Getting To Know Remus
The next morning, Sirius awoke to sharp rapping at the door. For a moment, he thinks he’s still at Grimmauld Place, and that Kreacher is banging on the door, but then he hears Remus grunt across the room from him, which reminds him of where he is. Remus gets up, turns, and makes his bed. It’s practiced, like he does it every day.
“That’ll be Matron.” Remus explains, “She wakes us up at the arsecrack o’ dawn everyday for breakfast, and then classes. Y’have to make your bed otherwise you get whipped. Learned that the hard way.”
He shivers.
Sirius nods slowly and stands, wincing at the sharp pain in his back.
“Y’okay?” Remus asks, looking up at Sirius.
“Yeah. My back…” Sirius doesn’t know how to continue.
Remus sighs, and walks over to Sirius.
“Lemme see.” He demands.
“What?”
“Let. Me. See. I can help. I’ve got some medicine.”
Sirius eyes Remus nervously, but he does look like he’s healed some stuff. Like his face.
“Fine.” Sirius pulls his shirt over his head, wincing as he goes
Remus walks behind Sirius, and Sirius can hear the gasp.
“Did your parents do this?” Remus asks, voice tight.
Sirius nods slowly.
“I’m gonna have t’take you to Doctor. I can’t heal this.”
“Okay.” Sirius agrees.
There’s a sharp rap against the door again.
“Get up!” Matron shouts.
“Yes, Matron!” Remus responds quickly, “We’re up!”
“Good!” She moves on to the next door.
“I’ll make your bed for you. Y’need to get dressed, and then I’ll take y’to doctor.”
“Thanks.” Sirius walks over to his trunk to get dressed.
“Not in that.” Remus says, before Sirius can open his trunk, “Y’look posh. The big boys’ll beat the shit outta you.”
“What do I wear then?”
“I’ll grab y’one of my shirts.”
“Thanks.”
Remus seems to hesitate, but then he turns, pausing from making the bed.
“Y’also sound posh. Y’need to drop some o’ your letters.”
“Like how you don’t say ‘f’ or ‘you’ sometimes?”
“Exactly like that. If y’don’t sound like them, y’won’t fit in, and they’ll beat ya.”
“Okay.”
“Drop your accent too. Makes y’sound rich.”
“You’re quite bossy.”
Remus glares at Sirius.
“Look, if ya wanna survive it here at St. Eddy’s y’gotta act like the rest o’ them. I’m not being bossy, I’m telling ya how to survive.”
“Oh.” Sirius says, lowering his head.
“Go grab some o’ my clothes.”
“Thanks.”
“An’ stop thankin’ me.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop ‘pologizin’.”
“Okay.”
Sirius walks over to grab the clothes.
Remus finishes the bed and sighs.
“Look, I like ya, and I would like to be your friend, I swear I’m not tryn’ ta boss ya, I just don’ wanna watch ya get hurt.”
“I know. I appreciate it.”
“I do mean it though. They’ll beat your arse if you keep actin’ posh.”
“I know.”
“You should get dressed.”
Sirius gets dressed, and then Remus leads him out of their shared room.
“Firs’ is breakfast. Usually just toast and porridge. If we’re lucky we’ll get tea. Then lessons. I’ll take you t’doctor after breakfast, because you’ll miss lessons. You’ll hate the lessons, I can already tell.”
Sirius nods along.
When they finally get to the dining ‘hall’ that’s really just a small dining room that probably would barely fit a family of five, let alone the dozens of boys at St. Edmund. Remus drags Sirius through the crowd and over to the counter, where he grabs two trays, hands one to Sirius, and then grabs a piece of toast and a spoonful of porridge. No toppings for either.
Sirius does the same.
Remus leads Sirius over to a corner with slightly less boys, and plops down on the floor.
The dining hall is crowded and small, and loud, with all of the boys chattering and the constant scraping away at trays. Sirius isn’t used to it; breakfast was always a silent affair at Grimmauld Place; but he thinks he could get used to this.
“Right, so enjoy your firs’ meal at St. Edmunds. And no. It doesn’ get better.”
Sirius looks at him quizzically, and takes a bite of his porridge, which he almost immediately spits out. It’s chunky and feels like phlegm, and doesn’t taste much better.
Remus watches in amusement.
“You’ve got self control. I spat mine out the first week.”
Sirius grimaces as he chews the rest of his bite.
“Toast is good though.” Remus says, taking a large bite.