Chapter 3
Remus was awoken the next morning by a large boot nudging him in the side.
"Wake up boy. The wife says you're my new farm hand, and the work starts at dawn," said a deep, gravelly voice. "What's your name anyway?"
"Remus, sir." He answered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Well Remus, I hear you had a rough go of it so far, but I'm going to need you to work hard and do as you're told. Think you can manage that? I'm Jim by the way."
"I can manage, sir." Remus replied, already trying to figure out how he was going to get out of this situation. He figured he'd work hard for the day to pay them for their generosity, then escape in the night while they slept.
His plan seemed as good as any, until Jim informed him that they'd be heading into London that day. Remus helped him load the wagon, and hook up the mare (thanking his lucky stars that he's spent a lonely childhood immersed in the sizable collection of books at Lupin Cottage), and in what seemed like no time, they were on their way.
The trip from the Yorkshire Countryside to London took all of that day, and part of the next. They stopped only to make camp and eat more of Beth's stew, rising as soon as the sun rose the next morning.
When they finally arrived in London, Remus was weary from the long hours bumping along in the wagon. He couldn't remember going much of anywhere other than Lupin Cottage, and certainly not by wagon. He and Lyall used the floo on the rare occasion he'd been allowed out of the house.
Despite his aches and exhaustion, he stared around him at the city that was bustling with activity. The sky was grey with smog and smoke, but no one seemed to notice or mind the lack of fresh air. He was in awe of the size of the stonework buildings around him. He'd never seen so many people in one place since Lyall preferred to leave him home, pretending he didn't exist. Remus shook off the thoughts of Lyall, and returned to observing the surroundings, and forming a plan. He felt his best option was to get away from Jim as quickly as possible, so while the man was asking a passerby about the best place to hawk his wares, Remus slipped quietly off the wagon and disappeared into the London crowd.
Over the next few days, Remus realized that he needed a better plan. He spent his nights shivering on the cold streets, and his days trying to find work. No one had much use for a skinny, scarred street waif though, and he wasn't having any luck. Occasionally, a kind soul was willing to part with some bread or (if he was really lucky) a bit of sausage, but any other food he had to steal. He felt enormously guilty about it, of course, but had reasoned that it was necessary to his survival.
It has been a week since Lyall had sent him back when Remus smelled what could only be fresh chips. His mouth immediately started to water. The closer he got to the full moon, the more his hunger was becoming unbearable.
He lingered casually around the chip vendor, trying not to draw attention to himself. When a woman dropped the change handed to her by the man and he went to pick it up for her, Remus seized his chance, darting a hand out to grab a greasy paper full of chips. He hadn't been quick enough however, and the chip vendor's meaty hand grabbed him by the wrist.
"And just what're'ya up ta boy?" He asked Remus.
"Please sir, I'm so hungry. I'm sorry! Please let me go!" Remus struggled against the man's grip.
"Call the bobby," the man told the woman who had stayed to watch the drama unfold. "I caught me a thief."
"No! Please!" Cried Remus, continuing to try and wrest his arm back. But it was no use, the policeman was there faster than Remus would have thought possible. A crowd was gathering to watch the young boy struggle against his fate.
Suddenly the chip vendor pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned. " 'e burnt me! I don't know how but 'e did!"
Remus began to panic even more after he realized he'd had a bout of accidental magic. Now not only was he in trouble with the muggles police for stealing, but the ministry would be after him for performing magic in front of muggles.
"Let's go son." The bobby said, taking Remus by the arm. "It's down at the station with you." He started to tug him down the road.
"Please," Remus implored him, "my father died a week ago, and I've been on my own ever since. I've been trying to find work, but no one will take me on."
"You've been on your own for a week? Where's your ma? You don't have anyone else to go to? You're just a lad."
"My mom died when I was born, and my dad was the last family I had." Remus told him.
"How about this," the man said. "Instead of taking you to the station, I'll take you down to the orphanage. But you never steal again, agreed?" He watched Remus consider his offer. "You'll surely end up in the workhouse if you choose the station..."
Reluctantly, Remus agreed. Neither option was a good one, but he supposed that he had a better chance of escaping the orphanage than he did of making it out of the work house.
The policeman let him go, and the two walked in fairly companionable silence as they made their way through the twisting streets.
When they arrived at their destination, Remus looked up at the forbidding stone building with trepidation. It certainly didn't look welcoming, although he supposed that the ivy making its way up the facade did soften it a bit.
They walked together up the steps and through the front door to a desk where a severe, pinch-faced woman sat.
"Mrs. Cole." The Bobby greeted her, removing his hat as he did so. "This boy was found in the town square attempting to steal some chips. His pa died about a week ago, and he's been on the streets since." He turned to Remus. This is where I leave you, son. Remember what I said about the thieving. This is your last chance, I won't be so kind if I catch you again."
"Understood, sir." Remus replied. "Thank you."
The bobby offered him a smile, put his hat back on, and left the way they had entered.
"What's your name, boy?" Mrs. Cole asked him.
"Remus, ma'am." He replied.
"No surname?"
"None that I'd care to keep or relate."
"Well then Remus, I'll not tolerate any thieving around here. But I suspect it won't be an issue once you're being fed regularly, will it?"
"No, ma'am."
"Good, follow me." She stepped around the large wooden desk, and beckoned with a finger. She led him up a large staircase. "We're currently pretty full, in fact there's only one available bed. Mind you make the most of it. The other boy who stays in that room has a reputation amongst the other kids, and no one else will room with him. But it can't be helped. I run a tight ship, nothing goes on around here that I don't know about. Remember that because I'm not big on second chances, especially when it sounds like you're already on yours. Any issue from you, and it will be straight to the workhouse. Is that clear?" Here she stopped in front of a large brown door and looked at Remus expectantly.
"Yes, ma'am." Remus replied, unsure what else to say to such a welcome.
"Good. Now remember, top of the stairs, third door on the right. You don't go into anyone else's room without having been invited." She opened the door. "Tom, this is Remus. He'll be your roommate for the foreseeable future." She told the dark-haired boy who had stood from his place at a small desk upon hearing her enter. "Remus, this is Tom Riddle."
