CHAPTER ONE
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-: second year :-

── IN WHICH THEY EXPLORE THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

. . .

IT BECAME EVIDENT that year at university would much be the same as the last because they were once more sat in Albus's office awaiting his arrival much too earlier and they were all lounging around on the plush deep green couches with their never ending cushions, coffee stains and black burn marks of Regulus being too carefree with his cigarettes.

Sirius was balanced on the edge of the couch, as straight-edged as usual, all angular lines with his suit jacket folded over the side where an ink pot sat, dipping his fountain pen in every now and then to keep writing in Latin. Peter, in his god-awful rugby top that he never ironed and pressed trousers was drinking his coffee with the speed of a man threatened with its removal and eloquence of a giraffe all whilst tapping his wand against his thigh and somehow, Regulus's cigarette smoke was offering him a world of offence because every time the man spoke he would grimace before replying as normal as always.

James and Juliette sat side by side on the sofa to the left, legs folded and silent as James briefly scoured over the previously set translation work and Juliette smoked a Virginia Slim over a well-read copy of Ovior's The Wraith, pointing out his mistakes.

It was the first of November, and the campus was blooming in shades of orange and yellow, save for the evergreen fur the centre of the courtyard of the Monserra building. The sky a moody grey and just beyond the campus buildings sat the snowy caps of the mountains, an indication of the wintery temperature outside. Sirius's car sat just outside the courtyard, through the heightened brick archway, cherry red and engine still warm from picking up Juliette and James from their shared flat in the ever growing town surrounding the Hogwarts institutions.

"You need an aorist attributive here, not the future." Juliette murmured, her shoulder brushing against James' in a smear of navy blue cashmere. "Here." Sirius looked up from his Latin, eyes glancing over.

"Yeah. Thanks." James nodded. "Sirius?" His friend nodded, reaching over and passing the bottle of ink. There was a scribble, an adjustment made before it was returned and the door was pushed open.

"Good morning." Albus said, placing down his wand and the leather file and smiled, briefly. His hair was a shock more white than it usually was and his suit complete by a deep purple velvet blazer "James, the mountain tea?" He asked, wise face looking between the group, the shock of white-silver beard somehow longer than before the week holiday. "Ah, is that the translation I was promised?"

"Yes." James nodded, standing up and reaching over Peter to pass it to their Professor before straightening the cream knit tennis jumper before disappearing into the adjoining room of Albus' office, in which a small kitchen sat, there was the sound of water running as the kettle was filled and a murmured spell that allowed heat to the gas stove.

"It is but a brief conversation we are to have today in order to begin our topic this term." Albus said, as he sat behind his desk. "Before a walk to consider."

"And what, pray tell, is it this time?" Sirius asked, reaching to his pocket to remove the small carton of cigarettes. Camels, exclusively. Albus leant over, flicking off the top of the gold engraved lighter, allowing Sirius to ignite it.

"I am glad you asked, Sirius." Albus replied. "It may appear quite just juvenile for all of your tastes, however for our overarching discussion throughout the term it is a necessity, particularly considering a later translation I shall be giving you in just a few weeks." He stood from his chair, wand pointing towards the blackboard hidden beneath a heavy damask curtains he had retrieved from a Warlock's castle in Romania. A piece of chalk floated up above the students, and Albus's neat, curled handwriting, similar to the hand of James or Juliette's, began to scrawl across the dark grey.

"The Seven Deadly Sins?" Peter's brow curved as he furrowed, evidently confused. A shared glance between brothers caused perhaps the most harshest of judgements. "Is it not more important to look deeper into the Greek values, Al?"

It was Juliette's turn to look most confused. "We have covered that, Peter, quite in depth, if you do not recall what we studied no more than a year ago. "Is it not far more than just important to see quite what they repressed so heavily?"

"There was not a certain code of conduct regarding morality, Juliette." Sirius chimed in. "For it was the gods that guided the people, it is reflected in everything we know of them."

"Nietzsche's ideas of Apollonian and Dionysian within The Birth of Tragedy certainly explores that." Regulus said, most plainly. "The depictions of the variations of opposing interpretations - Apollonian traits being civilising, analytical, and constructive, whereas Dionysian traits explore the chaotic, ecstatic, and destructive."

"Certainly in Homer-" Sirius's words were almost met with a groan, the familiarity of his starting point sparking small smiles, "- the Homeric Greeks did not abide by a moral code, that is directly set out in Muggle institutions and religions today, whereas it is clear this people devoted the utmost faith in their gods to guide them. Their repressions are a result of this guide, rather than a moral code, but do not mistake me, it is clear from The Iliad, the gods have nothing to do with morals; 'the rain falls alike upon the just and the unjust'."

"Guthrie 7, yes, Sirius." Albus nodded. "The gods' actions are, in fact, controlled by the same motivations as the humans': anger, revenge, love, pity, and fear, incredibly human emotions. The gods are aligned with the humans, which allowed them such faith in one another. The gods quarrel among themselves like children, much like each of you do too, each god demanding his own way, and is most interesting how this alignment in motivation continues to play out. James, the tea." He said, as the kettle began to whistle.

"I believe it's someone else's turn now." James's eyebrows rose above the round frames of his glasses. "Is it not?"

"Ah, quarrelling like children." Albus said, and instead waved his wand, once, and there was the sound of of water pouring, bubbling into the metal teapot already infused with plenty of the dried Sideritis. "No matter. Instead, James, do you wish to remind us of the state of affairs between Akhilleus and Agamemnon?"

"He was dishonoured when Agamemnon took his mistress, Briseis." James replied. "Akhilleus prayed to his mother, Thetis, and asked her to approach Zeus and ask him to 'help the Trojans, and pin the Achaians back against the ships and the water, I dying'. Thetis did as her son asked, and Zeus agreed to help the Trojans. Thetis persuaded Zeus by making him feel sorry for her and empathize with her. Zeus agreed to help, not to-"

There was a knock at the door. Albus looked up, alarmed. "Please, James, forgive me. Continue your exploration with your classmates."

James continued to speak as Albus opened the door, head peering around the corner, before stepping out and closing the door behind him. He continued, his friends nodding slowly in agreement as they were reminded of the moment within the key text to their studies. That was until, with some taunt in his step and the scraping of the seat pushing back from the tension, Peter stood up. He moved closer to the door, pressing his ear to the wood.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, the first to speak through the one of the last drags of his cigarette.

"Some fellow named Remus." Peter replied, listening carefully. "Says he studied Greek and Classics at a Muggle University."

"And wants to study here?" Juliette asked. "I do not remember a Remus from school."

"Didn't go. Was one of those who went to Muggle school and got tutored." Peter continued. "Poor chap, doesn't seem to understand how particular Albus is. Seems quite nice, as well... Oops."

He was back in his chair in a mere second, Albus returning through the door and closing it gently behind him. "Forgive me. It's an entire shame." He murmured to himself, before turning back to his class. And he did not hesitate to return to leading their discussion. "Within the Bible, the tales within it are fables. They are teaching, perhaps, preaching, morals and how followers should behave. The tales of the gods, however, consistently change their minds as to how people should behave and believe, they are constantly fighting one another. They led the people according to how each god felt. The gods, then, had moral characters beset by many of the same frailties that humans possessed. The gods approached the level of Greek men because there was an element of human nature in them, not a hint of the divine in man. However, gods are still placed higher than man. But there were ways around adjusting to how the gods viewed individuals despite this. Juliette, how so?"

"Individuals?" Juliette repeated, looking up at the professor. She crossed her legs, attention turning to her. "Simply, the gods were influenced by worship and praise. The Greeks could help create favourable conditions for themselves by praying to the gods, sacrificing, and offering gifts associated primarily with the specific god they are offering at altars to and holding ceremonies in honour of the gods. For instance, those who worshipped and offered gifts and sacrifices to Dionysus would focus upon drinking, creating this feeling of ecstasy or divine possession. These acts could influence the gods to the point of changing individual destinies. The gods were easily influenced and a simple prayer and offering could change their mind in an instance to favour a person."

"Correct. The gods were fickle, in that sense, and often in their fickleness, their own moral conduct did not abide with what guidance they laid out for their worshippers. The origins of the seven deadly sins came from the Greek, first cemented in history through the thoughts of fourth century monk Evagrius Ponticus."

Albus's words were joined by the hasty scribbling of notes of pointed nibs against paper. Below them, emerging out of the building into the courtyard, was one Remus Lupin, dejected and envious as his eyes travelled up the tangle of ivy against age-old brick, to the open window from which he could hear the elusive professor's teachings.

He pressed onwards. "The evil thoughts were gastrimargia, gluttony, porneia, prostitution and fornication - alternatively and more typically known as list. Philargyria, avarice, hyperephania or hubris pride or arrogance, lype, envy, orge wrath, and akedia, dejection." Albus listed. His gaze crossed over his students. "Yes, Regulus?"

"Perhaps I misunderstood you, Albus. You said they came from the thoughts of a fourth century monk?"

"The crossing of theologies, considering the seemingly orthodox nature of Christianity and the opposing chaos seen within the Greeks, is not unheard of, Regulus." Albus folded his palms. "Indeed, these evil thoughts were seen first in Christianity, but lay deeply routed within Ancient Greek, as with most concepts upon this wretched creation we call home. The ultimate reality of the gods was their duality - their benevolence to their people and their apt ability to personify a destructive force or concept. As such, many of the gods are representative of each of this deadly sins, and many of the tales you hear, whilst not condescending fables, host reasons against the deadly sins."

"Certainly." Sirius nodded in contentment. "Zeus and his hubris. Narcissus was punished for his excessive pride and arrogance and was doomed to fall in love with his own appearance. Avarice, greed, Hermes and his constant stealing, and Midas's ability to turn everything he touched to gold."

"And what about gluttony?" Juliette sat up, her legs having been curled carefully beneath her, hand smoothed over her trousers. "Gluttony is excess. Adephagia initially, but Comus, Dionysus... there is thought to be perhaps an parallel, an association even an equation between Adephagia and Demeter. So many gods appear with this overlap."

"You are correct. Glutton is excess, and many of the gods over-indulge - that is not a question." Albus nodded. "In fact, to say they over-indulge is an understatement, it is undeniable. Now, the tea, I don't want it getting cold." He waved his hand and the china teacups appear before them, a translucent, amber steaming tea before them. "Shall we walk to the library."

The group stood without hesitation.

△

"I went to lunch with Peter again." Sirius shut the door behind him, pushing his own key back into his pocket. Juliette looked up, from where she was sat on the sofa in the middle of the room, before the unlit fireplace, surrounded by books. "Where's James?" He asked.

"Shower." Juliette replied, hazily. She sat up, placed the sheet of parchment atop of the covered coffee table. "We have all made such mistake." She pushed the cork back into the ink, wiped the nib of her pen, placed it to dry beside it.

"Yes, but I believed myself smarter than to make such mistake again." Sirius left his coat on the stand by the door and crossed the room, finding a seat beside her. Their knees brushed. "I picked where we ate, said I didn't want to drink... I feel a headache coming on... he ordered wine no less, one of those when it's more expensive to order several glasses of than the bottle, mind you, and ate at least three courses."

"Of course he did." Juliette replied vaguely; it was not of news to her, Peter often took it upon himself to overindulge at the weakness of his friends' seemingly endless pockets, and would not hesitate to display an overexaggerated act of searching for his wallet that almost always ended with his company providing such necessary funds for his extravagant feast. 

"All the while I'm sat with another cup of tea and club sandwich watching him eat a rack of lamb." Sirius shook his head and reached for his cigarettes, lighting one instantly. It hang from his lips as his head rolled back against the untouched, almost stiff cushions of the side of the count empty from her presence. "Hardly touched any of the sides that came with it... appetizers and dessert, for lunch. Not that I mind all that much... just a dent in the allowance. Certainly he had the grace to wait between them, and I must say he talks about the quite interesting topics."

"I should not be so surprised if he asks you for help on his research this afternoon."

"He shouldn't. I have a headache." The corner of Sirius's lips turned upwards, gaze turning to land on her. "You wouldn't have any ice packs, would you?"

"Of course." She nodded, coming to a stand. "How tremendously infuriating." She murmured, perhaps to herself, and disappeared into the adjoining kitchen.

James suddenly appeared from the door to his room. "A nasty trick." He smiled, at his friend, lighting his own cigarette as he sat. "Peter. I saw three crows again." He added.

"How utterly wonderful." Sirius's replied drily. "Perhaps you shall take up Peter's offer of his girlfriend reading your tea leaves again, pray she might see the grim again and announce another inevitable end."

"What do they mean, Sirius?" James pressed.

"Balance. Mystery. Transformation."

Juliette returned with the ice packs. "Not the crows again, James, this is truly too much."

And she sat back down, Sirius kicking his feet up to hang, too long, over the edge of the sofa as his head rested in her lap, ice packs laid delicately over his eyes and forehead. His cigarette burnt close to the filter, and Juliette plucked it from his fingers to finish it, leaning to the closest stack of books, upon the top of sat a teacup from Albus' office, empty of amber tea and instead filled with ash and stubbed out cigarettes. Old lipstick stained the rim, and the sides were smudged with black.

James reached from his seat, almost losing his balance as he seized a pile of papers from atop of the cluttered coffee table. He wetted the top of his fingers briefly, swapped the hand holding his cigarette and began to leaf through them, skim-reading the beetle formed letters.

"I think there was some merit in what Peter was saying." James hummed, wetting the top of his finger to separate the pages he was reading. "What in Merlin's name does this have to do with Ancient Magic."

"At best it was actual Classics." Sirius murmured from beneath the cloth. He twisted in his seat, becoming more comfortable, Juliette's fingers combed through his hair. "Perhaps the man who interrupted would do pretty well."

"There's always merit in what Peter says." Juliette reached over, seized a glass half filled with whiskey. "James, could you open a window?"

Her best friend nodded half-heartedly and stood up, distracted, eyes still on the page as he moved to push up the pane, forcing a drop in temperature within.

"I suppose Albus must have his reasons." Sirius told them absentmindedly. "He always does, and as our only teacher it's almost impossible that he would teach us something we did not need."

"It was a particularly juvenile topic though, Sirius."

"Yes, particularly."

"Everyone knows about the seven deadly sins."

"Yes, suppose they do."

"'Seat me not anywise upon a chair, O thou fostered of Zeus, so long as Hector lieth uncared-for amid the huts.'" Sirius quoted, "the spiritual sin of Acedia, Homer." And that was that.

An apt description, for the three of them did nothing more but lounge about, drinking, smoking, reading and quoting to one another for much of the rest of that afternoon. It was November, after all, a time for the romantics and the academics to find their peace and harmony amongst their homes and the chaos of ancient times, for the black cat that sat in the building's stoop came to sit upon the old cream-painted fire escape attached to the building and didn't leave until James fetched it some left over meat from the kitchen, and began to meander about making teas and coffees before the returned to campus that evening, in hopes of finding Albus in his office for their discussion that evening, for James, Juliette and Regulus wished to improve their Latin. Sirius was simply there of his own volition, and it was believed Peter had his weekly walk with his girlfriend, too.

Sirius would drive them there, they would meet Regulus in the stoop below Monserra. He would be sat on the step, smoking a cigarette, smelling faintly of magic, using his free hand to stroke the top of a tabby cat's head. Peter would pass by, Sybil would offer them a friendly, but fraught smile - she didn't quite like any of the group, only just got on with James, who was polite to everyone he came across without fault. She found Juliette disagreeable, too quiet, not the femininity she was used to - according to Peter's overarching endearment of Sybil enjoying 'time with her girlfriends' - seemed to find Regulus's excessive smoking a fault and found Sirius entirely too indifferent and pretentious to her liking. 

And besides, Peter hated Latin, and knew just enough to get by. If not, he would come and find Sirius, or perhaps Regulus, when in dire needy. 

It had just gone November, and the heather on the highlands was purple. 

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