Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.
A/N: This is my first story here, and I wanted to preface it with a short introductory chapter, just to give readers (if there are any) an example of my writing, as well as to set a starting point for the story. If you review and tell me you don't like it, please tell me why you don't - if you loved it, please tell me why you loved it.
It all begins on platform 9 ¾, when Remus has chocolate on his hands: it dusts his fingers, is stuck beneath his nails and crisscrosses in the creases of his palm that betray his mental, rather than physical, age (which happens to be exactly 11 1/12 years, to the day).
He is alone in a midst of hurried people in curious clothes, not because his relatives have abandoned him, but actually because they said their goodbyes before he went through the barrier. Remus dislikes goodbyes, because he fears that after he has used up all of their value, and when they actually are true goodbyes, forever, they will mean nothing at all. As such, he saves his true parting words safely in a little dust-gathering box in the corner of his mind, like the memories he sometimes represses so that they are not over-remembered. Whenever he lets them bubble to the surface they are like cool minty water on the tongue – sweet and fresh, like spring.
A shout, sharp and angry, draws Remus' attention to a boy who is currently storming away from a group of four adults who all are frighteningly alike in carriage rather than looks. They stand with ramrod-straight backs; noses tilted up in a way that makes his gut twist in sudden irrational repulsion, and have a strong aura of wealth. The boy, in contrast, has his shoulders hunched in anger, his hands shoved into jean pockets, and jet-black hair that is extremely unkempt, but nonetheless seems to have a similar emission of power, if only in a less refined, snobbish way.
It is to Remus' slight amusement and greater astonishment that the dark-haired boy flings himself down onto the bench right next to him, but seems completely ignorant of Remus' presence. The boy simply mutters to himself, and Remus catches phrases like "stuck-up bastards" and "what do they know" amidst many curse words.
After his heartbeat slows to a normal speed, he gathers his courage and says, "Hey, do you want some chocolate?"
The boy starts and looks up at Remus, noticing him for the first time. "What?" His voice is boyish but rough, and Remus is caught off-guard by his eyes, which are light grey and hard as steel.
"I said-" Remus begins again, but is cut off.
"I know what you said, idiot. Why in the world would you offer me chocolate?"
Remus stares at this boy. "Isn't that what you do, generally, when someone is upset?"
To his surprise, the dark-haired boy laughs. "What, did you read a social handbook or something?"
Remus has, actually, but he doesn't mention this. It didn't mention chocolate, anyway – it said something like 'Offer a grieving acquaintance a kind note (we suggest Hallmark) or a kitten to alleviate their sadness.'
"But thanks," the boy continues, "I will take the chocolate."
"Remus Lupin." He holds out a bar.
"Sirius Black," the boy introduces himself, and shakes on the chocolate.
Thus begins the friendship that Remus will sometimes hate, less often love and forever hold precious.
For him, friends are hard to come by.
Thank you so much for reading!