"It's punk. You know, rebellion and anarchy and stuff." Remus let James peer at his badges on the jacket he was wearing, explaining to him and Sirius who Led Zeppelin was. It was the end of the school day, which had posed little difference to last year, except for slightly more advanced topics and practices. It wasn't until third year that they'd have more curriculum options, like Astronomy and Care of Magical Creatures. Everyone was already looking forward to third year, despite having only just entered second, but there was a subtle air of impatience in every lesson as students desperately worked towards a curriculum they deemed more interesting and more useful. Turning birds into water goblets was neither interesting nor useful in anyone's opinion.

After they'd returned to their dorm room and Remus was allowed to take off his uniform, he quickly changed into his "punk" get-up, with a part of him very much hoping that his friends would ask about his ripped jeans and the band logos he was displaying. Luckily for his ego, they did, and he held his head up high as he explained to them about this new movement that was sweeping the nation. Although, by his attitude, he almost gave off the impression that he was solely responsible for punk even existing in the first place, as if it was him that discovered the movement. In the eyes of his pureblood friends, he essentially did. This did nothing to make his sense of superiority any less subtle.

But his friends didn't notice that. They wanted to know more, especially Sirius. James liked the look of the outfit and wanted to try on the badges, but Sirius was more interested in what punk actually meant, which Remus tried to describe as best he could, relying mostly on his aunt's own words.

"It's embracing being outcasts to society. Saying fuck the Ministry and stuff."

"What's wrong with the Ministry?" asked Sirius. "They run the whole wizarding world in Britain, they can't be bad." Remus couldn't go into the details of why the Ministry was bad because he'd be there all day, and besides, he didn't know how to explain exactly why they were bad because he didn't have the words yet. There were technical terms that he didn't understand. All he knew about was their anti-werewolf laws, the stuff that affected him, but he didn't know the ins and outs. Certainly not in a way that he could explain to someone whose whole family probably worked in the Ministry in the first place.

"They're bad because they're society, and society is oppressive." Though Remus didn't have all the words, he still had enough words, and they made him feel very clever being able to use them, as if he was an adult who knew things his classmates didn't. And Sirius was drinking up everything.

"Why is it oppressive?" he continued to ask, the tone of his questions straying away from confusion to plain curiosity, as if he viewed Remus as an intriguing encyclopaedia, urging him on. Remus put his hands on Sirius's shoulders.

"Because society is like your family. Society is..." he thought exactly what society was, and why it related to Sirius's family. He knew there was a connection, but he was still new on this whole society thing. He needed to ask aunt Selene more questions. "Society is what stops you from being yourself. It's disapproving about everything and you have to fit in, but fitting in is crap, which is why punks hate society, and they rebel against it by wearing different clothes and listening to music that also hates society." He didn't know if his explanation was correct, but he knew that society was the key word on why he had to hide that he was a werewolf. Why he had to hide that he was trans, why he had to struggle to be called the right name and be seen as a boy. Why people wouldn't like him if they knew who he really was. He tried to get as much of this through to Sirius as he could without actually giving anything away.

"I'll show you." Remus thought now was as good a time as any to let Sirius listen to Atom Heart Mother Suite, because even though it wasn't really the type of music that Remus thought sounded punk (the bands Selene had showed him had lots of guitar and lyrics that were hard to make out over all the yelling, while his Pink Floyd album wasn't like those bands at all; listening to it felt almost like you were floating), he thought it would still explain to Sirius what he was talking about. And what better time to do it than at midnight when everyone else was asleep, and Remus and Sirius could sneak down to use the communal record player? Sneaking out of bed when you weren't allowed to was definitely punk. It was against the rules, and rules— as it stood— were society. Remus told this to Sirius as well.

"People will hear us," Sirius warned, and while Remus didn't like to admit that he had a point, he also didn't want the record to be interrupted by some older kid coming downstairs and telling them to shut up.

"You don't happen to know how to put a silencing charm around us, do you?"

"I think it's Silencio, but I don't know how to do it around us." Remus had to think for a second, but it didn't take long for his eyes to light up.

"Then we'll just take the record player somewhere else." Sneaking around the castle at night was even more punk, so when Sirius asked if it was worth all the hassle, Remus didn't even listen before picking the record player up in his arms, stumbling a little under the load, and shifting the weight to the side so he could grab Sirius's arm with his one free hand.

Remus decided against going back for James's invisibility cloak, for a number of reasons, mainly because he couldn't be bothered. But also, he felt that if he took James's invisibility cloak, it would only be fair to take James along as well, and a small part of him wanted this to just be him and Sirius; a part of him that had no idea why. This part managed to win, however, and so he and Sirius tiptoed through the dark halls of the castle, straining their ears for any noises or any signs of Mrs. Norris.

As luck would have it, they managed to avoid discovery, helped mostly by Remus's knowledge of all the secret passages.

"How did you even learn all these routes?" Sirius whispered from beside him as they climbed the steep stairs to the astrology tower. "You must sneak out all the time."

"Not really, I just... have a good memory."

"James doesn't, he'd kill for this knowledge. He's always talking about sneaking out to have fun and get snacks from the kitchens, but the only routes he knows are too open."

"I'll write all the passages down for him," replied Remus, losing focus on the conversation as they reached the top of the tower. The room was empty, lit up only by the thin line of moonlight illuminating the stone ground. It was quiet, still. Perfect.

Remus set down the record player, releasing his grip on Sirius's sleeve which he hadn't noticed he'd been holding onto this entire time.

"Lie down," Remus instructed as he slipped the Pink Floyd record out of its cover. Sirius did as was told, lying close to the record player. Remus held the needle down, praying that it would work. The record crackled a little as the needle rested in place, and Remus let out an internal sigh of relief as the opening notes began to filter out. He shifted himself next to Sirius and lay down as well. Neither of the boys spoke as they listened to the music, Remus stealing glances at his friend every so often. All muggle music was a new experience to Sirius, so no matter what he thought of the record, Remus didn't want to miss seeing his reaction.

Sirius's expression remained rather unreadable, but Remus noticed his eyes were transfixed in place, and whether they were sparkling from the moonlight or from what he was hearing, Remus didn't know. But he struggled to look away.

As time went on, as the two listened to the choir singing of the first song, Remus couldn't help but be hyper-aware of not only himself, and of Sirius, but of everything around him, in a way that made time appear to freeze. He could so easily pretend that this moment would last for eternity, that he'd always be lying beside Sirius listening to Pink Floyd in the astronomy tower. Not in so much a sentimental way, he didn't consider himself to be much of a sentimental person. It felt factual, like the two really had entered a time warp where only they existed, and that only they had ever heard this album.

Remus looked over at Sirius again to see that his expression was still the same, still transfixed. Everything about the situation made Remus want to smile, for reasons he couldn't put his finger on. He felt like the coolest person alive. An easy conclusion to come to once the electric guitars kicked in. He felt like an adult, not in the way that he usually did, with all the responsibilities he had weighing down on his back. All of that just melted away with the music. In that moment he felt like an adult because he felt like he knew everything, and he felt freer than he'd ever felt before.

In that moment, he wasn't a werewolf. He wasn't trans. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his identity, but they were labels put on him by society, and this was punk. There was no society. In that moment he was Remus. And he really hoped, with all his heart, that Sirius felt the same way.

Alan's Psychedelic Breakfast made Sirius laugh a little, softly but still mesmerised. He had never heard a song where someone was just... talking. And when the music did kick in, it was so happy sounding; light piano keys and electric guitar. When Remus listened to it, he imagined lying in a field in the early afternoon. It felt hopeful, like things would always get better eventually. Then the music would stop, and more breakfast sounds filled the room, an odd juxtaposition to the dark astronomy tower at one in the morning, but the music would kick in again, a little more melancholy, but it all still had that morning feel to it. So listening to it at this time of night felt almost surreal. The whole situation felt surreal, and Remus felt like he was barely there. Not in a bad way, he noticed. He was floating again, like he was on his aunt's yellowing rug, the sounds of breakfast from the album intermingling with the voices from downstairs in the pub.

This was a different sort of floating, though, because in aunt Selene's flat Remus wasn't so aware of his surroundings and his feelings. He just sort of drifted into the music and contemplated life, but now his focus couldn't help but constantly shift over to the boy next to him.

It seemed to be a side effect of the music, that made everything around him so irresistible, but Remus felt like reaching out to at least touch the sides of Sirius's fingers. Brush against them to see what it felt like. He thought listening to the music would be significantly improved if he was holding someone's hand, although considering that they were on the last song, it may have been a little late.

Maybe another time. Maybe they could come up here again and lay down next to each other, and Remus would be able to find out what listening to Pink Floyd felt like when your hand was in someone else's. His new found punk attitude was making him attach a significance to everything, a pretentious significance. Music was music, and it couldn't change depending on whether you were holding onto someone or not. But at that moment, Remus's pre-teen mind was convinced that something like holding hands while listening to a guy named Alan have breakfast in a morning field would be life-changing.

"That was very different to classical music," murmured Sirius, breaking the subsequent silence that the crackling needle brought to the room. Remus looked over at him, and finally, he looked right back. Remus could see that his eyes were still sparkling, despite being hidden from the moonlight now.

"Did you like it?" Remus asked, failing to hide the slight anxiousness in his voice. It was his main concern after all. Sirius propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes wide for emphasis as he nodded his head.

"I loved it! I've never heard anything like that before. It made me feel... I don't know how it made me feel but music's never made me feel things before." Remus sat up himself. He couldn't ask for a better response, and he shared the sentiment, although this album wasn't the first time music had made him feel more than just enjoyment at what he was listening to. He felt a similar way to when he listened to his Sgt Pepper album at home.

"It was definitely worth the trip around the castle," continued Sirius, and Remus smiled in agreement.

"It was, as long as no one catches us walking back."

"Do we have to walk back?" asked Sirius, to which Remus tilted his head in confusion.

"Of course we do, we can't stay here."

"Why not?" Sirius was quieter now, as if he was admitting something he thought sounded embarrassing. "It's practically morning already, and I quite like it up here." It was a weak argument; it would be a few hours yet before the horizon even started to glow orange, and if they didn't wake up in their dorm tomorrow, everyone would see that they were missing.

But Remus's logical and responsible brain was becoming more and more suppressed by his new rebellious energy and only one sentence came to his mind to convince himself to stay: "a punk would stay here." Lydia would stay here. Selene would stay here. Remus wanted to stay here too.

"Okay." Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise as if he hadn't been expecting Remus to agree with him so quickly.

"Really?" Remus nodded.

"Yeah." As long as we wake up before everyone else, said the responsible side of him who refused to stay fully silent. Nevertheless, he lay back onto the floor with little concern, and listened to Sirius shuffle behind him to reach the needle of the record player. He rewound the album, and the music started again.

Remus was falling asleep by the time the record was half way through. The stone floor wasn't exactly comfortable, but at nearly two in the morning he didn't even notice. He couldn't focus on anything like he had previously and he let his eyes close, sleep washing over him in a sudden rush so that he could feel himself slipping out of consciousness before he even had a chance to register the fact. He was already in the half-asleep phase that always caused the weirdest dreams to leak into reality and make him feel even more tired than before, when the fading part of his conscious brain noticed that Sirius was talking.

"... he didn't listen to a word I said," Sirius was murmuring, although loud enough to make it clear to Remus that he was talking to him, so Remus felt a bit guilty when he had to ask "who?"

"My brother," confirmed Sirius, seemingly unaware that Remus also hadn't heard a word he'd said. "On the train, I was trying to speak to him. He wouldn't listen." Remus didn't know if this was a conversation, or whether Sirius just wanted to voice his worries, but since Remus had no idea what those worries were, given the context, he couldn't help but keep prompting him.

"What did you say to him?"

"I tried to convince him to stay with me, even if he wasn't in Gryffindor. I tried to tell him about our family, because I hadn't been able to at home, not without being discovered, but he wouldn't hear it. Said if I kept talking like that I'd be a traitor to our name." So that's what Sirius had been doing when he inexplicably left them on the train to sit with his brother, and Remus felt another twang of guilt at remembering how he'd assumed the worst of his friend. He had thought that Sirius was staying close to his family again after spending the holidays with them, but looking back, Remus hadn't given him any credit. He'd lived with his family for eleven years before coming to Hogwarts; if he had managed to change his mind on his original views after that, then two months wouldn't have had much affect. Remus wasn't exactly an expert on psychology, though, so he couldn't be fully blamed for having his concerns. He needed to be concerned, wary, mistrusting. For him, it was a natural survival instinct, no matter who was on the receiving end.

That being said, Sirius had also confirmed that Regulus was firmly not on their side, so Remus certainly hadn't been wrong to be wary of him.

"So what are going to do about him?" Remus asked.

"What do you mean?" Sirius— who had had his head in the same position this whole time, staring once again at the ceiling— turned to face him.

"Are you going to keep trying to talk to him?" Remus thought Sirius was better off leaving well alone, but a part of him also hoped that Sirius could possibly manage to get through to his brother, and that would rid Hogwarts of another threat to Remus. He had to be selfish in this instance; Sirius was his best friend, but his relationship with his brother wasn't Remus's problem unless it was detrimental to himself.

"Of course I am," replied Sirius, as if he couldn't even imagine the thought of not doing so. "I have to try and get through to him. He's my brother." Remus accepted the answer, keeping his own thoughts to himself. As much as he wanted to help, he didn't want to put himself into the crossfire, so all he could do was sit back and let Sirius do what he needed to do.

The following day, Remus had to see Madam Pomfrey. A visit he'd actually been looking forward to, so he didn't have to worry about waking up late and getting caught sneaking back to the dorm; he was already up with the sun.

Sirius must have fallen asleep some time during the early hours, but Remus didn't know when since he had already been fast asleep himself. He shook Sirius awake as the morning light filtered into the tower, and the two had to rush back to the Gryffindor common room to deposit the heavy record player before anyone else woke up. They didn't have a chance to speak on the way back, or even in the astronomy tower. All focus was placed on remaining undetected, especially after a brief scare where they had to duck into an empty classroom to avoid a run in with a prowling Mrs. Norris. When they finally did arrive safely back to the common room, they had a moment together where Sirius thanked Remus for the previous night.

"I think I understand punk a bit better now," he said with a smile, and his fingers brushed against Remus's before he excused himself to go back up to bed, in an attempt to grab the last hour of sleep before they had to get up for breakfast. Remus looked at his own fingers for a moment, contemplating something that wasn't even in his head. Just empty thoughts that didn't register the feel of Sirius's skin, before he eventually turned to the stairs of the boys' dormitory and settled himself back into bed, slipping into only brief bouts of sleep.

Before breakfast, Remus withdrew from the dormitory again to go down to the hospital wing, while everyone else, including Sirius, had barely woken up yet. He was excited this time, although he tried to suppress it with waves of anxiety so as not to get his hopes up. Remus's mother had talked to Madam Pomfrey, but she hadn't told him what about, and he wanted to know if he'd be allowed a higher dose of Morfosis to— if nothing else— finally stop his period.

When he arrived, Madam Pomfrey was already bustling around, smoothing the bedsheets on the empty beds. It was only the first day back, so no one had yet to befall any significant injuries. When she spotted him, she smiled and waved him over, both of them retreating into her office.

The first thing she did was place a vial of Morfosis on her desk, the sight of the clear, watery liquid familiar to him now. Remus observed it, and noticed that the vial was a little fuller than usual. He looked up at her with bated breath, but she continued on as factual as ever.

"Your mother and I decided to allow you to take an extra few milligrams of Morfosis, which would bring the dose up to ten millilitres from the original five," explained Madam Pomfrey, with a meaningful smile on her face. "It's not a high dose yet, but it should at least decrease the severity of your period, if not stop it entirely." Remus was ecstatic by this news, as was expected, but he was surprised his mother had permitted him to take a higher dose before he was thirteen, like she no doubt would have preferred. Maybe it was another peace present offered to him over her split with Lyall, but Remus couldn't care less about the motive behind it. The thought of his period stopping was all that mattered. Not having to worry about it felt like another step forward for him, and for what seemed like the first time in a long time, he left the hospital wing feeling genuinely content.