Mild Organisational Compulsions

Usually, trains were relaxing.

Or at least, they were for Remus.

Usually, he liked watching the scenery pass the window in a whiz of colour - be it the angular cityscape greys, or the sprawling lazy countryside greens, or the dark shadowed forest browns splattered with wild bright flowers in vivid reds and blues and purples. Or, indeed, anything in between.

Usually, he enjoyed watching the crowds of people - interesting people, all unique and, at the same time, all so similar. He was always fascinated by the simple social interactions he found so complicated - a gentle touch here, a friendly punch there. All the little intricacies of intimacy that he could never hope to understand.

Usually, he found the movements of the train, and the noises it made, soothing. The gentle rocking motions of the carriage swaying to keep in line with the others, and the rhythmic clicking sound the wheels made as they passed the joints in the track. On more than one occasion, the combination of these calming factors had been enough to send him off to sleep.

Not today thought.

Today, Remus wasn't watching the flitting scenes outside the window. Today, he was trying to ignore the other passengers. Today, the jiggling movements were making him feel ill, and the constant clinking was giving him a headache.

Of course, today happened to be only two days after the full moon.

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes, and when he looked up again an old woman sat adjacent was smiling kindly at him.

' Are you alright, dear? You look a trifle pale.'

He tried to smile back at her, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd succeeded, ' Just a little travel sickness. I'll be fine when we've stopped.'

She smiled again, accepting the answer and turning away. In truth, the aching in his joints and the tugging cramps in his muscles wouldn't subside for several days, and he felt a bit guilty for lying. It wasn't a complete lie, of course. The continuous rattling of the carriage was certainly not helping him to recover.

Remus rested his head back against his chair. He was exhausted, but had given up on the idea of sleep several hours ago. It was more than just his discomfort keeping him awake, his mind too distracted to shut down for long enough to get any rest. He felt for the papers he had stuffed in his pocket, and fished them out.

He glanced at the letters now piled in his lap. He could, if he wanted to, recite them by heart by now, but he kept re-reading them anyway. They were stacked - in true Moony style a voice that sounded distinctly like a certain flea-ridden animagus reminded him - in the order they had arrived. This could have been the result of a mild organisational compulsion, or because it allowed Remus to stare down at the elegantly formed, if a little rushed, curving handwriting of Sirius Black.

Moony,

I heard James scratching away with his quill, so I am writing to tell you to ignore most of his letter. All pointless drivel, I'm sure.

In answer to the questions you no doubt have; Yes, I did. Yes, I am. And no, not really, I'll live.

You have other things to worry about, I'm fine.

Pads.

This, of course, had made very little sense when it had arrived spontaneously the Monday after the July Moon, while Remus' brain was still bleary from exertion. That is, until twenty or so minutes later another owl landed, bearing a significantly longer letter.

Remus,

I hope this finds you recovering well from your usual bout of furriness, err, illness. Sorry we couldn't be there to help you get through it, and hopefully it wasn't too bad without our calming influence.

Remus grimaced every time he read that sentence, his free hand jumping to the newly numbed strip of flesh across the bridge of his nose.

Hah hah, I know how funny that sounds. Us. Calming. Hah, hah and hah again!

I have some news to cheer you up though! Sirius is living with me! Well, he doesn't know it yet. But mum is adamant that we couldn't possibly put him out on the street - I know, I don't get it either. And stop pulling that face. You know the one, with the eyebrows and the half-frown and looking all parent-y. She knows what she's in for. And before you ask, Yes, she is most certainly a bit loopy.

Anyway, I digress.

Back to the important stuff. Now, I don't want you to worry or anything, but he was in pretty bad shape when he landed. And by 'landed' I mean 'crashed into our garden, just missing the pond, and nearly giving the cat a heart-attack'.

He's okay! Don't panic! Would I be joking if he was seriously hurt? Okay, yes, probably, but he wasn't so it doesn't matter. Mum fixed him up pretty well, lucky she's had me as a son for sixteen years and is well practiced in the application of dittany and the correct dosages of Skele-Gro.

I've tried to get him to talk about it, but he won't. I suppose I can't blame him, really. But, maybe you could try when you see him. You'll have to come stay with us for a bit, I'll sort it out with mum and dad.

I suppose the important thing is that he got out, right? He doesn't ever have to see them again. That's good, right? That's what matters. Remember that, okay?

Anyway, I can hear him banging about in my room and I really don't need anything else breaking. I'll write you soon, try not to worry and take care of yourself.

James.

While not entirely sensical, this at least explained a few things, and Remus had gone back to look at Sirius' letter now that he had rudimentary understanding of the situation. He almost laughed at how well Padfoot could predict his thoughts, as he rattled through the predefined answers to his questions. He really ran away? Yes, I did. Is he alright? Yes, I am. Does he want to talk about it? No, not really, I'll live.

Remus had no further contact for another three weeks. He had tried to take James' advice, and not worry. Tried to convince himself they had just gotten carried away with driving Mrs Potter mad, and causing all the trouble they could fathom without Peter to include or Remus reminding them of his prefect status.

But his mind kept picking out segments from the letter, and forming the worst possible scenarios in his head. Dittany and Skele-Gro? How bad had he been? He had crashed his broom, which was unheard of. Mum fixed him up pretty well? What did that even mean! Either she fixed it or she didn't.

Some things were unavoidable, he supposed. And one of those things was the fact that Remus John Lupin was a worrier. There was nothing to be done about it.

As such, the relief was palpable when the same tawny owl that had delivered James letter appeared with another attached firmly to it's leg. This one was written in Sirius' best schooled-since-I-could-hold-a-pen script, large swirled letters entwined into words.

To the most esteemed Mister Moony,

Probably in a great deal of discomfort,

Curled up with a book,

Somewhere obscure.

Messrs Padfoot and Prongs hereby cordially invite you to vacation with them at Potter Manor for the remainder of the holidays.

The good sirs also feel it prudent to relay to you the immediate and pointed ignorance of any response shying from an affirmative.

Avidly awaiting your confirmation,

Severely dampening the spirits of Mrs Arianne Potter,

Newbury, West Berkshire,

Your equally esteemed fellows,

Padfoot and Prongs.

This particular installment made Remus chuckle. He wondered how long it had taken them to get the wording just right without his help.

It had taken Remus the remaining days before the august Moon to compose a battle plan. He decided he would tackle his father the day following his transformation, and play for the sympathy vote. And that's exactly what he had done.

He had woken up to his father dressing his wounds, and hadn't hesitated.

' I want to visit my friends.'

He had spoken so quickly, so as not to lose his nerve, that he had sounded unforgivably rude, and so had corrected himself before waiting for an answer from his shocked parent.

' I mean,' he continued, more sheepishly. ' If you don't mind, that is. And as I've been invited, it seems rude not to go. And they have asked me every year since I started school. And I always give them excuses and they're never believable, and it is the normal thing to do, isn't it?'

He had stopped for a breath, finally meeting his fathers eyes and was very surprised to find a smile there. He blinked in shock.

' Remus,' his dad said, in his ever-calm voice. ' If you want to go see your friends, you can.'

' I, but… Really?'

' Really,' he confirmed, giving his son a sad little smile. ' I'm sorry you haven't been able to before now. I really am very sorry.'

Remus registered the strange tone in his dads voice. Guilt. Not just a little bit, for keeping his son from his friends, but heavy undeniable guilt - the kind that eats away at your insides. It was a little disconcerting, and Remus chose to ignore it, smiling instead.

' Uh… Would I… Well, when?'

' I don't know about that. When you feel up to it.'

In the end, Remus had managed to convince his father to let him come today, two days after the moon. John had given in, probably against his better judgement, but Remus had pushed and pushed.

He had obviously not told his dad that his friends knew perfectly well of his condition, or that they were in fact illegal, underage animagi just to help him through the transformations. He felt a little guilty for using the Am I normal? card, but it had worked, and he was here.

And actually, he registered, the train was slowing. He really was there. And now he was beginning to feel a little nervous. He shoved the pile of papers back into his pocket and stood up as the train stopped.

He was nervous about lots of things, he noted as he allowed the old lady adjacent to get off before him. He was worried about seeing Sirius again, certainly, and for a whole host of reasons that really didn't need reading in to. But more immediately, he was frightened of their reaction to his new scars. He as only just getting used to them himself, and they were over a month old now.

He shuffled off the train, glancing around the platform. He didn't see anybody he knew, or even recognised, and he panicked a bit. What if nobody came for him? What if they forgot he was coming altogether?

He pressed himself against a wall in a quiet spot, fiddling nervously with his sleeves and looking up and down for anything familiar. He felt very uncomfortable standing stationary amongst all the movement of the crowd, and resolves to move.

' He's over there! All right, Moony!'

Okay, back to Moony!

These chapters are a lot easier to write, because I really am that awkward, over-thinking socially inept person. It makes life interesting. Also, randomly, I loved writing the letters. I think personality comes out so much more in the way we write.

A big Thank you to Everyone who reviewed, I needed it! Thank you, thank you! Especially so to Cat, AtraThestral and vulcangirl1983, my most frequent sources of feedback.

Also, Syranda, in answer to your question, No. There won't be a direct comparison to Remus' summer, mainly because I felt that would be dragging it out a bit. There will be a few chapters spent at the Potters, and there is still the summer between sixth and seventh year to come, which will be more focused on Remus' family, but not for a while yet.

Thank you for reading, reviews make me smile! Danke shern!

PS. For some stupid reason, the Fanfiction editor isn't saving any of my changes, so the letters won't allign properly and underlining isn't sticking. Not massivly important to the story, just really annoying for the author. That is all.