Disclaimer: I am neither J. K. Rowling nor Moffat—and they're not each other, so this would have to be fanfiction anyway—so I don't own any of the characters or settings or anything. Just appropriating them for my own amusement (and hopefully yours as well).
A/N: Major credits to allegrafp for having a Moony obsession that gave me Remus on the brain; for telling me that Hamish was Scottish for James and getting the mental gears irreversibly turning in the direction of this story; for discussing all things British and Sherlocky and Maraudery with me at length; and for reading this first and making suggestions. As I said, major credits. (She writes fanfiction too, and it's good! I recommend it! Look her up!)
Talking to Dumbledore had forced Remus to think about all the changes he was planning. As he made yet another pot of bread pudding, he thought seriously about living as a Muggle for the first time. When the pudding was done and he had poured it into a bowl, Remus sat at the kitchen table and tried to plan the logistics of his coming transition.
If he was going to start a new life, he may as well do the thing properly and become someone completely different. That—it was so obvious that Remus was astonished that he'd never thought of it before—would necessitate a new name.
Remus turned his name over in his head. Remus John Lupin. He heard his first name in a dozen voices, most of them belonging to people who were dead now. His parents, Lily, and for a few years the other Marauders had called him Remus so often that he'd sometimes wondered if it were possible for a name to wear out. Yes, it would have to go—no one could say "Remus" as bracingly as James or as gently as Lily or as desperately as Peter or as enthusiastically as Sirius (he meant "Black"), and he didn't want to hear them try.
Lupin would have to go, too. By some joke of fate, his name matched his condition, and, in spite of his fondness for his father's family, he'd long wanted to be rid of the appellation. He'd thought the name was too much a part of him to get rid of it, but now that he had decided to take a new name he was glad of the opportunity to cast off the mocking surname.
But John. No one had ever called him John, but he'd always known it was a part of him. He had no memories attached to the name, just a tiny sense of self wrapped up in it. Perhaps this was the sort of thing he could keep. Yes, he decided, he would.
All right, then, he had one name. He decided to make John his first name, since—at least for a while—it would be the only name he bore that felt like it belonged to him. Working in order, he needed a middle name next. Somehow it felt right for the middle name to honor someone; if the name wasn't going to feel like it was his, it could belong to someone else, someone he loved. This flew in the face of his entire scheme to leave everything behind, but in reality the thought of trying to forget his friends was more repugnant than he could bear, so he accepted what felt right.
His mind first reached for Sirius's name, but, before he could try out the sound of "John Sirius" in his head, Remus remembered his so-called friend's treachery and mentally dropped the name that suddenly scalded him. John James, then? No. Too biblical, and the alliteration sounded stupid. But John Peter was too biblical, too, so Remus returned to John James. Perhaps a variant on James would work better. Remus had some Scottish blood, and "James" in Scottish was "Hamish" . . . John Hamish. There was something to that.
Now for a surname. The first thing that came to mind was the other Maruaders' last names, but a mental image of James's doodles of "Lily Potter" surrounded by hearts all over his parchments and textbooks and schedules squashed that idea. Dumbledore might be the best man Remus had ever met, but it was a strange name, especially for the Muggle world, and taking his name would mean . . . what? He saw himself as Dumbledore's child? No. This was getting too weird.
Then something occurred to Remus—so obvious that he could scarcely believe it hadn't made itself known to him sooner. His mother's maiden name! She had been a Watson before she married, so being a Watson was as much a part of Remus's heritage as being a Lupin. Watson: It was a nice, normal, comforting name, capable of making him anonymous but also befitting of someone more distinguished and consequential. Remus had always liked his maternal grandfather; now, for the first time since Granddad had died, there would be another Mr. Watson about. Remus hoped he could live up to the title.
Remus assembled his new name in his head and turned it over and over. John Hamish Watson. John. Hamish. Watson. Yes, Remus decided. John Hamish Watson would do nicely.
A/N: Are you buying it? Do you like it? How much do you want to hear about uni and med school? What about Afghanistan? Please review and give me feedback and ideas and suggestions!