Moon Watching, Moon Moving

The train to Scotland left in the afternoon, and wouldn’t stop until very late into the evening.

Remus had researched about the Royal Dance Academy; of course he had. He would be stupid not to. He had secretly been a bit fixated on the school since he was six, and had first found his passion for dancing, practically drooling over pictures and stories from the school.

He knows the academy is located far off in the Scottish countryside; so he knows the train ride there will take a long time.

He also knows that the school mostly consists of British students, which really should mean there are at least a few other students on this train, or at least would be once they’d passed a few more stations.

More than that he doesn’t really know about the school as a whole, though. He does although know close to everything about the dance lessons on their own.

He glances around him, but doesn’t spot anyone looking to be his age, yet, despite the train being almost full at this point.

Remus sighs. The ride is quite uneventful, really. Remus managed to somewhat come to terms with the school on the train ride from England’s countryside back to London; and he is left without any high to focus on and he finds he has nothing to think about.

That’s when his mind trails to his packing.

The first thing he thinks about is the possible lack of cigarettes.

Sure, Remus did stop going to those illegal, slightly sketchy, parties around London; he stopped following whoever whenever into whatever house packed with drugs and alcohol last summer. But it was also on one of those that he met Aaron.

And, well, to go to a party like that you have to want to.

You’ll have to have wanted all of that; the drugs and the fights and the alcohol and the girls and boys making out with an age difference that feels illegal just thinking about.

And Aaron had wanted to, just like Remus.

So, sure, they didn’t go to parties; but that didn’t stop Remus and Aaron from getting drunk on strange substances that had probably been mixed in buckets, it didn’t stop them from occasionally taking drugs, and it certainly didn’t stop them from smoking.

Remus wasn’t really worried about the alcohol nor the drugs, though.

He was a drunk crier; which made him force himself to be very careful around alcohol, especially back when he used to hang around people or go to parties. They had to be drunk enough to not remember anything before he had the bravery to drink, and it was always a bit of a hassle to constantly keep his mind on how much exactly he was drinking, so he soon ended up stopping to drink entirely.

The drugs are… fun, sure, but he hadn’t taken enough or for long enough to get addicted. They were also harder to get his hands on; which is another downside.

The fags are nice though. He thinks he could live without them until his next break, but in case he finds himself craving one he’s sure at least someone has one they can lend or a pack he could buy. If not at the school, then in the town that is located somewhat nearby.

He’d been trying to quit anyways, since the smoke in his lungs dragged him down in terms of stamina when he was dancing.

The second thing he thinks about is his music.

Fuck.

Of course they wouldn’t have packed his music. One less his cd player.

Because, believe it or not, Remus doesn’t only like classical music. He barely even likes classical music at all.

And, believe it or not, his father only likes classical music.

Which is why the whole thing is a secret, really.

It’d started on one particular party, back when he was still attending a few of his first ones around London, where they were blasting rock music from a cd player in the corner of the room.

Remus immediately fell in love.

He bought a cd player as quickly as he could, hiding it the best he was able to when he got home.

Then he just sort of stole and shoplifted, if he was feeling particularly kind; even bought, different albums.

He adores Bowie, and T-Rex, and everything similar. He has a pretty impressive collection at this point.

He even tried to choreograph a few dances to some of the songs with a fitting beat and rhythm, in the past.

His father won’t approve; which means he can’t have him know about the music, since he would just take all his things.

Right now, he isn’t worried about his dad finding his stuff, though. Just annoyed that his hiding place for everything is too good for the butlers to have ever even accidentally managed to sweep anything with them into his luggage.

He lets out a groan as he realises he’ll have to live without all of that for the rest of his school year.

Well. It’s kind of what he gets for not coming home on time to pack himself, really.

He decides to mope for a bit, feeling sorry for himself and his future months of nothing but classical music, staring in front of him.

Until someone sits down beside him.

It’s a boy with short, black, hair, and a green tie. He has a uniform on, that sort is sort of similar to a suit, and he has sharp features. He looks to be slightly younger than Remus. Perhaps he’s thirteen or fourteen, or something like that.

Remus quickly finds himself slightly self conscious, regarding his clothing specifically. This is the type of person he’d been searching for before; someone who most likely is on their way to the same school Remus is.

Remus himself is wearing scrapped, too big, jeans and a band t-shirt with far too many holes in it underneath an objectively ugly knitted sweater. He has a belt that looks like it’s about to crumble to dust to keep his jeans up, too. He probably smells like nothing but smoke.

Most of the things he’s wearing are given to him by Aaron. He never brings a lot with him from home whenever he goes to visit; throwing together a small backpack of books to entertain him on the train ride there, his medicine, and two or three changes of clothes, and sometimes pointe shoes if his father insists he practices while he’s there.

The rest he borrows and gets from Aaron, who buys far too many clothes for his own good, anyways.

He usually has to leave a bit of space in it, too, since Aaron always insists on giving him small souvenirs before he goes home. Sometimes it’s keychains, sometimes it’s pictures, or similar. This time, he got a lighter with a nice pattern on it.

He looks at the boy’s black, leather, bag, resting neatly at his feet, rivalling Remus’s own scrapped brown backpack.

He notices a small, barely noticeable, keychain, then.

It shows two black pointe shoes, that look to be in a painfully similar shade to the bag itself, almost like the person who put them there didn’t want them to be seen unless you were looking hard enough.

Remus suddenly feels the need to say something, figuring the two would be in the same course if the black haired boy is going where Remus is.

“Uh,” he begins, catching the boy’s attention.

The boy only glares at him from the corner of his eye.

“…you go to the dance… academy,” Remus says stupidly. “Dance and music,” it comes out more as a statement than a question.

The boy sighs, and gives a polite nod.

“You dance?” Remus presses.

“Yes,” the boy says irritatedly.

“…me too. I am… starting,” Remus says.

That catches the boy’s attention. He looks over at Remus now, finally giving him a bit of attention.

“…you dance?” he asks, unimpressed, looking him up and down.

Remus feels a bit embarrassed, but mostly offended at that.

“Yes? Just because I don’t wear whatever daddy picks out for me doesn’t mean I can’t have interests,” he bites back, suddenly a bit uninterested in talking to the boy.

If this is how everyone at the academy would be Remus decides he’ll just have to be alone and mope all the time. Be alone, and kick everyone’s arses in ballet.

“Alright,” the boy huffs out, seemingly a bit offended too, now.

Serves him right, Remus thinks, before staring in front of him again, declaring the conversation to be over.

The silence is tense and slightly uncomfortable, and Remus immediately misses Aaron. Things were never uncomfortable nor awkward with him; not even when they were silent.

He turns his gaze to the window, and gets a feeling of dread settle in his stomach.

The feeling makes a point to stay for the rest of the ride.

————

When he arrives, the rude boy he’d sat beside disappears without a trace. Remus himself feels slightly confused, walking onto the platform, but tries following the crowd to somehow get out of the train station.

It has come to be night once Remus finally arrives, making the station appear very dark. A stark contrast to London; where the streetlights light up the city non-stop.

There is a car waiting outside of the station once Remus gets out, like his father had on the phone told him to expect there to be. He sees the chauffeur standing outside of the car look him up and down, before gesturing for Remus to walk over, so he does.

“Name?” the chauffeur asks with little interest.

“Remus. Remus John Lupin,” Remus nods, adding his last and middle name just to be sure, despite thinking briefly that there probably aren’t many other ‘Remus’s’ around here.

Remus feels the chauffeur eye his clothing judgementally, before letting it go and opening the door to the car wordlessly.

“Leave your bags,” he mutters.

Remus leaves all of them on the ground except for his brown backpack, keeping it on his lap as he gets into the car.

Remus looks outside the window, watching as the chauffeur takes his bags and loads them into the back of the car.

Then they begin the long drive to the school.

Suddenly, everything feels even more… real. He’d been impatiently waiting and bored to death on the train, but now he just wants time to stop for an hour or two. He doesn’t feel ready at all, all of a sudden.

Far too soon, the car stops. Remus steps out when the chauffeur opens his door again.

“Your bags will be escorted to your room. Go through the main entrance and find Miss. Evans, who will show you to the office and then your dorm,” the chauffeur says, as if reading from a script.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Remus says as the chauffeur waves him off, seemingly not wanting anymore to do with him.

Remus walks away a bit before allowing himself to finally look at and take in the school.

His breath hitches.

The academy is even more gorgeous in real life than in the pictures, Remus notes. It sort of feels and looks like a castle of sorts; or a huge, old, church.

He swallows his nerves, feeling himself almost shake.

This is what he’d been dreaming of since, well, since he found out about the school at nine years old.

He’d been imagining it; but nothing could’ve prepared him for… this.

He shakes his head, rubbing his eyes quickly, before walking towards the entrance with as much confidence as he can muster up, which, well, isn’t a lot.

When he’s inside, he finds the grand entrance hall to be unfittingly empty.

Today is Sunday; the last day you’re allowed to arrive at the school before the week properly begins. The earliest you can arrive is two days earlier, on Friday afternoon. A bit of information Remus had picked up in his earlier years; when he had been reading about the school when he was bored and alone.

Apparently, most students had arrived then, also explaining the absence of students on Remus’s train here.

He looks around him, taking everything in.

The school really does look old, not only from the outside, but from the inside too. Not in a bad way, though; like it’s supposed to be like that. It would almost feel cozy, if Remus had not been so tense at all the new impressions.

Suddenly, someone comes walking.

He looks in front of him at the sound, easily locating the person at the clicking sound of their ballet flats.

Towards him a girl with fiery, orange, hair, pushed back by a red headband, comes walking. She is wearing a uniform akin to the boy’s he’d sat with on the train, only she has a red tie, and a knee length skirt, instead of a green tie and trousers. Her face is scattered with freckles, just like Remus’s own, just she has a few more in a pretty brownish orange. Remus thinks they suit her face much better than his own suits his. Her eyes are green and her gaze is sharp.

She stops in front of him.

“Hello. My name is Lily Evans; pleasure to meet you,” she smiles, holding out a hand.

Remus takes it reluctantly.

“Uh. Hi. I’m Remus. Lupin. Nice to meet you,” he awkwardly says, remembering the chauffeur saying something about a miss Evans.

“I am a prefect here, and, in case you aren’t already informed, I will be briefly showing you around,” Lily says.

Her voice is confident and she is looking at him with curiosity that she seems to want to hide. Remus decides quickly that he likes her.

“Alright,” he says plainly, nodding.

“Come on,” Lily says, before turning around and starting to walk through the long corridor.

“There is the dining hall,” she says after just a bit of walking, pointing to a big door to the right. “It’s one of many entrances, but all of the doors that lead to it look the same, so try to memorise that,” she informs.

Remus nods.

“Over there is the music room,” she points at a door a bit ahead. “Or… it’s one of the music rooms. It’s one out of the two we have for wind instruments,” she corrects.

Remus nods again, still trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s here.

“…sorry, what instrument do you play?” she asks after a bit of walking, glancing over at him.

“…oh, uh, I know the basics to a lot of them. Don’t… play any, though,” Remus frowns.

Lily looks at him quizzically for a moment, before raising her eyebrows.

“You’re here for dance?” she asks, sounding slightly surprised, eyeing his clothes.

“Yeah?” Remus felt slightly defensive at her tone and her gaze.

Lily stares at him for a moment, before she smiles, and says:

“Sick. I do dance too. We’ll be having classes together, then,” she mentions, and now it’s Remus’s turn to feel surprised.

He smiles at her after a moment, feeling like he might make a friend here after all, despite his earlier thoughts.

“Cool,” he smiles.

She shakes her head to herself.

“Sorry for assuming, just thought you’d be in Gryffindor, ‘s all,” she says.

Remus frowns.

“That’s the tie, then? Like, different colours depending on… if you’re Gryffindor or not, right?” he asks.

Lily looks over at him.

“Yeah… figured they’d have told you. We aren’t as… open about the houses as we are with other things, here. We’re separated by gender,” she explains. “Gryffindor and Ravenclaw boys are music students, while Hufflepuff and Slytherin boys are dance students. It’s the opposite for us girls,” she explains.

“Why’s it gender separated?” he asks curiously.

“Well, there’s been all sorts of rumours, but I think it’s really ‘cause they want two different classes for the dancing, even though we share every other subject,” she sounds bitter all of a sudden. “They think the boys can take harder training than us girls, I reckon,” she clicks her tongue.

Remus frowns even deeper.

“That’s bullshit,” he says.

Lily smiles up at him.

“Yeah. Thanks,” she says.

“For what?” Remus asks.

“Most people just make fun of me when I tell them about the whole sexism thing,” she shrugs, looking ahead of her again.

“Well, judging by today’s society, you probably aren’t far off, unfortunately. They’re probably only saying that ‘cause you’re a girl, too,” he defends her.

“You get it!” Lily exclaims, almost surprisedly but equal amounts excitedly, as they round a corner. This place really is big.

“It’s the same thing when—“ and then she stops.

“…ah, sorry, this is the headmaster’s office,” she smiles, looking almost a bit ashamed, as she gestures to a door. “I’ve been rambling,” she shakes her head.

“Don’t apologise,” Remus smiles back at her. “I want to hear, really. You’ll be showing me to my dorm too, later, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Remus. I’ll be waiting out here,” she says.

“Anytime, yeah?” Remus replies, and Lily smiles even wider.

“Well, see you, then,” he says, Lily waving him off in a sort of awkward goodbye, as he pushes the door open and walks inside.

The door falls shut behind him, and he only has a second to take in the high ceiling and the many bookshelves before he is startled out of his thoughts.

“Mr. Lupin,” a voice calls out, and he looks over to see her. The professor McGonagall.

He’d read a lot about her. She’d been running the school since… well, since at least the mid to late fifties, at this point.

She had single-handedly gotten the school in top condition in terms of education; and she’d single-handedly made sure the school got as famous as it is today. She’s, in short, a legend.

“Professor McGonagall,” Remus says, breathless, staring at her.

She smiles at him with a tinge of amusement.

“Come, sit down,” she says, and Remus can do nothing but obey.

“Now, you are here for our dance course, correct?” she asks, and Remus nods. “Wonderful. We have already prepared your clothes; we have a pretty strict uniform policy, as you might’ve noticed,” she explains.

“You are to wear the tie colour of the house you are assigned, which I expect young miss Evans have explained to you already, correct?” she asks, and he nods again. “Great. Now, that’s our first problem,” she begins.

“We do not often get new students your age, Mr. Lupin, and we have found that both the Slytherin and the Hufflepuff houses are… full,” Remus frowns. “But your skill as well as raw talent is outstanding. Letting you go without giving you a place here would be utterly foolish. So, we have found that there is… one other room where you can live, despite it breaking our rules slightly,” she says, and Remus is for a second worried he’ll have to share a room with five Slytherin girls, or something.

“In the Gryffindor dorm, we have one place left. In the room G204. Although, to warn you, you will be the only boy doing ballet there,” she explains, and Remus, still a bit starstruck about seeing McGonagall, nods without thinking.

She smiles at him. “Wonderful. Now, to your schedule.”

————

He walks out of the office with new information buzzing in his brain, staring down at his schedule, which McGonagall had given him a paper copy of.

“Remus?” a voice calls out, slightly amused.

He looks up at Lily frantically.

“A lot, huh? It was the same when I started in fourth grade. Just so much to keep track of…” she says.

“…yeah. Lord, I barely remember what dorm I’m in now,” he shakes his head with a huffed laugh.

“What room are you in?” Lily asks.

“Uh…” Remus looks at his schedule again, where all his information is jotted down. “Oh. Yeah. There was no places left in Slytherin nor Ravenclaw, by the way, so I am in Gryffindor after all. In room… G204,” he says, before looking up at Lily to see the blood having been drained from her face.

————

They walk out of the house and over half a field in the direction of a big, but still a lot smaller than the school, building with Lily grumbling to herself about something, before she abruptly switches her mood.

“No. You know what? It’s fine,” she nods to herself, before turning to finally look at Remus again.

“Uh,” Remus says.

“It’s just…” she sighs, as if Remus had asked her a question she didn’t want to answer. “not to scare you, but the G204 boys…” she worries her lower lip. “they’re known to be a bit… troublesome,” she eventually settles on, a hint of bitterness in her voice that let’s Remus know that’s not the entire reason to why she dislikes them.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, though,” she says, walking with Remus to the house. They walk through the door, and Remus is met with a small hall leading to a sitting room as cozy as can be. It is crowded with couches and warm lights and red decorations, and best of all, bookshelves. He remembers McGonagall telling him that the house with the most books in their, as she had called it, common room, is Ravenclaw, with an own private library and all, but Remus thinks this is good enough anyway.

“Well, the boy’s rooms are up the stairs, whilst the girls’ rooms are to the left down here, so,” Lily says. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, Remus,” she smiles.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Lily. It was nice meeting you,” he says.

“You too,” she replies, before turning around, soon leaving Remus to his own thoughts.

Alright, he thinks. Room 204; just one staircase up, then.

He walks up the stairs that Lily had gestured to before, being met with a tight corridor that reminds him slightly of the ones you’d find at a hotel. A very small and old hotel, that is.

He walks past room 201, 202, 203… and there it is. G204; at the very end of the corridor.

He stares at the door for a moment, as if it would magically open, debating on whether to knock or not.

He decides that knocking is unnecessary if he’s supposed to be living here either way, so he ends up pushing the door open gently instead.

He is met with the sight of three boys lying on the floor, playing cards, suddenly going very quiet at his arrival.

One of them is shorter than the rest, with messy blonde curls and blue eyes and too-big front teeth.

The second one has dark skin, slightly taller than the rest but possibly slightly shorter than Remus himself, with messy, black curls and an athletic build. He has black glasses resting on his nose.

And the third one… he looks scarily similar to the boy Remus saw on the train; with the same sharp, dangerous, features. Though Remus has to admit this boy wears them differently, better, than the boy on the train had. He has moles dotted around his face, down his neck, and once again Remus is jealous, feeling overly conscious of his freckles again. His skin is pale. He has long, black, wavy, hair, falling down his shoulders ever so slightly. His eyes are piercing and silver.

Remus feels his face flush slightly. He decides, because of all that, that he does not like the third boy.

“…hello,” he begins cautiously, feeling almost embarrassed over being here.

“…hey. Uh. Who are you?” the second boy, lying in the middle, asks.

“Remus,” Remus replies.

The boy nods slowly.

“Uh. You’re new? I thought McGonagall said we were getting a dance student?” he says the last part loud enough for Remus to hear, but quiet enough for him to understand it isn’t meant for him.

Remus sighs.

“I am a dance student,” he mutters, tired of repeating it at this point.

“Oh!” the boy says, before flashing him a dashing grin. “well, in that case, my name’s James Potter. This is Peter Pettigrew,” he gestures to boy number one, that smiles at him cautiously. “and this one over here is Sirius Black,” James gestures to boy number three, who is still staring at Remus with something akin to doubt.

“Uh. Nice to meet you,” Remus says awkwardly.

“A guy came in before and left your stuff over at the bed there,” James says, gesturing towards the bed at the very right corner, next to the window.

“Uh… sorry, it’s sorta the worst bed. A bunch of mosquitoes come in there during the night. I can switch with you, if you wanna?” he continues, smiling apologetically.

Remus decides that James is his favourite, then.

He smiles back.

“Nah, I’m fine, mate. Thanks,” he says, walking over and dropping his brown bag on the ground close to it.

“Oh, great,” James sounds genuinely relieved, if a bit less tense at the use of the friendly nickname too. “If you wanna shower or anything, the bathrooms is over there,” he says, gesturing to a door on the left side of the room.

“Thanks,” Remus says, and then the room falls into an uncomfortable sort of silence, until Remus has gathered his toiletries and made his way over into the bathroom.

“…let’s go to sleep,” a new voice says, just loud enough for Remus to here through the closed door.

“…alright, Sirius. You not feeling well?” James voice.

“Nah,” the new voice— Sirius— says dryly, and after some shuffling, the room goes completely quiet.

Remus tiptoes over to his bed after showering and getting ready, secretly grateful for the moment of loneliness, before opening his brown bag. He quickly finds his bottle of pills, of which he dry swallows one before hiding the bottle again, lying down and hoping for sleep to take him this night.

It never does; and he shifts in and out of an uncomfortable unconsciousness all night long.