Chapter 3
Clouds of steam billowed from the train, cherry red in the morning sun as it rolled into the station. Yawning, Remus stretched his arms up above his head, rolling his shoulders to feel the cricks in his neck disappear, rolling off his body with ease. Lyall sat beside him, and though Remus found the imagined sight of him sitting with his father as his first impression on everyone at Hogwarts to be embarrassing, some part of him needed someone beside him. No words were shared between father and son. The occasional grunt, accidental eye contact that would cause both to quickly whip their heads back around to stare a little too intently at the train tracks.
The train was painted a rich, shiny red with a black nose, where the school name was pressed into the metal in golden letters. Trailing behind the front of the train and emerging from the smoke, carriages of a similar glossy colour rolled towards the station. Remus stood, looking at his watch and then to Lyall, confused. Surely the train couldn’t be coming yet - there wasn’t a single other person to be found on the platform.
“Where is everyone?” Remus asked, craning his neck to peer inside the carriages, but every shutter seemed to be closed, every window clamped tightly shut. Lyall lifted a hand to his hair, scratching it nervously.
“They should be on the train already, Remus. Maybe they get on at another stop?” He guessed.
“You told me there’s only one place the Hogwarts Express stops at,” Remus pointed out, turning and staring at Lyall pointedly. The name sounded strange in his head, and tasted even weirder on his tongue.
“Maybe I… was wrong? I could’ve been. Or maybe-”
“Please, don’t try to lie to me again.”
“Well, I didn’t want to stress you out,” Lyall began. Remus sighed, frustrated, turning away to grab his trunk and pull it towards an open door in the last carriage. “I think most of the kids went back from Christmas holidays last week? They said some were coming late, but I think they underestimated… how… many…” Lyall trailed off, knowing the battle was far from being won, and the train was already blaring its horn angrily, the conductor hanging his arm out the window in obvious impatience. Remus pushed his trunk up the stairs, turning back to face Lyall.
“Tell me, next time,” he spat, the words bitter on his tongue. Typically, Remus would have thrown something out the window, maybe said something about Rebecca that would be sure to piss his father off. Looking at Lyall from the open door, clearly disgruntled and ashamed under his collared shirt, took the incentive away. He was going, and that was it. Why make things worse than they already were?
Lyall nodded at him, smiling grimly. Remus turned, trunk handle in hand, beginning to make his way down the hallway. Each door looked identical - as for the many compartments to his left and right, Remus was unable to tell the difference between him as, much like the windows he was able to see outside, the slats were firmly shut from the inside. Eventually, Remus settled on a compartment to the back of the carriage, placing his hand on the handle and sliding open the door.
The compartment was cosy and simple - two cushioned seats facing one another, each a dull chequered teal. Overhead lamps cast a warm light over the compartment, illuminating the small landscape paintings on either wall. Letting go of his trunk, Remus pulled open the shutters, revealing a muted, rainy London landscape. Feeling slightly ill, Remus let the shutters close, letting the gentle rolling of the train wheels beneath him lull him to sleep.
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Less than two hours later, Remus was awoken by a screech of metal - the train had come to a sudden halt. Dazed, Remus peered out of the shutters - a sea of green stared back at him, a landscape of lush ferns, grass and trees that stood like dancing soldiers, uniform and swaying in the wind. Nothing remarkable from this side of the train - a lovely view, of course, but stopping here didn’t seem particularly logical to Remus. Maybe they had realised he wasn’t the student they were looking for, the wrong Remus (though he did pity any other who was forced to share his name). Perhaps they would throw him off the side of the train and into the green expanse - somehow, Remus didn’t think he would mind. What he wouldn’t give to burrow himself into the grass, allow vines to encircle his wrists and throat, tie him to the ground. He wouldn’t mind watching flowers bloom from right next to his very eye, feel the tickle of their stems brush his skin with morning dew.
Anywhere, anywhere but here.
The sound of his compartment door broke Remus from his reverie. Startled, he turned to face a boy, whose face, though he was sure he had never seen before, held a strange element of familiarity he could not place. He was a thin boy who could not have been older than Remus - his uniform hung from his slender frame, his cheekbones sharp beneath his alabaster skin. His hair stood out starkly against both his complexion and storm-grey eyes, silky onyx curls that fell in his eyes, but fell short of his shoulders. Altogether, Remus would have described him as striking - beautiful, admittedly, but his 14-year-old self chose to ignore this thought.
“You’re in my compartment,” the boy began, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh, am I?” Remus smirked, slouching back into his seat. The boy let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Yes, you are. Can you leave?” He complained. And, maybe if he hadn’t barged in on Remus sleeping (and quite peacefully at that), hadn’t spoken to him as if he were the dirt beneath his shoes, Remus would have moved, quite happily. But no, he had contained himself around Lyall, and an argument was simmering within him, desperate to be had.
“No, I don’t think I will,” Remus said, crossing his arms to mimic the other boy, who groaned and took the seat across from him.
“Well, I can’t go anywhere else. I’m staying here.”
“You do that.”
“Who do you think you are?”
“Why are you even on this train?”
“I’m going to school, idiot. You must be new,” he said, looking Remus up and down. Remus flushed, slightly - hopefully it wouldn’t be so obvious to everyone else.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“What’s your name?” The boy asked, squinting his eyes.
“Remus.” The boy laughed, only slightly, before covering his mouth discreetly, as if to physically wipe the smile off his face.
“Remus? Remus what?” He asked, trying and (magnificently) failing to mask his snickering.
“Lupin,” Remus groaned, covering his face in his hands. “It’s horrific.”
“Ah, just wait until you hear mine.”
“Surely it can’t be worse.”
“Regulus,” he began, wincing.
“Just Regulus?”
“Black. Regulus Black.”
“See, that last part isn’t even so bad!” Remus said in annoyance. “Now, Regulus? That’s a whole different story. What are your family, royals? Billionaires? Psychopaths?” As soon as he said it, he knew he had made a mistake. Regulus’ face immediately hardened, smoothed over like concrete.
“Close,” he sniffed, his voice stilted.
“Huh,” Remus shrugged, lying down on the seat.
“Really making yourself comfortable there, are you?”
“Yep.”
“I’m going to read now. Don’t talk to me.” Remus mimed locking his lips, throwing the imaginary key at Regulus’ face, who rolled his eyes yet again - it was a mystery to Remus how the boy kept his eyes in his head.
Half an hour passed slowly, Remus simply staring at the carriage ceiling as Regulus read from the corner of his eye, curled into the corner of his seat with only his hair visible from behind the book covering his face. Where had he seen that hair before, that face? It wasn’t as if Regulus’ look was incredibly common, and there was something slightly different about his face that Remus just couldn’t place. Suddenly, Regulus set down his book, swinging his legs out in front of him.
“I’m bored,” he announced.
“What do you want me to do about that?” Remus asked lazily.
“We have around an hour left on this train, maybe an hour and a half. Talk to me.”
“You’re not really one to take no for an answer, are you?”
“No.”
“Fine, I’ll talk to you. But first, answer my question - why did you get on the train so late? My d- someone told me the train only stops at Kings Cross.”
“That would be correct,” Regulus began. “But, my family has… sway. Where you stopped, we have a house. I got on there, where I was staying with my father. The train will circle around tomorrow to pick up my brother from London, he’s been there with my mother since just after Christmas.”
“You have a house… a house near all those trees?” Remus exhaled wistfully.
“Yeah. Not as great as it seems.”
“How? How could that not be the most perfect place to be, all the time? Surely your friends are crowding the place all the time.”
“No,” Regulus stiffened. “My parents don’t allow guests.”
“Shame,” Remus said, not wanting to press. “What’s your brother like?”
“An ignorant, overconfident prick.”
“Jesus, calm down. How old are you, anyway?”
“14 in June.”
“So, 13.”
“14 in June.”
“Fine, 14 in June. I’m 14, 15 in March. What’s his name, your brother?”
“Sirius,” Regulus said, his voice colourless. “Our parents had a… theme.”
“Stars. Why d’you hate him so much, then?”
“I don’t hate Sirius,” he bristled. “I just… brothers, you know?”
“Yeah,” Remus smiled, remembering the feeling of having Sean and Theo in his arms at the doorway, their laughs echoing in his mind like their bicycle bells back in his hometown.
“So, you have siblings?”
“Not by blood. Continue, Sirius?”
“He’s arrogant. And his friends… he has this one friend, James, who is completely insufferable!” Regulus began, clearly getting worked up. “He’s very… nice. Too nice, irritatingly nice.”
“So, you do any extracurriculars? That’s what they’re called, right?”
“You just want to move on? I was about to begin ranting about my brother’s infuriating posse, and you want to ask me about my extracurriculars?”
“If that’s how you see it, then yes.”
“Fine. I swim, I also… skate.”
“Skateboard? That’s cool. My friend back home could skateboard, really well.”
“No. Ice skate.” Remus laughed, his eyes meeting Regulus’ glare.
“You ice skate? Like, figure skating? The skirts and everything? Doesn’t that seem a little… delicate, for someone of your… demeanour.”
“Yes, I do. I would say you should try it, but you look supremely uncoordinated. It’s the way you sit, the way you lie. If I told you to kick a football, you’d probably just stare at it.”
“I would not. If you have to know, I don’t like sports. I like watching football, I guess. Doing all that outdoorsy stuff, too.”
“Hiking? What hikes have you done?”
“No, the things you do with your friends outside.”
“Huh,” Regulus seemed perplexed.
“Who’re your friends? You’re in the year below me, I take it.”
“Year 4, yes. I don’t keep a lot of friends, it’s not practical. I have people I trust, and I spend my time with them.”
“That’s not a great outlook to have, I don’t think.”
“I don’t really care what you think.”
“Fine,” Remus scoffed, but he could feel the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey, are we here?” Remus asked, pulling up the shutters and almost audibly gasping. Out of the window, stark against the dusk sky of indigo, stood a castle. It stood proudly on a rocky patch of land, surrounded by calm waters and forests of trees so thickly condensed they appeared to be one enormous bush. The castle itself looked as if it belonged in a fairytale - unbelievably big, with pointed towers extending from every part of the building, windows lit up with homely light dotting its frame like fireflies.
“Yeah. You should probably get changed,” Regulus scrunched his nose. “I can leave the room for that.”
Regulus stood, opening and closing the door swiftly, leaving Remus alone. He quickly undressed and changed into his uniform - plain pants, a collared white shirt (that he had conveniently forgotten to mention to Elizabeth needed to be ironed) and a grey pullover. There was also a ridiculously long, cloak-shaped piece of clothing Remus was content to simply hold, rather than risk being caught alive wearing. He knocked on the door, letting Regulus know he could come back in, and finished packing away his clothes just as the train stopped moving.
Regulus motioned for Remus to follow him to the door, where they climbed down the steps and had their trunks taken from them by a kind-faced woman, who took their names and assured them they would be taken to their rooms as soon as possible. Remus and Regulus walked, side by side, towards two grand, double doors, where a middle aged woman was standing, surrounded by children.
“This is where we part,” Regulus said, hands in his pockets.
“Why?” Remus said, apprehensive at the thought of entering such a building on his own.
“You see that woman?” He asked, pointing towards the woman standing just outside the door, grey hair pulled into a tight bun and lips pursed. “That’s Professor McGonagall. Go see her, she’s with the first years, that’s where they’ll sort you into your house.”
“What? They won’t just give me the bloody tie and a slip of paper?”
“Nope,” Regulus grinned. “I’ll be at the table on the far right. I’ll give you a wave when you’re onstage.”
“Onstage?” Remus blanched, whipping his head around to glare at Regulus, but the boy had already run off, towards the side of the castle, disappearing from view. Suddenly cold, Remus (though embarrassed to own such a thing) wrapped the cloak around him, its warmth instant and almost stifling. He walked, as slowly and inconspicuously as possible, to stand on the outskirts of the group, but nothing could hide the fact that he was two heads taller than most of these children, perhaps more in the case of the shorter ones. Remus had always felt he was more than slightly overgrown, always taller than his peers and feeling perpetually lanky, out of place. He hadn’t cared all too much, back home. But, in London? For some reason, rooms seemed smaller, crowds larger yet shorter at the same time, lights hanging lower and doorframes placed at the height of his eyes. It was as if every place he went suffocated him, was never big enough to contain every part of him he had had so easily back at home.
Maybe it wasn’t so much about his height, after all.
“Mr. Lupin?” McGonagall called out, all the childrens’ heads swivelling to stare at Remus, some bewildered, others frightened.
“Yes?” He offered, completely unsure as to what he was supposed to say.
“You will accompany the first years and I into the Great Hall. There, the Headmaster will call you to the stage, and you will accept your tie. You will go to your house table and enjoy dinner. Afterwards, a prefect will direct you to your dorm, and you will meet your roommates. Is this clear?” She asked, tilting her thin-framed glasses down on her face.
“Yeah, yes,” Remus nodded, inwardly cringing.
“Follow me, children,” McGonagall said, waving her arm to the group and opening the double doors to reveal a hallway, dimly lit by candelabras standing on columns of stone. Remus considered not following her, unhappy of his inclusion in the collective, but he supposed that the sooner this was over, the sooner he could sleep. The sooner summer would come, and he could see his friends again. His friends! He would have to ask his roommates to set him up with a phone, a way to write letters. As he followed the rest of the students down the hall, Remus let himself reminisce over the concert, the pounding of music in his ears and heart as he held on to his friends’ arms, sweat sliding over their skin and clinging to the fabric of their t-shirts as they screamed.
Before he knew it, Remus was being ushered into a line where he found himself at the very back, behind a first year named Natalia Zackery. She was trembling with nerves, almost shivering, and Remus could feel the vibrations through her finger when she tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me?” She whispered, dark brown eyes widening as she tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
“Yeah?” Remus said, feeling a little bad for physically looking down on her, but he had no way of helping it.
“What house is the blue one? My mum and dad were both in it, they said I would probably be too, but I don’t even know what it’s called,” she whisper-wailed, eyes shining.
“Um, I don’t know. I’m new, too,” Remus said.
“But you’re so old! I’m 10! And I only just finished reading Hogwarts: A History last night! I should have read it earlier, but I wanted to read my own things over Christmas, you know? It’s just so strange how first years begin in January rather than September, don’t you think? But, I should really know what it’s called!” She said frantically, turning back around suddenly.
Remus combed through his memory, trying desperately to find the name of the house. Natalia was bouncing up and down with nervous energy, and Remus was genuinely afraid she would collapse onstage. It… could have started with an R? He tapped her on the shoulder, feeling as though, how unhelpful his information, at least a letter could provide some sort of comfort to the girl. This time, he leaned down, trying to close the drastic gap between their opposing heights.
“Did it start with an R? I’m sure there was a ‘w’ in there somewhere, too,” he lied, hoping this wouldn’t throw her off too much.
“OH!” She exclaimed. “It’s Ravenclaw, I’m sure of it! Thank you, thank you!” She rocked back and forwards on the balls of her feet. “What house will you be in? What house were your parents in?”
Remus almost scoffed audibly, but restrained himself. This sweet, 10-year-old child did not need to know that both his mother and father had grown up with barely a penny to their names, and that one of them was not… strictly alive, anymore.
“My parents didn’t go here.”
“Oh. I think you’ll be in Gryffindor, the red house. You seem like the type!” She smiled brightly, unaware of the way in which she had just ruined Remus’ night. The tap of a microphone reverberated through the speaker, sending a hush over Remus, Natalia and the children chattering in front of them. Pressing a finger to her lips, Natalia turned back around, still buzzing.
From the side of the stage, Remus could see a man with an impressive, white-silver beard stand with a microphone. He wore a strange, plum coloured set of robes, embroidered with sparkling sapphire stars.
“Welcome, Hogwarts, to another school term!” He began, his voice aged yet crystal clear. “I hope you have all experienced a restful Christmas break. But, before we begin to talk about the times we have had, we must first sort our new students into their new homes,” he smiled, gesturing to the side of the stage.
One by one, McGonagall read childrens’ names out as they walked up to receive their ties of red, blue, yellow or green. Finally, once Natalia had received her blue tie, the headmaster turned his head to look at Remus.
“We do have a new fifth year joining us, too. Remus Lupin,” the headmaster said, and Remus was almost wishing he had jumped off the train as he dragged his legs up onstage, averting his eyes from the four long tables of students, eyes boring into his back as he faced the headmaster. He handed the microphone to McGonagall, smiling kindly, his eyes crinkling.
“I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster. It is a pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts, Mr. Lupin,” he said, holding a wrinkled hand out for Remus to shake. It felt papery in his grasp. Dumbledore pressed a deep red tie into his hand, clapping him on the back lightly. Not even slightly encouraged by the clapping of the students in the hall, Remus found his way to a table of students wearing identical ties, who directed him towards the rest of the fifth years, clearing a space for him to sit down on the wooden bench.
Across the room, Remus caught Regulus’ eyes, sparkling blue with humour. Remus glared at him, before looking down at the plate in front of him, suddenly not hungry at all.
Dinner passed as a blur of introductions and laughter, but Remus found himself tight-lipped and cold, eyes trailing across to Regulus a little too often. The Slytherin (was that the name of the green house? He thought so) table seemed to be a little more… relaxed than his own. The Gryffindor table was a mess - food was thrown at regular intervals, any other time taken up with yelling, hair ruffling, friendly punches and barking laughter. In comparison, the Slytherin table was full of quiet conversation and sly laughter, eyes sharp and cunning. Never was a kind look spared for the Gryffindors.
After their plates had been cleared, Remus was led by McGonagall towards a small group of Gryffindor students, clearing her throat as they turned to face her.
“James, please come here. This is Remus, you’ll be showing him to his dorm.” She said, then walked away from the two briskly.
“Hey, Remus, I’m James,” he said, smiling kindly. His face was exactly that, kind. Warm, hazel eyes flecked with gold, framed by circular glasses against deep olive skin.
“Nice to meet you. So… you’re a prefect, or something?”
“Yeah! Got the badge sent to me over the summer. It’s me and a girl, her name’s Lily, you’ll love her,” he gushed, beginning to walk towards the exit. Remus didn’t think being a prefect was really something to brag about - if Theo and Sean knew Hogwarts had prefects, they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it - but he decided to save James from his own spiteful tongue. The boy just didn’t deserve it, however exhausted Remus was. He practically radiated kindness, an energy that pulled student after student closer to him, waving hellos and shooting questions about his holidays that James quickly dodged, Remus his clear priority.
Remus and James fell into step beside one another on the cobblestone path outside, lit by lanterns teetering on wooden poles.
“So, Remus, where are you from?” James asked. His accent was hard to place - he spoke with a cleancut, English accent, with an undercurrent of something else that warmed his tone.
“Cardiff. Live in London now, though,” he said. “You?”
“I live in Surrey. Why’d you move to London? Was Cardiff nice?” James asked, causing Remus to laugh.
“Is Cardiff nice?” He asked, grinning at an oblivious James, who looked a little frightened, as if worried he had hurt Remus’ feelings. “No, Cardiff is not nice. Still my favourite place to be, though,” he smiled, looking down at his shoes. “My dad remarried, so we’re in London now,” he said. “What about Surrey?”
“It’s nice, I love it there, but it’s nothing next to Hogwarts,” he smiled wistfully, and Remus wondered how anyone could have such a passion for a school - then again, this boy did seem to be sunshine in human form, and the prefect badge shining on his chest definitely didn’t market him as the rebellious sort. “We go in this building here - Gryffindor tower. Once we go upstairs, we’ll find the common room, and then I’ll show you your dorm.” Remus looked up, eyes raking over Gryffindor tower, a tall, cone-shaped structure that stood to the left of the castle. He could only imagine the view, the windows.
“It’s fucking huge,” Remus breathed. “This tower, this whole place.” James laughed, pushing the door open, revealing the beginning of a spiral staircase that made Remus’ legs ache from even looking at it.
“Yeah, it is. Hey,” he said, more seriously. “Gryffindor is great, you’ll love it. Don’t worry. I mean it, at all,” he assured him, clapping a hand onto Remus’ shoulder, who merely gulped and followed him up the steps, their conversation replaced by panting breaths by the time they reached the opening to a corridor.
“Here, just on the right - we can look through the common room later. Best to get you to your dorm - I’m sure Lily will have it on a note or something. She’s organised like that, absolutely brilliant,” he breathed wistfully, eyes clouding as he pushed open the door.
The common room was a cosy expanse of merlot coloured carpets and couches, banners with embroidered lions in gold, fireplaces crackling and students playing various card games, clad in pyjamas and talking over one another. A set of carpeted stairs stood at the back of the room, separating at the top to two rooms, one labelled for each sex - dorm rooms. Much like James, the common room felt warm and friendly, as if its mere air was wrapping its arms around him and holding him there, urging him to walk in, to fall into one of those couches and let them swallow him whole.
“Jesus,” Remus whistled.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great,” James said proudly, clapping his hands together until every eye in the room was trained on the two of them. “All right, everyone! This is Remus Lupin, make him feel welcome!” He yelled, bowing to Remus as the crowd whooped and whistled. More than a little, humiliated, Remus smiled, rocking backwards and forwards on his heels awkwardly. “So, has anyone seen Lily? She’s got his dorm-”
“Remus?” A heart-achingly familiar voice came from the top of the staircase. Immediately, Remus’ head snapped up, and there she was.
Lily.
Bounding down the staircase with her hair streaking behind hair like fire, she threw herself into Remus’ arms, knocking the breath out of him. Never in his life had he felt such gratitude towards being suffocated. He buried his face into her shoulder, holding her with just as much joy, long arms tightening around her small frame.She smelled like lavender beneath her pyjamas, white with little red hearts patterning the fabric.
Pulling away from him, Lily put each of her hands on either side of Remus’ face, both friends grinning helplessly. “You’re here! How? How was your Hannukah? Why are you here, did something happen?” Lily asked, breathless. From his side, Remus heard James clear his throat awkwardly.
“Lily! I take it you’re… familiar with Remus,” he said, waving a dismissive hand to the rest of the students in Gryffindor tower, who shrugged and turned back to their chatter.
“Yeah, I go to Cardiff - where Remus lives, of course - for the summer all the time, to stay with my aunt, ” Lily smiled, hooking her arm through Remus’ and leading him up the stairs, James hurrying to keep up with the two.
“That’s great! Amazing,” James smiled crookedly, and Remus inwardly cringed at the pain that so clearly tainted his smile, something Lily would have noticed, if her focus was to be given to James for even a second. “But, do you know Remus’ dorm? I’ll show it to him, and bring him straight back,” James promised.
“Yeah, he’s in yours!” Lily exclaimed, squeezing Remus’ arms. “You have to tell me everything, Remus!”
“There’s a lot, but we’ll get to it,” he smiled weakly, unlinking his arm from hers, and following James towards the boys’ dormitories. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Lily held her thumbs up in return, running off to the opposite door and disappearing from sight.
Remus and James walked to their dorm, silence encapsulating them like an uncomfortable bubble.
“Here’s our dorm,” James said stiffly, stopping at a wooden door labelled ‘13’, stepping back to allow Remus room to enter.
The dorm was a large room with four four-poster beds facing inwards to one another from each corner of the room, ceiling-to-floor height windows in the space between each one, save for the gap the door offered between two of the beds. At the foot of each bed sat a slightly different coloured trunk, Remus quickly spotted his own on the right side of the room. The two beds on the left side of the door were adorned with various pieces of Gryffindor merchandise, black and white photos of smiling families laughing down at him from their position on the walls. Above one of the beds (presumably James’, from the crimson flag adorned with an embroidered ‘J’ hanging on the wall above), football posters peppered the walls, some with scribbled signatures on their glossy surfaces. Remus’ own bed was on the far right side of the room, next to the door and another bed, one without any decoration at all - not a single poster, figurine or photo in sight.
“Thanks,” Remus replied, feeling just a little annoyed. After all, what did he owe James? Absolutely nothing. His jealousy was not only unjustified, but just rude. Why should he attempt to nurse his broken ego, assure him Lily was only a friend? Then again, he couldn’t just forget James’ kindness, the way he had quickly discarded the topic of his mother, his willingness to show him around the castle, his soft tone.
“James?” Remus began. James tilted his head up, listening. “Is there a… phone, somewhere around here? I was gonna call a girl back home, tell her Lily’s here and all that,” he lied. Immediately, the tension in James’ shoulders unwound, his face softening.
“Sure, Remus, I’ll ask Lily to show it to you. Who’s this girl?” He asked, seeming genuinely interested.
“Um… name’s Meg. She and Lily are really close, that’s how I met her,” he added, hoping the story was believable enough as they began to walk back to the common room.
“Huh, great! I’ll introduce you to Pete later - he’s in the bed next to both of us, far left - and our other roommate, he’s in the bed on the other side of you, he’s not here yet, his name’s-”
“Fantastic, you’re back! James, can I borrow Remus, Marlene and Mary have to meet him,” Lily bustled forwards, tugging Remus away from James.
“Yeah, ‘course - and show him where the phone is, he wants to call Meg!” James called after them, clearly proud of his apparent familiarity with their friend. Lily turned to Remus, who shook his head ever so slightly.
“Sure, sure, I’ll bring him back after Pete’s lesson is over!” Lily waved over her shoulder, and Remus could only imagine James melting at her simple gesture.
“Actually, Lily,” Remus said, stopping to look at her. “I might… I’ve been on the train all day, and Lyall…” Lily smiled softly, squeezing his arm gently.
“God, sorry, I completely forgot! Everything ok?” She asked quickly, eyebrows furrowing.
“Yeah, yeah…”
“Tell me about it in the morning? I’ve got your timetable, I’ll give it to James for you,” she said, pushing him towards the staircase.
“Yeah, promise. Thanks, Lils,” he said earnestly, jogging back up the stairs towards James. “Might go lay down for a bit. Really tired y’know,” he said, James nodding in understanding. “Thanks, James. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, no problem, Remus! It was nice meeting you,” he said genuinely (could this boy be any nicer?), waving before making his way towards a group of boys in the corner of the room, playing a daring game of what appeared to be Go Fish.
Back in the dorm room, Remus collapsed into bed, eyes blurry with fatigue. And god, the mattress was soft, so soft, and Remus was so close to thanking the ceiling for bringing his dad someone who was, at the very least, loaded. The bed smelled of leather and sandalwood, with the slight tang of something he couldn’t quite place but made his head feel slightly fuzzy, and though Remus supposed the scent was somewhat abstract for a boarding school bed, he wasn’t complaining as his head sunk into the pillow, pulling him further and further from consciousness…
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“Remus, mate, it’s time to get up, your first period…”
“I’ll be down in fifteen, you go…”
“If you say so. I’ve got your timetable, I’ll leave it at the door - I can’t see anything,” he whispered, hearing the click of the door opening and closing, the crinkle of paper as James placed his timetable on the carpet. Just a couple more minutes, then he'd be fine. Attack the day, and all that. Just a couple more minutes. Or hours. Minutes…
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Barely two hours later, Remus was awoken by a rustling outside of his bed curtains, before they were viciously ripped open, revealing the silhouette of a boy, who jumped at the sight of Remus.
“Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you in my bed?”