Hogwarts, September 1971
The first week of classes had flown by before any of the boys had realized, especially for Remus, who'd actually been enjoying himself quite a bit despite the circumstances. He'd always been the first one to wake up in the mornings and the first one to shower. Avoiding James was at the top of his to-do list since their petty squabble.
Remus had figured he was reading too far into it, that James probably wasn't as perturbed as he'd been acting (James hadn't acknowledged Remus's presence since that night and hardly granted him a second glance). Still, he found it difficult to remain around the trio much longer than a few minutes because things either ended up awkward and forced or Remus in general was left out of the loop.
It was better, he decided, that he just went about his business alone – as his father had told him to do. Perhaps this was the cold shoulder he'd been warned of. Should've listened to him in the first place and James probably wouldn't hate you.
But what did Remus care if anyone hated him?
Oh, you care, the wolf growled evilly.
Showering alone wasn't an issue for the Werewolf. It was uncomfortable enough as it was to have James and Sirius always trying to sneak a look at the scars poking out from his collar and sleeves. Peter was, on the other hand, very indiscreet and did not try to hide his nosiness, settling to stare at Remus in the common room and at the dinner table. To have all eyes on him during a shower would be enough to break him.
Besides, if he'd have to have an actual conversation with one of them, he might've just screamed. He was quick, however, to change immediately once he'd finished showering because the only one who seemed keen on waking up around a suitable hour was Sirius Black.
Their third morning of classes, Remus had made the dire mistake of examining himself in the mirror shirtless, just to assess how badly he'd been marred. Sometimes he did this, silently looking himself over in disgust, wincing at all the ugly blemishes scattered across his peachy skin. Each one seemed to hold a distant memory in the back of his head, one that he'd shoved there for a reason.
There were metallic abrasions going all over his chest (the wolf seemed to like this area the most) and jagged nail marks running down his arm. However, the scar that had bothered him the most had been the rather large, irritated wound making itself right at home on his shoulder.
He ran his fingers over the delicate skin, careful to only trace his fingers around the scar. Every so often, his mind would take him back to that night in 1965, reminding him of how stupid he had been, how naïve a child really could be. It reminded him of nothing but fear and agony, despite his brain doing a decent job of selectively blurring the morbid details. Though, it wasn't as crafty with the intrusive thoughts that barged in on his most vulnerable moments – moments like these when he'd stripped down to nothing but the minimum. Moments when all Remus had wanted to do was curl up in a ball and weep.
The door to the boys' bathroom opened slowly, Sirius sauntering through with droopy lids and a loud yawn. He paid no mind to the rigid figure in front of the mirrors, disappearing in one of the shower stalls indolently. Quickly, Remus dressed himself, ignoring the throbbing sensation of his heart hammering in his chest and the screaming voice in the back of his head telling him how stupid he was, yet again, for making the same stupid mistakes that always got him in trouble. It was the same careless mistakes he'd made that got him into the mess he was currently. He had to be more careful.
He slipped down to breakfast that week with no interruptions.
His first breakfast had been, initially, disappointing. He hadn't expected anyone to stride over to befriend him, especially not his roommates after the dispute the night before, but he also hadn't expected everyone to skirt around him tensely, refusing to look his way but not minding the prospect of muttering to their neighbors about just how bizarre he looked.
Looking down at himself, he did conclude he looked rather odd. He was much taller than the other boys – one girl had already mistaken him for a second year – and he never smiled. In fact, the only time anyone had seen him smile so far was at the Sorting Ceremony. Along with never smiling, he also never spoke, at least not to anyone who'd been around him thus far. Even at their first dinner, Remus ate alone and spoke to no one, settling on the fact that the wood tables were much more interesting than anything they'd been conversing about. Remus Lupin kept to himself, and, so far, no one had minded this fact. Not even Sirius Black, who'd been too absorbed in his game of Wizarding Chess to notice his roommate eating silently at the end of the table.
Remus, carefully gathering some food off of the breakfast platters, was startled when someone slammed their books down in front of him. In fact, he had been given such a fright he'd dropped his silverware, earning the annoyed glares from several surrounding students including a now suspicious looking Sirius. Nervously looking up (perhaps someone had finally had enough of his odd behavior), he was pleasantly met with the beaming face of Julienne Jerome. She looked as happy as ever, clearly less apprehensive than when he'd first met her, with a broad smile and crinkled, coffee eyes. She huffed, several curls dangling in her face.
"Alright, me lover," she sang, picking up his silverware for him and finishing his plate for him. Remus choked on his spit, not used to this sudden accent Julienne had thrown his way. She ignored him, settling on making his plate for him with a chipper smile on her bronze face. "How did you sleep, Rem?"
He stared, watching her put enough food on his plate to fill the bellies of everyone in the Great Hall, gulped, "It'll take some getting used to, that's for sure."
"Right on," she scoffed, handing him back his fork and knife. He'd never seen so much food for one person in his life. There was a heaping pile of warm eggs, several slices of bacon, two whole pieces of buttered toast with marmalade to go along, a small dish of fried tomatoes, and three rather large fried sausages – all for him.
He wondered if she'd been planning to share with him. Remus would never be able to finish all that, not at all in thirty minutes at least. The boy was as scrawny as they came, but that was only because of the physical toll his lycanthropy had on him. According to his mother, he could eat like a horse, but the weight never seemed to stay on. "My roommates insisted on gossiping about James Potter last night. You'd think they were in love with him already."
Remus froze as he'd made a move to grab the salt and pepper shakers in front of his dish. He was instantly reminded of the altercation just hours before, the anger in his chest and the incessant jabbering of James as he tried to prove something to the other fellows around him. Trying to get a rise out of Remus, evoke some sort of exasperated response to prove just how loopy he was.
In that moment, as he sat across from Julienne, it wasn't exactly antipathy that danced in his mind, but it wasn't a welcoming emotion either. It wasn't rage or hatred or anything close to the likes of them. Remus wasn't sure he could ever hate someone, not even James for what he'd done – it was relatively trivial in the grand scheme of things. Rather, it was betrayal and hurt, emotions that were making themselves too comfortable in Remus's chest lately.
He'd been nice on the train to all three of them (save the jokes about Peter's poor shirt). He'd made them laugh, shared his chocolate, and accompanied them to the boats. But even as they rode across the lake together, he'd felt resigned. Wasn't it Remus who remained quiet the entire time? Wasn't it Remus who'd decided that it was better to say nothing at all, avoid them in fear that he'd ruin whatever semblance of friendship he'd managed to make so far?
It was.
So how upset could he actually be that the three boys had already grown much closer together than Remus could ever hope to be to a single person? Yet, what right did James have seeking some sort of argument? Actually, Remus thought in slight irritation, he'd done nothing at all to James. If any one of them had the right to be mad it was Peter, not James. Not James whatsoever. He had no right to be upset with Remus, and for what? Not giving him the attention he'd wanted? Not feeding into his cruel jokes and taunts? Not laughing when he'd almost burnt a Prefects robes?
"Yeah," was all Remus said, though this did not deter Julienne in the slightest.
"I heard he was a proper jerk to the Prefects," she sighed, making herself a plate idly while glancing every so often to where James had been sitting. Still, his attention had been focused on the game in front of him, only slipping when he needed a bite to eat. "Honestly, who tries to burn a Prefect's robes?"
"I don't think he was meaning to do it," Remus, though every bone in his body pleaded him not to, defended James's actions. Because, if he was being quite frank, he was almost sure that James and Sirius's intentions had not been to set Ivan on fire. They'd probably gotten their hands on the Diabolical Dare Devils and thought it might be funny to get a rise out of someone before bed. Innocent pranks, as they'd discussed on the train. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of these jokes throughout the year."
Julienne smirked, "Ere', it makes for good entertainment, though."
"If it isn't hurting someone, then of course," Remus chuckled. Then, as if suddenly slapped in the face and forced to swallow an entire vial of Pepper-Up Potion, he couldn't fight back the small smile on his lips.
Julienne was a Hufflepuff, and while this was rather disappointing there was something much better at play. Her table was, really, on the other side of the room. She'd clearly made friends since they'd last seen each other, he could gather as much from her personality now that she hadn't been petrified. And, regardless of all of the above, she'd come over to him. She'd left her House table, her possible friends, and decided that breakfast would best be spent with him. She'd made him a plate, made her own, and was attempting casual conversation even with everyone around them, excluding James and Sirius, looking at her as if she'd lost a few screws.
"Oh," she coughed, chewing her toast rapidly, "I'll be along! They're handing out schedules." Julienne threw her legs over the bench and raced over to her friends, not looking over her shoulder to see that Remus had been watching her with a tender twinkle in his eyes.
"Mr. Lupin," Naomi Ganders called, pacing over to where he'd been sitting. She sat down a roll of parchment beside his plate neatly. "This is your schedule. The professors understand if you run late the first few days."
"The castle is rather large," he interrupted absentmindedly, unfurling the parchment with a newfound curiosity.
Naomi sighed contently, "Yes, but it becomes home soon enough. If you have any questions, just find me or Ivan." She continued through the other students, ignoring the groans of agony as some of them looked over their classes for the year. However, Remus paid them no mind.
So, it was settled then. After the acceptance letter, the sorting, and the awful predicament he'd found himself in last night – in spite of his condition and every odd being stacked against him – he was going to be learning magic in less than twenty minutes. Even though his mother had doubted him, his father had (only sometimes) told him he'd only ever amount in the Muggle World, his wildest dream had come true. For the first time since the accident, Remus was proud to say that he was no longer just the wolf. He was now, officially, a wizard.
Julienne bounded over to him, just barely dodging a girl named Lily Evans as she, too, had been on her way to the area Remus had been sitting, and sat back down in her seat. Lily, looking slightly exasperated, turned away and sat back down with her friends.
"Sorry," she panted, taking a long gulp of her orange juice, "I got carried away. What've you got first?"
Remus had been too focused on his new title to even notice his schedule in his hands. He read through several times, memorizing room numbers and professor names.
"Looks like I've got Potions with Slughorn first period," he murmured.
"What," Julienne squealed, snatching his schedule excitedly to compare it to her own. Her eyes bounced from parchment to parchment wildly, her eyes widening in surprise and, what Remus assumed to be, happiness. "We've got some classes together, Rem!"
Giddiness washed over Remus for the second time since he'd stepped foot through the doors. Perhaps this year wasn't going to be terrible after all. It was quite negative to think that way, Remus was quite aware of this, but after the slight row with James and his condition getting in the way he was almost sure that he'd suffer more being here than actually enjoying himself. By the time breakfast was finished, however, the incident with James had been long forgotten to Remus. He was on his way out of the Hall with Julienne as she chatted animatedly about her family in Manchester, Remus felt a hand lay on his shoulder.
"Oi, Lupin," Sirius said casually. Remus halted stiffly, ignoring the nervous tug in his stomach as he and his new friend turned on their heels to face Sirius, James, and an anxious looking Peter. "Walk with us to Potions, yeah?"
The offer, twenty-four hours ago, would've been quite tempting. Yet, there was something in the way Sirius glanced Julienne up and down with mild dislike and the glare James had seemed unable to remove from his face that made Remus waver. That, and he was actually enjoying Julienne's story of her grandmother's dentures falling into a blender on Easter Holidays.
Though, he couldn't deny the uplift in his mood now that the people who he'd thought had hated him were actually making an effort to be in his company. That had to count for something, didn't it? Especially coming from Sirius, the same boy who'd somewhat defended him on the way to Hogwarts and in their dormitory when James had…
Well, it was in the past now. Maybe not Sirius's actions, as Remus would always remember those small gestures of kindness offered to him in their early years, but James's outburst was nothing to hold against him anymore, even though something hidden in Remus's heart ached to hurt James just as badly. He denied this part of his heart that pleasure, walking with Julienne in silence their first day to Potions.
"I'm surprised you declined them," she admitted carefully. "They are your friends, aren't they?"
Would Remus consider those boys his friends? Certainly not James, not because he held some petty grudge but because that same kindness might not be extended towards Remus. He definitely didn't hate him, however, and didn't mind his company when he wasn't talking. When James did speak around Remus, which was seldom their first weeks attending Hogwarts, it was about all the money he had to spend on pranking materials – mentioning how much they could invest at Zonko's – or how brilliant of a flyer he was, how excited he was to try out for Quidditch.
Remus had once thought of playing for one of the school's Quidditch teams, but, upon his first lesson on a broom, he quickly decided against it. Perhaps it was how long his legs were or just how sweaty his palms became when suddenly launching into the air with nothing beneath you.
For people such as James and Sirius, flying came naturally. The swooped and soared, ignoring their instructor every so often as they managed to play hot potato with Peter's shoe – the last one with it was going to have to sleep with Peter's sock on his pillow. Yet, James hadn't been lying when he said he was an excellent flyer. He had no trouble at all yielding the broom, mounting, kicking off; it might as well have been that he'd been on a broom since he could walk. If Remus had been listening to James's stories in the common room, he might have known that this fact was fairly true.
On the other hand, for people such as Sirius, it wasn't a practiced talent. This was raw, natural talent on a broom. According to the boy, he'd never so much as touched a broom in his life; judging by the look of all of his belongings, and just how fancy it all appeared, Remus doubted that Sirius had to do much of anything growing up.
"Why fly when you could just floo," Peter asked quizzically, sprawling out on the grass to soak in the sun. Remus had been standing by awkwardly, shuffling the tips of his shoes together as so to busy himself and avoid eavesdropping.
"Floos are dirty and every other wizard who uses them leaves their germs behind," Sirius scolded. "Mother and Father apparated with me if we ever needed to go anywhere." There was something in Sirius's voice that Remus noticed, something that no one else seemed to be paying attention to. It was gone as quick as it came, but Remus would swear on everything he owned that he heard a generous amount of disdain when speaking the words Mother and Father.
He scrunched up his face in confusion, biting his nail idly. It never occurred to young Remus that some children, in fact, didn't like their parents for some reason or another. He'd never been in a situation that would give him the reason to dislike Lyall or Hope. They'd been nothing but attentive and understanding his entire life, even after the accident. His father, of course, had his moments; but those were only when his father had taken too many sips of rum. His mother, poor Hope, had taken it the worst in the beginning. However, she persevered for Remus, and that was enough to her son to ensure he'd never stop fighting for her either.
The two people in the world, he thought to himself, who had the most reason to lose all hope kept pushing for me. I owe it to them to never lose hope in them either.
▬▬ιι
Remus hadn't noticed the Lunar calendar until he found himself slipping in Defense Against the Dark Arts class on a Thursday. It had been the most boring lesson so far; perhaps that's why Remus had waited so long to mention his lethargy. He blamed it on the class, maybe he hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. However, all of those inhibitions had been tossed right out of the window when he found himself unable to focus in on the world around him no matter how hard he'd tried.
"Is he alright," someone had asked. Whispers were beginning to fill the room, soon overpowering whatever lesson Professor Slade had been administering. Lily Evans was the first to notice Remus had been acting out of character. He hadn't spoken to Julienne at all during breakfast aside from a few weak nods and 'yeah's' given here and there. Then, in potions, he'd practically dropped an entire vial of Dittany in his cauldron. Everyone knew Remus was very careful when brewing his potions; he'd been the only one to create a perfect batch of Herbicide Potion so far. Julienne had even looked worried.
Then, in Herbology, he hadn't even tended to his plants – which was what brought Lily to the conclusion that something was definitely wrong. While she'd wanted to mention something to someone, she had little evidence that something was actually wrong aside from her gut. She was positive Professor McGonagall with just go with some eleven-year-old's gut feeling. But it had never led Lily astray thus far. Therefore, she'd decide to wait for one more period until she mentioned something to an adult. If Remus was ill, he needed to see the school's nurse immediately.
By the time they'd made it to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Lily was anxious. The dark splotches under his eyes were only getting worse by the minute and it would've seemed as though Remus was in a whole other dimension. He gave no response whatsoever to anything anyone said, not even Professor Slade who'd asked him several questions during the lesson seeing as Remus always answered questions.
Sirius, who'd noticed all of this as well, turned in his seat towards James and whispered, "I think something is wrong with Remus." His partner, chewing on a sugar quill, looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Your point," he muttered, looking towards the front of the room with disinterest written plainly on his face. Sirius deadpanned.
"We should help him."
"He's not our problem," James shrugged, paying no mind to Sirius's arctic glare. In fact, it was as if Sirius was hardly there at all any time Remus was mentioned. It was no secret that Potter wasn't a fan of Lupin. He displayed his feelings quite blatantly at the very mention of his name; he never acknowledged Remus's presence, nor did he grant him any sort of pleasantry when forced to interact with him. So far, the only thing that reminded James of Remus's existence was the fact he shared a room with him. If it hadn't been that way, it would've been much easier to purge the image of him out of his brain.
"I would help you," Sirius shot back hotly, glancing over his shoulder at Remus. The boy had been leaning on his propped up arm, internally screaming at himself to pay. Attention. Sirius had noticed that Remus's complexion was turning a murky shade of white – an unnatural white. A deathly shade of peach that made him look God awful. It wasn't only that; Remus hardly ate the days leading up to that lesson. Julienne had tried every so often, but the bint could hardly get through to him any better than a ghost. It was as if she wasn't even there some days.
"Yeah, I would help you too," James retorted coldly. "But you're my friend. Lupin isn't my—"
"Quiet," Professor Slade shouted. The murmuring ceased instantly, everyone facing the front of the room politely.
Professor Slade was a tall woman with dark, umber skin and striking hazel eyes. When Sirius had first seen her, he wondered if she'd been any taller than Hagrid; she very well could have been! But, unlike Hagrid, she was very slim and graceful, and she always managed to glide across the floor, similar to floating on air. Her curly hair, as Sirius had only ever seen it down once, had almost always been wrapped up in a pretty, patterned scarf of some sort. And, now that he thought about it, she never came into class with a mismatched outfit.
Their first day in class, she had introduced herself as an Auror off-duty, which, apparently meant, her time at Hogwarts was limited. James had seriously doubted her profession; she was too girly he said. According to Potter, no Auror would have manicured nails and satin scarves weaving around in their hair as some sort of fashion statement.
But this wasn't the time to think of such things!
Just as she'd opened her mouth to speak, there was a dull thud that echoed through the room. Every student flinched, not daring to look at the source. Professor Slade had, however, and didn't hide her initial shock. Sirius bravely glanced to his right and found that Remus's head had been pressed against the top of his desk, probably painfully. Thankfully (he'd let out a sigh of relief he hadn't even realized he'd been holding), there was no blood and Remus appeared to be breathing judging by the snorting noise coming out of his mouth.
"I'll take him to Madame Pomphrey," Lily Evans volunteered boldly, standing from her seat and making her way back to Remus's desk. Something inside Sirius flared, like an agitated flame, and it took everything inside of him to control it as he watched Lily, with some strenuous effort, pull Remus into a standing position against her body. Remus's head was bobbing back and forth, his mouth moving gently as he muttered, what Sirius assumed to be, feeble protests. And the more and more Lily seemed to hold Remus roughly, grabbing him tightly here and there to get a better angle, that flame was ignited again and again and again until it blazed brightly.
"Oh, Christ," he groaned, pushing Lily aside and easily wrapping Remus's arm around his shoulder and holding him up with all his weight. Despite being so thin, he had weighed a bit more than expected, and Sirius stumbled – if only for a moment. "I'm taking him."
