Chapter Five
The early sun shone red through the tower window, spilling onto the bed. Remus woke up, settled deep into his pillows. Warmth from the center hearth in the room radiated over the four poster beds. Sitting up lightly, Remus looked around. His first year fellows still lay peacefully asleep, snoring heavily. James had fallen asleep hanging halfway off his bed, his glasses on the ground. Smiling at the sight, Remus slipped out of bed and rifled through his trunk, bringing out the midnight blue journal. He opened to the bookmarked page, his fingers familiarly lighting on the carefully crossed off days. Today, September 2nd, was the first day of classes and Remus had carefully etched a neat drawing of a quill and ink bottle beside it. With a flourish and a leap in his stomach, he drew his wand and pointed it at the page, meaning to magically cross off today's square. Hesitating, though, he stowed it again, deciding to save his first spell at school to do something more worthwhile.
This weekend, on the fifth, he would turn. In the upper righthand corner of every calendar square was a small representation of the moon cycles. The small, white orb in on the page loomed large in Remus's chest. He touched it and shuddered. He would wake alone in the shack just outside of Hogsmeade. And from there, he would be surrounded by more people than he ever had been, and yet be alone in his secret, more exclusively than ever.
Across the room, Peter woke up with a start and rubbed his bright, eager eyes with a curious look at Remus, who closed the journal and put it away in his things. Quickly, Remus began to busy himself with readying for the day. The other boys woke eventually, Sirius last of all, and also dawned the robes, proudly sporting their Gryffindor House colors. James sat up and stared at the far wall, his hair a tousled mess and his glasses on his bedside table. Remus got the idea that he did not like to wake up early.
"Ah come on, Potter," Sirius coaxed, grabbing Jame's glasses and cleaning them off on his shirt before handing them to him. "We get to use magic today!"
"We get to cast spells," Peter echoed from across the room, righting his shoes which had put on the wrong feet in his excitement. "Real spells!"
"Who cares about a bunch of rotten charms," James complained, falling back into his pillows and clamping one over top of his head. After a moment, he lifted it, "Haven't you lot watched your mum and dad do all that simple boring stuff enough? It'll be no different for us."
"I don't expect that's all we'll be doing today," Remus chimed in, dressed fully now and sitting patiently on his bed, bookbag beside him. "According to the schedule, we'll have Transfiguration right after Charms. After that we have Potions… then Quidditch… then-"
But Remus did not get to finish his sentence. All at once, James leapt to his feet on the bed, his face split into an enormous smile under crooked glasses, "Why didn't you say that from the start? Quidditch!"
"Not this again," complained Sirius, who was fixing his shoulder length hair in an emerald-encrusted hand mirror. "I think everyone on the Hogwarts express knows you want to be Quittage Captain."
"Not just Captain," James explained, thrusting his arm into the sleeve of his robe. "I want to be the only important position on the team." He took hold of his glasses and held them aloft as if he had just snatched them from the air. "I will play Seeker."
Remus laughed, but nodded, "Have you rode a broom before?"
"Not a real one," James complained. "Mum wouldn't let me. But it did however! I took it off the stairs once. She wasn't pleased, but it was such a thrill." His hazel eyes were alight as he replaced his glasses.
"Alright Mr. Quidditch Seeker Captain," Sirius complained, snagging the back of Jame's robes and toting him toward the door. "We'll miss breakfast if you keep this up."
After a more humble meal than the feast the night before, yet still very filling and delicious, the Gryffindor first years filed into their Charms classroom. Professor Flitwick stood on a stool at the front of the class, explaining how he would teach them to levitate different objects.
Remus twittled with his wand uncomfortably. After a moment of deliberation, he raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. After being excuse, he quickly rounded the hallway into an alcove. He didn't want to be gone from class for long, although he was almost sure he understood the spell from previous study (at least in theory.) What was more important, though, was his first spell. What conjuration would he and his wand first bond over? What was his goal as a wizard? What did he wish to bring to the world? Remus sat down on the benched tucked in the dark corner. The halls were mostly empty and a suit of armor obstructed his view. He scrunched his eyebrows and thought. If he could do anything, it would be to rid the world of fear. He could hardly do that with one first-level spell, however. Closing his eyes, Remus envisioned the beginnings of his transformation. The terrible ache always started near his knees and in his chest, spreading outward until it consumed him. Maybe the worst thing about it was the waiting. The standing in the black of the forest, starting up at the pale, condemning moon as it rose to its apex. In those moments, more anything, he wished for the day.
Eyes flashing open, Remus looked down at his wand, feeling it warm in his hand. In darkness, he craved light. And so did so many others- those who were like him, and those who were not. Heart thrumming in his chest, Remus stood up and steeled himself. He would remember why he chose this spell to be his first. He would defy the monster that lived somewhere in his bloodstream and bring light instead of darkness.
In a clear, firm voice, Remus commanded his wand, "Lumos."
Light radiated from the wand, spilling into the dark of the alcove and illuminating the grin on Remus's face. Running gleefully back to class, Remus commanded feathers to levitate and transfigured buttons into beetles, all while washed aglow in the warmth of the secret spell and the promise he had made himself.