Bubotuber pus,” Lea said, wrinkling his nose unhappily as he gave her the password. “That’s not very festive.”
The Fat Lady looked decidedly grumpy. She’d made something of a fool of herself a couple of days ago when she’d gotten extremely drunk with her friend Violet and forgotten the password herself, locking all of the Gryffindors out of the Common Room for four hours until a prefect saw their Head of House about making her sober up enough to remember. Since then, she’d been temporarily banned from drinking too much and had grown quite sullen because of it.
“Yes, well,” she blustered, sounding very much like she was about to give him a mouthful, “I’m not feeling very festive,” she finished obstinately, as though prematurely running out of steam.
Lea shrugged as he stepped through the portrait hole and into the common room. He had bigger, and far more important things to think about than the alcohol-deprived misery of a painting.
The Common Room was almost empty; nearly everybody had gone home for the holidays. The only person present was exactly who Lea had hoped to see: Isa. He sat stiffly on one of the sofas, his apparently half-done homework lying on the coffee table with his open Potions text book next to it and his quill lying haphazardly on top, bathed in the light of the roaring fire. The room was as cosy and warm as ever despite the snow hitting the window, but it felt to Lea like some of the chill from outside had managed to somehow creep in.
He frowned, but tried to plaster on a smile that ended up looking and feeling rather unconvincing as Isa tore his eyes from the fire to look at him instead.
“If you run, you’ll still make dinner,” he said, allowing the expression to slip as he walked over.
Isa avoided his eyes. He didn’t look well at all. He was pale and appeared to be suffering from a cold. He’d been like that on and off all term, but Lea’d put it down to the weather because it didn’t seem like anything that a Pepper Up potion couldn’t cure. He figured that it was either that, or the strain of his extra workload. Well, he had been daft enough to pick a hard subject like Arithmancy. Regardless of what was causing his illness, he’d been off with him in particular and, while the room was quiet, he figured it was a good time to both ask about it and give a grudging apology for buying him a muggle present from his holidays.
“I’m not hungry,” Isa said dully, his frown deepening. “I don’t feel well.”
Lea threw himself onto the sofa next to him and gave him a disbelieving look, scowling slightly. “Uh... are you okay? You’ve been really off all term, if it’s because of the present, I didn’t think your parents would mind that much. It’s only a silly old clo--”
“It’s not that,” Isa said, cutting him off wearily.
The interruption was quiet, but it was enough to stop Lea talking and make an uncomfortable silence hang between them that was broken only by the crackling from the fireplace. He looked at his friend expectantly, but Isa avoided his eyes. It took him a good few minutes to ball up the courage to speak again.
“It’s nothing you’ve done,” he said quietly, “it’s something that happened over the holidays while you were away.”
Lea tried not to look as relieved as he felt. He was glad it wasn’t his fault, and that it didn’t seem to stem from either his House or his decision to befriend somebody that his mother and father referred to as a ‘mudblood’. It had taken him days to get him to admit what the term actually meant and even when he did he’d apologised profusely, even though Lea didn’t take it anywhere near as badly as Isa had expected. He wasn’t too well-versed in the terminology and culture of the Wizarding World, as was to be expected given his heritage, and while Isa’s parents seemed to hate him for it, it made dealing with insults much easier if he didn’t know that he was supposed to be offended.
“... did your mom find out that you accidentally set the curtains in the Great Hall on fire when you deflected that spell of Ienz--”
“It’s nothing like that,” he sounded thoroughly miserable, as though being punished for a spat between himself and his sworn Slytherin enemy was preferable to whatever actually was causing the problem. “I... while you were away, something... happened. The Headmaster told me not to tell anybody, so if I tell you, you have to promise not to mention it to anyone.”
He didn't look too thrilled at the prospect of spilling his secret.
Lea nodded fervently, but the frown didn’t leave his face for even a second. If he’d been sworn to secrecy, he knew that it had to be something really bad. Had he been caught using underage magic? That was grounds to for expulsion, never mind anything else! Just as he was wondering whether he was on probation for casting something he shouldn’t have in the presence of muggles, Isa spoke again and effectively killed his train of thought.
“I got bitten,” he said quietly, sounding very much like just saying the words caused him great pain and embarrassment. “By a werewolf.”
He didn’t look at Lea for a long time. When he did, his eyes widened in surprise at what he said.
“So?” Lea said blinking, a confused look on his face.
Isa shook his head, having obviously expected him to look fearful, sickened or even revolted at the revelation. It wasn’t every day that somebody responded to such an admission so blithely.
“I mean that I’m a werewolf now, too!” he said, keeping his voice low even though the room was empty. “When he bit me, I got infected and now I’m one as well!”
Lea nodded, his confused expression turning into a scowl. “Okay,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “is that why you’ve been looking ill all term?”
Isa looked as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing. He’d just admitted to his best friend that he was doomed to turn into a snarling beast once a month for the rest of his life and he was asking trivial questions about him looking sickly every so often!
“Well, yes, but - I- well -,” he practically spluttered, barely managing to keep his calm demeanour intact. “Aren’t you scared?”
Lea thought about it for a moment. It was kind of hard to believe that Isa was now the subject of more than a dozen horror movies (some of which he’d sneaked out of bed to watch when he was younger and had even got shouted at by his parents for). It was definitely weird to think that he’d never be the same as he was before, but he didn’t find it particularly scary. As long as he didn’t attack him, anyway.
“No,” he replied, “I bet loads of wizards are werewolves, aren’t they?”
Isa shook his head. “No,” he said, frowning more deeply than ever. “A lot of wizards hate werewolves - people like my parents usually hate them more than muggle-borns, they say they’re half-breeds... werewolves find it really hard to get jobs and everything. Most of them live in poverty because no one will employ them.”
Lea frowned as he let that sink in. He thought some wizards were really horrible, Isa’s parents included, but he thought even less of them now. He actually looked a little bit annoyed and decided that if he did have trouble in the future, he’d definitely help him out.
“Is that why you’re staying here for Christmas?” he asked, tilting his head. “Because your parents won’t have you at home?”
To his surprise, Isa shook his head. “No, the Headmaster has been making sure I take a potion every month so that I don’t attack anybody,” he said quietly, looking a little peaky at having to admit that. “I still change, but I keep my sense of self... I’ve been spending the nights of the full moon in the infirmary.”
Lea screwed his face up slightly as he thought about that. From his Astrology lessons, he knew that there was a full moon happening over the holiday, so that explained that. He figured that if the full moon didn’t coincide with the Christmas Holidays, he’d have been allowed to go home regardless of his ‘condition’. His mom might have been a horrible woman with ridiculous prejudices and a bizarre and somewhat outdate ideology concerning blood status, but she obviously loved her son, even if she sent him a Howler once.
“Is that why you’ve been kind of avoiding me all term?” Lea asked, frowning a little bit more than he would have liked.
Isa gave a sad, sullen nod of confirmation.
He hadn’t been totally off with him, of course. They’d hung around together, done homework together and picked mostly the same elective lessons -(Isa’d gone for Arithmancy while Lea’d picked Care of Magical Creatures)- and had still caused the usual amount of trouble, but Lea had known that Isa’s heart wasn’t really in it. He’d seemed preoccupied, and then there were the occasional days when he’d been ill and hadn’t returned to their dormitory... it all made sense now.
“You should have said something,” Lea said grouchily, giving him a shove in the shoulder. “I’ve been worried that I’d done something the whole time!”
He folded his arms and gave him a half-hearted glare, happy that it wasn’t his fault even if he did feel a pang of guilt for being happy when the reason was apparently so much worse. He just couldn’t help it.
“You... don’t hate me?” Isa asked tentatively, still looking unsure.
Lea goggled at him, uncrossing his arms and staring at him as though he’d just grown a full-length beard and donned a pink, frilled dress in the space of time it took him ask that question.
“Of course I don’t hate you!” he said, giving him an incredulous look. “Why would I hate you? You still like me even though I’m a muggle-born, why would I hate you because you’re a werewolf?”
He found the question entirely ridiculous and his tone showed it, but when met with Isa’s silence his expression and voice softened. He slung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to him with a great measure of awkwardness, despite or probably because of the affection in the action. He smiled and used his other hand to tap the closer of Isa’s temples with a finger.
“You’re my best friend,” he said, trying to reassure him. “B-E-S-T F-R-I-E-N-D, got it memorized? Not even you going all mad and furry once a month is gonna make me hate you. Stupid.”
And with that, he pulled him into a hug. He was glad the Common Room was empty except for them, because doing such a thing in front of other people would have more than just dented his pride and quite likely stripped him of his carefully nurtured cool reputation. He’d spent two years building and polishing that and he wouldn’t want something like a hug to ruin it for him. To his surprise, Isa didn’t resist.
"Thanks, Lea."
Lea nodded, but after a moment he asked, “what’s it like?”
Isa drew a shaky breath before answering. Lea had a feeling that he was crying, but he stared resolutely at the fire as to not draw attention to that fact. He wouldn’t want to be caught blubbing, not even by Isa, so he didn’t want to embarrass him for doing it.
“Painful,” Isa said softly. “And scary.”
That was understandable. Even if you’ve done it once before, he imagined that changing into a wolf once a month, complete with the cracking and lengthening of bones, the sprouting of fur and the panic that you might go crazy and hurt somebody would be scary. He swallowed hard, unhappy that his best friend had to go through that and gave him an unconscious squeeze before loosening his grip on him.
Even when he had, he made sure to look at his nails for long enough to give Isa time to wipe his eyes on one of his sleeves.
“I bet,” he said lamely, “still, I’m not going to start avoiding you or anything.”
Isa nodded again, looking perkier than he had all term. “Promise you won’t tell anybody?”
Lea grinned and reached into his pocket. “Of course I won’t!” he reassured him before shoving a (slightly fluffy) pumpkin pasty into Isa’s hand. “Now shut up and eat that. You can’t go all night without eating something.”
He gave him a slightly amused and guilty look as Isa picked a strand of cotton from a bit of the oozing filling with a grimace, but didn’t hesitate to give him a dead arm for daring to do so.
“You’re so ungrateful!” he huffed, still grinning.