The Fire of the Stars

by She-who-loves-fanfiction

Remus is waiting for me to speak, I think as he edges hesitantly into the room. He's going to be waiting a long time. The fire's hot on my back, her hand is moving in a circle on my shoulder and my mind is quiet apart from her name. She tastes like peppermint and alcohol, sharp and tangy and sweet. I'm burning, imploding, exploding, whole body laid out for the fire of the stars. OC

Disclaimer: It has been a while, but I still do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: This story is rather different. It's not really about the Marauders at all, apart from Remus, but I would like to say now, this story will contain some sensitive topics that could upset some people. Just so you know. If you don't want to read that sort of thing, this probably won't be for you. Also, CAUTION: MASSIVE PLOT TWISTS AND CLIFFHANGERS AHEAD.
The chapter is slow, but it gets more interesting! I promise!
Please follow, favourite and review if you like it!
Enjoy xx

They say it goes after a while, the feeling of wanting someone so much that it pains every fibre of your being, but it hasn't left me just yet. I'm still filled with the same intense longing every time I look at them, every time they look at me. Their grey-green eyes shine in the sun, and their hair catches the light, looking coppery, almost golden. Every move they make is somehow graceful, calculated, somehow like a dancer. Every move they make entrances me, entraps me, keeps me under their spell. It sucks almost as the voices. Almost.

---

The sun is smothered by storm clouds by noon, replacing the cheery optimism of the first day back to school with a dreary forlornness that settles on the happy attitude of the rest of the students on the train like April showers. The compartment I've chosen is tiny, probably not meant for students to use at all, but the cramped dusty space is just large enough for me to sit and read, book on my knees, as the countryside races past me and the sky changes from light to a deep, velvety darkness. The rumble of voices from the corridor combines with the thunderous rattling of the carriages as Hogwarts Express trundles along the tracks, the movement soothing, like a mother rocking a baby in cradle, warm and enveloping, the school welcoming us home.

As the train screeches to the stop in Hogsmeade, smoke billowing from under it, the loud chatter of the other pupils clambering off the train jerks me out of my reverie, and I slip out of the cloudy glass door and into the corridor, leaping lightly off the carriage door and onto the crowded platform, instantly lost in the crowds of heads and voices. I'm anxiously fingering my Prefect badge as I shuffle through the mob, my untied laces dragging on the concrete behind me. Crap. Prefect meeting.

There's a loud group of boys near to me, and I recognise the voices of James Potter and Sirius Black with a tired sigh. Behind them, trailing slightly, are two other boys, deep in conversation, a blonde boy I don't know the name of, and the shy one I'm pretty sure is called Lupin, who's got a shiny Prefect badge that catches the light from the dim lamps lighting the station. Biting my lip, I hurry up to them and tap him on the shoulder.
"Sorry, I don't know your name, I just realised I completely forgot the Prefect meeting, and I noticed that you were wearing a badge, so I thought…"
"Oh, um, Whittiker, isn't it?"
"Mhm."
"Yeah, Lily mentioned that you were missing. You didn't miss much, just that the password for the Prefects' bathroom is Paint pot, and that the rota for Prefect rounds will be on the common room noticeboards. I'm Remus, by the way."
He holds out his hand, and I shake it firmly; it's a sturdy handshake, warm and reassuring.
"I'm Elan."
His smile is crooked, and it makes me want to smile.
"I'll see you later, then?"
"Yeah." I nod gratefully at him as he breaks off, laughing and jostling with his friends, dipping back into the conversation like a fish to water.

I'm shivering as I climb into the last carriage along with a couple of excitable second-year girls, pressing myself into the edge of the carriage door and avoiding all eye contact, pulling out my dog-eared book again and settling back into the comfortable rhythm of reading. The carriage bumps on the uneven road, and the journey doesn't seem as long when I'm engrossed in the better world of fiction.

"Elan! Where were you? We were looking for you!"
The other occupants of my sixth year Ravenclaw dorm come hurrying up to me after the feast as I'm staggering out of the Hall, rubbing my stomach, stuffed. Will, known as Wilhelmina to precisely no one, looks indignant, waving her hands in the air, and Elsie nods in agreement behind her, blonde plaits flying. Marie just looks curious, eyes questioning, but her arms are folded in frustration.
"Sorry, I lost track of time."
"And you sat at the other end of the table from us!"
"Sorry."

"Let's just go up to the dormitory."
I hate how tense we are, how silent we are as we approach the common room door, and the eagle knocker comes alive in a lyrical, soft voice.
"What came first, the phoenix or the flame?"
"Seeing as the sun is a burning ball of gas and was around for billions of years before there was life on Earth, I think it's safe to assume that the flame came first."
"Excellent scientific knowledge."
Marie's quiet answer is sharp and to the point, and the door swings open.

I've always loved the common room, with the bookshelves curving around the walls, the beautiful blue sofas and armchairs, the enchanted music player that plays whatever music you want to hear, and the tables and desks littered with drawings and poems and writings, the whole of the house's work plastered across the walls like a kind of wallpaper, a scrapbook of every Ravenclaw to ever enter Hogwarts that is always expanding as each new year comes. It is a messy stunning paradise, and I wouldn't want to be in any other house.

There's just four of us Ravenclaw girls in our year, so our dorm is spacious, with the space for two extra beds meaning that we can fill up the dorm with more of our stuff. As we troop up the stairs Elsie and Marie are deep in conversation, while Will twists a single lock of her dark hair between her tan fingers and looks bored.

I snatch up my pyjamas from their neat place on my pillow, smiling inwardly at the care put in by the house elves, and hurry into the bathroom to get changed. When I've slipped into my vest and shorts, I stand in front of the mirror, surveying my exhausted body and pale face, eyes raking over the scar on my collarbone as I listen to them speak excitedly as they get into bed.
I may have known these girls since I was eleven, but right now they feel like strangers.

Let me know what you thought!
Arigato,
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx